Forgotten but unforgiven

[Taboo]

Jewels glittered amongst tantalizing shores. A closer step and the further it drew away, remaining the ideal, untouchable paradise. Warm shades clashed with pallid blue. It remarkably managed to brew endless fire flickering from the sky above. The speckled and rare white within the faded sapphire alluded to the base as it stretched on to the ruby, topaz, and brasses burning the rest of the world. And Gods .... the heat. It flared to such unbearable levels, the mind only comprehended it through constantly rippling air rather than the blistering sensation consistently lingering on temperamental flesh. This delicious pyre swallowed cumbered victims too untrained to a full-fledged inferno. In spite of all the deaths harvested, there were the few who adapted and fed off the living energy. Only ugly, eternally tormented scavengers raked the horizon and jagged pikes. Silence suffocated everything except brief, broken caws of dismay. Even those who fell knowingly to their deaths clenched jaws together and slaked a hungering, muted devil. Empty eyes with no passion except to sate starving appetites peered over ledges at the new intruder. Secrets of unfulfilled lives dangled in their oval orbs. They planned on collecting her secrets, too. Ideas of disappointment lurked in their growling viscerals when they saw the reflection of voided hopes. Ghastly beasts retreated to their hidden lairs…she wasn’t prey, she was one of them. Once the predators went back to conserving their energy for the next hunt, hardly anything stirred except the animal they were previously studying.

Breathing escaped in difficult gasps. Lungs pumped harder than normal to collect the almost unusable oxygen ruined by the humidity. Realizing now that summer made living in Terra of Silicis impossible, Ix-Chel believed herself to be the only lone canine, let alone wolf, to be roaming through. More like clawing. No way in hell does someone just linger casually through this. Despite the possibly dangerous plunge in blood pressure and extreme discomfort, a devious pride shimmered in sync with the heat waves. She trekked through the canyon’s emptied ravine out of intrigue to see what laid after and desperado. The scene she arrived at horribly clutched to disappointment. The mouth of the peaks opened up to reveal nothing but unbroken sand. No trees or brush even somewhat dressed up the withered terrain. Only a gritty death trap yawning forever to meet an unwilling horizon. Despite her bleak discovery, Ix-Chel pulled back blistered kissers to reveal a challenging and crazed grin. Few managed the crossing feat, and even less made it back. The sudden realization that she only completed half her trek split her logical thoughts into irrational insurrection. Even now, her hazel eyes scanned and saw partially decomposed corpses lining the rocky walls and desert opening. Shoulder blades jutted in circular motions as the she-wolf turned around to face the journey back. Paw hesitated to touch the ground, although it long ago calloused itself to the burning texture. She knew she couldn’t possibly make it back today. Fortunately she invested time and energy into finding a decent source of water. Still, there were miles to go before she rested….

Sweat poured in unabashed streams along her matted body. The sun captured the framing beads and garishly displayed all the exotic colors of her fur palate. Chestnuts, mahoganies, and ambrosials outshined the washed grays and cremes. Ix-Chel’s proud spine bowed as she limped over to a wide natural basin obscured by a narrow pathway through the cliifs. Collapsing at the edge, she began drinking greedily. Slowly her mind crawled out of the smoldering haze it sunk into while her body delved into survival mode. She wondered if it was pure luck, determination, or a mixture of both that had sustained her. Ever several minutes or so, she’d pull her head to breathe heavily before once more attempting to satisfying an insatiable need. After feeling bloated and overwhelmed, the fae raked her gaze over the canyon. Noises were now distinguishable. Growls, clacks, and clashing dialects voiced to challenge the quiet. Ix-Chel guessed this was one of the largest water holes with so many creatures gathered around. Sometimes she spotted fighting breeds in the rocks. This place was heavily guarded territory…although none dared to actually linger by the water side unless it was necessary. It created too much vulnerability. Even now, glaring eyes rested on her defeated form. Calculating, wondering if victory was possible against her. Her kind wasn’t familiar to them, so most glided along the shadows and fiery camouflage. A drawn out sigh fluttered from her vocals as her tired crown rested amongst her mitts. She needed to find overhang or protective covering…not from the sun [as it already was beginning to retreat] but to declare a territory for herself. Otherwise her open flaunting would allure the aggressive. Ix-Chel doubted she could summon enough energy in time to avoid it.

