just a little bit colder

The wind howled, an eerie and captivating sound. It was a noise that sunk deep past the defenses of her ginger pelt and shook her to her core, spurring her onwards in her stride of haste. The bitter lass’ jaw tightened in defiance to the god forsaken forest and surged onwards, muscled legs trotting forwards; her gait hurried and ample. She’d heard of the beast that lurked in these woods, and though Salana was not one for fear, she couldn’t help the anxiety that pooled into her gut.

And yet, at the same time, there was the taste of thrill. She almost sought it, almost hoped that he was on her trail now, chasing her through the dark woodland.

Salana came to a brisk stop at a trickling stream that flowed freely through the territory, thin physique rippling with healthy muscle. She was a scrapper; evident in her gangly, athletic frame wrought with the freckles of scars around her ankles and her mouth.

The wolfess lapped gratefully at the cool water, allowing herself a short reprieve from her hurried journey. She had no destination, only an objective: get the hell out of these wounds, preferably with her pride intact. She had a sneaking suspicion she would do neither.

@Vengeance

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He descended upon her, she had heard him coming. The snapping of twigs beneath his hefty paw steps were like the toll of a bell, and Salana kept her back turned as the foliage shook, announcing his impending arrival. His scent, sickening and repulsive, swallowed the clearing in brush like a rolling fog and tightened like hot coils around her throat, bringing the wolfess’ eyes to widen briefly. 

She felt his eyes lingering upon her form, and finally, Salana moved to turn, backside pressed against the edge of the stream tensely. She was cornered, and the only option was to dive and swim to the other side--yet she did not move, stoic despite the lumbering beast that closed in on her. There was something depraved within the beast’s gaze, unveiling a disturbing ferality. And yet, for some odd reason, Salana felt comforted by it. 

The fur along her backside and her hackles bristled, yet the woman pressed a paw forwards, as if reaching out towards the masculine. 

 “Wait-” Salana managed to force the word out, amber and mossy eyes flickering up to his hungry gaze. The wolfess took a few hesitant steps forward, until she found her rhythm and began a slow, sensual stalk around his form, her side brushing up against his scarred frame.  “At least introduce yourself.” Salana mused, voice sultry, despite the panic that thumped within her chest.

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Evil in it's purest form. She sensed it upon him, could smell it upon him. His stench was repulsive, and it was buried into the very depths of the forest they stood within -- alone. No one would be there to save Salana from the grips of the Devil himself, and even if there had been another, they'd surely die before the hunter's quarry was stolen from him. The red lady could do nothing but relent to his demands that came in the form of impatient nips at her already shaking thighs, yellow stained teeth threatening to shave off the wavy ringlets of fur that covered her gangly frame. 

She could feel it in her bones that denying him would mean death. But it did not mean she couldn't try to at least find some enjoyment in it, participate in a losing battle of dominance. 

Her back paw threatened to slip over the edge, to send her tumbling down into the steady stream below and the she-wolf lurched forwards, using his gargantuan frame to keep herself upright still. And then, without thinking, she ran. Before he could react, before his teeth could strike gold against her scruff, her legs carried her in swift, sporadic strides. Through the dark canopy of the reach she fled, every so often throwing an amused glance over her shoulder, just to be sure the beast was on her tail. And closing the distance quickly despite his heavy weight. 

“Be a man and catch me, nightmare.” She teased, mocked, looking to stoke the flame that was his angry, violent temper. She was playing a fool's game, and yet she could not help herself. Excitement pooled in her chest, in her stomach, and yet the lingering dread was all too surreal.

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She had underestimated the bogeyman, severely, and now she'd pay the price. 

He had disappeared from view in between the time she had torn her gaze away from him and back to the forest stretching out before her. With a single fling of her head over her shoulder, the anticipation she'd been devoured by had quickly bled into a looming pit of dread, bringing her sprint to an ample trot; and then, she halted completely. Her ears rotated in tow with the skittering of tiny feet and the mocking squeaks that infiltrated the fog around her--his minions, his rats, scurried voraciously through out the forest, tiny beady eyes peeled to her. But she could not see them. 

She could not see him. 

Her heart thumped, thumped at the speed of light. It threatened to rip free of her thin chest, a bird slamming violently into the bars of the cage it resided within. Her head whipped around to the north, to the south, to the east and the west as she searched desperately through the dark woodland, attempting to catch any glimpse of the fiend's dark pelt and his glowing ruby eyes. But there was nothing. Until there was something. From the trees he barreled forth, a murderous titan hellbent on catching her. Salana only narrowly avoided the collision of his heavy body, managing to whirl around before he could turn around and fire another attempt to catch her. The she-wolf panicked, and instead of flight, she chose fight like any Minerva worth a damn would. If she was to go out, she'd go out spitting. 

“Get fucked!” It was a squalling, furious cry. She shouted with all the air that was within her lungs and launched herself forwards, landing atop the brute's body and unhinging her jaws to try and sink her long incisors through the thick hide that protected the back of his neck. She clamored to stay atop his back, but it'd surely not be enough. It'd be a losing fight, but it was one she'd start with a bang. 

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