Little Silver Fangs
The older, experienced Lunar Harmonious Ivory gather a cadre of Lunars to help him look into an esoteric book, The Chained Heart. Gathering them at a party in his Manse, his Hearthstone suddenly breaks, evidencing his Manse’s geomancy has been broken... and that has to be anything but good news! Splitting in two groups, Ivory accompannies those who are not combatants into sneaking out of the Manse with the book, while two of their warriors go evacuate the Manse and fight whatever is breaking within it...
They run, then, Fangs-of-Winter and Seven Leaf Sorrows, side by side, through the corridor and towards the hall... their every sense preparing, their every power feeling the crescendo that runs through their veins. Blood would be spilled, and soon... so very soon.
Seven Leaf Sorrow: Seven Leaf sorrows was all grin. It filled his face, almost his soul, with the power. It ran through him, as he stopped.... and a night lotus doted in fiery stars blossomed about him. A hard but beautiful face was lost in it, as he stopped... and his body seemed to change. Circles of crystalline essence formed a chrysantemum about his arms, and Fangs-of-Winter could feel the power pouring from him. His walk was different, then... like a dance.
"Now, I Thread on Diamonds."
Narrator: ... and Fangs of Winter sees what created the geomantic breakdown.
On the ground of the corridor, towards the great wings of the butterfly, the ground is broken.
A strange vine, covered in menacing thorns and colored in the prest carmine comes out... clinging to the walls, breaking into them. Out of the ground, into the walls, skirting the edge, trying its hardest to be unseen...
Fangs-of-Winter: As the breath left her lips, it no longer steamed. It froze. For it was the very breath of the North, passed through the maw of Winter, who glared at the vine with baleful green eyes that saw more than men should.
Her fingers flexed with a savage crack as she locked her claws into place, talons of harder than ice, and sharper than glass. The muscles on her forearm bulged like boulders under flesh, causing her bracelet of fangs to bite, and draw blood from her.
Her whole body seemed to move up and down as she breathed, and their was nothing subtle, nor graceful about the overt menace she was.
She was a thing that could do harm.
Narrator: Looking into the hall, one can see... the party. Filling the great hall that was half of the left wing of the butterfly-shaped Manse, a construction of pure glass that pumped the essence of the Manse between the many colors of its primely-cute glass. As they walked into the door, everyone turned, looking at the... thing. At the Wolf-Bitch there, seeming ready to kill them all. Nobility throughout the East looked, as the music stopped... and even in the second part of the wing, throughout slightly smoky glass, the rest of the party could feel something was wrong...
Seven Leaf Sorrow: "So." Leaf asked, turning to her. "Care to frighten the little pompous bastards?"
"Howling is your thing, isn't it?"
Fangs-of-Winter: "My voice is not a thing to take trivially," she said, her entire form crouching as she bared rows of slender, ice colored fangs. Muscles rippled and quavered with unyielding strength, and she held back her head, and let loose her voice.
It was as if the world broke. It was the voice of the man who beat you. The woman who mocked you. The child you hated you. The monster that chased you. A splinter of the Great Terror brushed its awareness ever so briefly against the world of shape, and the mere passing of its shadow left behind the knowledge of mortality. Death. There was no victory. There was no hope. There was only flight. And maybe, maybe... the thing that had uttered the cry would choose not them.
Narrator: And they scatter!
Running away, rushing wherever they can, terror in their faces. None of the weak can stay, none of the weak can remain... and even the strong, such as Leaf beside her, feel a shiver running down their spine. Few remain, looking at her, wondering what to do... two Dragon-Blooded on the party running towards her through the crowd, a woman of viridian hair and eyes and a rainament of flowers, a man in stern black jade armor... but against the stampede, it would take long for them to get to her...
And she sees... things.
Above her, she hears weapons hitting the ceiling, the glass. There are people there. People she has just chased off.
