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All Macaria had wanted was company, was a friend or two. She was a cannibal, yes, but she was still a wolf with emotions and feelings. What she was looking for was something other than the romantic feelings she had for Grey. Something different than the lustful emotions she had for the beings she slept with and then consumed. What she was looking for was kinship. Macaria wanted some sense of normalcy, someone to share her days with even as she spent her nights with either her mate or one of her lovers. Soon enough she came upon one of her packmates, another femme fatale. The ebony colored varg slowed her gait, her shoulders and hips rolling as her stride shortened, and her bright pumpkins plated themselves upon the bodice of the other. The tall, lanky kalak was splayed out over the ground before her, but then she rolled over and slowly stood on shaky paws, but as soon as their gaze met, the other's grimace turned into a grin.
'Macaria was it? Macaria? What's brought you out this late?'
The lass had nodded first once at the conclusion of the first question, and then again at the conclusion of the second. But at the third she shrugged, and then rolled her eyes about, her great, large pools lolling themselves upward to look at the sky. "Where others find enjoyment in the sun, in the beautiful colors of daylight, I find an odd preference for the night. The sky is... quite beautiful is it not? It is vast and endless, and either it is constantly shifting around us or us around it or a strange mixture of the two, and though it is never the same, it is nearon a year before it comes about to a similar view. The tiny pinpoints of light come from things that we can only imagine and make tales for - are they suns like ours, or perhaps gods above? Are they static, permanent spots upon the perfect black canvas? Or dynamic, changing in their own world like we do in our own, only along a different timeline. It is fascinating, isn't it?" Macaria moves to Kari's side and rubs herself along the full width of the other, both to mark Kari with her scent, and to be marked by hers. Macaria was only was intimately accustomed with Kershov's scent, and that was because it lined all of the pack. But she wanted to be able to track Kari down - if they were friends at the end of this encounter.
"But that is my explanation, what is yours? Why are you not sleeping through the night like a good little she-wolf? Why traverse these deadly trails, this slippery terrain in the dead of night? Why risk it all, happiness and health, to have a few moments alone when you can barely see anything?" Macaria was intrigued by the other, and the initial interest by spurred by the other's breed of all things. The eboness had very little experience with the kalaks - as far as she knew, they had mostly kept to their own pack up in Cold Summers. She knew nothing of their history, their lines. All she knew was that most other wolves distrusted them and warned against their manipulation. Macaria had spent her entire life being manipulated - by her mother, her first captor, her second captor, and then the vampiric twins. She had no desire to be manipulated again, but she would risk it if it meant some entertainment for her. Besides - she was all too often the manipulator now, and she enjoyed it. If Kari tried to play her, perhaps Kari would be the one who ended up getting played. Or, perhaps, they would play nice together and behave.
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||Macaria||Femme Fatale of Uyaraut||Adult||Grey Wind||
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