something more [OPEN].

[EREBUS PEITHO]

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[style=font-family:georgia; font-size: 20px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #000000; letter-spacing: -3px;margin-bottom: 10px; ]I CAN'T REMEMBER WHEN I DIDN'T LIVE THROUGH THIS DISGUISE. "Lazy bastard." His ear flicked at the voice, but he barely flinched an eyelid at the insult. In fact, he simply lay there as he had been for the past hour and a half - on his stomach, his head lowered, his muscles relaxed, one front leg crossed over another and his eyes closed as he snoozed in the late afternoon sunlight, relishing in the warm sun as his short-haired pelt absorbed the rays. A breeze blew across the park's slight slopes, buffeting the contours of his frame gently, playing havoc with the long-haired scruff, blowing in his ear .. His eyes snapped open, nearly blinding him with the sudden invasion of the sun's setting rays. He leapt away from the 'breeze' in his ear, letting out a snake-like hiss as he fixed reproachful golden eyes on the giggling female before him. And despite his reproach at being so rudely disturbed, he could not help but notice how striking she was in the setting sunlight. The late afternoon was his forte, as it proceeded the dark of night, and she was not the most beautiful, or the most flaunted .. but in his eyes, she was the reincarnation of Aphrodite herself. Stray lashes of pale light flitted across her laughing blue eyes, eyes that had been so shy when he had first met her, yet eyes that he had lived his life by. Those eyes were that one simple yet intricate reason that he lived as he did. Unfortunately, they also meant that he could not stay mad at her for very long. So, he sighed, and let the air of silent annoyance fade as he stepped closer to her. He did not quite give her the upper hand, though, snaking his neck out to nip with mosquito-precision at the crease of her neck, smirking to himself when she gasped and retorted in a similar indignant fashion, only to completely bely her mood by following the nip up with a sigh against his skin, before resting her chin with utmost trust against his broad shoulders. He returned the favor, his countenance relaxing in a way it never did, even when he was resting. Except when he was with her. That was what made Nyx so precious to him. Because her presence alone, her sheer trust in him and acceptance of his every side and mood means he can relax and gentle his inclinations. Still, he could sense something was wrong; she was hiding something. She had never been good at lying, but he knew she would not tell him in her own time unless he gently pressed the matter. She was not like him in that way - he did not take being pushed well at all, and would gladly do things in his own time. Not before, not after. "Tell me, N'li," he murmured, using her nickname. It always softened her up, let her know he was willing to listen to whatever she had to say. He felt her stiffen slightly, but he did not pull back. She did, anyways, stepping back to look up at him with an expression that was one part joy, one part uncertainty, and two parts trepidation. "Remember .. that day .. in this glade?" He grinned rakishly. Of course he remembered the day she was referring to, and his grin widened wickedly when she scuffed her claws in the sand and flopped her ears slightly, the movement a dead giveaway that she was embarrassed. That did not stop her scowling at him, though, which made his smirk widen. Then she took a deep breath and let it out on a sigh, and he raised a nonexistant eyebrow in response. It must have been big indeed, he mused, for her to do that. And he learned just how big it is with her next words. "Well .. congratulations, Deer Boy. You have officially cemented your prowess as a male." " .. what do y- wait .." "Yes, Koishii. You're going to be a father." It was like a disease. A pathogen that floated with the air around him, in him, never content to leave him be, slowly eating away at his resolve. A chronic disease that slowly tore his heart and soul apart, and he wondered why exactly he had not lost his sense of self before now. Resilience. That was what it was. And Erebus hated it. It did not matter what would happen, how much that terminal illness known as grief and memory, broken dreams, shredded his soul .. his blessed mental strength would never let him fall, take that misstep off the high crevices of sanity. Koishii .. But he was so .. lonely. He could admit that, if only to himself. He could admit to himself that the pain was what drove him on, hardened him to small matters such as hunger and cold, both things he could have avoided if he had allowed his son to stay. He was somewhat of a bother, yes, but his insight was always amusing and even a bit wise in his youth. Still, he let it go and he left it. As if moving about would divest him of that maddening sickness of grief and loneliness. Of memories .. well, those, for a little while, he could leave behind when he moved. Especially out here. He was not some idiot young, nay, he had years of wisdom and experience, and it showed in the way lean muscle moved under his spotted pelt with calm confidence, the dark, depthless look devoid of all heated feeling as his gaze roamed the burning landscape, the way he paid no apparent heed to the hideous scarring of his right side, as if daring one to be stupid enough to mock him for it. This city was a place for idiot young brutes, desperate for a female or cast from their mothers because they had made some moronic attempt to assert themselves in the territory of their father. It filled him with a certain sense of pride to know his own son had never been such an idiot, and in the quiet turmoil of his heart, he prayed the lad was, if not making something for himself, at least safe. The back of said heart whispered that while out here, he should find Ryomaru. His son's presence would alleviate his loneliness, those soft blue eyes a calming balm just as his mother's had been. But Erebus could not do that. Ryomaru was young, his life was filled with promise, and though he would gladly drop it to care for his old sire, Erebus would not allow it. Shaking his head, Erebus sighed, the cold air exhaling in mist about him as he took an incline of the land at a slow, careful stroll. He was in search of a particularly leafy tree to hide himself under, so he could settle to lick his bleeding wounds in peace. Hmph. He would be sharing too, he knew. He had not missed the scent of the female whom had made her residence in the same place, the heat burning the smell on the air. But unlike most, his maturity meant he had little wont to chase after a piece of female tail simply because she was there. That aside, he was still a gentleman, and even if he did nothing .. he would .. simply do nothing. Let her do as she pleased, so long as he got his rest. Should she find him, however, he prayed she would not find his injuries something particularly frightening alongside his scars. He had no patience through the pain for screaming. Erebus shook himself when he reached the top, crinkling his muzzle much like his son did when the snow that had made itself a home on his back puffed about at the disturbance. A flick of the ears to the sounds, and he found the female .. and stopped, for just a moment. She looked like Nyx. Damn it all. A trick of the light, dim lighting, that was all it was. Shaking his head again, his gleaming yellow eyes narrowed and calmed once more as he regarded this shadowy female, his dark ears turned backward in disgruntlement, his tail twitching spasmodically behind him, before he turned, his scarred side flashing just momentarily before he fell back (to abruptly drop himself into the dirt, scarred and bleeding side up) into the shadow of one of the larger trees near to him, ear flicking back to subtle sounds of her moving about doing whatever it was she was doing, head turned out to the plains and eyes as sombre and pensive as the landscape around him.[/style] Fallen here: there are 1435 WORDS in this post, which is tagged as OPEN, BABES. All muse and whatnot thanks to SOMETHING MORE by SECONDHAND SERENADE, you better believe it. :3