And amidst the crowd, there is someone that has not moved. The same woman of orange hair as before, face delicate as peach, eyes of crimson...covered in a long white-and-summer-colors dress, that goes to the ground. Half her face hidden in a red fan with characters Fangs cannot understand... she just stares. And does not move, even with all the people that run about her...
Fangs-of-Winter: A thing of terrible beauty, the long mane of her hair flowing ot hte side in an unfelt gale. Her eyes turned toward the percieved wrongness, and her nostrils gently sniffled the air. She ignored the Terrestrials, for they were not as yet of her moment. She feld away from her senses for the briefest of moments, and blew gently on her anima, letting it lift and carry her. Her claws flexed in anticipation, and her beauty was savage and deadly. She could smell the Essence of their courage on the will, and its absense gave her strength.
And like a hound scenting blood.
Her muscles tense, and her eyes narrow.
Seven Leaf Sorrow: "Now, I have to admit."
He walks slowly into the room, looking around, lightly pushing the people on his way without care, so fluidly. It is a dance, and he does not wish to dance with them. And so they part as the Night Lotus Walker moves, as water around a fish. "You do know how to bark." He grins at her over his shoulder...
...before focusing his attention on the woman...
"Hey honey. Not looking very scared, are ya?"
Unlike Fangs, he kept an eye on the Terrestrials the whole time. But the woman was either important help... or foe.
And he would find out which.
????: The woman closes her fan, a bemused smile on her lips as she looked up... to Leaf, to the caste mark half-hidden and gleaming gold on his brow. It interested her for a moment... and then it is like she turned her attention somewhere else, opening the fan once again. "Not in the least, master sorrow. Nothing either you can do could frighten me."
Fangs-of-Winter: Her hackles raised. The woman did not flee. She made contact with her eyes, and did not bow them. The wolf within demanded her blood, saw the challenge in her stillness. Her lips became a snarl, "Leave." She said, and it was a great mercy from such as her.
The Terrestrials came ever closer, and their aggression began to tug on her attention. She turned her baleful stare on them, and her claws opened and closed reflexively.
????: "I do not think you understand your predicament, Lunar. You are meaningless here. Like the Solar, like the Dragon-Nobles forcing their way to us." The fan closes, and she leaves it over the table. "But I will be nice to you. I will say it this once."
What happenned next was simply horrific.
She got up. But not with her legs. The red vines, so many of them, uprooted out of the ground. Out of her gown. Breaking the ground beneath her, so many of the vines, each thick as a man's arm, and so long she was lifted high up the air, almost to the ceiling. She had no legs, underneath her gown - simply an endless stream of viney tentacles, breaking the ground in the whole room... from where they had infiltrated the whole manse, apparently.
Her body jerked unnaturally back and forth, and she looked to them with glassy eyes and a smile. But like those that would be in a doll. Expression without life. The long gloves around her arms ripped apart... as did her flesh, becoming two great nails, twice as long as the woman used to be, apparently made of blood... and she looked down on them.
"We bring Red Dawn. Hand us the Book, or return to crimson. That is your only choice." At the same time, the glass broke up... on the ceiling, on the windows. Pairs of men, clad fully in red, only eye opening in their costumes, wielding short slashing swords or weighted chains jumped in, as if heeding a signal, and looking straight at the chosen.... thirteen, at most. The creature of vines looked at them, and if it could make a face, it would.
"Only this many? Cowards..."
Seven Leaf Sorrow: Leaf looked up... and up... and up....
"Correct me if I am wrong," He said to the wolf-bitch, without looking, "but I think that meant 'no'."
Fangs-of-Winter: Her only response is a soft growl which issued from her throat. She moved fast. Her eyes knew only her foe. Her world become bent on tasting only her blood.
She moved like ray of moonlight; and flung herself, a ravening hound, at the Lady of Vines and Wicked Smiles
Lady of Vines and Wicked Smiles: She sees the hound come... and never ceases her smile.
Her 'arms', the great nails make light movements in the air...
