[M]  Not the one that they need pray for [P - Ryslen]


3 y/o large Female
"  their smiles of plated gold; "

Long limbs graced in the beauty of her pastel colors drew her from the grove of her home up through the strip of land that bordered the mountains and the sea. It was so good to finally be home, she'd found Irial there and she could only hope that soon the rest of her family would join them. This was a walk she'd taken regularly, it was the opposite direction of the giants forest where many of the bear affinity had once called home, allowing only a strip of river to separate them from their enemy a stupid move in her opinion, but they'd loved that forest, much like she'd loved the grove. The woman allowed a gentle huff to pass through pale blue nostrils, flaring them as she inhaled the cold winter air, the ground was still covered in thick blankets of snow throughout much of Nidria. The grove and the path up to the falls which led further up north were no exception, her paws nearly disappearing beneath a facade of white with each step. 

Her shoulder was starting to heal nicely now, the deep bite wounds where the flesh was once ripped now held good scabbing and while it was still sore with each step it didn't bleed or rip back open with simply walking about. 

Eventually her casual pace would bring her upon the falls, even the great depth of winter could not stop its water from cascading from the mountains, the sound of it brought some peace to her thoughts. Slender muzzle tilting up as she paused a ways away from the water pooling over its edge. The falls were extremely tall, towering high into the clouds, she allowed her gaze to rest upon them for a moment longer. She needed this, to take an evening of peace in the chaos which was her life right now. It consisted only of blood spill and constant fights, along with the stress of needing to rebuild a kingdom. Slowly she drew closer to the falls, nearing the small pool that nested at it's base she allowed herself to lower upon her rump, wings slumping lazily. After a few moments she lowered herself onto her belly, crossing her front paws. 

"Anaru speaking,"

Table by Centience. Art Nikkayla @ Deviantart



8 y/o xlarge Male
Alcatraz, Male Raven


Deep thickets of towering trees and endless canopies gave way to soft streams of light as a massive creature emerged from the treeline. A thick, untamed pelt of crimson stripped in jagged darkness donned the massive lupine figure, shadows and night pouring off his very being. Power radiated from his every orifice, as effortless and natural as breathing. It fell off his great paws, pitch darkness pooling onto the soft snow as he crunched his way through fresh banks. He was death, lithe and dangerous. 
The winds held promise of spring as it brushed with hesitance across the monster's fur, just the faintest hint of winter lingering in its scent, despite the snow littered across the grove. The beast of a male had somehow managed to fall into an almost hibernation during the winter months, the usually sleepless brute burying himself deep away in mounds of furs, hides and feathers, only awakening briefly to sate the hunger in his belly and thirst in his throat. 

He hadn't slept so soundlessly in years.

And when he'd woken, stomach empty and head groggy, he'd caught a familiar scent. Intertwined with another familiar scent. Soaked in blood. After months in dreamless sleep and gorging on skinny rabbits too dumb to stray from his den, curiosity enveloped him like a loving blanket he welcomed with gusto. 
It hadn't taken long to track her. Especially not when he'd known where she'd be. As he crunched through the snow, frost on his pads and flakes of melted snow like jewels on his dark pelt, the shaa of the waterfall grew louder and more insistent. His shadows fell of him in waves, a dark cloak in a world of endless light.

He couldn't quite remember when it was he's met Anaru for the first time. Nor could he remember the last time. Theirs was a meeting of chance and circumstance. A truly epic fuck up resulting in one of the most impossible strings of fate twining together in a bloody red knot. If he was completely honest (despite his knack for spinning yarn full of lies, he told the truth much more often than many gave him credit for. It seemed to be much more detrimental than any deceit he could think of.) the male truly didn't care to remember the how or why of it. The simple fact was that an understanding had been formed between the two resulting in a strange and intimate partnership.

Beyond that, he wasn't really interested.

However, the particular scent mingled around the blood on her pelt had piqued his interest in a way that hadn't been done in months.

When he came upon her, evening swelling across the sky, clouds blotting out the distant stairs that lazily blinked in the horizon, she was resting at the base of the roaring falls. The pure pastel of her never ceased to amaze him, his glittering golden eyes staring at her figure unabashedly. She seemed at peace despite the dried blood at her shoulder and strange angle of her wings, her sheer rainbow cloth draped about her hindquarters as if to give pretense of modesty. A sneer came to his black lips, and the creature made no qualms about hiding his approach. More feline than wolf in his swagger, and while the shadows made his steps silent, they could not hide the crunch of snow as he loomed over the delicate female before him.

"Hello, precious." his blood red maw was inches from her elongated ears, his deep voice a lover's caress. He'd placed his body directly over her's, his wine colored legs pinning her in place as he sniffed at her shoulder. Despite how his amber eyes narrowed, his grin was sickly, dangerously saccharine. 

"Why, oh why," he whispered sweetly, nuzzling at her ear, her check, her neck. He lowered his body onto hers, effectively using his larger mass to pin her in place. The gesture could be seen a gentle, loving even. His dripping fangs hovering over the wound said otherwise. "do you smell my like brother-in-law?"

He didn't wait for an answer. In one fell swoop, he took her.

Even when he was done and both were sated, he did not move. Instead, he inspected her wound, golden eyes narrowing. Without rhyme or reason, the beast began another form of work, cleaning at the bits of dried blood staining her otherwise pretty pelt, taking care not to rip open the freshly scabbed over skin.

While others would confuse it with affection, there would be those who knew the truth: whimsy and the unexpected were just a part of Ryslen's charm.

"Ryslen speaking," | "Alcatraz speaking"

Table and art by Centience.


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