As an hour passed, death pressed against her beating heart. It wanted her desperately and was frustrated by the numerous times escaped on fraying threads. A cougar hung tersely on a low-leveled ridge, observing her carefully. Every time it coiled its muscles to stand up and approach, Ix-Chel released a chilling snarl that caused it to sit once more. But those golden, miscreant chasms never roamed far from her. Three black silhouettes circled above her, screeching gleefully at the meal possibilities. What had normally aided her in survival no longer crashed through her system; she overused it while walking through the desert. Instead of feeling more refreshed, her muscles ached and cramped more than ever. For the first time since she was young, she felt the earth swallowing her up. She had hoped that it would resurrect fear and the passion to live, but her spirit echoed nothing. However, a certain coldness tingled along her nerves. Tail curled up alongside her gnarled coat to leave a small circuit of warmth. She wasn’t even sure if she hoped there was an afterlife or not. It might just mean feeling the same goddamn extension of agony before becoming irrevocably numb. Overhead, the sky darkened into rose blushes and violet smears. Her snarls at the cougar died down into meek growls. It no longer sat but stood against the velvet background. Its blunt maw opened into a mocking grin. Not much longer now, it realized. Ears flicked back against her skull as Ix-Chel situated herself to ignore her screaming body.

Word count: 1067
Mood: Murdered muse

[Asphyxia]