And it fills with thorny vines to bar the path of Fangs-of-Winter!
Fangs-of-Winter: The way to her foe was bared as if by a large gate, and she raged as she was denied. The defending vines grew a rhime of frost with her wrath
Seven Leaf Sorrow: Leaf looked at it, and people ran faster. The man clad in red, however, went through the air like shades of blood, bringing red to wherever they passed. They were priority for him, or they would be blindsided. That was not... desirable, not it wasn't. And so he ran towards the men... as the weighted chain-scycles came for him. He dodged both, grabbing them and pushing to him, jumping... and opening his legs, kicking each of the assassins in the face.
As they fell, he struck another close by, wrapping him on his own chain... and sending him towards another, toppling both like a group of dominos.
Lady of Vines and Wicked Smiles: The Wood-Aspected Dragon-Blooded raised her arms to the sky, forming a viridian vine from her hand and wrapping it against the steel framework around the glass on the ceiling and elevating herself, above the crowd, and towards the Lady of Vines, ready to strike down whatever indignity that was...
And yet, the Demon simply waves her aside with her great nails, then finding her in the air... and impaling the Wood-Aspected lady in the end of the nail, making the Dragoness scream, as vines begin to grow from the nail and into her flesh....
And at the same time, she turns to Fangs-of-Winter, her face more manniquin-like every time, simply a smile with blood dripping at its end, as she plungs downward... and tries to impale the Wolf-Bitch to the ground with her long nails!
Red NINJAS!: Soon, they move around Seven Leaf Sorrows, weapons flashing... but each and every one, all of them miss his movements, never fast enough to touch his dance. His dance is not theirs', and they are not part of it.
Fangs-of-Winter: Her flesh was the eternal ice beneth the glacier, and the Wolf-Bitch smiled. Her eeys wild with battlelust. She smelt the blood on the wind. She felt the pain of her wound pierce her as a kiss. Blood wetted the ground, to become as black-red ice as it touched marble.
Her flesh bulged with power as she forced the hook away from her flesh, and held it like a serpent. And, with fangs bared, she bit into the hurtful growth, with all of her chill. She tested a theory.
????: But the remaining Dragon-Blooded gets out of the crowd, running towards Leaf with angry eyes and a curled fist. "You..... anathema!" He yelled as his fist came down on the Solar, through the dance, through the War God's steps and to crush his face!
Seven Leaf Sorrow: But he still dodged it, and quite effortlessly... "... are you blind?"
"We are the good guys here, you dynastic loon!"
Lady of Vines and Wicked Smiles: Fangs-of-Winter bites the vines... and they die.
However, it has no effect on the great lady of vines, or the vines pulsing alive beneath her...
The Wood Aspect on her grasp writhed... and finally screamed. Then, the Lady of Vines lowered the nail, and the Dragon-Blooded fell to the ground, writhing... and then, Fangs-of-Winter had her full attention. "Lunar. You refuse to die, then? Will I need to fill you with my vines until you burst on the inside-out? Will I make you return to the red as life for my children? It seems so..."
"So die Lunar!"
It was not the nails. It was her vines, bursting from the ground, all around Fangs-of-Winter, to hold her, to break her....
Fangs-of-Winter: The vines come like a veridience shower, and with claws moving frantically she attempts to bat away their rainstorm.
Flesh is raked from bone, and she snarls loudly... more blood falls to the marble, becoming a pond of black ice. She bares her teeth, and fury takes her.
Lady of Vines and Wicked Smiles: "See?"
"Run, wounded Wolfy, run. Run away."
"Only death will find you here. That is what I am for you. Death."
The thorns try to wrap around her, growing around her like obscene trees...
Fangs-of-Winter: Fools go where heroes dare to tred.
Maybe she let her anger get the better of her.
Maybe she should have heeded to wisdom and fled.
She narrowed her eyes and snarled darkly. Better she die, then run from a plant!
And so it was that her anger found a place in her heart. Took root in her muscles. She would kill this vined bitch. She would break her foe upon the marble and cast her heep in the fire.
