Coming to terms

She regretted the decisions she had made leading up to that fateful day. Salana Minerva, the red lady, a spitfire renowned for her cunning mind, was caught in a beast's trap. How stupid of her, how naïve of her. And now, she felt it. The sickness that gnawed at her, the plague that he'd embedded her with. 

She was pregnant. It was clear as day. 

She was not the maternal type, not at all. If she had known the bastard would knock her up, she would've steered clear of Blackwood Reach -- very clear. Now she was stuck with his spawn. Perhaps she'd find a way to get rid of them, she didn't know just yet. All she knew is that she ached. Salana slowed to a stop at one of the streams that flowered through the territory, turning her lithe frame sideways so that she could catch a glimpse of her reflection. Specifically, her stomach. 

She'd begun to swell, her underbelly sensitive and her wavy fur slowly thinning. A deep frown disturbed the pretty woman's face as she gazed upon her condition. 

the staff team luvs u

Nike had been preparing for this day, this season, since the time she was just a girl. To look upon herself to notice the way her belly swelled with new growing life and to harvest it for her own covet. It was a glorious celebration indeed— and she had gotten what she wanted from the Boogeyman. She saught no other purpose than to wistfully end his life when the time came.

Nike approached the stream, her throat dry and cracking. But when she approached, the only thing that fueled her vision was a red silhouette. She smelled sweet, coupled with the scent of bearing her own heirs. Nike's heart soured, her throat tightening with a seething rage, but her expression didn't reflect such apathy.

"Hello," Nike would utter, her eyes dripping of a superficial kindness that she could muster. The golden woman stood adjacent to her at the water's edge. The flash of seeing her head split open against the rocks blistered, but she let the thought slip away quickly.

"You are..." Nike would breath, play your part. "Stuck here too?"

the staff team luvs u

Salana's red fur bristled at the sudden intrusion, dual colored eyes swiping cautiously over the other woman. After a quick observation, she determined the other lady was in the same boat as her. Hmph. Her head tilted upwards ever so slightly as she observed her, nares flaring so that she might breathe in her scent; it was feminine divine coated in the repugnant scent of impending motherhood. 

She loathed it for she wore it herself. 

Salana simply sneered in response to her words, the fur along her hackles coming to rise. “I don't get stuck.” She hissed, and red hot anger coated her words, but they weren't directed at the golden lady. No, they were directed at him. If only she'd been quicker, been stronger, the cards might have been flipped and it would've been him writhing upon the floor beneath her, begging for his life. Oh, how she'd relish in that... 

Violent thoughts brewed. “There's just a big, fat, reeking fucking prick in my way. But I'll get out of this hell hole.” Something crazed blossomed to life in the deranged lady's eyes, and her claws dug into the rocky bank of the stream, her whole body seething. “And I'll get rid of these things he put inside me while I'm at it.” She seemed rather hellbent on it. And then, clarity. She straightened upwards to her regal height and swallowed bitterly. “I'm Salana.”

the staff team luvs u

Ah.

So there was a fire that burned in the woman, too. Except she wore it plainly. Nike wouldn't do the same. No. In order to climb the steps of this wretched forest, she would have to do it out of plain sight. Where no one would see her create her own world beneath her feet.

Nike slipped. Only slightly. A laugh, deep and genuine left her when she made her comment about Vengeance. Nike made a face towards the woman, Salana was her name, of all knowing agreeance. But that would be it. The only sliver she saw into the same opinion they held about the so called 'Warlord.'

"Nike," She would introduce herself back. Good. It didn't seem like Salana was one who wished to stay around for the semantics that Vengenace created for himself. It would be best that way— Nike would hate to make an enemy out of her for the simple fact that she carried his brood in her womb. "There are many ways to do it."

Nike would say, not looking at the pale woman's face, but at her own reflection in the stream. Her stomach became more and more bloated with each coming day, the fur there had begun to thin. She looked fucking good though. Pregnancy dawned on her like a gift from God's light, and she would wear it like a proud coat.

"But he will kill you and me if he hears about this."

the staff team luvs u

Was she offering help? Advice? Salana couldn't quite figure it out -- in fact, she couldn't figure Nike out at all. She didn't seem rattled, upset by the demons growing in her stomach. She must've been one of those maternal types, maybe she liked being pregnant. Maybe it was some big fetish to her. Salana simply stared at her, her eyes raking narrowly over the woman's blossoming frame. Suddenly, she was envious. The woman was gorgeous, a radiant gem that glittered like rhinestones. She practically lit up the entirety of the wretched forest, deeming it slightly less ugly, her beauty leaking out into the very sediment of the ground. 

Gods, it disgusted her. 

“Then he won't find out.” The words were full of hate, it practically oozed of the red lady. Her pregnancy had begun to wear her down, rub her down to a fragment of the beauty she once possessed. She couldn't garner anything in her current condition, and what about when the leeches were born? They'd suck her dry until she was nothing but skin and bones. “I know lard ass can't possibly be smarter than two women.” She sneered, lips curling at the mere mention of Vengeance Rache. 

“What's your game?” She suddenly asked, eyes narrowing upon the woman. 

the staff team luvs u

Nike's brows rose, but her lids remained heavy as she examined the woman and her intentions. She spoke about Vengeance with a tone of disgust, rightfully so, who wouldn't? But it was in such a callous, agitated way that Nike knew she harvested truthful hate for the man. She, on the other hand, had no time for hate. She only had time for vengeance itself.

"Not a chance," she would muse in agreement, her voice still boiled down to a hush whilst she looked at herself in the reflection of the stream. Her mother once called her 'vain,' and she supposed that bitch was right for once in her life.

But when Salana asked of Nike's game she finally pulled herself away from her reflection. There was much to contemplate— the truth, a lie, a fable of a story intermixed. She didn't know what she could trust this woman with. Perhaps a mix of both could work.

"I bear my heirs," Nike's confidence, sauve texture of her voice had been obvious. The word 'my' was intentional. She hoped that she didn't need to elaborate any more. "That is the only game I play, Salana."

---

strategist

the staff team luvs u

Ah.

So it was revealed. 

Salana knew well every pretty face had an ulterior motive. For, Salana had one herself -- almost always. A smile grew onto the woman's face as she looked upon the blond, her eyes trailing slowly, leisurely, over her form. “So power.” Salana corrected, her chin tilting upwards slightly, eyes narrowing. 

“I think I like you.” Salana spoke. For once, she could relax. To know there was a woman as ambition as she that she could relate to, well, it made this hell hole that much more bearable. The red lady crossed the stream that separated them, her lanky legs carrying her with long and weightless strides, and Salana found herself peering around the Blackwood cautiously. They could never be too sure, but at this time of day, the Boogeyman would be looking for a pile of dirt to lounge in until nightfall. 

“Help me get out of here and my--” The word felt bitter upon her tongue and she paused to digest it, nose wrinkling briefly, “children... won't be around to get in the way of yours.”

strategist

---

the staff team luvs u

Nike looked towards Salana in the reflection of the stream, her own growing stomach reflecting back at her, staring at her in the face. Salana accused her of wanting power. Nike would do nothing except for a growing smirk and a glance from her. She wouldn't say the words aloud. Not here. Not in the depths of this reach.

The red woman crossed the river to join Nike at her side. It could be a pretty picture in another world— two beautiful women, pregnant, beaming with life. But on the contrary, in this universe, they were doing everything in their power to protect themselves. Elevate the womanhood they coveted.

Nike huffed with approval. Good. They were both on the same side of this war.

The golden one didn't miss the bitter tone of the word 'children' that left her. Nike looked to her, then, a curious expression building. She glanced from her stomach, the thinning fur, and towards her pale, freckled face. She turned her head to the side, voice unbelievably soft. "I can help you."

There was no scheming here, though, not right now. Nike looked to Salana intensely. "A permanent solution may benefit you, if that's what you want." Her brows would raise. "But you'll get what you want, no matter what. I promise you that, Lana."

---

strategist

the staff team luvs u

What was she suggesting... Salana eyed the woman of greek depravity cautiously, her eyelids flush with thick lashes narrowing softly above her slitted eyes. Salana's head pulled backwards, rearing upwards in mild surprise, ears tucking firmly against her head. It hadn't taken her long to figure it out, and while it was tempting, Salana didn't necessarily trust this woman. And she wouldn't lie about it either.

The gangly lass lowered her frame gingerly, shoulders flexing and rolling cautiously, firming her stance across from Nike. Her eyes flitted around the edges of the woodland that surrounded them, as if looking out for any disturbances in the brush. Nothing, good. 

“Not to offend, but I don't quite trust you. Sorry, babes.” Her voice grated as she spoke, and Salana took a few steps away, looking to begin trailing away from the lady of gold. She caught her own reflection briefly in the waters that wrinkled and she stopped, eyes brushing and lingering over the growth of her stomach. Part of her wanting to take Nike up on her offer, and the other part of her couldn't help but take her chances. 

“Find me when you think of my way out. And... thanks.” Thank yous were hard for the arrogant woman, but she'd manage it -- this time. Salana cast her eyes away from the woman and towards the thickets ahead where she intended to disappear. 

the staff team luvs u