[bg=5a4027][atrb=width,445,true][atrb=border,0,true] The heat stretched over the horizon, and even as dusk was slowly coming upon him, Rythen knew what this meant. Danger. This was when the predators became the most active. Particularly the wild cats. Their night vision aided them greatly in these rocky mountains and most often, when their prey tried to escape, they fell to their deaths simply trying to climb along the rocky walls to escape. The cougars almost always got their feast. Yet it was here that Ry had been calling home for the last several months and how he had survived…. Perhaps it was how similar these lands were to those he had once called home. Maybe this was why he found comfort in their deadly haven. He knew lands like these inside and out. He knew how to climb the rocks without death dragging him into the depths and he knew how to elude any predators larger than himself. But he wasn’t always so lucky. The distinct sound of a snake rattling its tail caught his attention and dragged his gaze a few feet away to a snake that had curled up and began wagging its tail furiously in what it hoped was a display threatening enough to fend off the larger wolf. Rolling his shoulders broadly, he stared at the creature momentarily. Normally, he might take it up on the challenge it presented, but right now, it was decided he should simply leave the snake be. Acoustics pulled back against his skull as he tipped his mug to it in acknowledgment and shifted his weight as he edged away from the snake. In his experience, even with something as small as a spider, you were never to turn your back to it. Not to take your eyes off of it until it was well out of reaching you. Nostrils flared as he took in the scent of the canyons. Silicis was his home, yet it was still calling for his death. Still tried to claw its way towards his body and drag it into the depths of its hungry maw. Plume wagged behind his frame lightly. As he stalked slowly towards the canyons ledge from where he stood, he came upon a sight quite intriguing. A female wolf was exhausted and barely dragging her body along the canyons, probably in an attempt to find water. She appeared exhausted, hot and dehydrated. A light smirk tipped the corner of his large mug, acoustics tugging forward in her direction. She hadn’t spotted him and was probably too out of it to notice anyway. But it wasn’t that which tipped him off to her being that dehydrated, so much as it was the cougar that stalked her. Had she even noticed it or did she not care? His smirk quickly left his maws, his dark amber spheres dragging between the two to judge the distance between them. The cougar was climbing along the rocky walls, carefully keeping its distance as it attempted to make up its mind about when to strike. As was the cougar way in these lands, it would probably conserve its energy until dusk when the female would be further on her way towards deaths happy welcoming. The female appeared to have a much thicker, painted coat than himself. His was light in coloring and he didn’t have nearly as thick of an undercoat, so the heat didn’t get to him nearly as much. Granted, he had always lived in these kinds of lands and had grown accustomed to them. His pads were thickly calloused over the years, his muscles thick and taut from the years he had been climbing the mountains. She was in a vulnerable state, in a place that didn’t agree with what she was used to. He wouldn’t make a move. Not yet. Rythen would watch her instead. He’d keep an eye on her. She was on her way in the direction to the watering hole anyway, so he made no attempt to change her direction. Hopefully, she would reach it before the skies darkened and the cougar lost patience in its cull. Silent as a mouse that lived in the rocks, he began climbing his way downward in her direction. He stayed a good distance and kept out of sight of the cougar. The cat might turn on him if it felt threatened and he wasn’t quite prepared, for he had yet to see the cats weakness. Lips curled slightly as a growl formed in his wide chest, quickly dying before his breath escaped to ensure nobody could hear him. Moving faster, Rythen was able to get to the watering hole before either of the other two did. He was sure she would make it. Hoped she would. Tipping his crown, he slowly stretched his chassis out in the shadows, keeping away from sight of the wolf or the cougar. It took several more minutes and lots of patience on his part until the female finally reached the watering hole and collapsed at it. Brow furrowed as his gaze searched for the cougar. Spotting it, he watched as its patience slowly dwindled. The large wild cat was hungry and hunger was always a fierce fight in these lands. The vultures that swung their wings above were just waiting for the opportunity to steal a carcass from the predator. But not this day… This day, they would not get what they wanted. Rythen normally would have left any animal to the cougar. But a wolf that was still fighting for her life? He had to help somehow. He’d done enough damage in his time. Never, did he want to go back to that. It seemed that the she-wolf was slowly regaining back her consciousness and logical mind state. This was his chance. If the cougar saw two of them, especially two strong wolves, it might change its mind and search for an easier prey-item. If they were unlucky, it would attack and judging from the females state, she might not be able to fully fend for herself. Leaving his life hanging in the balance. Gathering his limbs beneath himself, he lifted his body lazily from the hot earth. Pushing off his hind-legs, he leapt from the shadows and quickly began sauntering towards the female. He wanted to appear non-threatening to her, but threatening to the cougar and such would be a difficult feat. Locking his gaze upon the wolf, he quickly addressed himself, hoping she might realize what he was doing. “That there cougar’s been stalking you for quite some time, wolf. His patience dwindles.” He stayed at least ten feet from her, giving her the space she might be more comfortable keeping to herself, but close enough to let the cat see that there was no longer one, but two wolves. Causing, hopefully, for a change in judgment and perhaps a change in mind. Shifting his weight, he stayed standing, glancing at the hungry cat. “The names Rythen. You’re not from around here. If you’re finished your fill, it’ll be safer back at my dens.” He cast a sidelong glance at her, observing her slowly. “You were willing to challenge these lands, don’t tell me you’re ready to give up the challenge yet.” He let a teasing, challenging smirk cross his mug. She appeared the type to want a challenge, the type with a competitive edge. If he could get her up and ready to escape the cat…. It was with the cats loud growl to their side that his muscles stiffened, his stance widening to prepare himself for an attack, should the female not make up her mind to join forces with him and give up instead. "While it's entertaining waiting for you to make up your mind on whether or not you intend to give up, that cats prepared to make it up for you, darlin'. wordcount;; one thousand, three hundred-nine lyrics;; silence

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[Taboo]

Two emotions burrowed underneath pelt and flesh, only two root and spar over Ix-Chel. A resounding chuckle with subtle traces of mirth bubbled from within. It escaped and spilled over the narrow canyon path and bounced off the ridges. The savage sounds that had increased over the last hour ceased suddenly. Her laugh startled and disturbed them for a brief several minutes before they returned to their self-absorbed worlds. Even the mountain lion’s grin vanished into perplexity as it stared at the exhausted, crazed wolf. She remembered crossing paths with many religious devotees to the afterlife, supernatural events, ethereal spirits, and the like. Most of them instantly zoned on her flippant and careless attitude with an obsessive desire to alter her view on the world. When she couldn’t shake them off, when they were still hell-bent on conforming her, she pretended to ‘see the light.’ Then she, once again, collected her peace. A certain instance struck her right then. A preacher crossed paths about several months after the second worst thing in her life. He saw the despair in her lives, and bloomed out his chest to prepare a very cut-and-dry speech that he had probably delivered in exact sentiments to everyone else he met.

