The night was all aflutter with creamy moths whose zig-zag paths cut through the ethereal starglow like so many knives. Mosquitos also called the nightime sky their home, and they buzzed relentlessly beside a pair of chocolate ears twitching in the gloam. Kalypso sneezed and shook her pert muzzle at the annoying little creatures,her maw twisted into an unhappy grimace. Wet mud caked her paws and filled the gaps between her pads as she crunched her way along the shore, and she was thoroughly displeased. An unhappy aura filled the air around her so strongly it could almost be seen, pulsing a pale off-green on the edges of imagination and warding off any who otherwise might have thought to approach. The girl silently cursed herself for leaving her old pack, almost convincing herself that a life spent there as underdog was preferable over a life spent in this strange, scarred landscape. Perhaps, if she were of a calmer disposition, the nature around her would have struck her with its beauty. Unfortunately, as it were, she cared for little but the reflection mimicking her every twitch in the dark water to her right. Yes, even in her miserable state of mind she could appreciate the way the moon cast a soft sheen on her mottled fur, gleaming off her white face and legs and dancing from her tail tip. With time, the sight caused a smirk to return to her finely-set features as she wove her way gingerly along the water's edge towards heaven-knew-where. Her intentions regarding this matter were still blurry, but she was content at least in the knowledge that, sooner or later, she may charm a stranger with royal blood in his veins. It was, of course, destiny that such a thing would occur to one blessed so richly as she. The Gods had known what was to be her fate and structured her appearance accordingly.
Vain as she was, Kalypso's fancies were not ill-founded or grounded in ignorance. She knew as well as the next wolf how wonderfully put-together she was, right down to the twin opalescent, pink orbs that glowed above her muzzle. The picture of femininity, even her own mother had envied her and refused to suckle her for very long. Thus, from such a tender age, Kalypso had learnt how to use her beauty as a blessing to counter the curse it would otherwise have brought upon her. With a twitch of her vixen tail or the bat of an eyelid males would melt at her paws. Indeed, she had experienced little in her fairly short existance, even abstaining form the hunt lest spattered blood stain her silky tresses. Others had willingly provided for her in exchange for a short coupling or falsely declared adoration (on her part at least). This was not to say that life had been easy for the femme, oh no, but she was well versed in the fine art of manipulation. Even as she moved, she cast about for her next unsuspecting target, hoping it would be somebody worth her while. Ah well, even if not, she would a the very least gain a free meal from the deal.
Thus plots and plans spun through the pretty girl's head like dust bunnies set in motion by a passing breeze. Behind her, her delicate pawprints gave silently to the water that filled them from beneath, marring their silhouettes and masking her scent. A lonesome howl curled into the vapours of the darkness, and the female tilted her milky muzzle upwards to answer the call. An owl swooped low overhead, hooting in response, and the mistress started and scowled at the creature as it ghosted away. Her tail itched where it had brushed the sand and she moved to a small tussock of grass whereapon she sat, contorted in a graceful arc, and began to run her tongue across the offending area.
OOC: excuse this offensive piece of literature..if it can even be called that...I have been out of practice for a very long time. Also, excuse any spelling errors please, I am using OO and therefore have no spellcheck-lame!
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