[Phantomhive]

I'M NOT A SLAVE TO A GOD THAT DOESN'T EXIST.

Her entire day had been a huge disappointment. She had caught another she-cat dumpster diving in her alleyway. Phantomhive had bristled and PAAAH!-ed, stamping her forelegs in a invitation to fight. Usually this little display, coupled with her rather wild appearance, was enough to scare someone off. Apparently this one was too stupid to notice or too desperate to care. They had fought in the brief, whirlwind style common among cats. The yearling wildcat had been able to chase the trespasser off. She had not been injured in the process, but her temper, already exacerbated by coming into heat that morning, had been further riled.

The fishwife had been positively furious when Phantomhive took a fish from her ice tub yesterday morning. As soon as she saw the feral feline entire the market square today, she had gone on the defensive. The human started to throw small stones at her. The first few throws had missed, earning a derisive scowl and hiss from Phantomhive. This was the wrong thing to do. Anger seemed to sharpen the fishwife's aim. The next stone thrown hit her squarely in the right shoulder. A piercing squall of pain and the muscular tabby fled toward the fountain, putting the water-soaked bricks between her and the human. The stone-chucking had halted, but Phan didn't dare expose herself just yet. She bent her head to look at her shoulder, which ached dully. There had been a cat-shape hovering in her peripheral. She had raised her head, hissing at the tom. Though she hadn't yet given in to the urge to caterwaul and roll like a wanton whore, the hormone shift in her scent was a clear invitation to any intact tom around.