She turned her baleful eyes upon her, and with intent... hurled herself again once more in the fray. A thousand minor gashes ignored, her body painted with red and white.
"Die," she hissed, and the air shivered.
Lady of Vines and Wicked Smiles: And Fangs-of-Winter held to the Lady of Vines and Wicked Smiles... and did not let go. She tasted the burning taste of the Lady's blood on her mouth, a sap that tastes like brimstone... as her long nail-like hands struck against Fangs-of-Winter's back, the vines moving frantically... "Get out of me, creature! Get... off... me!"
Seven Leaf Sorrow: Turning around, he struck at both the red-clad men around him, his fist almost burrowing the face of one, picking one of the chairs and throwing on the other he had missed, breaking its glass on his face... but the eight ones remaining came closer and closer to Seven Leaf Sorrows, killing the few people left as they went...
With those killings, only the Chosen remained... like the Dragon-Blooded trying to strike down the Solar!
Lady of Vines and Wicked Smiles: The vines begin to climb around her body, little mouths opening on them like leeches...
Hissing and jumping towards Fangs-of-Winter, to try and bleed her dry...
"I am poison. I am power. You are serving to bathe my young, Lunar!"
Fangs-of-Winter: If I die, it will be with my fangs around your throat.
He held on. Even as the blood-sap burnt away hair. Her hands wrapped around her foes wrists. Forcing them from manipulating the vines. She squeezed with all her being, and as her teeth found purchess on her neck, she began to violently thrust her head from side to side, trying to tear off a chunk.
Lady of Vines and Wicked Smiles: Chunks of her neck ripped off, the brimstone-sap of the vines poured in the air, as the thing.... screamed. She tried to strike at the wolf, yelling curses in some language the Lunar could not understand... and her face broke, vines coming from within it, with the mouths, trying to devour the Wolf-Bitch's face... it was hurt, lashing blindly...
Fangs-of-Winter: She closed her eyes to it, and forced herself not to feel vunerable.
Her fangs fell again, even as her hands crushed tighter on her wrists. Her fangs fell again and again.
Lady of Vines and Wicked Smiles: Locked.
Thorns. Fangs. Brimstone Blood. Cold Breath.
Neither budges an inch, locked in this... it is not a dance, it is killing. Two animals...
And neither knows who has fallen into whose trap.
And then, the vines burst in thorns, long thorns, and they begin to burn in crimson flame...
And the sound comes, from nowhere in particular...
From the thorns, as the body of the vines sprout eyes...
Fangs-of-Winter: She felt the sting of thorns. She felt the taste of acid blood in her lips. Her body coped as best it could, and the blood was like rain on her flesh.
Her memories drifted towards home. She stood on the wall, and looked into the cold night beyond. The wind caressed her, but it was soothing. Familar. On one side was the darkness the chaos and the dead held. The other, warm rooms and familar friends. The guards spear struck the stone, and she was flung into the darkness.
Her consciousness came again to the present. She heard the scream distantly, and she gave the thing a bloody, wolfish smile.
I am greater than you, horror. And she laughed, her teeth coming down again.
Lady of Vines and Wicked Smiles: She screams!
"Damn... you... creature..."
"You hurt me."
"You hurt me! "
The little leech-vines scream.... and then, the vines recoil, the body Fangs is around of filling out, becoming empty skin as she falls with the vines... and they disappear on the holes on the ground, shrieking in pain...
Fangs-of-Winter: She falls to the earth, and rises up. Covered completely in the rusty crimson of her blood, she watched it go. The last of the thousand little wounds fell away. And she clenched her talons quietly. She had barely won.
Obviously, the time had come to refine her technique somewhat.
Seven Leaf Sorrow: Looking around, she sees only bodies killed by the men in red or the vines...
