FOLKLORE


[ P ] Undertaker
#1
Amelia Detherage
In the shadows of the cave which lead to the vista covered her radiant body with ease. Her dark eyes peered wickedly through the portal, watching as distant wolves moved this way and that. Of which were Blackfoot? A sly, demonic smile slowly spread across her lips. Thanks to Lachlan, Amelia knew all kinds of things. She learned of the way to the vista - of course Blackfoot would run and hide - she also learned that she was the alpha of all ranks- she could never be of any worth, not even as a so called alpha. How useful he was, she would have to dip into that pool of knowledge again later.

After a long, creepy moment’s pause, Amelia finally tore away. Patience was a virtue, and the serpent had plenty of it. She slithered back through the caves towards the pines, the trek didn’t take as long this time as she began to remember each and every passage way. A lesser being may have gotten lost, but the red snake was full of pride and ability. The sun broke the shadows, splicing them as it beckoned her towards the pines. She exited the caves, stepped into the broken canopy rays. The smile didn’t seem to leave her lips, but that was due to her amazing discoveries. Amelia was overjoyed, ecstatic even, to have finally found her run away daughter.

In the forest she kept to the shadows, letting them consume her and keep her out of eye sight. She found a dark nook among the trees and shrubbery, and that was where she remained. Her svelte figure sat, her tail wrapping around her folded hind limbs. Her forelimbs propped her torso up with ease, her dark eyes taking in her surroundings with an unmatched immorality. Like a tightly coiled snake, Amelia Detherage sat in wait. What prey would she catch betwixt her mandible jaws? Though she waited with growing anticipation, her breathing remained steady, her mind focused, and her diligence unchallenged.




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"We'll sharpen your teeth and the snakes start to sing." Heaven's full and Hell won't have me.

Table © Plymouth
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#2

There was a smell that seemed to overpower everything. Something more rotten than the day old fish that sometimes washed up on their beach, something more sinister than the depths of the Caves, something that touched her core more deeply than than her lover's most tenderly whispered words of affection.

Amelia.

That russet bitch had been slinking around her home, she could smell it so clearly. It was a scent that was forever ingrained into her mind, one that she would be hard-pressed to ever forget. The one that ripped her ear and left marks forever upon her soul. Her lips curled upwards to show a sliver of fang as she followed the clearly laden path.

It was time to end this game... if she could. A flicker of fear coursed through her veins. What if she couldn't end this? What if her mother was there to terrorize her and her pack forever more? The woman paused just outside of the caves, seafoam eyes closing as she inhaled a breathe to steel herself against the creeping anxiety.

It was the fluttering of a kick from within her belly that calmed her. She had to confront her issues... For them. Her... Her pups.

She ran her tongue around her lips and continued onwards, right up to the border of the pines. She could smell that pungent scent. This place had been claimed, a problem certainly for her own. Monroe used this place for herbs and her own hunters used it for prey. Sure, they could manage on their own land or by finding another hunting ground but the convenience would be long lost.

However, that was not the matter for today. What was, was that sliver of russet she could see in the shadows. She nearly hopped across the line, wanting to drag her out of hiding but also... she wanted to flee. To turn and tuck herself away so that the woman wouldn't find her.

Both eye teeth were exposed as she snarled and barked across the border, "Stay the fuck away from my territory." Eyes were narrowed to slits and her voice was like ice.

If only she felt as confident as she sounded and not a mixture of terrified, anguished, and angry.


374| @Amelia | it begins

"I Speak!"
I Think...

Wolf by Kati H. | Textures by JJ-247

Table by Plymouth
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#3
Amelia Detherage
Dark eyes fell wickedly upon her chosen prey. Her tail gave a slow wave, her cream tipped ears swiveled toward her victim, and a smile of sheer joy slithered across her witchy face. As the target of hers snapped her orders, Amelia’s body tingled with pure satisfaction. Her chin elevated slightly, turning away from Blackfoot as her lids slowly slid over her eyes. She soaked in blackfoot’s reaction, basked in the apparent anxiety, reveled in the pain she caused her own daughter. But it was as Amelia absorbed the anguish of Blackfoot that a certain scent caressed her nasal passages.

Her eyes peeled open again, her smile became less toothy, and her skull rotated to face Blackfoot’s face. Emerald met with sea foam, and the satisfaction that Amelia previously felt morphed into something greater, something otherworldly, even.