"You are a beloved daughter of Fenris. You were given special talents to spread out and nourish other lives. You were chosen to bring good among wolves. Let that bring you happiness. You--” Ix-Chel interrupted, her hackles beginning to rise. For the first time, she felt genuine bloodlust creeping along as her eyes burned a light crimson mixed with orange. “If so and so loved me, they wouldn’t have taken everything from me!” She busted out angrily as claws unsheathed from soft pads. The bruja, who looked only a year older than her, twitched a condescending and fake omniscient smile. “So many ask the same question. Try to be original with unbelief. The reason why you have lost, is so that you can strength and grow, m’dear. You gain in the future.” Her stare soured into a downright glare. He didn’t give a damn about what she was feeling, he only wanted to feed his arrogance. “Perhaps you would be right, hijo de puta, if I had something left. The problem is, if you take away the sun, the oxygen, and rich soil from a seed, it is impossible to grow.” [/b]A smirk crept across her slender maw at the confusion racking the youthful wolf from her unknown expression. “I bet you still cry about the things you’ve lost, too. You just pretend that your faith is unapproachable and immovable.” With that, she left a despairing hessian alone with his dark thoughts.[/i]

So many talk about how the verge of death gives meaning and substance to life. That is why we hang onto it so desperately. The only thing that even remotely drove Ix-Chel away from accepting death was the possible pain of being ripped into pieces. Out of all the ways she could have died, it had to be one of the more agonizing ones. She fought the second feeling the hardest. An all-gnawing, poisonous depression descended on her. She accomplished so little in life and was so unwanted. She was wrong - for the first time she could feel. A terrible and consuming grief. A single tear glazed over her cheek and remained suspended, glistening on her dirtied cheek. Before she continued down the path of self-pity, a voice rose out of the hypothetical shadows and snared her attention. Flattened ears perked up as her crown swiveled for the source. Nothing short of shock registered on her features at seeing a healthy, even radiant wolf standing only some feet away. She knew by the rugged look he carried well, that he wasn’t just some passerby, but actually lived here. What insane maniac would choose to live here? He affirmed her assessment by stating she wasn’t from around here. “Of course I’m not,” she said without thinking, still in a heated daze. “Who would ever choose to be from around here?” When she realized how discourteous her words fell, especially from someone who just popped out of his possibly cozy den to warn her, she blushed deeply. As she stared somewhat disbelievingly at him, optics swirled from their jaded hues to her typical bronze-golden color.

He mentioned challenges and asked her to continue on. Her mind latched onto a different tune, one like her that Ix-Chel entertained it for a minute or two. How would it be to just run head onto the cougar, and just let it eat her in front of him? A rather gruesome smile widely stretched along her elongated muzzle as ideas of blood and gore danced across her head. Then her death wouldn’t be so boring or unmemorable. She’d have the last shock factor to carry her onto…well probably becoming a non-entity. Or what if she attacked him? But instead of trying, just baiting him enough until he killed her. Then he would definitely not forget her. If Rythen [She thinks that’s what he said. Her rationality dissipated long ago.] carried any conscience, he definitely wouldn’t. Ix-Chel stirred and sat up, her vision swirling a bit. A pulsating migraine concentrated on one small area and throbbed violently. Delusional glee ebbed off as a more solemn perspective washed over her. No, she wouldn’t give in to such cowardice behavior. The flavor of death just tasted so good, it was hard to want to climb back on the ledge and move on. A long sigh dragged out before finally attempting to raise herself on all fours for the first time in hours. She stumbled and collapsed back to the ground, collecting even more filth on her body. She instinctively glanced over at the predator. The cougar had moved closer in the last twenty minutes, but froze tentatively at spotting Rythen. It looked frustrated and genuinely pissed off enough to still try and attack them both. Ix-Chel realized that she didn’t have time to relearn walking if she genuinely wanted to live. After one more try, she stabilized herself and quickly observed her unexpected hero. He looked so handsome in his confidence, protectiveness, and slight drawl. Or perhaps that was heat stroke talking. If they weren’t in dire circumstances, she’d probably wink at him and give some nonsensical comment.

