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Post by Lady Flight on Nov 25, 2009 18:35:06 GMT -5
Her paws were slick with blood. Ginger and sorrel colored fur had soaked up what it could of the vivid crimson nectar, but with more pouring out there was no way to contain it. It had soaked onto her chest, bathed her front limbs with the now lukewarm moisture that could hardly be seen against her dark strands. It did make her torso unnaturally shiny, lips splattered with the macabre of her deed now done seeing as her victim lay so very near death across her paws. To a passing viewer this may be interpreted as a lovers embrace for the corpse she was salivating over was distinctly male, though not wolf it still had the necessary equipment to impregnate most things of the canine genus. Krankheit might've told any other that they were correct with their assumptions for she had long since started to associate sexual activities with death as foreplay. Sadly when such things occurred, her partners never lasted long past the prelude to actual entertainment.
Laying on her belly among the grave soil made Krankheit's ebony pelt appear less magnificent, grungy with grit and a generous layer of snow that she and her accomplice had rolled through. She wasn't looking to attract anyone other than her coyote friend whom she'd been chasing from the beaches here. He stared at her with yellow eyes, mouth open, trying desperately to keep breathing and the jaws around his throat weren't helping. Clawed paws made small convulsive movements in the already disturbed snow. A prickling warmth transfered from his body to hers, jumping like vibrations through metal and acting as if she were a conduit. Made her veins sing and bones rattle like a cicada. She'd never get tired of the sensation of the hunt; even better when it was a distant relative.
He gave another valiant thrash and she bit down harder, moving under her like warm, furry water just thick enough to grasp. Although Krankheit was a habitual, sociopathic wolf killer, she deemed it necessary to spread her virtues to other related species who just happened to strike her fancy. That compulsion to mangle the living such a frustrating need but so delicious she had to share it.
Teeth embedded almost to hilt in his neck she felt that resilient pulse die at last. Pulling back slowly she hovered over the incisions she'd made, traced them with her tongue; then the next time over the punctures she plunged that thick, meaty appendage a little deeper but still strangely gentle. Almost like she was afraid to wake her fallen companion. "You have been a naughty, naughty boy..." She cooed though knowing nothing of any transgressions committed by the creature she wanted to lull him like she loved him. When she retracted again she let her tongue rest in the dell of her jaw, rolling the tang in her mouth as if trying to guess the flavor of a wine. Bending down again she gingerly stripped flesh from the area but with such a tenderness as not to ruin the two savagely perfect marks she'd made. It still gushed red, hot serum onto the snow when she'd sheared away fur and tissue to see the larynx for what it was, the structure of God's expertise.
Krankheit finally plunged her tongue in again, widened the slackened tissue made a little squelching noise. When this happened, the female closed her eyes as if to listen as if the sound could tell her something she hadn't been able to decipher when he'd been alive. But you could be assured that wasn't the motive behind her endeavors. She was savored the sound. The way someone closes their eyes to a particular piece of music. Close your eyes so that sight doesn't steal some of the audio. Relish it like you may never get another chance to experience it.
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Post by Snowey on Nov 26, 2009 13:07:18 GMT -5
Ebony pads graced the ashen colored earth passing by graves of humans a copy of his father with dark blues a large build and an ebony coat whom had long since been deceased leaving behind a staggering twenty three blood children and two non-blood children, a mate and a number of whores he raped. It was quite obvious why he was here with all the misdeeds his father commited he surely thought he was here in his dreadful death of sleeplessness haunted with dreams of the brute that killed his daughter Silver her mother Rosebloom uncle Aljan appeared to him in his dreams causing nightfrights paralysis in the wake of his nights driven to the brink of insanity before the reaper cut him down. They always had a large family anyways with most of the time pure timber running through their veins but with the son of Malice the lines became impure by Curse's lustful needs the son Phantom impure with fantasy winged, dog, and timber blood flowing through him. Agile movements made the mysterious male more mysterious they were fluid but if you looked back at the lines of the impure male you could see why it was so natural for movement, he had been sniffing around picking up the scent of death, tainted earth, rotting flesh, and a female. Maw rose then split letting out a haunting howl then lowered at the end of the last syllable he watched for movement if there was one good thing his father did it was taking care of them. [/center][/size] |
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