Pregnant.

Oh how enthralling this was. Still within the shadows Amelia’s russet figure began to slowly creep from her keep. Centimeter by centimeter, they unveiled her body, as if to reveal royalty. Queen of the Damned, Miss Detherage allowed a low rumble of a giggle to escape from betwixt otherwise clenched jaws. Her eyes became half lidded, her chin once again elevating, and her body remaining half way in the shadows. One delicate forepaw rested elegantly before the other, and her voice finally filled the void between them.
"A Queen, and yet - no escort?”
Could she do anything right?
"She owns territory, but lacks the army behind her.”
A hiss of disappointment, disapproval escaped Amelia.
"Dear daughter - light of my life - have I taught you nothing? Mmmm, such a failure. You never could amount to much, could you? Now look at you,”
Her head lowered slightly now, becoming almost leveled with her spine, as she moved even closer to Blackfoot. Her eyes were piercing, shooting dark blades which were meant to cut out hearts and shred souls.
"Hardly a whisper upon the wind.”
Her voice was low, almost a deep growl. She was downright disgusted with Blackfoot.

It was then her body snaked forward, hoping to encase Blackfoot in a semi-wide ranged circle. Her eyes observed her body, noticing particularly the small bulge about her barrel, remembering sweetly the missing chunk of her ear. Hatred spilled from every orifice of Amelia Detherage, seeing him in every aspect reincarnated in Blackfoot. She stayed a snarl, resisted a sneer, keeping her countenance full of pure amusement. After all, she wanted Blackfoot to writhe, not the other way around.
"Mommy never did take you for a slut,”
Her voice cooed as she moved to stand before her once more.
"How was he, mmm? I hope he’s still around to help you raise that brood,”
Her black heart could almost explode with joy now.

Her tongue clicked on the roof of her mouth, a sharp inhale taken as she finally addressed Black’s order.
"My darling, I wouldn’t dream of trespassing on your supposed kingdom. I have found a home of my own.”
She smiled again. Her nose tilting toward the ground, her eyes catching Black’s again.
"With Lachlan, in the caves.”
Her fangs glistened as the expression could not be stretched beyond ear to ear. She kept it hushed that Lachlan had actually given her away. Such a fine pet he was, Amelia was so pleased, she wanted to keep him forever.



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"We'll sharpen your teeth and the snakes start to sing." Heaven's full and Hell won't have me.

Table © Plymouth
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#4

The russet snake took all the time in the world to respond but one thing was constant, the joy upon her face. It was sickening to think that she was giving her exactly what she wanted but what could she do to not do that? The snake wanted her here and she'd come... if she hadn't come it would be as if she were avoiding her. Damned if she came, damned if she didn't. At least she wanted to air on the side of "not looking like a damned coward". Whatever that entailed from here on out.

The snake slithered ever close, walking as elegantly as a queen... but didn't she know that she wasn't even worthy of being the scum on the bottom of a rotten whale? It curled her lip upwards into a disdainful expression, even as she felt herself wanting to slide away. But no. The alpha did not run. She would stay her ground while the weasel prowled about. They'd not even met for a proper twenty minutes and already her spiteful tongue was waggling horrid things. Blackfoot felt a low growl bubbling in her throat right before she barked out, "Keep talking like I'm a child. You'll see I have an army at my back." Then, without even meaning to, she flinched. Her memories were vivid of the days of her youth if she spoke out of turn in such a way that she did now, she would be punished. It was hard to break such training and even now she cursed herself silently, pissed that she'd shown even an ounce of weakness to the woman.

Oh, but the spiteful hag was not finished. Next she moved onto the subject of her pregnancy, one of her weaknesses... as she wasn't even sure if she was worthy to be a mother. No matter what her loved ones said... "Fuck off..." It was said quietly, her normal venom that she could spew when telling others to leave her alone had been quieted in the face of her torment. Her eyes briefly downcast, away from the emerald pools that she could remember in her deepest nightmares.

Cailan had run off once... Could he do so again?

Would he-- NO! She was in her head.

"Projecting? Father did that to you, remember?" As far as she knew, that was the story. Grilled into her by her russet mother. A father that was absent, had abandoned them because he didn't care enough... A shame. But it was Amelia's own shame. "My mate actually loves me." Said with conviction that she knew. Even if she were still full of trepidation about the pups, Cailan was not. He would be there. He had to be.

