CROW
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dans mes reves, nous marchons main-en-main
Posts: 35
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Post by CROW on Mar 16, 2012 15:09:13 GMT -5
It was the throbbing pain behind her eyes that first woke her from her fitful slumber. It prodded and stung, groaned and ached. She dare not open her eyes for fear the light would intensify the pain. Suddenly she was aware of a warm, wet sensation on the side of her face. It came up around her body, kissing her legs, caressing her stomach, cradling her head in its gentle embrace. Then it ebbed away, leaving her feeling empty and alone. As a mother worrying over its sick child, the sensation returned, gently rocking her in a steady rhythm. Here and gone. Here and gone. Her muscles relaxed as she allowed the flow and ebb of the feeling to slowly take away the pain that pulsed behind her eyes.
There was salt on her tongue. This revelation shocked her, though she couldn't fathom why. She had tasted salt before. Why was this time different? Her lips curled into an unpleasant grimace, crumpled whiskers vibrating. Slowly the red muscle pulled back, disappearing into her massive jaws. With her tongue back in her mouth, she was now aware of something gritty. She ran her tongue along her teeth and ground the bones together. Sand. Salt. Wait. Sand and salt? As the flow of the warm sensation climbed her chest, the tiger cracked an eye. The glare of the sun brought back the pain behind her eyes in a rush that sent her mind reeling. Presently she was lost.
When she resurfaced the flow and ebb had turned cold and grasping. A shiver ran through her body, alighting every tired nerve ending in fiery pain. A low groan came from her partially open maw. She choked halfway through on sand and salt. With great effort she rose on shaky front limbs, lifting her forehalf and releasing a great bellow of coughs. Her lungs cried mercy and she collapsed again, her breathing labored but regular. Another shiver threatened to tear through her exhausted body. The tiger slowly opened one eye, prepared to be sent back into the depths of darkness and pain. This time there was no bright light of the sun. Only its reflected light on the full face of the moon. A breeze kicked sand into her face and she shut her eyes just in time.
If it weren't for the cold touch of the water as it rushed up her body, Proximo might have been content to lay where she was until the end. As it were, she couldn't withstand another bout of shivering. Gathering what precious energy she had left, the tiger once against hoisted her front half into the air, propping herself up on quivering muscles. With a grunt she tried to bring her rear half up as well. She succeeded only in losing balance. The sand was kind enough to catch her, and she lay where she had fallen, breathing heavily, eyes squeezed shut. The throbbing in her skull had increased dramatically, pulsing in time with her heartbeat. This time she fought to stay out of the darkness. Setting her jaw, the tiger tried to rise once again.
She stood on her own four paws, every leg trembling like a leaf in the wind, muscles quivering desperately with the effort. The cloud that had been blocking the light of the moon moved aside, and suddenly Proximo's full form was illuminated like a beacon in the night. Her white fur shone, even beneath the strands of seaweed and sand that caked her body. The tiger's massive body against the tiny beach before the caves seemed like a badly edited photograph. When she dared to open her eyes again, the electric blue of the orbs glimmered with ferocity. Even in this weakened and vulnerable state, she looked all the monster she was bred and trained to be.
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Post by GREYtheFLAILER on Mar 17, 2012 21:19:55 GMT -5
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S P A R T A C U S
Let the fun and games begin, She is vain and broken. Skin is cold and white, Such a lovely, lonely night...
.xXx. Cerulean, avid orbs narrowed in obvious malice, pupils dilating as the massive, ivory male’s body came to a complete pause, not even a single, solitary breath slipping past his parted lips. Adrenaline coursed rapidly through the males veins as he stared down the entirely unaware, grazing doe, his muscles pulling taut with the action, as he fell into a silent crouch, hind legs coiling beneath him like an elastic band pulled tight, and ready to spring. Spartacus was a mightily collected, intelligent male, and he was vitally aware of the flickering of the deer’s enlarged ears, as well as the soft rising and falling of the female’s chest, as she eagerly began filling her stomach with needed nutrition. After landing upon this godforsaken land, Spartacus had been the same way; taking what he could when he could, in order to get a grasp at stability and familiarity. Soon enough, however, reality began to set in, and he’d slowly begun adapting. Not only was this land filled with environments he wasn’t aware even existed, but the animals pulling themselves weakly to shore; that was mind-boggling, all in its own.
Take this thinning, blood-matted deer before the male, for example; he’d sat and watched, for a good ten or so minutes, as she dragged herself from the sand on shaky and unstable legs. The brute had, of course, thought briefly about going after the female then, as taking her life quickly might just be helping that pathetic animal, though of course, the male’s better half talked himself out of a sickeningly righteous action. No, instead he concluded that he would sit, patiently, and wait until the shaken female would think she was in the clear. Then, and only then, would he take her life, seeing as he’d slowly but surely grown out of the capability to feel remorse. So often, the tiger heard frightful stories of males who have succumbed to their nasty deeds, and let it eat them alive. That, however, was so far from true with Spartacus. The though alone brought a bemused, sarcastic little smirk to his maw.
How some could be so, downright piteous, he would never understand.
