They say that Death, if it could breathe, would reek like a hundred thousand rotting corpses. They also say it would be black as the night, black as a raven seeking a meal, eyes empty and devoid of all emotion. If Death could breathe, it would be all-seeing, all-consuming and all-powerful, too formidable to shrink from any battle, for who among the masses could challenge that which they themselves run from every moment that they live?
If Death could breathe, it would be Tobias.
He was solid as a mountain, immobile as one too, every inch of him rippling with muscle and divine purpous, every motion pre-ordained by a king too dark to imagine. He hissed like a snake, recoiled like a viper ready to attack, his blank eyes seeing nothing but his primal needs, and the necessary demises of those that would serve to fulfil those needs. And it was against this monster, this modern Cerberus, that Fiammetta chose to rebel. Perhaps she was foolish in doing so, despite her youth and naivety, but perhaps she was not. In any event, courage and fervor ran thickly in her blood, passed on to her from the very grandmother whose scent betrayed her now, and she wasn't about to roll over to the salivating dog in whose shadow she waited.
His advance was chilling, each paw placed carelessly before the other, eyes fixed upon her features with black intent. She rose to the challenge, glaring up at him, displaying a mouthful of sharp fangs, her own growls rattling through her tiny chest. And then, she did the unimaginable. She moved forward. Had she known of Tobias' infamy, she may have chosen a different action but, alas, she was ignorant of his vampiric ways and saw only a lupine creature in desperate need of an attitude adjustment. The male was clearly surprised at her brazeneness, pausing for a moment to regard her, although he barely seemed to recognise the words she spoke. He saw only raw actions, driven by instinct as he was, and hers spoke strongly enough that words weren't needed. She stood so near to him that his rank breath huffed upon her nose, causing her brow to furrow with distaste, a motion he seemed to resent as a turly terrifying roar rent the air. She glanced about, confused, until she noted that it emanated from between his coal-smeared lips. Hackles standing even stiffer upon her shoulders, she readied herself to snarl intimidatingly in return. However, she never got the time.
The next few moments flew by blindingly swiftly, a roaring, churning ocean of noise and confusion. Tobias' muscles bunched beneath his pelt, ready to spring at Fiam, no doubt in the hopes of forcing a submission from her. She braced herself for the impact, and was surprised at how light it was when it came. It took her a few seconds of unravelling the situation before she realised what had happened. Just as his great bulk had begun to torpedo in her direction, another had moved to intercept him, taking the blow that otherwise would have sent her sprawling. It had been this stranger wolf who had knocked her aside in her haste to protect the youngster, and it was the stranger that faced Tobias now, anger radiating from her in waves. He snarled possesively, claiming Fiam as his, and the female only growled in reply, stating his name as though she had met him before. His title was duly noted and Fiammetta let the word roil around her tongue, tasting it for what it was, the confirmation of the birth of a beast. And then, she released a booming, racking snarl so potent it surprised even her. And, it was aimed at the newcomer.
“What do you think you're doing!?”
The female spoke over her, addressing Tobias once more, oblivious to what was taking place behind her. Fiam recognised that she would have to make a scene to be noticed, and so she ducked around the right flank of the one who shielded her, and stood between the two ebony behemoths, her back to the still angry male, her mismatched eyes staring furiously at the orange lanterns of the other female,
“Who do you think you are? I had this perfectly under control without your help! And who has made it your business to whom I belong, hey? Just because you are a few cycles my senior, doesn't mean you can tell me whom I can trust.”
She was aggressive without meaning to be, fiery and unpredictable. She abhorred aid if she did not ask for it, and she believed herself to be in control even when she wasn't. If the situation hadn't been so dire, it may have even appeared comical. Still, it certainly wasn't, and the air-headed actions of her youth had placed Fiam in unimaginable danger, her white form sandwhiched between two sworn enemies, both at least twice her size. It truly would be interesting, to see what turn this day would take.
Fiammetta - female – No Home – No Family – 3YO – 22 inches, 32 pounds