Although quickly her attention was caught once more when her mother spoke of not trespassing. Her own eyes were suspicious as she stared but it didn't last long... especially when she spoke of why.

Black's eyes snapped open, shock and incredulity in her gaze. "What?!" Oh no, this would not stand! There was no way in hell that she would live as next door neighbors with her mother. That wicked snake would be Astaria's downfall, one way or another. It was only a matter of time because that bitch was always plotting.

Surely Lachlan didn't know. He couldn't know... She would have played that sweet mother act with him. That sickening ploy, she remembered it when they used to find loners and Amelia was the perfect doting mother around them... Until their backs turned. That's when the wicked words and sharp fangs came in. "Not for long." The blue woman was so angry, so pissed that she was ready to turn and march to the tunnels right then. "You'll be out on your ass when I tell him about you." That was no threat. It was a promise. If Lachlan didn't listen, well... Something would be done.

She would not live in fear again. She could not for herself, her pack, and her pups...

Especially them. Now that she knew about her pregnancy, she was certain that Amelia would take all the chances she could to take or corrupt them. Or both.

The blue woman seemed ready to turn and go, body angling to take her leave of the russet woman. To be finished with this, to hopefully get her ousted from her life one and for all. Somehow... At least she needed to be gone from the Caves.


742| @Amelia | -exit unless stopped-

"I Speak!"
I Think...

Wolf by Kati H. | Textures by JJ-247

Table by Plymouth
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#5
due to infringing on his territory, a wild anteros has appeared.

Not even a day.

Already the scent of a trespasser lingered, and one whom did not smell of another pack. A loner, one with no right to walk upon lands clearly marked, ignoring the warning that he clearly left at the time of their takeover. He did not take well to disrespect, and due to this he was hot on her trail. She could have waited for him at the border, gave him time to greet her, but instead had taken it upon herself to waltz where she was not desired. She was feet ahead, but he did not allow his gait to slow, he trot with purpose as audits lay flat against his crown. As he drew nearer there was another scent, but one much more familiar. His blood began to boil, not recalling inviting so many to a gathering that had not been set by him.

He picked up the sound of conversation, bickering it seemed back and forth between the two wolves. He could feel his skin grow more hot with irritation, golden orbs flickered with intensity.

Stay the fuck away from my territory.

He snorted.

She owns territory, but lacks the army behind her.

Anteros finally closed the gap between them, on one end stood Blackfoot, the woman of the beach, the neighbor to his lands, to his pack. On the other end stood a woman he had never come across, but her body language was enough to cause his muzzle to curl over ivory fangs, releasing a growl in her direction. Blackfoot was one he could deal with later, but for this woman to be on his lands threatening a woman he had parted with in good taste. Well...

Golden eyes locked on the crimson colored woman, her body was curled in a defensive state, her target clear within her sights. He took only a moment to look at Blackfoot, her vibe was different then last time as well as the way she carried herself. Pregnant. It didn't take him long to figure out, but quite frankly he was more concerned of the strangers business.

"Leave," his crown streamlined with his spine, his large paws splayed evenly against the earth while his banner tucked close to the inner parts of his thigh. Audits lay flat against ebon' crown and teeth bared at the stranger. This was his one and only warning, and his own body language would certainly make it concrete that if she came looking for a fight, she would get one.

"Talking."

table by argent 2017


@Amelia @Blackfoot
For all the lost sheep there is
The Sanctuary
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#6
Amelia Detherage
The anger which bled from every orifice of Blackfoot allowed Amelia to simply thrive. Her body shuddered with the satisfaction, chills running along her spine in sheer triumph. She got what she wanted. She wanted to torture Blackfoot, and all for things the blue woman could not control. None of it was her fault. But Amelia would never, could never, admit that. Deep down, she knew. But she also did not give a damn. Blackfoot looked like him and that was all Amelia needed in order to legitimately despise her own daughter. When Blackfoot shot daggers about how Crispin never loved Amelia, under normal circumstances she would punish her unruly daughter for such a crime. But in this moment, at this time, she simply would not allow her to ruin her lust for the torment. She simply sat in silence as Black tried to spit her own venom, but she was no snake. Not like Amelia was. Black never could adopt that suave demeanor Amelia had, she was far too much like Crispin. Blunt. To the point. Hardly graceful at all.

