$apr1css
Page 1 of 3 123 LastLast
Results 1 to 10 of 27

Thread: Pink and Silver (Closed, Mature)

  1. #1
    Senior Member

    EXP: 7,350, Level: 3
    Level completed: 59%, EXP required for next Level: 1,650
    Level completed: 59%,
    EXP required for next Level: 1,650


    The Huntsman's Avatar

    GP
    1,069
    AP
    1
    Name
    Fil'ayn Kiljarden
    Age
    87
    Race
    Drow
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Alerar

    Pink and Silver (Closed, Mature)

    Extreme mature content. Please do not need to read. Sexual content begins at post 12.
    Tular was - closer to my homeland than I had been in several months. I - wasn't here for that though. I had been asked to help take down a small selection of wild beasts that had been threatening several villages on the peninsula. So I was patrolling the region, taking an opportunity to stretch out and get a bit of hunting done.

    I shifted my coat, resettling it on my shoulders as I narrowed my eyes at the ground. Twenty minutes ago, I had spotted the first signs of trouble. Brush was broken, heavily - like multiple forms had charged through, quite rapidly. I had begun stalking along this trail, picking up pace when I noticed droplets of blood. And now -

    Now I was staring at the clear marks of a pack of wolves. And at least one of them had clawed something. Damn, this looked like the claw marks of a dire wolf - so whatever they were chasing was in danger. And this must be the one on my list - a dire wolf that had recently brought a pack into the nearby area. I growled and picked up my pace - I saw some hoof prints, so it might be a rider or a wild horse. Hopefully it was the latter, and some poor person wasn't being chased by a pack of hungry wolves.

    As I ran along, feet skimming the ground, I drew out iron spikes from my vest. If, by luck, I managed to get there before whatever they were chasing fell, then using the throwing spikes might be able to buy them some time. I heard loud snarling, snapping - and frantic whinnying. A horse - but a mount, or wild? I broke through the trees - and froze.

    Neither.

    The animal, swirling, spinning and lashing out, forcing the wolves back, bleeding down one flank, was a brilliant white - with very faint tinges of a pinkish grey at the base of the coat. The hooves, covered in thick tufts of fur, were a faint grey, tinged with pink. Wild, unkempt mane and tail flew free as the animal kept the would-be predators at bay. But what froze me, why arrested me in my track - was the spiraling horn, white, tinged with traces of pink. From its neck hung a coil of rope, tied around like a noose.

    The wolves, led by the dire wolf, had found a damn unicorn. And were harrying the equine animal - it was putting up a valiant effort, but in time they would wear it down and kill it. It was trapped, and from flashes of panic in its pink eyes, it knew it. I - well. I could not let that happen.

    So I changed the game. One of the wolves lunged forward, its muzzle snapping for the unicorn’s rear flank - and it let out a pained yelp as iron buried itself into the snarling mouth. It spun, knocking over one of its companions, trying to find where the attack had come from. Behind my mask, I let out a matching snarl as several of the wolves, including the dire beast, turned to face me.

    That was fine. I could handle wolves. I swept the Saw-Spear from its holster, and rushed forward. I would take out the dire wolf first, it was easily the most dangerous of this pack. But - as I got close, I stumbled. A dizzying, giddy feeling washed over me, and it broke my attention for crucial seconds. The dire wolf lunged at me, and it leapt up. Its fangs buried into the flesh of my shoulder, and I let out a pained grunt as I felt the venom seep into me.

    I swept the blade up, fighting through the pain, and carved open the stomach and rib cage. Damascus metal and enhanced muscles forced their way through flesh and bone, and it dropped, howling. My left arm hung limp at my side as my healing tried to fight the venom. I clicked the blade out to fill extension and swept it around, burying it into one of the normal wolves as it tried to leap for me.

    I could feel magic working - the enchantment upon the Saw-Spear ripping life force and feeding it into me. It helped - but it wasn't enough. I spun my weapon in a circle, and roared out a challenge to the wolves. Let them come - my blade would drink of their life.
    Last edited by Philomel; 02-06-2018 at 04:11 AM.
    Cruel and brutal are the blades for the Beast
    It's time to Carve and Clatter and Cleave.

    A member of the NevCrew:
    Nevin: Thread count: please, don't try.
    Erik: Thread count: five or six. Maybe seven...
    Huntsman: seven. Maybe eight. Shhhhhhh.
    Telli' thread count: zero. I just can't get into writing the little hellion.

