The Cavern of Secrets holds much more than you can imagine. Once a forbidden place, the ban on entrance has been released...yet, is it a good idea to enter?
Once a great battle had been fought in this cavern, against a dark beast that had once - and still might - dwell here. No one knows where he disappeared to, but there are rumours...
I'm Your Worst Nightmare Dressed as your Day Dream ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ‘I… I don’t think so Casanova.’ With that, the slender bodice of the female shot up, back, away from him… Her delicate paws scraped against the cavern floor hastily, and even if Draven had been as blind as she was he would have been able to find her if she ran from him... But she instead took only a step, and then she was nearly fainting, and in that slight second, he was at her side and her weight leaning into his. A deep, dark chuckle rumbled its way out of his chest, and he leaned towards her, the full flesh of his side running along hers, his nares flaring as he inhaled her scent. Why was this one so intoxicating to him? Why did he feel so drawn to her? Why did he want to mark her as his own so that no other would ever dare lay a paw upon her… Even if it meant that he hurt her himself? Why did he want to hide her away from the world, and share the wonderfully macabre secrets of the darkness with her? The feeling of obsession, of posession was so immediately that he had to swallow to keep his heart from leaping out of his throat. Draven was a wolf of extremes, and with Printesa he would be no different - he wanted all of her, or else he would kill her so that neither he nor any other could have any of her. And she was already within the place he held most dear - the twisting labyrinth of Laod Mor. This had been his refuge when he had escaped from Kershov‘s bitch, the bloody Scarlet Knights. And it have been here that he had been reborn into something else, something darker than he ever could’ve been before - the first vampire of this land. The transformation had taken the most evil aspects of him and amplified them, twisting him into the demon he now was. Caidir Olc had never truly felt like home, not like the caverns had. Why not return here, especially if he had this fae to keep him company. He could hide her away, drag her through the caverns, never let her leave. Finally, his heart slowed enough for him to speak, but he found his mouth dry and used it as an excuse to run his tongue over his lips, wishing it was wetted with something else, something of hers - he did not really care which bodily fluid it was, be it blood, saliva, or cum. "Ah, but my dear you do not have much of a choice in this. I will have you, whether you want me to or not. And if I cannot have you, neither shall any other. But to play along with your fancy, how is it exactly that you think that you will get away for me? Hmm?" She was up again, having regained her balance, and was backing away from him.… 'So I will be going now.' Draven raised his eyebrows and let loose a snort, and then swept his paw out before the pair of them despite the fact that she could not see the gesture. "Please, be my guest to try to leave this place. Turn for me and try to hide… There is no other alive that knows these twists and turns, that understands the labyrinth better than I. And I must say, the view of you walking away does put deliciously dirty thoughts into my mind of what I should do to you." Within a few seconds, she was heading back toward him, sweet soprano lyrics offering a deal… It was adorable really, that she thought that she had any choice in any of this… 'How about this… Um… I will stay until I’m well. Then I will leave and no licking my blood. The reminds me of a monster that once try to drink me dry.' Suddenly more intrigued than ever, Draven took a step nearer her, once again invading her personal space. That she apparently already had had experience with a vampire would make this all the more entertaining - it was one thing having to perform the tedious task of explaining everything... and quite another when the prey knew exactly what was coming. His muzzle was above hers, his breath coming down over her face with each word that he spoke. Each syllable was enunciated carefully, purposefully, slowly… "I am such as that monster was, cut from the same cloth. I am the demon in the deep darkness of the night that you fear. So tell me, who is it that had harmed you? I shall tell you if I know them, and if I do, I shall deal with them. Your blood is mine now, whether you want it to be or not. I cannot promise that I will never drink of your veins, but I will restrain myself for now - I have fed recently and I’m full enough to not need to taste your blood… But you do smell so delicious… Perhaps later..." The last two words were soft, spoken as a afterthought, and I was unsure as to whether or not Printesa would even hear them. She gave a sudden 'hmpf', as if her words were final, and it was all amusing, truly amusing. She could think whatever she wanted to - she would learn the truth in time. But then, as if to contradict her previous fear and uncertainty, she brushed against him confidently and began to walk beside him. 'Let’s go, big boy, get me out of this rising sunshine. I’m tired. And so it was the lion that led the lamb into it’s den, somehow in love with the delicate creature who could never fit along side him. But he did as she requested, led her deeper into the caverns and away from the rays of light that were inching closer to them by the second. He had no desire to burn as Lucyne had, not now, not ever. Incessant waves of desire swept through him, a need to touch her, take her, claim her, learn all of her... but he restrained himself. Still, he hurried her through the curves and turns, through tunnel seen and unseen, and sometimes pushed her and turned her even when there was no tunnel, so she would be hopelessly lost. Until, that is, they reached a dead-end. "This is where we shall rest, dear delicate little bird… Or at least rest from walking. You say that you are tired, but I have a need to be truly worn out. " He pushed insistently at her side, his snout at the delicate fold of flesh of her flank, the very tip of his tongue flickering out to taste the inside of her thigh if she didn't dance away from him. He was trying to push her into a corner, so that she could not run from him. His desire for her was almost obsessive, and he would get was that he wanted, no matter the cost. 'Have you been deflowered, little one?" ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ |