The caves are where it all started. They allowed the first wandering wolves access to the land of Blossom Forest, and afterward housed the monster that had threatened the earliest of inhabitants. The heroes had slain it, yes, but in doing so had also closed off one of the pathways in the caverns, magic blocking one of the many exits to Blossom Forest. But over the years, the original spell has weakened and now the way is clear. What will not only crawl out of the caverns, but erupt from it? The caves now thrum with the ever growing magic wellspring as it spreads out into the land. It is from here that the first vampire of Blossom Forest was corrupted, and it is here that any subsequent vampire will be born. To traverse its paths is dangerous - there is an almost impenetrable darkness, and in that abyss lays many secrets - hidden holes one could fall through, weakened floors, and then of course there is the labyrinthe itself. No one knows what the deeper levels hold - no one has traveled them and survived to tell tales. Not even those who call this place home dares to test their luck by going in deep, deep, deeper. The magic exuding from this place has rearranged the lands - moving packs, changing the terrain. Here the cave looks the same but it is not - it is more dangerous than ever. In addition, outside the mouth of the cave the sacred stones that once stood erect in another place now stand guard. They are colored the most beautiful arrangement of jewel tones, and almost appear to be made of gems themselves, no longer the dull grey they once were. It is within them that all official fights must take place - at the Blican Orlege. Welcome to Drylic Cofa...


Wolf in Sheep's Skin

I'm Your Worst Nightmare Dressed as your Day Dream
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Just as he had planned, her fear had stolen from her all ability to plan her body’s motions. Instinct had told her to run and so she had sought to rise from the soil in order to do so. Had she any training, she would have scurried out from underneath him, but it was all too obvious that she lacked any such training. For she had rammed into his body all too perfectly - her petite form slammed into his larger bodice before ricocheting back toward the hard floor. It is with a sickening thud that Draven enjoys far too much that her head collides with a boulder. Pools watch as her eyes flicker from side to side, no doubt because of her vertigo caused by the concussion. Draven steps closer to her, until his limbs straddle her body. She is so small beneath him, so fragile, so easily breakable. Draven both craves and despises her – is this what he has become? A creature – as the stranger had called him by the lake – who had been weakened and needed to feed off of feeble prey such as she? Sure, occasionally he enjoyed the easy meal, but he had been enjoying the easy meals for months now. He had lived off of stray pups who had wandered in, but aside from there had only been cave rats and rodents. Once or twice he had become lucky enough to have an adult think to stay in his humble abode only to find their early demise by his will… but was this what he wanted? To be a monster that only the young would fear, but that the strong would laugh at? No. Draven was something more and always had been and thus he froze as he stood over her, a sadistic smile painted across his kissers, not giving away an inch of his indecision. For before him now was a choice – to eat her and be done with it and accept his crutch, or to hold off. To search for larger prey to destroy and feed on… and though this was the more dangerous option, it was also the one that pleased him more. What good or fun was it unless it took skill?

How long he stood there internally arguing with himself, he did not know, but finally he was decided firmly and surely and even as she spoke, pulling him from the debate, her fate was sealed. ‘Who are you?’ Draven chuckled and leaned down, his nose nearing her pelt as he inhaled deeply, her pelt entering nares and emitting their sweet perfume. He starts by her nape and trails it down her side – her shoulder, ribs, flank – until he shoves it to the inside of her thigh before rearing back and licking his lips. His eyes rolled back as he savored each delicate part of the scent that was swirling around in his vomeronasal… yes… he could get used to smelling this every day. To altering it and mixing it with the scent of her blood… of cracked and necrotic skin, wounds that he would not allow to heal… “I am now your master, doll. I own you, and you are therefore my property.” His vocals are a deep baritone and though they are smooth, they are anything but settling. “Your life is forfeit and each day that you live will only be by my goodwill… not that you will necessarily be happy to live very long. You very well wish for death, but such a thing will not be granted until I am done with you.” Draven slowly walks over her and faces away from her and places a back paw onto her flank before reaching down and clamping on her lower limb. With a sharp, strong tug he yanks the limb while simultaneously pushing away with his hind limb. For a second, his muscles bulge and he doubts whether he still has the strength necessary, but then he is rewarded with the sounding ‘pop’ as her femur dislocates from her hip. She screams beneath him and he begins to pull her by that same limb, preventing it from relocating as he picks up a slow but steady trot, dragging her into the darkness.

Though he does not know all of the secrets of the cavern, he knows most of them. More than any other, certainly. And to ensure she cannot escape him, he takes her down turns and paths over and over until her scent has crossed over itself time and time again. For well over an hour he weaves her through tunnels until finally he reaches the mouth of his den a place they have passed by many times before without notice. Draven lets go of her limb and moves to her scruff. “Welcome to your new home, doll. I certainly hope you won’t like it.” His open maw closes around her nape and his sharp teeth dig into her flesh, and in one sharp motion his jerks her into the hidden hole in the floor, tumbling her down a steep, jagged slide into his home. On the way down, she would be lucky to not hit her head and other limbs, or rather she would be lucky not to cut them open. Hitting them would be inevitable. Perhaps the only good thing about sliding down was that because he was no longer pulling on her hind limb, the femur could finally relocate, though the limb would likely be useless for a few days because of the pool of blood that would have collected and clotted in the socket. Draven, however, wastes no time to run to the other entrance of his den, hidden from her eyes, and gracefully leaps down from ledge to ledge, reaching the bottom of the slide at the same time that she does. A purr escapes from his throat as he licks up the blood from the puncture wounds in her neck. “Well, then, doll. What shall I do to you first?

OOC – let me know if you would like anything changed! And I would never kill her without your permission XD

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Ω Draven Ω Untamed Demon Ω Solitary Ω Azura Ω


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