The Beginning of Thee Matryoshka

Misha

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"I'm swimming in such a world today as well,
the night train is passing me by

Let's dance 'till we end..."

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@Exalted posts first please

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Misha found himself a little ways from the hub of the eye as usual. Even with Andraste here he still did not find himself mingling as much as he thought he would. He was not sure why such a social and parasitic creature like himself was not trying to. Possibly because he felt no purpose being with the, the only one who he felt duteous about was Andraste. That would need to change, he would think. Isolation can be a silent killer when it matters.

This reflection made him decided he should patrol a bit, mark and rub about the borders to spread their new pack's scent. This was it, the pack was growing, numbers were forming, and the beginning of the end was now neigh. This land would be there's now, would be his and Mothers. So what if that fake alabaster was above him for now. Soon enough Andraste would see through the folly and award him with more power as he would continue to climb ever higher and be the sole destruction of this world.

As Misha proceeded to mark and rub various areas, he found himself taking a break underneath a rock. The shade cooling his fur meant for much colder weather. Sleep would find him, as languages of varying kinds would speak to the polyglot's dreams and sometimes enter into reality as sleep talking. Unfortunately, this would bring trouble his way and the fear of isolation bringing death would become the real deal.

A very large wolf of browns and pointed brindle would find hear his words as he walked by. Ears alert as he heard the mumbling of foreign words. He would walk right on top of the rock he was sleeping under, the height short enough for the stranger to jump down safely. Now the stranger filled with malicious intentions would just need to figure out the way to position himself. As he leapt down, Misha would awoke from the vibrations. Instincts allowed him to realize something was wrong, and quickly and as he started to get up he felt something sharp grab his leg and began to drag him.

Yelping, Misha got sand all in his mouth, nose, and pawpads as he went for a ride, the foe letting go of his leg, causing momentum to make Misha slide underneath the large wolf who took the advantage to let jaws upon his flesh while he was vulnerable. The only luck Misha had was his dexterous skills and quick wit, allowing him to be able to flip onto his back during the drag and to kick/scrunch with his legs to block and be bit instead of his soft innards or spine. He snarled back, enraged and surprised still by the sudden turn of events. It was not the first time one had tried to kill him, but this was on unfamiliar turf and to be caught so off-guard. This might not end pretty.
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Misha had been absorbed in the obvious issue before him. A deadly game with higher stakes as the seconds passed by. If he didn't think of something fast, he was going to get a possibly detrimental wound at this rate. Right as his brain was beginning to turn the cogs and form a desperate plan, he saw a flash of white as an unlikely savior had arrived, knocking into his foe clear off his paws. The sudden vanishing of the presence above him was not took in vain. Misha immediately pushed his hind legs back to propel himself away while he twisted his shoulders/upper body to have his front feet on the ground to get back up as he scrambled a safer distance.

After distancing a few feet with the sound of battle behind him. Misha whipped around, thinking he would find Andraste fighting for him. Instead to his surprise it was the bratty kid, Exalted. He watched the squabble with interest, having no intent of supporting his fellow Sanatorium as he watched her practically devour the stranger in the art of war. He watched with a cold gaze, his playful fake smiles no longer existing. Or any emotion but the hollow husk of an empty personality that he was.

Exalted was like a plague of fangs that would not let up until until she ripped out his throat, pride and life filling the other. In that moment of blood and carnage even Misha could not deny to himself that she no longer looked like a child. Instead a warrior that Perun and Veles would fight over in an embrace. He wished he could have met the other in his previous life, have her power combined with his sister, Vera. She was worth at least ten wolves, someday perhaps an army even.

After her words, the white wolf got back his normal display of suave as he sauntered over to her, fur still puffed up and messy. He was in some with a few of the nastier punctures he had obtained, and it could be seen by a slight wince. The male usually looked a bit more slim and sleek due to all his grooming, thus to see his thick slavic coat in all it's fluffiness was a bit jarring. The first thing he proceeded to do was spit on the deceased carcass and mutter a few Romanian insults that were not for the faint of heart.

He looked at the deceased as nothing but an inconvenience before turning to look at the other. He could have voiced his thoughts and earlier admiration, but instead he wore that smug-ass grin and said "well-well, look who finally showed up. Took you long enough to save my handsome ass. Don't know what Mother sees in you sometimes." He finished with an infuriating chuckle before immediately beginning to fix and groom his fur, returning it to its more sleek shape and trying to make sure the blood of his punctures did not stain his gorgeous fur.
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Misha didn't bother to look up as the other spoke. Her words didn't throw him off his mojo. Time to poke the bear some more. Pausing with his tongue sticking-out in mid-groom, a smirk soon took over his face as he looked at her from the corner of his eyes, the green so alluring and almost exotic in a way. "I can dance, remember Princess?" He said with a sly wink before his smirk grew twisted in a holier-than-thou sort of way. "I see you're starting to break the meta though. A kid that's all brawn and no brains like yourself are suppose to serve and protect ones like myself. So yes, it's amusing that you're finally becoming so self-aware. Maybe we'll finally be able to teach you some manners at this rate." He said and proceeded to laugh, not his usual smooth honey-glazed laugh but the kind that reminded you of crows flapping their wings around a meal.