  2. #2
    Member

    EXP: 1,754, Level: 1
    Level completed: 88%, EXP required for next Level: 246
    Level completed: 88%,
    EXP required for next Level: 246


    Vixen Crowsfoot's Avatar

    GP
    257
    AP
    0
    Name
    Vixen Crowsfoot Quansaldo
    Age
    Around 3500
    Race
    Half-goddess, half-uniano
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone
    A rich heart, strong and heavy beat in her chest. Wildly she spun her head to stare with her left eye at the man who had run in. A spear struck right through the throat of one of the wild wolves, spilling blood onto her flank. Fine crimson smashed onto snow white hide. It now mirrored the other thigh, where a previous claw had severely ripped open a gash.

    Eyes staring at the man she snorted madly, counting quickly the amount of wolves again. There had been six at the beginning, then one she had managed to kick it's jaw in, so that was down some distance back. Their race had continued and gone for many miles as she had tried to throw them off in the deeper woods, but it and ended up with her caught here caught in the woods as she had veered into an unknown clearing. Enough room for the five remaining wolves. Now there were … two. Severely cut down when this hunter had come.

    But he - a shadow had run in. And downed one, then another. This latest had been utterly slaughtered, which allowed the unicorn to feel a chance of … well, hope. So long had been this chase, so fierce and brawling. Once back in the chase jaws had managed to settle around her throat from a surprise attack, but she had managed to swing it off and keep running. A line of blood ran from the various ripped puncture marks, but were hidden by her manic mane. She shrieked and felt a wave of new energy and reared up to pound the closest beast with her forepaws. Her eyes remained full of fear but she was now feeling more alive, covered in blood but with survival suddenly possible.

    The last wolf snarled and rushed for the man - who dropped low, one arm hitting the ground limply as his shining blade swept up. The edge hit the wolf and bit in deep, arresting its momentum, and as she watched, the man twisted and slammed downwards, driving the wolf into the ground. With a sickening, crunching thud it just broke, bones snapping as he tore his blade free. Slowly, he stood up, and silver eyes swept across the clearing they were in before his blade folded in half and he tucked it away.

    Huge pink eyes spun, taking in the general area, counting the bodies. One, two, three … many. She blinked, through the fear still pounded through her veins. The thought struck her then that she had just been rescued by a very skilled killer. Far more than she had been able to get. In a matter of minutes she had reduced her enemies from five to one.

    He had done that. But why?

    A horrible thought struck her and she spun to face him. Still adrenaline ran through her and it could last, she thought, against a last fight before she bled out. She was already backed up against a fallen trunk and a hill, so she could go no further back but maybe - maybe she could go forwards. Huffing and taking in a breath she stared him down, the fear clear in her eyes as she prepared for another possible fight. She took in the great dark coat, the silver shining eyes and the huge weapon before she swung her head, eyes filled with utter terror, intention clear.

    Ready to face him if this was it, if he had planned this all along. If he had killed the wolves … only to get to her.

    Damn the bloody noose.

  3. #3
    Senior Member

    EXP: 7,350, Level: 3
    Level completed: 59%, EXP required for next Level: 1,650
    Level completed: 59%,
    EXP required for next Level: 1,650


    The Huntsman's Avatar

    GP
    1,069
    AP
    1
    Name
    Fil'ayn Kiljarden
    Age
    87
    Race
    Drow
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Alerar
    I tilted my head to the side as I let my cloak settle back down, the Saw-Spear spear tucked away. The Unicorn was staring at me, with wide, scared eyes, and it had backed itself up, waving its horn at me, warding me away. I slowly held up my hands go show that they were empty. “Peace, peace fair one.” I spoke calmly, soothingly. “I have no interest in you, not in hurting you. These things were my prey.” Fuck, I had no idea how intelligent unicorns were. My focus in my studies had been on the animals that could become beasts - and unicorns were, themselves rarely in that category. If they became beasts, they lost many of their powers and became entirely new and terrifying creatures.

    I slowly, slowly approached, watching to see the equine’s reaction. I wanted to get that damn noose off of it - such animals were meant to be wild and free, not trapped like some show horse. The huge pink eyes blinked, and the creature snorted as it nervously paced, hooves anxiously moving. Eyes focused on me hard, untrusting. “Easy, easy fair one. Come now, let me get that off of you?” I gestured with one hand to the rope around its neck. “It is not right that one such as you is a captive.” I had paused. I hoped the unicorn understood enough to catch at least the smooth, calming tone.