Instead of approaching, the stocky black tom had wisely chosen to step back and wait, tail curled neatly 'round his paws. Her hissing had apparently drawn the attention of a few more cats. Others, a mix of stray, feral, and bastard pet, began to appear like ants around a dropped scrap of food. Phantomhive chose to flee before any of them tried to mount. The market wasn't a very good feeding ground anyway. Surely she would have a better chance of filling her belly somewhere else in Portu without being harassed. Maybe the park? There would definitely be rabbits there and a scattering of mice.

The sight that greeted the tabby upon entering Balpool Park inexplicably irritated her. There was a queen, a bastard pet, lurking in the leaf-cast shadows. Her heat odor washed over Phantomhive in a gag-inducing cloud. It took all of the female's restraint to not evacuate her stomach. A tom lay sprawled out beneath a tree several feet from the other female, his stare directed out toward the plains of the park. She found his appearance particularly... interesting. It was obvious that he was a high-content hybrid like herself, but what he was exactly was a mystery to her. A rustling interrupted her examination. Her cool green eyes went to the female, who appeared to be coming toward her. The dim lighting under the trees made it hard to discern her posturing. Phan's normal reaction to domestic felines was to put on a threatening posture and just scare them off. There was no urge to fight or kill as long as they left her land quickly. A combination of her thus-far bad day and her heat-heightened temper made her itch to sink her claws into something irritating. She stiffened her forelegs and raised them, bringing them down hard one, two, three times. Her ears flattened and her lips wrinkled up, revealing slightly yellow fangs. PAAAH! she hissed. It didn't matter if the exotic-looking tom jumped to defend her; Phantomhive just wanted a good, long, fur-ripping fight.

I'M NOT A SLAVE TO A WORLD THAT DOESN'T GIVE A SHIT.

[EREBUS PEITHO]

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[style=font-family:georgia; font-size: 20px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #000000; letter-spacing: -3px;margin-bottom: 10px; ]THE WORDS YOU SAID TO ME, THEY COULDN'T SET ME FREE. "Pa. Pa. Pa!" A single ear flicked lazily in the direction of those shrill cries, half listening and half not as the owner of said honey-sweet tones chattered on. Erebus did not look up, as he was far more content to bathe in the afternoon sun and feast his eyes on the crisp summer grass under his paws. Said grass was scratching his muzzle and filling his nostrils with mouth watering scents as he proceeded to lip the chaff-colored plants, contemplating idly whether or not to take a bite. Several moments passed in this fashion, or maybe it was one moment. Maybe it was even an entire hour; he just was not sure, considering he was looking at the ground and not up at the sky as he was more often seen doing. It was just a little quirk he knew was both endearing and drove his mate absolutely mad, because while it was one of his habits and it allowed his always spinning mind to relax, it was infuriating because once he started doing it he became incredibly absent minded and lazy. Or, rather, lazier than normal. And his N'li, as he called her, admitted to finding it ridiculously sexy when he got to acting like a big, lazy crocodile, complete with reptile-in-the-sun smirk. It was simply annoying because - Actually, she still had yet to tell him why it was so annoying. He grinned inwardly at that thought, before oofing in surprise when he felt a small weight collide with his side. It did not hurt, but it was a surprise no less, and he flicked his tail in annoyance before giving his daughter a chiding look. Eyes as dark as his own looked back at him reproachfully for a moment, but Kichiro had never been very good at playing it tough with him. She was a 'daddy's girl', after all, and unless she knew right off the mark that he was joking with her, one well-placed glare could leave her cowering in shame. It would leave her with eyes huge and filled with what suspiciously looked like tears simply because she could not even stand the mere thought of him actually being angry with her. Or hurt or disappointed in her, for that matter. Like now, she was looking up at him in that exact manner. The problem was that he as well did not like seeing her like that, even when she had upset him. It had taken him a long time to school himself into turning away from those devastated looks, because as much as he loved her and coddled her and would do anything to keep her happy and break the bastards who made her cry; he knew very well that good parenting should be two parts discipline as well as three parts love and support. And if he let her get away with something she had done wrong, then he definitely would not have a healthy relationship with her; he would not have the respect and devotion from her that he did now. And she would not be the little darling that she was so much of the time. After all, she was so very much like him. He sighed softly and shook his head, his dark ears falling backward into his scruff. He let her squirm for a moment longer before gentling his body language, figuring she had had long enough to reconsider and think about what she had done. Her reaction was immediate, and she pressed as close as was possible in the space of a heartbeat, her small muzzle nuzzling in a sort of unhappy relief into his broad chest, uncaring of the scars that made their home there. "You weren't listening to me, Papa," she said plaintively, looking at him with a mixture of stubborn reproachfulness and (as always) complete adoration. He sighed again, shaking his head so his ears flopped. No, he was not, to be honest. Not fully, anyways. But he got the basic idea of what she was saying, so he hazard a guess, putting on his most innocent expression. "You have been jumping off of that bridge into the pond again, and you did it without breaking your neck or letting your mother catch you?" Apparently his guess was correct, because the reproachful look faded, and she grinned at him so mischievously that he suddenly realized why exactly people are both drawn by his own similar grins and yet are simultaneously frightened by them. She nodded, headbutting him playfully before prancing about. She was an odd little mix of genes - her eyes were his, and her mannerisms were his, and even her body was his in most ways. But in color, she was mostly her mother - pale and golden-cream, save for her markings, which were his, and the deep dark black of those. Either way, she was beautiful, as far as he was concerned. And even as she grew older, he was completely dedicated to driving off, maiming and killing any male who thought himself worthy of her. Maybe there would be a male who came close to being worthy of her one day, but he had yet to find one. "Yes, I did it, like you had the other week! And nope, Mum didn't see. Mwahahaha," her cheeky yet somewhat maniacal cackle cut off short at a sweet, soft tone behind them both. "Mum didn't see what, pray tell?" They both froze entirely at the voice, one ear dropping each as they turned with equally guilty, lopsided smiles on their faces. Blue eyes were watching them both with amusement, and that dangerous warning that told them both that they were discovered, even if those blue eyes had no idea what they had done this time. But those blue eyes also told them that they better do some 'fessing up, because the Gods help you if you did not. Nyx raised a nonexistant eyebrow at him, her mate, and his firstborn offspring and daughter, though her muzzle was twitching in amusement. A tiny, dark form with wide blue eyes peeked out from between her legs, and though they were both counting their potential blessings, Erebus took a moment to lower his head and coo gently at Ryomaru. The kitten blinked at his father and cooed back, the sound squeaky and broken, causing his tiny rib cage to expand almost comically before he glanced back at his older sister and buried his head back into his mother's leg. Nyx took a moment to fuss over him gently, an infinitely precious sight that always melted Erebus' heart, before she was looking at them both again. He could feel Kichiro press closer to him, and her words were muffled against his hip, for him alone to hear. "So what's the plan?" His genius mind thought up any number of complicated escape strategies, and everything in between. But only one escaped him, and he spared his precious mate his best smug, goofy smile before whirling on his powerful haunches. "Run." Life really, really sucked. Memories never faded, not even when you forcibly tried to fade them. No, they stayed there in much the same way as grief left a dent on one's heart .. never fading, never breaking, always there to torment you to the brink of grief-maddened insanity, until you wondered what was real and what was not. Yeah, Erebus Peitho knew that better than anyone. It was his favorite part of the day though - late afternoon, when the sun was still warm, but low enough to cast the shadows he so loved to let dance over his body, caressing and concealing his dark form like a long forgotten lover of old times past. The clouds were at their most splendid; they were crisp and white with the promise of nightfall, yet they were shot with all the colors of fire and passion and everything in between by the sun as it began to set. Erebus loved the clouds. But these days, he hated them even as he loved them with single-minded intensity. Because they reminded him of what had been, what should have been, and how much life plain hurt. He could remember clear as day, as if it were yesterday and not years ago .. at this time of day, in another time, he would be lounging about one of the grassy hills, face turned up to watch the moving whisps in the sky and contemplate. No doubt, he would have Kichiro at his feet; his little daughter, his precious princess, fixedly trying to see what it was he saw, asking question after question before she finally settled, simply content with his presence. Ryomaru would venture from his mother's side to explore one thing or another, before squealing in fright and bolting back to her, or Erebus himself, and hiding when his curiosity grew a tad overwhelmed. And Nyx .. darling, precious, beautiful Nyx. His N'li, his beloved .. the love of his life. And she had left him. It was beyond pure torment, even years on. Because even years on, he still remembered every single little thing about her like only his mind could .. her voice, her smiles, the way those smiles always shifted in that way that was for him alone, that look in her eyes, eyes that he had lived his life by. The way she never asked more of him than what he could give at the time, simply content to press her face to his after a long day, and do naught but listen to his breath and his heartbeat and take in the sight and scent of him. He was fairly certain he had no heart anymore. It had been taken the day she had been taken from him, for she had owned his heart. And when she was gone, his heart was missing too. Erebus was not one for dramatics, though, and he tried to push his painful thoughts aside, instead concentrating on the terrain around him. He did not know why he was here still; he had initially passed through the area after bumping into Dotro and Sayuri, and their little one, Kaede. Kaede was the image of her mother, with the coloration of her father, and an interesting mix of her mother's temperament on a slightly more laid back level. Erebus knew that would be Dotro's influence kicking in; his old friend had always been a fairly laid back fellow. It was why they had gotten on so well. The distinct sound of soft footprints brought his ears up, though, and Erebus turned his yellow eyes with a mixture of curiosity and irritation. He paused at the sight of the female, though, blinking once, his gleaming eyes washing over her form again with a practiced, if not blind eye. As a private male such as himself, he would never understand why some individuals did that, approached another in a way that was both somewhat intriguing and distasteful to him. He would never understand why a female would offer such an intimate part of herself to the likes of a strange, passing tom. This house-cat female, however, seemed purely interested in him at the moment, and from what her scent told him: she was in the highest peak of her heat. And she purred out her request for him to father her young. Typical. He grunted slightly as she paused before him, waving her tail in a dramatic manner, batting her eyelashes to maybe make herself more appealing. He himself was rather put-off by her, as she held nothing of interest to him. True, his instincts reared their ugly head and the testosterone in his veins took flight, but he stayed where he was, watching her with that calculating gaze. Still, her question did, for the briefest flicker of moments, incite what was clearly a playful smirk. Very, very brief indeed, but it was there - the slight upturning of mouth, a wicked, teasing glimmer in expression. And in those cold, fathomless eyes, even as they reflected the dryly amused countenance of the raven, was a warmth. A brief, tantalizing glow of distracting warmth not unlike watching hard chocolate be melted into liquid sweetness, or the sunrise and swirl through the eddies of dust left behind by the cold night. He doubted, however, that this female would recognize it. For it was a look that had once been common in that lazy yet shrewd gaze. It was the gaze that had once looked upon a willowy, pale female with blue eyes. An equally pale but more solid daughter. And a son. A kind, gentle son as dark as his father. Both with the same haunting eyes as their father. And perhaps the memory, brief as it was, would even hurt the well-meaning heart of the female if only she had known. The moment passed eventually, though, and Erebus turned eyes no longer warm but entirely back to their deathly cold darkness, back to the landscape behind the female. One ear flicked forward as if considering her words, before of all things, he pulled himself to stand and began to move forward. Past her, with naught a word or sound but his presence alone and the sound of large, measured paws stepping upon the ground. As if there was no interest left at all, and yet when he finally spoke in that meltingly sensual baritone voice that always bordered completely on a rough growl, there was no hostility in his tone. Perhaps there was even a subliminal message as he measured those cold yellow eyes onto the approaching figure who sauntered along with obvious disgruntlement. Another female. "Follow some sage advice, little house-cat, move along," he murmured as he placed himself between the females, holding his cynical gaze on the snarling hybrid. One could assume he was protecting one or the other, but he was, in fact, simply avoiding having to listen to their brawling while he relaxed beneath his tree. To which he was returning immediately after the pairs' departure. He had no time for foolish females.[/style] Fallen here: there are 2322 WORDS in this post, which is made especially for PHANTOMHIVE. All muse and whatnot thanks to SOMETHING MORE by SECONDHAND SERENADE, you better believe it. :3

