Your Sweet Little Eyes, Your Precious Smile . . .

The other lupines at the gathering clearly had no idea what to make of her - and Slavka did not care. She held her grimace-grin for a few moments longer, her midnight hackles shivering along her spine and her claws clenching and unclenching. At the sound of her new King’s voice, however, the gold-splashed lady went absolutely rigid. Once more the entirety of her focus riveted upon his ebony-and-ivory visage, his fierce teal eyes. Her haunches immediately hit the ground where she stood, regardless if he had ordered her to sit or not. Was Slavka the “little mouse?” Did it matter? If he did not want her to sit anymore, then she would stand for him, and be elated to follow such simple and clear orders. As long as he let her stay here, please please please, she would be ever so good for him! The tattered huntress would bring Sindicate all the skinned prey heads he desired. She would pile a mountain of them at his paws. The powerful male’s voice grew in volume when he addressed the whole meeting, the strong timbre of his voice rippling through Slavka like thunder. Everything he said was so beautifully direct… inspiration ignited within Slavka, and her posture shifted proudly upright. Warriors. The strongest of them all. Oh, how dearly Slavka wanted to be strong. And she knew beyond any sliver of a doubt that if anyone could reshape her, could take her meager bones and build them up, it was this savage paragon and his merciless pack.

Eventually, the Alpha graciously opened up his forum for questions. The obsidian male with red eyes that burned was the first to speak. Of course, Slavka paid very little attention to what the beast said. She was too fixated upon the fact that he had no cologne to speak of, other than a faint pall of blood - which ALL the gathered varg wore, given the nature of their entry tickets. What on earth was he? A demon of some kind? This notion thrilled Slavka; she gazed at him in open fascination, numb to the plight of the extremely distressed fae standing next to him. It wasn’t until the devil called the damsel to him and sank his abnormally long fangs into her flesh that Slavka even registered that the girl was there. Her heart slammed into overdrive, bleak emotions triggering at the cacophony of agonized shrieks. Was this allowed? Did Sindicate ask for this?

Uneasy amethysts slid to Sindicate… and when Slavka realized that this was all part of some sort of grand game, her demeanor changed. Gone was her morose attitude, her uncertainty; she sprang back upright like a puppy.

“I join too!”

Slavka’s tail wagged frantically, her whole body practically vibrating with nervous, desperate, starving energy. Her violet eyes shone wildly, slicing from Sindicate to the sobbing wolfess and back again, just like a trained dog waiting for its signal to act. Slavka wanted to show her new Alpha that she was a Good Girl. She desired this very, very badly, and the desire was like pain, all-consuming and terrible and Slavka just wanted to SHRED so that she could free herself from the agony of waiting. Hopping a back and forth a little on her paws, the broken wolfess gave a pitiful whimper. “We start now? Chase?” The poor vulpine-esque woman writhing on the ground was making all sorts of awful noises… the scent of her blood as if poured from her weeping eyes, her nose, her screeching mouth, it struck Slavka as so wrong. Disgusting, gut-churning - as if a deadly disease had been condensed and congealed inside the femme and was now leaking out onto the crimson dust. And even more distressing than this frightening display of prolonged dying was that - while Slavka watched, breathed, tasted the air - she could tell that the signature that clung to this pitiful creature’s pelt was gradually evaporating. The stranger was becoming a Not-Wolf, like the red-eyed male that bit her. “Now!” Slavka demanded, saliva dripping from her jaws. “Now, now!”

They're All I Remember

No Family | No Love | Crith Thalmhainn | xathira