Now that she stood, a sudden barrier dropped, and Ix-Chel now accessed clarity and focus. A sudden desire to spend time berating herself cropped up, but she shook it off. Later. “Okay, I’m ready to go. You lead, I’ll follow. I may not be highly resistance to critical temperatures, but rock climbing I can do.” Everything around her still seemed disorienting and fuzzy, but not enough to deter her. She craned her neck to once again view the leering cat. It appeared to still be making up its mind, but watched them nonetheless. “Oh my name’s Ix-Chel, by the way.” Funny how her name ended up to be the last sentence, as if it was the least important thing to introduce herself. But in this circumstance, it probably was the case.

Word count: 1,188
Mood: Upbeat[/color][/size]

[Asphyxia]

[bg=5a4027][atrb=width,445,true][atrb=border,0,true] “No… Please, I… I can’t tell you anything… Please.. D-don’t hurt me..” The panic-stricken wolf stared wide-eyed at its tormenter, her eyes rimmed red with tears and pain, her tongue lolling as she panted in her pain and exhaustion. “Until you tell us… What we need to know..” Her chin fell to her chest as she gasped for air, trying desperately to breathe and handle the pain inflicted upon her. Already, his comrades had left her bloody and bruised, broken and battered upon the ground. She couldn’t tell him what his men wanted to know.. She would not betray those she loved. She could not. Her silver-shined spheres glittered with her tears, her pride glowering in their midst. She slowly raised her crown and stared at him, searching his eyes for that pain, that torture she’d seen in him. He didn’t like what he was going to do to her. He didn’t enjoy it. He didn’t even want to do it. He had to. Was he keeping himself safe, or some loved ones safe? She held onto that as she pursed her lips together, her chin shivering as her tears simply rolled down her cheeks. He stared at her with a cool, stoic expression, the very expression she’d seen on those that had opposed them in the wars. But his frown told her everything, his eyes gave him away. “If I… Let you go, you cannot return to those you love… You cannot return to your pack.” Her eyes glanced at him, heavy-lidded with the realization of what he was saying. “You’ll help… me…?” Rythen’s brow knit together, his gaze shifting to the entrance to the cave, probably picking out where the guards stood. Was it her pride that he had quickly grown respect for? Her courage? What was it? Through torment from the guards, she had refused to speak. And even now, he knew she wouldn’t speak, no matter what he inflicted upon her. He couldn’t harm her. “Do you, or do you not understand what I said?” She stared at him, glanced at the cave entrance, then slowly nodded her crown. Rythen stared at her for a moment, his expression finally changing. But she was still uncertain of what it was. “Through this way, there’s an exit, you should find your freedom, but there are guards up there. I’ll go with you, I’ll protect you, but you’re going to have to run. You cannot look back.” The female nodded as she followed him towards the rocks that he nudged aside and quickly followed him up what appeared to have once been a fox hole. Rythen stared at the cougar, golden spheres gazing over the wild cats large, flexing muscles as it paced on the cliffs just a short distance away. With one leap, it could be upon them, but it seemed slightly more wary now that there were two wolves instead of the one wolf that was giving up. It had been obvious, the way Ix-Chel had simply radiated her thoughts, had shown it in the way her body was slowly giving up. Acoustics tipped forward, spheres narrowing as he glared back at the cougar, daring it to come after them. He’d fought cougars before. Some he’d lost, others he had won, but he had never died, which he supposed was what mattered. Cocking his crown slightly, he shifted his eyes to their corners to view the female, keeping his skull in the direction of the cougar, more to show the cat he was ready for its advancement. “Those of us who can handle it out here. Those of us who have nowhere else to go, I suppose.” He let a smirk cross his lips. Did she regret how rude her question had sounded? But as he thought on it, she had collapsed back to the ground. A light growl formed in his chest. The cougar was pissed off, but it wasn’t prepared to give up its meal. They may have been opportunistic hunters, but this was probably its only even remotely easy opportunity it had been provided with in months. The cat was skinny, but its muscles were still thick. The wolf was standing. Finally. Rythen gave a quick, hard glance at the cougar, before he nodded his crown to the rocky cliffs on the opposite side of the canyon they’d both entered upon. “I’ll stay at your back and keep an eye on that there cougar, you just keep an eye on your footing.” Would her pride be bruised at that? At him suggesting she needed to? But then, she was exhausted and she had already collapsed before. On a rocky cliff, it wasn’t an ideal situation to have happen. “I live to the north end of the canyons, about halfway up the cliffs. That cat may find it easy to climb up there, but she won’t be able to get into the dens. She’s far too large.” He didn’t turn his back to the cat, but walked sideways instead, remaining readied for its imminent attack. He smiled as he finally learned the name of the pretty, young fae next to him. Ix-Chel. It was certainly different, but it suited her. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance Ix-Chel, even under such… dire circumstances.” It was then that he noticed that crouch, that on sleek move that shouted a pounce. The cat had crouched, its shoulders spiked upward, his back arched as its muscles all rippled. As it leapt through the air, Rythen growled and shoved his shoulder against Ix-Chel’s. “We have to move, now. The dens are right up there, you can’t miss it, get moving!” Rythen turned, facing the cougar who landed easily next to the watering hole and made its advance towards them. Its eyes were clearly focused on the easier target of the two. But it was a young cougar, a less experienced. wordcount;; none hundred, eighty-one lyrics;; the swell season - the moon