So it was with a light heart that Amelia basked in her child’s torment, as each of Blackfoot’s hateful retorts erupted into the air Amelia’s ego swell even more. Her mandible jaws unhinged to speak, but as Black turned her back, she was immediately became poised to pounce. It seemed her daughter needed reminding of who mommy was. She needed punished, a child beneath a mother’s paw, fang, and claw. Her cream bottomed tail swished behind her wildly as if a rattler’s posterior, her tipped ears remained forward, ever dominant. She was about to make Black plead for her life. Her limbs folded slightly at the joints, her dark eyes narrowed slightly — but her joy was interrupted.

”Leave.”

The voice of a man. The viper then coiled tightly, her head snapped in his direction with a dangerously harsh expression. He was larger, sure. He was stronger, no doubt. But he could not match, could not even fathom to face Amelia Detherage’s wrath. It went unrivaled, she was sure of it. Her lips peeled back immediately, disclosing lethal bridgework, a snake’s hiss pushed between her clenched jaws. A loud, ungodly growl erupted from her chest cavity, exploding like a volcano. It was guttural, innate, intense. He had ruined her moment. He had interrupted her triumph. This was what she had been waiting for, this was her reunion with her daughter, her sweet revenge - he stole it away. Unforgivable. Inconceivable. it was pure blasphemy. She hated him - no - she loathed him. He would pay for this. She’d make sure of it. Some way. Some how. She would ruin something for him, she would steal something away from him. Even now her emerald eyes locked with his own, but she scanned his face, memorized his pungent scent. She would swallow him alive.

Her svelte body pivoted to face him. Her cream tipped ears pinned to her cerebrum. Her tail leveled out with her spine, her head lowered to level as well, keeping her balance up to par. Her limbs spread four square, toes splayed and claws dug into the sod. Her chin lowered, her lids narrowed, her brows furrowed, eyes stuck on her new target. This nameless man, he overshadowed Blackfoot entirely. It no longer mattered that Blackfoot needed punishment, no longer mattered that Blackfoot’s anguish filled Amelia’s soul with sustenance. Again, the steely man stole that away from Miss Detherage. And she was not one to cross. One could only ask Blackfoot if so inclined to acquire proof.
"Foolish bastard! I will eat you alive."
No longer was her voice the smooth, the velvety toxicity it normally was. It was now a dark, brooding snarl, conjured from the depths of her bile, evil reincarnate.

It was all she would utter. Her rage could not be stayed anymore. She lunged. Her jaws sought his neck, her smaller body moved with intense velocity, her precision almost deadly. But she would not kill the man, no! She needed him alive, to torture the man, to ensure he felt everything he instilled on Amelia at this very moment. Her forelimbs hoped to grasp about his broader shoulders, as if to pull him into a bear hug of sorts. Her claws then aimed to dig into his flesh, like grappling hooks. She wanted to do some damage, she wanted to maim him so that he might remember her forever.

He would soon learn, just as Blackfoot did, Amelia Detherage was the devil.


AMELIA VS ANTEROS FOR DOMINANCE
Rounds: 1/?

Skills: dexterity, tolerance, sturdiness.

Defenses: pinned ears, spread legs, splayed toes, gripped claws, flexible tail, narrowed eyes, tucked chin.

Attack: lunged at anteros in hopes of biting his neck and wrapping her paws around his shoulders, maybe even clawing into him.

Injuries: n/a


words| @Name | notes

"We'll sharpen your teeth and the snakes start to sing." Heaven's full and Hell won't have me.

Table © Plymouth
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#7

Her back was turned, a prime target for someone that was ready to pounce. Her mind had been taken completely with the idea of ratting her out, of seeing her thrown as far away from Geld as possible. It left her vulnerable, the obsession, she knew better than to do it but had done so anyway. Her paws had started to carry her away but then the crackling of undergrowth and the commanding baritone of a man caused her to stop in her tracks. Ears rotated towards the sound, followed by her head.

Anteros. She recognized the an immediately and from his air and the scent that accompanied him, she knew that this was his territory. A mystery alpha come to reveal himself, now that was interesting and bad for Amelia. Which was fine with her. She couldn't leave now. No. she needed to speak with Anteros and let him know who this dangerous individual was and why he needed to guard his borders against her... and possibly even the Cave pack if she'd really cast her lot in with them.

