Instinct is a cage without bars, an invisible prison in which all creatures are held in bondage. How they react to this prison is what sets them apart. Some choose to fight it with all their strength, gnashing their teeth and wailing as they struggle to deviate from nature's true course. Very few succeed. Others let their paws touch each side of the line, mixing knowledge, emotion and instinct into a powerful concoction in which the division between right and wrong is clearly defined. The final group embraces instinct, making them far more powerful and leagues more dangerous than their brethren. It is common knowledge to the wolf that the bear has no feeling or emotion and is driven only by the constant chemical reactions going on behind their pupils. For this reason, a wolf will think very deeply before tackling a bear, knowing that remorse is not an feeling with which the shaggy creature is well acquainted. Tobias was like the bear. His coarse exterior, rippling muscles and consistent aggression was appallingly familiar, almost rousing fear in the breast of the injured femme. However, she consumed the fear instead as the fire does a forest, replacing it with anger and hate, fuelling the bonfire in her heart to a crescendo. Her single, crimson orb throbbed with the tumultuous storm going on behind it, seeming to glow ever brighter with the passing of time. Of course, the ebony beast either did not notice or did not care, his expression blank despite the growl rumbling through his body and his teeth gleaming white in the moonlight. Fiam matched him show for show, although it was painfully clear how outmatched she was, her wound stark and her size half of his own. Still he merely pushed against her, tested her boundaries, circling and looming ever closer, until her gnashing jaws drove him back, her sleek pate following the arc he traced in the darkness, trained on those dead, dead eyes. Now and again he snapped at her in reply, his great jaws gaping wide before coming down hard, a sound reminiscent of thunder peeling from his jowls. His saliva fell like rain to drench earth parched dry in winter's barren grip, and it absorbed it hungrily, almost as hungrily as Tobias glared at the small wolf before him. His hulking frame stank of females strange and familiar alike, and Fiam almost roared as the scent of the hated one reached her flaring nostrils. It was, however, of no surprise to her when the hellion ignored her attempt at conversation, barely pausing to listen before he gouged lines in the earth with mammoth claws, frustrated. The white wolfess made no move, except to drive him back when he drew too near, reminding him of weaponry that, despite her fragile state, remained intact.
The pair seemed locked together for an infinity, predator and prey, so alike and yet so different, chained in a deadly battle of wills. Only when he broke the eternal divide and moved against her did Fiam allow herself a moment of respite, a moment to believe that what he asked of her was a thing so carnal she too desired it. Her breathing grew shallow with excitement as his muscles bunched beneath his skin, and she inhaled his rich, masculine scent, growing so intoxicated off it that only the pain of her wounds reminded her with whom she stood. The whine that escaped her muzzle as she leapt away came unbidden, and it was matched by much the same cry from the black gargantuan, a sound so strange it almost stopped her in her tracks. However, her will was strong and unbending as iron, and she fought the desire to return to him and lose herself in his essence. Still, nature was never a kind goddess, and she had decreed that each of her children should fight for what they believed to be theirs, a rule which Tobi had suckled with his mother's milk, it seemed. In an instant he had seized her roughly by the scruff, forcing her quiescence by holding her with a forelimb flung across her shoulder, reminding her of his size and strength by the sheer weight she felt her body carrying when he rested atop her. It was only grace that allowed her to wiggle from his jaws, and by grace alone did she manage to find a way out from beneath him without tripping up, her legs tangling with his as she fled his frustrated growling. The air had never seemed so sweet to the alabaster ess, as it did when the night was suddenly free of his choking perfume. She gulped it deeply, ignoring the cold bite of winter in her lungs and the eerie light of the once-comforting stars above her. Quick as a fox she turned where she stood, ignoring the wisdom of flight and instead embracing the foolhardy bravado that had been passed down from Jaylah herself. Without a second thought to the consequences of her actions, she threw herself at the black male, jaws parted in readiness, her heart racing with adrenaline.
An eternity passed before her teeth met flesh, and it seemed to Fiam as though the whole earth shook with the rage of his roar. She bit down, canines passing through the flesh and scant fatty layer to the muscle beneath, shaking her head ferociously in an attempt to do as much damage as she could. However, despite her concentration and the thrill of the moment, she could not shrug off the satisfaction she felt as the blood of the hunter coursed down her throat, splashing her muzzle with the ecstasy of victory. It was bitter but not unpleasant, and she relished it. So caught up was she that she did not notice how he watched her vacantly, his muzzle bare of any hint of pain, his eyes two hollow pools of liquid devoid of all life. If she had, she may have paid attention to the more subtle movements of his body, recognising the signs of an imminent attack. Her lack of forethought proved her downfall.
When he struck, it was with all the swiftness of a snake, his jet body ripping free of her jaws as if she were merely a fly clinging to his pelt. His jerk had thrown her off balance and she stumbled to her knees, jaws still clinging desperately to a swathe of his flesh. He dropped his jaws without hesitation and clamped them around hers, so that she could neither move nor rise, dominating her. She dared not struggle, for one movement of his jaw and hers would be crushed to dust. Instead she lay there awkwardly, pain resonating through her bones. During the attack by Tobias' imprint, Fiammetta had suffered damage to her trapezius muscle. Since that day it had begun to heal, but the suddenness of all the motion had caused the lesions to reopen, old scar tissue breaking apart and spilling hot blood into the space beneath her flesh. The area swelled almost instantly, and she felt half-blind from the agony, made worse by the position she was in. There was no way now she could fight the monster now and, when he sensed her choking pain as she knew he would, he too would know her weakness. In an attempt to conceal it, she growled, the sound barely making a fissure in the air as it struggled to escape her muzzle. Without further persuasion the black creature moved his boy against hers once more, enveloping her in his gloriously thick fur, his smell once more cloying in her nostrils. At that moment he released her muzzle but, before she could struggle to her paws, he gripped her scruff, teeth buried so deep that a few left indents in the skin. She swallowed a whine of discomfort and attempted a half-hearted struggle, but the force with which he held her in place was too much to fight against. This especially with a torn muscle, which she now felt as a fire in her side, since the adrenaline in her system had worn off and left her struggling for breath.
She felt the heaviness of him as he again flung a foreleg across her shoulder, although her weakened position saw to it that he could press no further weight upon her lest she collapse fully. A minor problem, as he could mate her by simply standing over her, since she was too small to properly mount. He pivoted his body so that he stood over her, and it seemed that she had become him, so enveloped was she by his smell and his body. It is true that she struggled and growled, fighting back her hatred for the one who took what she would not willingly give but, at the same time, a small piece of her felt the gravity of the moment, like a shifting of the planets. Not only would she, after such an instant, be considered a naïve pup no more, but she would also be satisfying an urge almost as strong for her as it was for Tobias. Thus, the callous moon stared down at the pair, no longer the all-seeing eye and the loving mother, but a rock as dead as the male who straddled Fiam.
Nothing would ever be the same again.
Fiammetta - Female - No Home - No Family - 4YO - 28 inches, 32 pounds