Said laugh was interrupted as Exalted tore into the dead and proceeded to get blood all over him. Like a cat his laughter dropped and he let out a snarl that was more like a hiss as he jumped further away from the dinner table. Fucking bitch! It was his turn to be mad now as his beautiful fur was covered in scarlet. "Fucking savage! If my fur gets stained I'm replacing it with your pelt!" He snapped, his slavic accent coming through at his moment of rage. Misha fervently went back to grooming, fearing the possible disaster that may await his appearance. At the same time he was also sulking and trying to now give the other the silent treatment.

You don't just mess with a man's appearance like that. How evil!
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 He could dance. She glanced up at him, clearly unamused as she remarked wryly, "Oh yes... How useful." If their enemies came to their doorstep they could just dance for them. They'd be so choked up in throes of laughter that they might choke to death. Give me a break. Pompous fucking ass.

 "Funny that you're still so soft-in-the-head that you believe my job is to protect you." Hadn't they discussed this before? He was no better than anyone here. Maybe he would internalize that when hell froze over. Then, it was her turn to smirk as she said, "Mother believed I had brains enough to raise the youth... where's your special rank?" Mmmm, it felt good to flaunt that. She was named Disciple of the Womb but what of he? He just took what was handed out... like a begging dog. "At least I've manners enough not to throw tantrums in meetings, Soft-Brain." And she was back to eating, eyes pointedly on him. Oh, what would he do? Would that shut up his stupid fucking laughs?

 He probably would just brush it off and continue to act like anyone gave a damn about his opinion.

 The best was yet to come though.

 When she sprayed the man with blood, he became unglued. It was hilarious. This time, it was her turn to burst out in cruel laughter. "Come then. Try to replace it. I'm right here." She grinned a smile that exposed every one of her fangs as she watched him. Oh, she wanted an excuse to shove him into the dirt. It would be glorious.

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He was practically seething. She really was a brat, he took back all the nice things he ever thought! He found his lip curling up as she laughed and enjoyed her little stunt. And then she said her last words, summing up to her ready for a fight. It was always a fight with this one, truly barbaric. At least his sister Vera had a reason to always want to fight. To stand up against all the trauma and to not become another victim in the stone ruins. This bitch here only wanted to bust heads to be a bully.

In that brief moment he thought about it, ending her life with death being the afterthought. After all there were FAR worse fates than death. Obviously not in this moment. He would bid his time and wait for her to slip, they all do in the end. He could play the waiting game, he could merge his roots with her own and then sever them when he needed to. Make her squirm and suffer, she would wilt and he would water her. She would beg eventually for him to not water any longer, veins threatening to burst and leak out of all the orifices they could find in her twisted form. The question was simply how petty did he want to be? How long would he hold this grudge over a kid?

Pushing his dark thoughts to the side for another day, he let out a huff and looked at her with a serious expression. "So you want to fight, huh?" He asked, looking as if he was going to take her up on the offer. Standing up again, he walked over to her, eyes not leaving her own...and then did the unthinkable. He proceeded to collapse dramatically onto the corpse of the wolf, stretching his entire body as far as he could. "I refuse to move off your dinner until you help me groom my fur." He said with a haughty pout as he sulked upon the corpse. She would leave the kill, which meant food for him and not her. Or take responsibility so they could get along. "Mother would want us to get along, so let's bond." His eyes suddenly widen as he dramatized the situation with a fake gasp. "Or...Surely you would not go against mother's wishes?!" He exclaimed. Yep, this was a good start.
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 She never expected him to take her up on the other. What she thought was that he would posture and moan and whine and make some excuse as to why he was too much of a pussy to get his fur dirty. Then, she would tell him to shut up and they would start over with their little song and dance. However, he surprised her --always full of surprises this one... she didn't know if she liked it or loathed it-- and seemed to actually be considering her offer. That --in her mind-- would result in him getting his delicate little ass handed to him but if he wanted to be beaten then she was game. Something like excitement shone in her eyes as he approached and a savage little smile greeting him as he neared--

 And then plopped down on her hard-earned meal. The fucking snake! He was going to try to deny her her food?! He spoke his nasty little words and she felt her lips drawing up into a snarl... but then, all of a sudden, the expression dropped. Then, she smiled again.

 He wanted to play?

 Game on.

 "Of course. I would never disobey our sweet mother. I apologize for being so savage." The woman all but purred as she smiled down at him and then she too would lie down.

 On top of him.

 And she would streeeetttccchhh until she laid all the way across. He was taller but she was larger. And heavy.

 Quite thicc was this young little lady.

 And she knew it.

 "Let me help." And then she would extend her tongue and a paw so that she could groom his fur... the wrong way. With quite forceful licks. "Is that better, brother." She could be a petty bitch too.

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Misha who was feeling quiet smug of himself, felt his expression turned into a tight frown as she smiled at him. He had a sudden ominous feeling about what was to come next. He wasn't sure exactly what he thought would happen. As she stood up he thought maybe she finally snapped and was going to kill him. Instead, she apologized before collapsing, ON TOP OF HIM. A squeak emitted from his maw, the source of it being all the air leaving his body as the larger wolf in terms of width laid upon him. He remembered Vera had rolled-over on top of Sasha once when they were all sleeping and he thought he had lost a sister that day. Now he knew what poor Sasha had gone through.

Misha immediately tried to wiggle the other off but to no avail. To make matters worse, she started grooming his fur the wrong way. This wasn't hell but it was sure close to it. "NYET (no), YOU FUCKING FATASS YOU'RE GOING TO KILL ME." He snapped at the other as he squirmed in a comedic fashion, the voice somehow loud and muffled at the same time. The last point of sanity for him was crossed when she called him brother. He really did not like that. Misha had not realized the reason yet. That having a white female call him brother who he was bonding with him in fun and often frustrating ways reminded him of his sisters, his family. He was usually not far from them and missed them greatly. How dare this harpy tried to replace the few things he felt he was allowed to cherish.

Misha stopped struggling at that point and just waited for the dumb situation to end, a bitter expression was upon his face. He was sulking big time now. Shutting himself off from the world while he pouted. He missed his home, and his family. He needed to remember that this wasn't his true family and as the Messiah, it was his duty to ensure they were safe before he left this world.
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 Oh, his sweet protests were music to her ears. It was encouragement to keep going, even as he squirmed and struggled. Oh, but it was to no avail. He was far too thin and she, though shorter, was like a titan in comparison. "How unkind you are being." She crooned in an almost angelic fashion as she continued her attentions to clean off the blood. "Is that any way to treat me when I'm conceding to your wishes?" Fulfilling his request of bonding without any true spirit of the request.

 Oh, was he pouting now? His protests had gone silent and she nearly stopped to see why... except she didn't care. He was still breathing and he was still dirty. So, she would continue until she got off all of the blood sprays and then she would stop. "Is that better?" When she finished, she would let him go and roll off, figuring he had had enough of her rough treatment. Although she lay partially on the carcass, her forepaws crossed with her head on top of them. She looked up with those blue and pink tinted eyes with a most sweet expression. One could almost forget she was a cannibalistic barbarian... save for the fact she was partially posed on top of a half-eaten wolf, covered in blood. "Be careful. Your face might stick that way, Soft-Brain." And she would fall silent, eyes staring up and blinking sweetly. Just to attempt to piss him off more.

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Misha's mood had visibly soured. As he was freed from his torture, he took a few quick but deep breaths of air. As his brain adjusted to normal oxygen levels again. Fucking asshole. Sitting back up he began to fix his fur, taking one sour look at the 'angel' before him. "If only you always looked that cute, maybe I wouldn't have to see you as a brat and someone attractive instead." He lamented with no energy, monotone in all his endeavors as he quickly fixed his fur to a somewhat presentable degree. Normally he wouldn't fix it to perfect right away, but he just didn't feel like it. His head swirling in thoughts.

Why the hell was he goofing around with this kid? She did not matter in the grand scheme of things. He was wasting his time, and he was upset that he kept getting caught up with her who belittled everything he stood for. For once, he couldn't hide it, that emotionless void that was him, spitting out the energy of his youth and those around him. Overrun by the emotions of mania only for it to fizzle and remind him again and again that he was empty. This damn brat. The look he now showed her held no hatred or anything that seemed pointed. That cold smile had been like a blanket and now that it was gone his expression felt like suffering through that of a blizzard.

Silently without another word he just turned around and padded off, ready to be left in his own mess of a head. For all his complaints of dealing with kids, it was these moments where he himself realized he was still one in a way too. Because he could still not sort his feelings of the past.

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Insert him exiting unless stopped
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 Aw, was the little asshole pissed now? Good. His words only made her grin devilishly, spoiling her facade of sweetness. "Maybe I don't want you to see me as attractive. Maybe I don't give a single rat's testicle what you find attractive or not." And that was the truth. Him? Finding her cute? Pah, get real. There was only one guy she would set her sights on come her heat and he already knew it. Hello, Temperate, when the time came.

 As for Soft-Brain? He seemed to actually be bothered. He didn't have that smug grin, he just looked like an empty void. How... strange. Maybe once he was beaten soundly enough, he just felt nothing. Sucked for him.

 Although, she felt... something. Mother wouldn't like her pissing him off so much. If Mother wasn't pleased perhaps she shouldn't be either.

 Uuugggghhh... maybe she'd drop him a bone or something later. Make him stop being such an annoying pansy.

 In any case, she was free to finish her meal. Which she did, happily.

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