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05-31-2014, 08:08 PM
Lakota
The Poisoner Aodaun had found Ktulu and Archibald as he scouted ahead, he and his cherished one intending to meet the pair along the patrol line by meeting in the middle. What he ended up finding, however, wasn't nearly as innocent as Lakota had been anticipating. Vision flickered, sharing Aodaun's eyes with a gasp at his forcefulness, and in a separate area she watched as Archibald stalked towards someone out of the frame of Aodaun's vision, words snarling the answer to an unasked question. "It is now you will be leaving, Confutatis." Heart skips and she wrenches herself from the link she has formed with her bonded, poison building in her system until it bubbles, until it burns. Hatred sears her insides, spitting acid on her tongue and causing frame to tremble with memories that surge up against her like a tidal wave. Apollo struggling to maintain his title, heart of a medic pounding like a frightened bird as he shone with valor and desperation, fighting for the safety of those who loved his peaceful mindset. The splash of his blood on his pelt, the fear and determination in his hazel eyes. The desire to run to him, to fight for him, to go hoof to hoof, tooth to tooth with the nasty bitch that had randomly pranced into their homeland with no real reason for challenge. NEVER AGAIN. Before she can so much as blink the shock from her features she is charging towards the group, scraping past bark in her haste, mindless in her fury. The cunt had desecrated her home once before, had fallen like a shameful whelp of a street-whore bitch beneath the blows of her brother, and Confutatis would choke on the putrid material of her internal organs before she ever dared to spread her foul desperate scent through her new home. Lakota would be the one to watch her gag on the flesh of her insides, to let blood run down her cheeks and drip from her nose, and she would laugh. She would watch her fall, and she would burn her until only the stench of her ashes remained to fuel the world's memory of her. The skull-faced failure was like a foal, whining and stomping her hooves, demanding power only to be smacked aside like a petulant fly. Lakota would crush her, would smother her in the thickness of her mists. Ebony pillars slam into the earth and she slides, gouging the flesh of the ground as she skids angrily to a stop before the ugly bitch. Psychotic hatred burns in her eyes, face wrenched up and teeth bared, ears flat and shoulders shaking with rage. Don't kill! Crime! Lead not know! Aodaun slams into her consciousness but she doesn't so much as show a tremor on the outside, and she wishes she could rip the jugular out of the crazed cur and watch her squirm on the ground as she bleeds out slowly. Despises that she can't. "You disgusting bitch, get your foul used ass away from our borders!" She hisses, as venomous as a viper and just as sibilant. Stalks forward one step, two step before Aodaun reminds her of her restrictions as he bounds to her side. Snarls at the skull-faced mare, carnivorous teeth flashing ivory in the setting light, a promise of painful dismemberment. "I will kill you, Confutatis," she snarls, a promise, an oath. "Someday, bitch, I will kill you. I will watch you bleed out, I will watch you choke and puke your insides, and I will wear your skin as a cloak. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but your head will be mine, skull-face." Of course the bitch instead calls out for Kaj, the King, and Lakota contents herself with that explicit promise and forces her body to obey when she steps backwards towards Ktulu and Archibald. Even still her frame reverberates with the intensity of her emotions, violet orbs inflamed and teeth still bared at the rump of the slut that walks away to fight her King. |
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