And the unconscious or dead bodies of the men in red, and the certainly-unconscious body of the Water Aspect, Seven Leaf Sorrows standing over his body and wiping some sweat off his brow. He looks at her... and flashes a toothy grin. "You are a good one, doggy. That was damn good up there. Ya do have bark to back up the bite, it seems..."
Fangs-of-Winter: She glanced over at Seven, and gives him a smirk, "Yes, and I sing too. Any sign of more?" She idly wiped some of the vicera from her eyes, feeling oddly... sated.
She considered next time letting the Solar take the evil plant creature and she would just eat the Dragon-Blooded.
Seven Leaf Sorrow: He looked around... "Naaah. No sign of any of them at all."
He walked around, looking at where the poor Wood Aspected lady would have been... and she is not there. How odd. "Hey." He nodded his head, "Wasn't there a dead dragoness here? Cute one with green hair...? Wonder if the vines just ate her away... god, this is disgusting."
Fangs-of-Winter: "I seem to remember her being impaled, and then those vines sprouted from her. The thing kept one saying something about blood being food for her vines or what not. I don't remember exactly, I was... busy."
She considered that though. If she had fallen, would her body have been consumed by vines?
Seven Leaf Sorrow: "Ah... oh well."
"Let's go to the village to meet everyone else then, doggy." He says... before he picks some tables and covers the Water Aspect on them. There was no reason to just leave the bastard on the open, after all... he did not dislike dynasts that much. And then, he begun to pace away, towards the broken windows, looking around... and seeing some weapons on the ground. "Man, they threw their weapons down when they heard you. Sissies."
Fangs-of-Winter: She arched an eyebrow at him, "Perhaps you'd like me to turn the full force of my howl upon you, and see how you whether it."
She attempted to flick off some more of the blood, but she was good and soaked.
Seven Leaf Sorrow: They were walking away... and close enough to the door. He picked her by the arm, pushing her against the wall, slamming his open palm against the wall, breaking it... and pressing himself so close to her. "Wolf-Bitch... I can weather anything."
Fangs-of-Winter: She gave him a slender slender smile, and she reached up to stroke his face with a blooded claw, and her nostrils flared as she took in his essence. "Mm... perhaps. Its something I'm willing to test." She left a bloody streak where she touched him.
Seven Leaf Sorrow: He held her hand, kissing it, feeling the taste of the blood. It was hers'. He pressed close to her, no gentleness in it, his lips touching hers' in such instinctive desire, biting, realising she would do the same. But they could weather it. For they were as gods.
His hand between her legs, grasping Raksha-made underwear and tearing it, pushing the skirt of her dress up...
Warrior gods, standing over a field of blood and broken weapons, of their defeated enemies...
... receiving a reward of power and lust.
Champions over a sea of defeated enemies.
Behind Fangs-of-Winter, the wall crumbles. Pieces of broken glass glaze on her back, and are soon forgotten. It nearly breaks, the impact upon it so strong. Behind Seven Leaf Sorrows, claws of ice dig into flesh too soft, blood dripping down from his back and soaking his now tattered gray kimono's back.
There was pain and anger and lust on his face...
And each forceful push seemed to a battle, as if they wished to strike the other down, to kill them with lust. Kisses that could barely be called such. For there was no tenderness, just lust... and Leaf's head reeled back with blood from her teeth to his lips. "So, you do bite."
"Remind me not to ask you to suck my cock."
Fangs-of-Winter: He did not yield.
He did not yield!
She warmed for him, even as his hair grew ice crystals from her breath. She raked his back, and marked him thus. The scent of blood drove her harder.
She whispered in his ear, "I thought you could defeat anything," she said, her icy breath tickling his ear. She laughed then, wild, almost yipping.
Seven Leaf Sorrow: "I am a god of war!" He held her hair and pushed her around out of the walls, and over one of the few remaining, whole tables. Bent over, where she could not cut his back. So deeply. So few had ever cut him so deeply. How damn strong was she? He had fought weaker... he had fought weaker giants. Still holding his hair, tightly against her back, he spoke, brashly"You are a bitch, you gotta be taken like a bitch."