    The unicorn stopped prancing as I finished speaking. Pink eyes blinked once, then stared at me, a sudden deep intelligence within them. The gaze was held for a long moment, in which neither of us moved - and then it seemed to accept. Cautiously, so cautiously it tilted its head to the side, exposing where the rope was half hidden under the mane.

    Slowly, holding one hand out and away where those pink eyes could see it, I began to loosen the knot of the noose. It took some doing, and I finally had to use both hands to pull it free and off of her. I quickly stepped back and tossed it to the side as the unicorn shook its majestic head once, then twice, testing its newfound freedom. Then it snorted and waved its horn at me, forcing me back a bit further - then there was a sudden breath of wind that appeared from nowhere.

    It was soft, but it had effect. It swirled between myself and the unicorn. From there it seemed to dance around her hooves. Her eyes slid closed, and a loud moan came from her, almost pleasing, before she threw her head up. The wind seemed to pick up, swirling faster and faster, but centered on her and as it did it played wildly with her man's and tail. But in the vortex she remained, a shiver running down her spine. She seemed to breath, mane sweeping up with one swell before it was between him and her. Then, it began to settle and as it did the unicorn began to change. Her fur shrank back, she shrank back in size, falling seemingly down onto her rear end …

    The wind subsided. And in its place was the crouched, deeply breathing form of a small naked woman. She had long white hair that dressed her form a little, exceptionally pale skin and pink eyes. A deep wound was on her right thigh and a series of small bite marks on her collarbone. But it was not these she paid attention to. Instead she was staring with wide, vivid eyes right at me.

    Lips trembled, then she spoke in a small voice.

    “Thank you.” I blinked. Repeatedly. That was - decidedly not something I could have possibly expected. She was staring at me, and I felt like she was examining me. And she was naked. Very, naked. I unclasped my coat and tugged from my shoulders, and slung it around hers, closing the top few buttons before stepping back.

    “I. Ah. Hello.” How the hell did you respond to a unicorn suddenly becoming a naked, attractive woman? Bleeding, no less? Fuck, no. Do not think about her blood, oozing down her side.

    “I. You're welcome.”

    A little she smiled at me before bringing the cloak in tighter about her. “You got any food?” she asked. “I really need meat.” I blinked, then slowly looked at the cooling bodies around us.

    “Well - turnabout is fair play?” I raised an eyebrow, trying to distract myself. She stared.

    “Anything but grass.” Aaaaaalright. I turned away from the staring woman, and began carving up the wolves, cutting chunks of meat from them. I tossed the ‘steaks’ into a pile. As I worked I looked over my shoulder - to see her still staring at me. It was - unusual.
    “Can you gather some wood for a fire?”

    The fixed glare became a gaze. It held for a moment, before she paused before grunting and nodding. One hand held the cloak together as she staggered to her feet - then let out a cry and crashed against a tree. Shit - I leapt to my feet and dashed to catch her before she fell go the ground.

    “Alright. Just - sit down for now, alright fair one? I'll get some wood to cook the meat.” I set her down, carefully, then turned and began to work on gathering up the wood, branches, and small leaves to serve as kindling.
    Cruel and brutal are the blades for the Beast
    It's time to Carve and Clatter and Cleave.

    A member of the NevCrew:
    Nevin: Thread count: please, don't try.
    Erik: Thread count: five or six. Maybe seven...
    Huntsman: seven. Maybe eight. Shhhhhhh.
    Telli' thread count: zero. I just can't get into writing the little hellion.

  4. #4
    Member

    EXP: 1,754, Level: 1
    Level completed: 88%, EXP required for next Level: 246
    Level completed: 88%,
    EXP required for next Level: 246


    Vixen Crowsfoot's Avatar

    GP
    257
    AP
    0
    Name
    Vixen Crowsfoot Quansaldo
    Age
    Around 3500
    Race
    Half-goddess, half-uniano
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone
    Damn. Damn. It bloody hurt.