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[Taboo]

His golden sun-orbs glazed over…frosted with the current slide of a memory veiling his focus temporarily. She picked up that expression well, considering Ix-Chel wore it for years before the crackling membrane of remembrance faded to black, and there was no longer any reason for her to lose her concentration. Her tassle twitched, wondering if she reminded him of someone, and if the memory was deep and intriguing. The fae entertained the idea of being a vessel of stirring pasts. A dull, yet vibrant edge of bitterness still resided underneath her plush exterior…and memories were one way to create such a unique pain compared to something else. It was probably the only sadistic desire she carried.

Receptors twitched and split in two directions: one towards Rythen and one towards the cougar. Ix-Chel was still toying with different versions of her death, enjoying the adrenaline once again beginning to renew itself in her body. She had a strong feeling that the strange brute’s voice carried a strong influence on reviving her dwindling survival instinct. Her earlier unintentional insult registered on the hessian, but still she made no motion to truly apologize. She hadn’t apologized in over a year, and today didn’t seem to be the time to break that silence.

At this point, her posture had stabilized. Life coursed through her veins, and brought back her vivacious and maddening personality. His instructions struck a chord, and Ix-Chel bit down most of the quips she wanted to say except one. “Mm demanding.” Her tones developed a sultry note before she quickly brushed aside the moment with an assertive nod. Turning her now pressurizing body, she took one leap onto a deep jutting edge, and began bounding up the rocks with more energy than she believed she had. A smile unfurled at the ends of her chapped lips, a little thrilled at the adventure she was having with this handsome, mysterious hellion. The young creature hoped he had a sense of humor, and maybe they could entertain each other. It had been a while since Ix-Chel didn’t find herself bored with her own kind.

But even as she circulated through these possibilities, her mind nimbly latched onto each cache, only stumbling several times. Her muscles bulged through her silk derma layer and bragged her hidden strengths. She turned her crown somewhat, her body barely supported onto the forty foot precipice she clung to. The cougar was starting to move, its maw snarling furious curses. Before it started to climb and most certainly catch them at a far too vulnerable moment, Ix-Chel released a horrible bay, unlike a typical melody. It resounded a war note with an unnatural death scream added to it that she taught herself against predators. The cougar stopped dead in its tracks and eyed her warily before circling beneath them, willing to feed on their broken bodies should they fall.

It took a good ten minutes before she reached the safety ledge that angled down into small openings only big enough for an average-sized wolf to head through. Without looking back for Rythen, she entered the dark entrance only to have it open to twice its size once she burrowed a good four feet through. Ix-Chel’s pupils deepened to adjust as they began to penetrate the darkness. The uneven ground proved oddly comforting as she waited for Rythen to appear next.