He said defiantly on her ear as he prepared to took her thus. So much safer...
Fangs-of-Winter: She bend over the table, and spread for him. Her nails raked the wood of the table, leaving long, deep gouges. Her breath came out as gusts of steam, and her muscles tensed and eased with his giving.
Her hair held back, her body bent awkwardly, her smile was all teeth.
You cannot outlast me. You cannot break me.
Seven Leaf Sorrow: Holding to her hair like a leash. There should be a leash. "We need to find a little leash for you...." He whispers, as her raking breaks part of the table, and their strength breaks the rest of it. It is a long time, like this, without more pain for him than that born out of their joining...
The table breaks under her, sending both against the ground, the knowledge of her healing gifts keeping both completely heedless from splinters of wood, even though some come into his legs. And then it is a last climax and he is out of her, his seed touching falling over her body on the ground... and the Chosen that fought so many men without breaking a sweat looks exausted. "... damnit, bitch... why don't you just give up? Pass out..." There was not much defiance in that, however. He was satisfied.
At least, she had his seed over her. Some victory...
Fangs-of-Winter: A large, predatory smile was spread over her face. She was too exausted to do what she normally did with those that pleased her so. She grinned over her shoulder at him, and teased ever so quietly, "Find one, and see if you can, Sunchild." Her breath slowed, for her stamina was beyond that of men. She looked not even tired for all the exersion.
Covered in blood and seed, she reached her hand back to rest gently on the rear of his head. Canting her head over, she gently let him feel her teeth ever so gently over his skin, before she gave him an oh so soft kiss.
Yes, she would keep this one.
Seven Leaf Sorrow: "Is that a dare?" He said, touching her hand... and being almost gentle, this time. His eyes relaxed, almost closing... and enjoying her kiss. It was in those moments that Leaf's eyes were almost lost to the horizon, and he betrayed hints of something soft, and sad... "So, time to go, ummm? Some of those sods might wake up..."
Fangs-of-Winter: "Yes," she replied to him in a like tone, "We must see that those with the book have not met some calamity or another. Tell me, can you ride a horse?"
Gin: Walking calmly through the room, the nine-tailed priestess did not even give the pair a glance as she tossed a pair of towels at them, one falling over Fang's head, the other dangling from the end of Leaf's... other head. "That is perhaps the only thing he cannot ride, though I'm sure it would not take him long to learn the motions."
She vanished for a moment into the house, remerging a moment later with a spade in hand. "Ivory is dead and we're being hunted by unknown enemies," she said as she walked back the way she came. "So I humbly suggest you put on some pants."
And then, she was gone.
Seven Leaf Sorrow: "That is Gin. She never, ever lightens up." He sighs, picking the towel and cleaning himself, and then his back with its other side... "Always in a hurry. See, I trust her to suck my cock. And its always better than to just use a towel." And then it was a sticky, crimson mess... and he winced.
But said nothing.
Damned if I'll give you this satisfaction, Wolf-Bitch!
Fangs-of-Winter: "Pity. I was looking forward to licking it off." She idly wonders where the towels came from, and merely shrugged. She wiped off the blood and seed from her body, and grinned at him over her shoulder, "No wonder your so soft. Too many tamed ones." She paid special attention to her rear, and began to stalk off, stretching a bit. She redons the fine garment she wore, and readjusted it in some semblence of order.
Seven Leaf Sorrow: There is a moment where he looks so... regretful, as if a little Leaf was just up and down and thinking damn! Yet that moment is past, and he taps her teeth when she turns to look. "I told you, I am not trusting those sharp teeth of yours close to my cock. You are too violent to be trusted with something so important. Maybe if you go human."
"And trust me... Gin is anything but tamed. Heck, she barely does anything I ask her!"
"I never really understood how our damn deal works!
It is not like he did not receive a simple, throughout contract detailing her duties, her importance, his own duties and the payment. It is not like he did not sign it, and it is not like he did not see scribes copying it.