Her eyes turned to Amelia at the flicker of movement. The russet woman's face had contorted into a thunderstorm of rage. Was she really going to blow her cover? Her usual game was to play the innocent victim and shift all blame to her daughter... but not this time.

Surely she would not attack an alpha on his own land. His pack was just a short call away. "Don't!" Was all she managed to say before the scene exploded before her. Amelia charging and lifting up to embrace the man in a deadly hug. She knew Amelia wouldn't listen to her but for some reason she felt the need to appeal to stop her foolishness. Why? She didn't know, her mother wanted nothing but her own downfall and here she was trying to stop her from making a stupid mistake.

She was disgusted with herself.

Even more disgusted that Anteros would now have to fight her mother. The woman could be a devil in battle, she'd seen it and it didn't seem fair to let the man fight on his own. Not when it was her own kin causing the trouble.

She took a step towards them, ears pinning, and fangs bared as she locked her eyes onto Amelia. She could grab a mouthful of flesh and attempt to tear the woman away from him... Yes, that would be perfect and perhaps together they could pin the mad woman.

A kick in her abdomen stopped her.

The pups.

What if she fought and lost them because of stupidity?

But could she just let Anteros fight alone without throwing in her support?

Another step forward as she snarled.

She had to.

Then she tensed, poised, right on the edge of action. Her body was ready to run towards Amelia and lay into her...


483| @Amelia | noooooooooo

"I Speak!"
I Think...

Wolf by Kati H. | Textures by JJ-247

Table by Plymouth
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#8

“Don’t.”

Kylar knocked her shoulder into Blackfoot’s. Tan paws were set far apart to hold her weight up and her injured limb—which bore no scars—delicately ghosted above the grass. Ruby eyes focused upon the blue wolf’s face, the intensity of her stare palpable but displaced. She wanted so badly to look at the fray, to watch Anteros as he met the russet wolf in battle, but she couldn’t. In this moment, she knew that she would rush to help him just as this wolf almost did—and she knew she’d be a liability. He could talk all he wanted about how strong he was but if that beast got her around the throat, Anteros would be powerless.

It was safer for her not to look.

It was better for her to demand that this strange, trespassing, pregnant, blue wolf stayed put too.

Mere minutes ago, she had been walking on patrol. The sound of voices had called her close and, when those voices turned agressive, she had lurched into a run. Kylar was not swift, but she was brave. Alas, it’d be her undoing one day.

When she had broken free of the undergrowth, she had just caught the trailing end of the red wolf’s rage. Her heart had lept into her throat and, for a moment, she thought she would go barreling into the woman’s jaws like a kamikaze.

Instead, the milky scent of pregnancy had filled her with confusion and forced her to take in the other stranger. There in the she-wolf’s limbs, Kylar had witnessed her own readiness to leap into the fray. The thought of a wolf endangering her pups, however, had filled her with a fear that she could not have described. Without thinking, she had moved. Not once had she questioned whether the blue had intended to help Anteros or the green-eyed witch.

Figuring that words would not have worked, Kylar went for a more physical approach.

So here she was awaiting reprimand or worse.

“You’ll lose them.”Her voice was firm.


"And in the dark, I can hear your heartbeat,"

TABLE BY NESLA/NORI
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#9
due to infringing on his territory, a wild anteros has appeared.

While he did not know the scuffle going on before his arrival, he was more so concerned with this new found stranger and the threat she extended to his pack. Blackfoot, who stood somewhere behind him now, became nothing but a blur of the moment as his golden eyes remained locked with the woman. His stance remained as so, audits still pinned flat and all four paws splayed among the floor, holding his posture securely until his opponent decided what she found most appealing. If she held any sense she would have heed his warning, but instead she had other plans it seemed. A woman ruled by anger, one who did not think of the consequences behind her actions. No matter, this would not be the first he ran into that lacked not only mannerisms, but common sense as well.

She lunged forward with jaws agape, and quickly golden eyes would scan her, only able to assume what move she was going to make for an attack. When her front paws reached out for him, and jaws aimed close to his neck he found it sensible to mirror her actions. Firmly he would plant his back paws against the earth, his banner remaining close to his thighs. His own jowls would part to their maximum ability, his chin tucking ever so slightly to protect the lower parts of his throat. The ebon' man aimed ivory fangs for not her neck, but her face, given their close proximity, his own paws reaching to drape over her shoulders. If his aim was in succession he hoped to grab the more vital parts of her face, and once attached would he then rip into the delicate parts.

