My Lord, Behold the Creationist [Zukozu]

[Red February]

{RED FEBRUARY}
Every night I dream of you.
With my teeth wrapped around your neck.

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Waking: Shoulders up then hind to follow, the a bedeviled vix got to all fours and then spun in three nose-to-tail circles ritualistically. This was the salt she threw over her shoulder and the prayer she muttered after every misstep; everyone had their idiosyncratic superstitions, peculiar to all but oneself. Decidedly, three was a divine number and chasing one’s tail was followed by some circular reasoning. But thankfully, Kiora got to practice her mad little ceremony on solid earth. The dens were perhaps the only large patch of dry terra about the entire region and for this the nurse willingly rested here, even if she lay outside the caverns rather than inside the actual hideaways.

No longer drowsy, Kiora’s discolored optics flirted about the space between trees and the trees themselves -- all were the same in the nebulous darkness of nighttime. Aided only by clouded starlight, her sickly sweet spheres teased out all that lay hidden in the murk. Only to further blur the scenery, the omnipresent Sarnes mist was lacing the space just above those ill lemon eyes, crowning her poll like drapery. Fiend hallucinations, torment, and torture - The Nightmare Trio, a real scar scorcher, the paltry she-wolf thought in lamentation. It was a night like this when her sisters would haunt their prey as a single being, maneuvering through the hours as a solitary and noiseless shadow.

The recollection only brought her misery back to this pack, remembering with lucidity the night on which the Trio stole across Koran, no man’s land, and into Sarnes. They were scrutinized and dissected by an inhospitable Serg and then fitted with jobs by the anwelda Eveline. At that time Kiora was still quite the fool, but her ailment and volatility had transpired to become more than second nature. Now she practically rhymed each time she parted her hexed chops to speak, rarely her utterances coherent. Without her sisters she had phenomenally managed to slaughter one wolf since the time of her falling out and there was a significant number of the lupine kind that she had instigated bloodshed with.

Blinking off her pathetic memories, she squinted through the mist which whorled and curled above her. Kiora acknowledged that she was seen as a deficient sikla… an entirely disposable and perhaps even an unwanted omega in the pack (Dane looked a duty-fulfilling scapegoat, in thoughts not less than cruel.) As she reflected on her demotion and her sister’s pretty new rank title, Kiora stood quaint and stoic. All was motionless but her wheeling thoughts and her lashing cream plume. Pack ranks were often shuffled due to skirmishes in packs, but in truth, the femme did not want to fight her whore of a sister nor anyone else of her pack. In this aspect, Kiora was an utter failure and absolute coward.



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eeh, so basically it's nighttime and kiora just woke up from a nap. i didn't give much to work with. >___<;; apologies.[/blockquote]

[Zukozu]

Few clouds scattered the midnight sky above, allowing the faint light of Tor and her many starry soldiers to filter down toward earth, alighting the world in a milky glow. Yet in the marshy terrain of Sarnes, the light barely penetrated through the constant mist that seemed to hover over the land. Little stirred through the chilled terrain, rigid reeds and bare branches swayed and rustled almost silently under the gentle breeze which caressed them, yet from the blackness stirred a monster.
Long elegant legs furled and stirred the misty vapour as the ebony bitch stepped out from the surrounding tree-line and made her way towards the Sarnes den site. The she-varg, known as Zukozu to her fellow pack mates and conniving wench to those she’d had the ‘pleasure’ to meet, seemed to almost float across the land as her flowing gait allowed her to move smoothly and unfalteringly over the filthy landscape. She knew it well, and had learnt how to keep herself from sinking in the marshy everglades; detecting which were the solid mounds of reeds and grass and which were the disguised mounds of filth, how to wheedle her way silently through the more often than not soggy and squelching undergrowth that was tangled and overgrown. Having long legs and a sleek frame also helped her in such nimble activities; hunting and spying were her forte, though fighting was much more of an issue for her more ‘fragile’ frame.

On approach to the dens, Zukozu’s broad auds perked upright and her fiery amber lanterns looked out keenly as a scent caught her twitching nasal. The faint sounds of scuffing earth and the disruption of air were caught by her ardent senses, allowing her to pin-point where the opposing varg stood.
A wry grin began to creep up her slender muzzle as she began to slow; a deep yet delicate growl tickled her throat in warning to the pack’s recent new arrival, giving out a warning that she was not alone. The mist began to thin as she came closer, until eventually she stopped with the ruddy hued faemme now in sight. Noticing now not the aggressive and dominating figure she had previously met, Zukozu let out a small chuckle as she allowed her fiery gaze to absorb every detail. “Just waking up are we?” she queried in an almost sarcastic manner, taking in the slightly ruffled and bedraggled look that most varg happened to retain after a stationary sleeping position. She remained where she stood, feathery tassel in line with her spine and the sadistic grin still plastering her expression.

(it was enough to work with, don't worry ^^ Sorry mine wasn't so good >.< )

[Red February]

{RED FEBRUARY}
Every night I dream of you.
With my teeth wrapped around your neck.

[/size][/color]

For several moments, Kiora straddled alarm and dismissal, ultimately getting pushed to one side or the other with the arrival of the ebon beast. It was because for a while there was a rumor of another splashing only in the faintest manner, the sounds seemingly not even associated beyond the fact that they felt closer. After a while, the echoes of a stranger completely evaporated, and it was simply the halian herself that dreamed up the sloshing in her mind. And was that witchingly low growl another hallucination? Many probably would have rejected the noises as simply those of the swamps, but some like Kiora were continuously in a state of suspicion. But finally! the noiseless demon, save for her forewarning snarl, emerged from her tacit shadows. The smaller flushed-white damsel was only able to discern her from the murk by the two starry jewels of eyes.