[Phantomhive]

I'M NOT A SLAVE TO A GOD THAT DOESN'T EXIST.

Of course it had been obvious that the tom was a large cat while he was lying down. But now, seeing him stand and move, Phantomhive was a bit awed. He was huge. She knew that she was a large animal herself, but she was stocky and thick-furred, made to thrive in the tall, cold forests of a northern climate. He was from some hot, flat, treeless land where leanness and speed were in high demand. The tom positioned himself between her and the bastard pet. Her pale jade eyes narrowed in a glare. She took one step to the left so as to see her object of irritation.

"Coward," she growled. Phantomhive's voice was rather deep for a female with a domestic taint in her pedigree. A few animals mistook her for a male with deformed genitalia. She hoped her words would goad the other she-cat into a fight. Phantomhive thought that she could easily rip that sad little whore's heart out. As for the male... she hoped that he would stay out of it. Tangling with him could cause her serious damage. She may not catch much now, in perfect health, but hunting with a wound would ensure that her belly stayed empty. The blood might attract predators large enough to slaughter her in a weaken state. She flexed the muscles in her paws, the transparent claws digging tiny furrows in the moistureless earth.


(ooc: this post was just disgusting ;-

I'M NOT A SLAVE TO A WORLD THAT DOESN'T GIVE A SHIT.

[Phantomhive]

(ooc: done, finally.)

[EREBUS PEITHO]