Lost in the midst of his own attack her felt her teeth make a connection with the top of his right shoulder, her claws burying into his back without remorse. He did not whimper, he did not flinch, the pain only added to his adrenaline, fueling him to fight harder, as well as feeding into the desire for her to leave his lands.

Anteros had not noticed Black's attempt to reach out to help, or even so his companion coming to her aid. Had he been aware of Kylar's presence surly he would have felt more threatened by his opponent, as his life was not the one he worried about.

ANTEROS VS AMELIA [DOMINANCE]
Rounds: 1/3

Skills: Strength, Sturdiness, Tolerance

Defenses: Ears pinned, paws splayed evenly against the earth until attack, which then only backs are splayed. Banner resting close to backs of thighs, chin tucked, fangs bared.

Attack: Mirrors Amelia's attack, his fangs reaching for her face instead in hopes to attach them to more delicate features. Paws reaching out to drape over her shoulders as well.

Injuries: Scratches on back, significant bite wound to right shoulder with moderate bleeding.

"Talking."

table by argent 2017


@Amelia @Blackfoot
For all the lost sheep there is
The Sanctuary
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#10
Amelia Detherage
Another approached, but Amelia paid little to no attention to it. The perfume on the wind’s carry provided Amelia with the information that the newcomer was female, and she could be heard, but not understood. The russet serpent’s focus was solely upon the man, her target having switched from Blackfoot to him with ease. An unwilling ease, but one nonetheless. He didn’t have to be apart of this. In the witch’s eyes, he didn’t belong here at all. Not in her moment. Not in her triumph. Normally, the snake was ever patient. But this moment in time was devoid of it all. She could have had it all day with Blackfoot, allowed for the Crispin lookalike to spew her hatred and insults. But he intruded. So he would now feel the rage of which Amelia always held, just never showed. Not until now, anyway.

Her attack proved successful. Her claws were able to dig into his carapace, her fangs sinking into the top right section of his shoulder. Blood began to pool, but not flood her mouth. She tried to dig deeper with her fangs, wanting to let this wound for him be ever lasting, whether it be a scar, or even a muscle wound. Her neck began to wriggle violently, her attempt was to shred even more into his skin. A nasty snarl erupted through fur and blood and flesh, her claws trying to cut deeper so as to better anchor herself. Her hind limbs held steadfast, hind claws dug into the sod, and her tail moved effortlessly to act as a rudder to help her balance.

And then it was his turn. She felt the burning sting of his fangs into her own flesh, and not about her neck or shoulders, but her beautiful, her flawless face. He had just missed her eye, the narrowing of it helping, feeling the penetration of the corresponding ear closest to him. The pain fueled her adrenaline, but she would certainly feel that when it was all said and done. Her own thrashing did not help her case, but his in this instance, causing for her sensitive and thin ear to rip, tear, bleed. His bottom fangs seemed to wrap around, connecting at her upper nape, a bad position for the woman indeed. His claws dug into her back, mimicking her attack, but the man was much larger than she. She would have to move with swift precision. His chin was tucked, but did that mean she couldn’t reach his windpipe? If the smaller woman could snake her way up there, what would he have to bite but her nape?

Instead, the russet snake opted to remain where she was. To keep her grip on the chunk of flesh she had, to keep her claws upon his back. In her fit of rage she was unable to think properly, unable to function as she normally would. Her patience had broken, gone entirely in this moment. Another lashing of her neck, hoping to tear further into his skin, which in turn tore her skin within his grip even more - but she did not care. She only wanted him to hurt.



AMELIA VS ANTEROS FOR DOMINANCE
Rounds: 2/3

Skills: dexterity, tolerance, sturdiness.

Defenses: pinned ears, spread legs, splayed toes, gripped claws, flexible tail, narrowed eyes, tucked chin. (Unchanged)

Attack: kept her bite on his shoulder, trying to rip into him even more by violently thrashing her neck around, claws digging into his shoulder blades/back for grip. (Same attack essentially)

Injuries: ripped left ear, bite wounds on her face/head, moderate bleeding. Scratches in her back, minor bleeding


words| @Name | notes

"We'll sharpen your teeth and the snakes start to sing." Heaven's full and Hell won't have me.

Table © Plymouth
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