She couldn’t have been so flawlessly graceful. It was enviable. Even if Kiora cared with her little putrid heart to try, her legs would still have been sucked by the merciless slime of the marsh. Not clumsy by any wolven standard, she still couldn’t compete with the delicate agility of the obsidian princess. “Of course, skeletal fae. Just spinning about to keep my demons at bay,” she coughed and interrupted her own voice, one of hissing felinity much like Ember Lily’s. Between the pallid hues which ruffled their hides and their comparable tones, there was little else to verify sisterhood.

Russet sensors jolting forward, her body became a paradox of submission and dominance. Her tail became fixed, stationed at not a submissive level, but not higher than Zukozu’s by a long shot. She yielded to that yellowing Cheshire smirk that was only fitting on the shadowy-slick and gaunt, conceding momentarily to yet another raven doll. Remniscent of Eveline. Of Shunke. Of so many other 'demonic' beasts. Rather than look cowardly, Kiora composed her plain body into a non-aggressive and non-sniveling attitude. Already, the Second of the Nightmare Trio could read similarities between the coal vixen and Ember Lily, chiefly in their attractiveness and self-assurance. However, Kiora found herself believing that Zukozu was a bit more calculating with her mind as opposed to little Lily’s single, carnal technique.

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wow, bad post by me. xD;;[/blockquote]

[Zukozu]

The pallid pelted bitch seemed to be in a whirl-pool of confusion upon her arrival, spinning back and forth and acting in an increasingly peculiar fashion. A chuckle rang inside Zukozu’s mind as she thought of her position in the pack – just perfect for the madness that is our ‘family’. The response that she received from the high-strung faemme forced Zukozu’s brow to quirk in a curious fashion. Never had she heard of such a thing before. Sure many varg – including herself – had odd routines in their daily life that were often habit and unexplainable, yet for her to state that she was keeping the ‘demons’ away, sounded simply ludicrous. “Your demons eh? And what would happen if one of these demons caught you because you spun the wrong way?” she queried on amused tones, her ridicule quite evidently clear.
Since finding out that the new bitch and her own good friend Ember Lily were in fact sisters, Zukozu had found it quite hard to believe. They were in fact total opposites of one another – at least this was obvious in their personalities. The flair that had risen between them on their meeting at Sarnes borders seemed to have sprouted due to their differences, and it was curious now that the sibling of a beautiful snake was not retaliating in the same way to another very much the same.

Flecking her tail in thought, the ebony wench observed the stance in which Kiora took – neither submissive nor dominant; at least she knew her place. A smug grin now replaced her malicious sneer and she let out a slight snort of satisfaction as she began to fold her hind legs and sat back smoothly onto her haunches. “Seeing as we had little time to make pleasantries on your arrival to Sarnes, what is your name that you are most often called by? Other than bitch of course,” she queried in a seemingly casual fashion, cocking her head to the side so as to back up her simply ‘curious’ question.

(You thought yours was bad? Pfft!)

[Red February]

{RED FEBRUARY}
Every night I dream of you.
With my teeth wrapped around your neck.

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The ridiculous habit which Kiora consciously exhibited was one that began back at the Trio’s dens in Koran; her double shake of the mane and triple clockwise circuit was only executed upon leaving the den and upon immediate entrance. It was supposedly to rid her of her “demons,” but in all honesty, Kio yielded to the silliness only because she believed it was a prayer for absolution. All her sins would fall away after she spun those three times, she persuaded herself in those days of innocent cubhood. Those lies she twirled (with her tongue, or spun if you like the blunt motif) and those puppies she distressed! Her minor acts of transgression would be shaken off by the ritual since they could not follow her into her den, her home. Now in Sarnes, the awful little wren initiated the practice as if she had never stopped it.

“Then may Tor smite me down for not spinning the right way around. That would only add insult to injury; it would crown my original sin and incite further fury,” Kio mused with concern sparking her sickly lemon eyes. After her failing effort to amend the pack relations and her deplorable squabble with her sister, she was entirely dejected. Mayhem on Sarnes land was obviously not a point of interest for her fellow criminals, seeing as they barked down her beseeching cry for unity in preference to flirting. The sight of both Zukozu and Ember flipping their ratty tails (in Red February’s construing mind, those flocculent clouds of black and white were ratty) at a male that even dared to solicit with her, truly appalled her. Yet, there was naught a thing she could do in protest to their dirty and trampy dealings. As one could easily spit the aphorism out, “to each their own whore.” Secretly Kiora wanted to retort with the addition of that last word because a wolf should not be known by the company he keeps.

Deciding to say no more on that subject, for a closed mouth catches no flies, the she-wolf relaxed her posture just a whisker. To provoke or inadvertently cause offense to another packmate could end poorly for the healer, because after all she did not know the hierarchal status of the charcoal wench, so she lingered on her lack of physical assertion. So unlike her companion, Kio did not yet sit. “Kiora is my name, but Red February is my fame,” she gruffly muttered, displeased with how everyone unfalteringly tossed around a shiny new tag for her: Bitch. Auburn sensors flinching, she listened for the sick and sour strumpet to take her turn at introductions.




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not my best, but sufficient![/blockquote]