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[style=font-family:georgia; font-size: 20px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #000000; letter-spacing: -3px;margin-bottom: 10px; ]I'M STUCK HERE IN THIS LIFE I DIDN'T ASK FOR. OOC: Apologies for the late response, I've been at the beach for the past week. But darling, I'm beginning to get fairly turned off by the lack of match in not only length, but quality as well to our posts. Muse is starting to become hard to come by with your responses.. She was, undoubtably, nervous. His slanted yellow eyes missed absolutely nothing. He was as perceptive as the vulture who scavenged his meals, and he was as wily as stereotypes proclaimed his species to be. His mind was, perhaps, partially insane, but it was the mind of a genius no less. It only seemed a bit insane, and only because he lacked the ability to properly deflect stimulus in his environment. And he did not know why he could not; he just knew that unlike any others, who could block out things in their environment except for what they wanted to experience, he was incapable of doing so. It was as though his very mind lacked the trapdoors needed to do so, and thus, he saw everything. Heard everything. Smelled everything. Felt everything. Even the smallest of details, he could sense. It had served him well when he had been a lover, for he had felt every movement of his beloved, every sigh, every touch, every minute detail. Every single one: he could absorb like a sponge and store in his memory until he the day he remembered nothing more. Perhaps that was why he struggled so deeply, why he was so incapable of forgetting, why he was haunted by his precious Nyx. But now, it could very well serve him again. His mind was crowded with everything around him, including the senses of this female behind him. His eyes had seen the mixture of her feelings in her own, the twitch of skin under her pattern-marked hair, the flicker of ears and the toss of tail. His intent gaze had registered the minute details of her curves and definition being lost by the dark contour of her coat over skeleton, the individual strands catching the late afternoon sunlight, settling one by one, then two by two and four by four over the ridges of her body until it settled completely, turning nearly blue in the orange sunlight. If he had been a more demonstrative or easy going male, Erebus Peitho may have been endlessly amused by the way the beautiful (yes, he could admit she was quite beautiful) female sort of struggled after he moved and spoke, and he wondered just what she was apparently conjuring up in her mind. In a way though, he was amused, but it was kept ruthlessly quelled, buried far beneath a tainted, broken heart and a cold, sardonic mind. He did not move from his statuesque position, still watching the hybrid threaten the house-pet as she seemed to rethink her approach (for a fight, a friend?) and kept along moving, no longer intent on either male or female. His ears were not quite lain back, but not quite forward, and those gorgeous, fathomless eyes that had once sparkled with the melted topaz borne of love and life, and perhaps would again one day, though the chances were very slim. The reason for their melted hues no longer existed, after all. Even as his pose remained as still and fathomless as it was, his gaze flickered briefly like the shutters of a window with sadness at the thought. His head lowered slightly, brilliant sunshine streaking across his scarred, deformed cheekbone, his expression falling with a kind of fragile, yet masculine elegance. It was the slightest of poses, difficult to pick out lest you had the eyes of an eagle, or the familiarity of a friend, companion or lover, but it's slightness and silence, the lack of outward grief, screamed of pure fury and rage and heartache, simply made it all the more poignant and heartfelt for even the coldest of souls. Erebus certainly felt it. And then his breath exhaled in a silent huff, as if he had thought of something to say and then discarded it. He was briefly startled by the forwardness in the hybrid's rage, but he chose to let her taunting of the other female to hang in the air between them. He purred quietly, almost as if musing to himself that way of sharp minds and the borderline insanity of the genius IQ, his ears flickering back at the rustle of wings in the branches of his tree. He might have smiled wryly, he was not quite sure. Yes, he was a large animal indeed, but he was also cunning, and his presence alone unnerved many, simply because it offered both danger and solace in its way, tormenting the viewer with one or the other. He could do just that in this moment, with this female in particular. And yet .. while he had lost much and changed a great deal, the male named for the despair and the fleeting shadows that danced across his own skin was still, underneath, the gentleman that Nyx had fallen for, and borne the foals of before everything had gone to darkness and ill fortune and sick, twisted fate. Thus, while she seemed alright, his better nature appealed that he make a closer inspection of this female, just in case. He doubted she was really hurt in any way, not physically at least; she was walking well enough. Perhaps resting, but she seemed far too tense for that. Huffing quietly to himself in a manner that could mean anything along the lines of annoyed, amused in some form, suffering or lazy, he slowly turned himself about and went directly past the female again, sure that the house-cat would leave them be and would be not a threat to the female any longer. His large paws brought up gentle puffs of dust from the ground beneath him, his muscled, wiry form rippling under his patterned pelt as he moved. Those same tormenting golden eyes, fathomless yet with a hint of caramel warmth beneath the terrible emptiness, appraised the female, the scarring along his side invisible to the female's eyes while he walked about her. And when he finally came to a stop in the shade of his tree (again dropping himself onto his uninjured side), those dark eyes narrowed slightly, as if such kindness despite the blackness was an ailment to a male that had once been, if reserved, a whole, loving soul. "Little wildcat. I assume your goal now would be to find a male to use as a scratching post. Or perhaps you intend to lick these bleeding wounds of mine?" The voice of the male was surprisingly rich and low, dark and warm, almost sultry again. Like honey chocolate, or black licorice. Like whisky, magnetic and addicting without trying even as he lifted his head, one nonexistant eyebrow raised slightly over his gleaming eyes, clearly waiting for an answer to his intentionally suggestive proposition.[/style] Fallen here: there are 1111 WORDS in this post, which is made especially for PHANTOMHIVE. All muse and whatnot thanks to SOMETHING MORE by SECONDHAND SERENADE, you better believe it. :3

[Phantomhive]

(ooc: Guess I'll cut off then. Just thinking of matching your post length kills my muse. I really don't see how I can match it XD)

[EREBUS PEITHO]

OOC: I am not necessarily requesting you match me completely as far as length, love, I am only asking you attempt to further your skills and give a bit more to this. If you would rather simply give it up, so be it, that is your decision to make.