And so, the male lay crouched, his stomach brushing lightly against the dampened ferns beneath him, muscles tight with exertion. He was a patient male, unafraid to spend time in order to ensure success, and it wasn’t until the female let out a content sigh, her ribcage heaving with the action, in which the tiger took immediate action, hind legs pushing him into an unexpected and lethal lung. Paws outstretched and claws unsheathed, the male latched onto the doe’s hindquarters, and wasted little time to part his jaws and latch onto the base of her neck, as he let his weight go limp, successfully dragging her to the ground. A series of frightened, agonizing noises left the female as she tumbled to the ground, lashing and kicking, though her attempts were inevitably in vain, as without much of an effort, Spartacus latched onto her exposed neck and pressed his ivories down, into the cushion of her heated flesh. After a few moments of holding the position, body poised over the previously lashing animal, the deer fell limp, as life slowly faded from the depths of her eyes. Spartacus pulled back, running his tongue neatly over his reddened chops, before digging in.
It wasn’t long later, once the male had taken his fill and managed to muscle his kill into the branches of a nearby tree for later, in which he caught sight of something remotely pale on the beach; something moving. The usually dull, hardly noticeable light of the moon illuminated her pelt much as it did his own, and immediately, Spartacus’s eyes churned with dark intents of a new nature. The female was in a rather awful condition, or so it seemed from where Spartacus lay, paws dangling lazily from the branch of the tree, and immediately, the male’s thought process began rapidly changing, prodding as to how he could possibly make good of such a situation. If he helped a “comrade” in need, then perhaps he would have someone in return, of whom could use for a favour? And, if by chance, that figure down the way was a female—well, let us just say he’d be more than happy to offer a hand.
Hoisting himself easily to his feet, his muscles no longer aching as the newcomer’s seemed to be, Spartacus heaved himself from the tree, landing easily on all four paws, his balance unfaltering. Some found it daunting, how such a largely muscled, built creature could also have phenomenal balance, though Spartacus paid little attention to such nonsense. If it was a frightening trait to have, then so be it. He hardly gave a shit. The male gave little warning as his paws found sand, and he turned down the strip of beach, nearing the strange tiger. It was finely built thing, for a female, and looked to carry quite the bit of muscle, despite being slightly smaller than Spartacus, himself. He’d seldom came across females as finely muscled as the one he was approaching, and despite her rather ratty, rugged appearance at the moment, the ivory male was aware she may just be a perfect asset.
Once the brute was a few feet away, knowing well she probably took notice of him, he let out a low, gravelly rumble within the back of his throat in both a welcome and a warning. His tail, in which flicked easily back and forth, was held somewhat high; showing off his clear, asserted dominance. Every detail about his posture screamed of power and authority, and yet, a dangerously predatory smirk slipped upon the male’s lips as soon as he came to a pause, feet away from the stranger. “Welcome to the island,” He spoke smoothly, his voice dripping with sarcasm, yet very deep and brooding; dangerous. “a place where all of your worst nightmares just might become a sickening reality.” He added with a low, throaty chuckle, his voice, once again, ringing with pure sarcasm. It was a comment in which would hardly make her feel better, but hey—who implied that Spartacus ever cared?
Heaven is on the way, You can feel the hate, but I guess you never will. I'm on a roll again, and I want an end, 'Cause I feel it creeping in...
Words: 1, 092 Muse: I'm not entirely sure D8 Notes: Sorry, he's being retarded lmfao. And also, sorry if this fails. I did not proof it. D:
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CROW
New Member
dans mes reves, nous marchons main-en-main
Posts: 35
|
Post by CROW on Mar 18, 2012 11:34:35 GMT -5
Her first reaction was to fight, as her previous owners and the mastermind behind her bloodline would have been proud to know, and one could hardly blame her. Alone, confused, weakened, washed ashore on some strange place with no idea how she got there or what to do next, and then a male tiger approaches with a dominant posture and a predatory attitude. It was a wonder she didn't rip his throat out where he stood. The only thing holding her back was, in fact, that she didn't have the strength to move. She barely had the strength to remain standing. Of course this knowledge didn't come to her in rational thought, she was far too exhausted for such a thing. Instead it came as instinct. Something she just simply felt and knew to be true. Though she couldn't say for sure yet, it was this state of exhaustion that might lead to a dismal existence for the rest of her life.
Once she'd figured out there was no way she was going to fight the male--even if she had wanted to--a switch flipped inside her. As she was taught from birth, being dominated was a good thing, and she relaxed under his authority. The tigress stood where she was, legs trembling terribly, massive body braced in such a way she couldn't lose her balance short of being pushed over, and lowered her head and tail. It was unclear whether she'd even heard his words, but she offered no reaction and instead let them die on the sound of the waves--she realized now that the sensation that had both warmly caressed and frigidly grasped her had been the ocean's waves lapping at the shore. As she lowered her eyes she realized that seafoam still bubbled around her paws, rising and falling in that soothing rhythm. It would be okay, now. She had a new master. Someone who would give her direction and explain what to do.
Proximo felt a bit better as she realized that she would once again have tasks. And even more so when she realized that she could regain her strength and complete them with such accuracy as she had never done before. Those electric blue orbs traced a path up the male's front leg, stopping on his jaw, just before her eyes met his. "Proximo." The simple word was both a declaration of her name and a signature of an invisible contract that bound her to him.
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