[Asphyxia]

[bg=5a4027][atrb=width,445,true][atrb=border,0,true] They had outnumbered the two of them. She, battered, unable to fight at her strongest, he, one man, one strength… The wolves circled around them, their backs pressing together as they stared at Rythen’s pack, at the wolves who wreaked havoc and tortured females, whelps, whole families, brought slaughter and pain to those around them. Rythen’s muscles tensed, a vein working in his jaw as he attempted to think of a way for her to escape. At least to get her out of there. He could feel her muscles tensed against his, pressing firmer against him in her fear of the situation. But her muscles were relaxing. She was losing hope. Hope of escaping, of living. Rythen’s acoustics flattened against his skull, his brows knitting together as he clenched his canines closed. Determined, was the brujo. He had helped to bring this upon her and by damned, he would help to get her out of the situation. Narrowed spheres fell on those surrounding them. Five wolves. Two of them. If he could take out two of them and attack the others, she may have a chance. But he knew in the end, it was unlikely he would make it. For his sins, he would give his life for the woman that showed only courage in the face of torture and pain. A woman he had fallen for years ago when they were children. Taking a deep breath, he tipped his mug over his shoulder and gave her an encouraging nudge with his snout. Gazing back at his opponents, Rythen lunged. He slammed into one, the other jumping him at the same time, eagerly tearing at his flesh. But the one that he had chosen to take out first had been a weaker target. One whose throat he had in his jaws within moments, tearing the jugular from the wolven and dropping it upon its carcass, before turning on the wolf that tore at his shoulders and scruff. Rolling, he slammed his paws into the wolf, tossing the warrior from his body and lunging at him. All the while, he kept his eyes on the three circling her… Amatae.. Beautiful love, her name meant. He shook his crown to turn back to the wolf that launched for Rythen’s throat once more. He took the chance and grabbed the wolf by its jaw, his own jaws breaking the bones there. He heard a resounding snap and a scream leave the wolf’s useless jaws as it hit the dirt, writhing in pain. The wolf would be useless for hunting, protecting or even for the King anymore. Perhaps someone would eventually put him out of his misery. Pads scraped across the earth as he leapt at another wolf. This one, looking to be the stronger of the three. One he knew Amatae would be unable to handle. The two wolves rolled, tearing at each others fur, flesh and limbs. This was his match met. And he only hoped she was able to escape now, fend off the other two, or that he could kill this brute in time.. Muscles flexed beneath his thick pelt as he heaved his weight against the wolf, “Amatae, go, now! RUN!” She had backed herself into a curled up ball, plume between her hind legs as she gazed, wounded, at the two wolves circling her, eyes wide with fright. Had she heard him? “Amatae, GO!” As he felt flesh tear, he knew he was not going to leave this fight uninjured. Her ears flicked in his direction. She had finally heard him. He gazed in her direction, before he felt jaws snap about his right foreleg. Roaring in pain, his jaws snapped around the scruff of the larger wolf, ripping him from his limb. When he glanced back up to search for her, he got knocked downward by the male once more. Who was this man? He recognized him. Yvell was it? He couldn’t recall. Unable to do much more, he looked to Amatae, hoping she could escape the other two, but they jumped her at once when they caught her at the tree line. She hit the ground hard and curled into a whining ball. Everything turned red. Blood was everywhere. It was all red before it turned black. Perhaps in some way, the brujo was hoping to make amends with Amatae, for being unable to help her. In his helping this fae, in a way, he was hoping that in some, small, even insignificant way, that Amatae would see and forgive him for what happened to her. Perhaps it was simply a useless thought, a useless hope that it would have such an affect. Never, would he forgive himself, however. Never in his lifetime. Acoustics tipped toward the female, Ix-Chel. She looked similar to Amatae. Younger, but similar. He followed behind her, his pace quick, steady, but still as prepared as before for the cougar. He had fought a few cougars before. But he knew they waited for their chance, for that right moment when their prey was at its weakest. Plume shifted back and forth behind his frame, his gaze concentrating on being sure Ix-Chel made it up the rocky cliff safely, and that the cougar stayed back from them. Before Rythen was even able to react to the cougar moving in their direction, however, Ix-Chel turned to face it down and roared back at it, letting the wild cat know she wasn’t giving up, wasn’t giving it a chance in hell at using her as easy prey. Rythen couldn’t help but let the corners of his lips curve into a small smile of knowingness. As the cougar