fiammetta
by fire be purged
Fiammetta was dissapointed.
She had expected more fight, more fire from the female before her and yet, her efforts were rewarded with mere trifles – flickers of a deeper intelligence. She flicked an ear, enjoying the word-play as the barbed lyricals dripped from her lips, watching for a reaction from the black female and yet keeping tabs on Tobias as well. He was on her blind side, but he made no attempt to mask his presence, and the snorts of enjoyment he issued whilst rolling in the grass reassured her that there were no more surprises in store for her this day.
As she came to a conclusion, the ebony monster had thought for a moment, flicking her attention to her protector before turning her face back to the white fatale, words slow and thoughtful and eyes cold like a crystal pool. Her remark, when proffered, was even and yet it lacked for something. Wit? Wisdom? Fiam didn't know, but her confidence grew with every word the other spoke, her pride letting her feel superior even to one who ruled over her,
“I know not of what mental wounds you speak, but physical wounds, well, both of us wear scars now. As for your imprint's victory, it was tenuous and unimpressive. My time is coming, dark one, and you know it. While he fades, I grow ever stronger. I will yet have him bow.”
Her eye glowed brightly with inner vehemence, her strength evident even while she stood before her enemy a captive. If Tick Tock were wise she might have seen in the frame of that small girl a large and powerful creature coming in to its own. Far better to befriend her than have her challenge for supremacy. Still, perhaps the black ess had not yet picked up on the glimmer of Fiam's future, for she tailored another reply to defend her mute imprint. It was slightly amusing to the ravaged femme, but she hid her smile even while the other turned to look at her king, no doubt realising the pain of feeling a love and respect forever doomed to be unrequited. When she again faced Fiam, however, she was smart enough to conceal her true feelings, and appeared only to be simmering with the barest of sentiments. The smaller female met her gaze unflinchingly, challengingly, her words equally as icy as they slid from her maw, although she could not mask all the passion that she felt from their depths, “How sweet that you feel the need to protect him. I'm sure he would not thank you if he understood. Be that as it may, I did not comment on his intelligence, only his skills,” she paused to take a breath before continuing, “As for him 'not being maimed', he is indeed injured and I think, should you take a look, that the limp I have given him will last longer than a single season, whereas my wounds are superficial only. I believe also that, should another challenge him, he may be in trouble. If you care for him so, you should try to keep him safe. He's not the strong, young beast he used to be and, as every wolf in Moladion knows by now, legends aren't immortal.”
She shook her head at the other's stupidity. Tobias had taken a full blow to his hind leg, and a severe injury to a tendon on a wolf his age would result in limp lasting many months, if not forever. For what it was worth, though, Tobias himself didn't seem to care. He simply scrubbed his back along the ground, and Fiam envied his carefree attitude for a moment, wishing she did not bear the yoke The Burning had presented her with. Still, she could do nothing to change her stars, they were set, and she would try her utmost to ensure that she fulfilled her destiny. The monster's next speech was presented with such pompous grandeur masked by pretended humility that Fiam was moved to fresh anger. The flames glittered in her single red eye and she almost choked on her words as they rushed to be set free from her mouth, begging to call out the beast on her presumptuousness, “How strange I find it, that the savage monster who attempted to rip my flesh from my body and lingered like an evil vapour throughout Moladion should have undergone such a transformation as you have! How wondrous that she is now so lowly as to rank herself with other, lesser wolves and lord over them with a fair and just paw. It seems that being made a leader changes one quite significantly. I myself should like to endure such a transformation one day.”
A veiled threat? Perhaps, but Fiam was too wrathful to give much thought to anything she uttered.
“I believe I have had more sincere conversations with our friend over there.”
She gestured towards Tobias with her head, although her single eye never moved from the scarred witch's face. When the other spoke about her name, Fiam made no reply, ignoring the amusement in the blue depths of her eyes and storing the information away for another time. Such facts were trivialities in an exchange so heated all the wolves involved were likely to burn to cinders from the strength of their own feelings, however well or poorly they hid them. The rain that continued to fall peaceably alongside contrasted starkly against Fiam's rage, but did little to soothe it, only serving to cool the burning of her wounds slightly.
Attempting to sate her steaming ire, she made one last ditch attempt at warning the black creature from inviting her into her pack lands, her final comment meant to sting and burn. However, far from that, it seemed to feed the other and it drew from her a reply that sparkled slightly with something the woman had not shown before, something different and new and, for the first time, Fiammetta was intrigued. Perhaps there was something more, hidden beneath that still persona, perhaps. The white female smiled, full of mirth, before she suddenly felt a sharp pain in her muzzle and she was slammed unceremoniously to the ground.
With some surprise she looked about her from her new position and saw only black, smelt only the foetid breath of her foe while she exerted her dominance as Tobias had once, long ago. Fiammetta resented her show of power more than words could express, but she submitted to it because she was bound, as all wolves are, by a law greater than any other and it dictated that she could not fight. Besides, in the scuffle many of the scabs that decorated her had been torn asunder, to let new rivers of blood stream from their gaping mouths. She could smell them, each and every one, badges of her weakness and vulnerability. But still, despite it all, she would not bow.
Her growls were small and ineffective, sounding more like belches as they escaped from between her clamped lips, but they were meant to remind that every incivility that she suffered at the hands of her tormentors would be returned to them a thousand fold one day. It didn't seem to bother them in the slightest. Fiam remained in an uncomfortable play-bow position while Tobias circled her. She knew he was close because she could feel his hot breath, smell his thick cologne. She felt no fear though, and did little more than flinch as his fangs pierced her shoulder, leaving a few shallow scrapes as warning. As soon as she was free of the ebony girl's hold she was up and ready to attack, but found herself face to face with the black brujo who had defeated her. He had proved himself a worthy adversary this day and, because of that reason, Fiammetta allowed him to crowd her, although she would not back from him. She turned her muzzle away as he snapped at it, a word of warning issued from between his svelte lips, before he turned away to sit beside the two females once more.
Fiam had lowered her tail and ears, but more she would not do. She would never bow, and they would both learn that soon enough. The only way to bring her to her knees was to break them. She knew that, together, if they chose they could slaughter her but then she would die a martyr. No doubt the other widow knew that as well, for neither made any further attacks against her. Instead, Tobias spoke with his hoarse, uncultured voice. She glared at him, foam speckling her muzzle and chest and oozing from between the teeth unmasked by facial skin any longer, “Even if I knew where or who your brothers were, I wouldn't tell you. Ah, but then, you don't understand me do you?”
She paused before looking up into the larger wolf's face and growling at him, ”No!”
It was a dangerous move, defiant and yet not exactly a show of dominance. With luck, Tobias would not register it as threatening on her part and so leave her be. If not, well, she was prepared to fight.
No Home - No Family - 5YO - 28 in, 32 lbs