He just didn't read it.
Fangs-of-Winter: "Mm, maybe thats your problem. Servents make terrible mates. They are always so..." with her nail, she scraps off a bit of his blood and seed, and gently touches a drop to her tongue, "bloodless about their deelings."
She gave him a slender smile, "Get dressed. While you look pleasent, I'm sure you'd cause a stir."
Shadowsong: Leaf pushes his pants back up. It is all he had to dress, although his kimono was a mess.
And then, Fangs-of-Winter heard the steps amidst the broken tables.
And the other face there, the lady in the dark dress and blonde hair.
"I think the greater stir would be his blood back than the thing hanging between his legs, but that is just me." She said, softly, standing on the other side of the room and watching them both.... "I wonder, do you even call what you just did sex? Although interesting, something so full of blood and pain cannot be that..."
Fangs-of-Winter: She turned her eyes to the woman, and narrowed them into slits, "I do not appreciate critics of my technique. I've already had one mysterious woman insult me today. Care to be the second?"
Her claws flexed once, twice.
Shadowsong: "Oh, trust me... it was sexy. Very sexy. Just too... brutal. You should learn to be gentle."
She smiled, looking at them... a parasol on her hands, twirling it as she faced them...
"I take from the fox-girl's words that you have the book. Where is it?"
Fangs-of-Winter: "Oh, I swallowed it. Figured it was the best place, all in all. Care to hop down and have a look?" She said with a snarl. Lovely. She had this nice buzz from all the blood letting and rough sex, and here comes someone to come kill it. Was it just the nature of her existance?
She glanced over her shoulder briefly at Leaf, half regretting how wounded he was now.
Seven Leaf Sorrow: Leaf looked at Fangs... and caressed her hair a bit. A gentle touch, as he smiled to Shadowsong...
"Hmmm, did you? Say, I could convince her from getting the book out of her, really! You just have to, um... come with us. And, um... sleep with us! Yes! Threesome. Then the book is all yours'. I swear!" He says, with a very wide grin.
Fangs-of-Winter: She takes a half-step closer, and leans against Leaf, and smiled a little bit at Shadowsong, "Oh, I don't know. People obsessed with books must not get very much practice in more passionate things.
She arched an eyebrow and sighed, pleased, "Ah well. Its safe enough where it is." She pats her stomach, "I very much doubt its parishable enough not to survive in there."
Shadowsong: "You cannot have destroyed the book. It cannot be destroyed." She looks at them... and points her parasol to them. Why could no one notice before its point was like that of a spear? It closes, the metal black and moaning to them. "Have you killed Ivory to have it?"
Fangs-of-Winter: She snarled at her, "Usurper! You are in league with she who tried to steal it from him, and now attempt to trick me into thinking you his friend!" She moves away from Leaf and begins to circle the Shadowsong, "I see your plan... attack us overtly, then come as a friend, accusing us of betrayal and murder so you can ween from us what he begged protection for!" Her claws flexed open and closed repeatedly now as she began to circle her.
Shadowsong: Shadowsong takes a step back, seeing the Wolf-Bitch come to her... and then sighed, opening her parasol once again, and smiling. "I just wanted to be friends... but if you won't believe me, I'll have to be mean to you. But not now, right?" She says with a wink. "I will be seeing you, then..." She says, stepping into the air... one step, then another... and then, she jumps up, disappearing over the cracked ceiling and into the night.
Seven Leaf Sorrow: "Hmmm. You scared the scary girl."
"Why is the scary pretty gone?" His shoulders slump. No threesome now!
Fangs-of-Winter: She gave gave Leaf an indulgent smile, tinged though as it always was by that preditory quality, "There there. We'll get your friend to do it with us."
She sighed a bit. It was definately time to find the others.
Her tattoos glowed softly, her form melting and shifting into that of a proud, white mare.
She stamps a hoof once. The statement was clear.