stopped, clearly in shock at the noise that ripped from the female wolf above it, Rythen’s grin grew larger, but he remained silent, allowing her some space and the diligence of the moments silence. As she reached the ledge toward the safety of the dens, Rythen let his shoulder muscles tense tightly as he pulled himself up alongside her, allowing her to head into the den first. If the cougar even attempted to climb in, it would end up stuck at its shoulders and starve to death, for while there were two ways out for them, the cougar had no space to get in. He hoped it wasn’t stupid enough to commit such an ignorant act. After she slipped through, he gave her a moment to gain further ground into the den. Taking one last glance at the cougar, which was clearly losing hope at them being its next meal, he stared at it for a moment. The hungry cat growled a curse and stalked off, clearly angry without a meal. But he felt… pity for it. Although it held muscle, it grew thinner. Food was growing scarce out here, however, so he shouldn’t have been surprised. Slipping into the den behind Ix-Chel, he nodded to her, then moved to the other side of the den, giving her some space. He nodded to the back corner of the den where he had left a few chunks of meat earlier in the day. “There’s food there, if you’re hungry. It’s not immediately fresh, but its this mornings cull..” His gaze shifted from the meat to her, gazing at her, observing her. She did look like Amatae. But where this fae was clearly bronzed and carved of hardships, Amatae had been delicate and soft. Frowning, he realized he was staring at her and dropped his gaze. “I apologize. You look… familiar.” Lifting his spheres to meet her eyes, he let a sheepish grin cross his features. “May I ask… if you were heading to one of the packs, or if you were simply passing through? I can imagine you did not wish to stay here, much less die in such a place. Perhaps, if you’re in search of one of the packs, I could direct you in the right way when you have rested and fed.” Generous offer? Allow her to stay, feed upon his saved food, save her life and send her off in the right direction should she choose to leave. Perhaps. But his offers stood. And while he thrived out here, she did not. He could go without one evenings meal. Heavy-lids peeled open, his tongue, like sandpaper, stuck to the roof of his mouth. Lips parted, dry and parched. He lolled his tongue from his jaws, ran it across his lips, but it did not help. Blinking several times, his acoustics flat upon his skull, he drew them forward. Blood… He could see it. He could feel it… Was he dying? Pain seared his shoulder and neck, his chest, his flank. Groaning in pain as he lifted his crown from the bloodied earth, he gazed around him. It suddenly dawned on him. Everything hit him like a slap in the face. Amatae… Gazing around, he spotted the wolves he had killed.. One, the broken jaw one.. Must have been put out of its misery by its comrades. And as his gaze lifted to the tree line, he spotted her… “Amatae..” Her name fell from his lips, much as the rain falls from the sky. His brows knit together as panic spread through his chest, squeezed his heart and pulled at his very soul. A whine escaped his jaws as he attempted to drag his body upward from the earth, his forelegs hauling the rest of his body in her direction until he finally found the strength… the strength to reach her.. Which lifted his hindlegs. He collapsed once, fell back to the earth in a heap, a roar of anguish lifting from his parted jaws, lips curled upward to show ivory challengers, pain, anger, sorrow. As he hauled himself upward again and slowly made his way toward her, he felt his muscles straining. He could feel the tears in his flesh getting tugged at by his tense muscles. He had to keep moving… Had to. And as he reached her, his eyes welled with his tears. She was dead. Everything that had been done to her… so horrible. He could barely bring himself to look at her. Her eyes, still open, staring, dead, lifeless, but yet… still as beautiful as they were when she was alive and they were filled with her courage and her pain. His jaws lifted, parting as a howl left his vocals. The howl was long, sorrowful, exhausted, loving, grieving. As the song slowly died on the last note, he finally let his body collapse against hers. Easing himself against her, he stretched his head across her nape, hugging her as he lay with her, willing his body to die with hers. Willing himself to join her.. To be with her, forever and for always… To finally let go of his sins and be free of the past and his pain. To be with the woman he loved… The woman he killed… Tears rolled down his cheeks as he squeezed his eyes shut and attempted to keep her cold body warm with his own. “I’m so sorry, my love…” wordcount;; one thousand, eight hundred, forty-seven lyrics;; together we will live forever - clint mansell notes;; I think this is the longest post I have written in forever. The song was a good inspiration. The song may be worth listening to while reading the parts of him and Amatae together.

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