    My eyes stared at the man - apparently my rescuer rather than my other form’s - aka the unicorn’s - hunter, as he awkwardly tried to prepare a meal as he came to accept that I had just become a woman rather than a horse with a horn. It was not every day it happened, as I understood it, but neither was it that wolves attacked and chased me for a solid two miles, and just after I had escaped from the lodge at Chotoi.

    I eyed him, and quickly surmised I could trust him. After all he had just clothed me, which had been generous. Well a cloak that was sort of a clothing. It was all I currently had and so I loved it.

    Peeling back the side of the cloak I sought and found the bastard wound that had affected my attempt to stand. With my unicorn form in general more hardy than my natural humanoid one, I had been able to stomach the wound for so long until now. Now, the adrenaline was gone and I was more of a weaker person. Thus I took the pain and effects of the three inch gash full blown. Blood oozed from it but it was not as deep as I had first feared, only down to the first layer of proper flesh.

    My eyes drew back to the warrior, the hunter. I watched him quickly try to gather things for a fire, and had not made to attack me again. It took a moment but I decided he was my current best choice of survival here and right now. Thus, I tilted onto my knees and began to shuffle along to gather wood from the ground. It was then I remembered the bites at my throat as the blood fell between me and the ground. Clutching a hand there and careful to not have the cloak expose me I began to make my living.

    He turned around at the soft sound, and his eyes went wide. “Fair on- oh by the moon your neck.” He dropped everything he had gathered and rushed to me, gently pushing me back to my ass on the ground. He still didn't seem to have any malicious intent - instead his hands fumbled at the pouches on his waist, and he drew out bandages and a pale blue salve in a glass jar. The hunter cleared his throat. “I'm - to bandage the wounds, and they need to be. I will have to touch your neck.” His voice was soft, cautious.

    I flinched at the last few words. Immediately, remembering that the rope still lay somewhere nearby, I drew back, a fear coming to my face. My hand remained where the bite marks were. But … well this was the man who had just removed the same rope from my unicorn, releasing me out. My breath went erratic before I took the brave decision and lowered my hands.

    “Be quick,” I said fast. Only lovers and haters ever touched me there normally. He nodded - then his fingers danced almost impossibly fast as he unfurled the bandages, and set them down across my legs. Then he opened the jar, and scooped some of the paste inside out onto two fingers.

    “This is meant to help the healing process, to rejuvenate the cells in the body and speed along natural growth. I say meant, because I have never had to use it on myself. I have an advanced healing factor that normally takes care of light wounds.” The apparently unimportant words, said in a rush - distracted me from the fact that he had already spread the salve across the bites on my neck. Hie eyes tilted - in a smile but I couldn't see his mouth or lower face behind the mask he wore. I could feel a tingling at the edges of the wounds - then he had lifted up the bandage, and smoothly wrapped it around my neck, sealing the salve against me and keeping the wounds ‘clean’.

    When he finished he straightened up and stepped away, holding his hands up and out, showing that all he had was the jar of blue salve in one hand. “Done, fair one. Are there any others you need treated?”

    I blinked for a moment rather liking this term ‘fair one’ as I guessed I was pretty fair skinned. Especially for him - I could see the nearly black skin on his hand. I paused before nodding and sticking out my thigh. “Big scratch, back a bit in the woods,” I said as I pulled back the cloak, careful to keep my holes covered up. I used my other hand to check on the work already done. He seemed to hesitate a moment, then nodded.

    “Alright.” He pulled out another roll of bandaged and stepped closer, kneeling to examine the wound. I heard him draw in a sharp breath. “Fuck, fair one. This is nasty. Do you have - enhanced healing?” His silver eyes slid up to meet my gaze.

    My eyes narrowed. “It's fine. It will be fine. I don't have my healing back yet, no. But if I die … well. That might be the fastest way actually,” the thought struck me as I tilted my head.

    “Fucking.” He set the bandages and jar down, then stood up straight and removed his hat from his head. “Your body resets when you die then.” He didn't seem surprised by the concept, as most would have been. “Right. Well. Without some kind of enhanced healing, this will need stitches. Sutures.” He pointed at the cut on my side.

    Frowning down at my thigh I signed, thinking about how much I honestly just wanted some meat. “I don't have anything at all,” I shrugged. “Lost my stuff back a week or something ago when I was chased by those bastards at,” I waved my hand in some random direction, knowing it would be not too far from here anyway. “People think they want a blooming unicorn in their stables.” I paused and looked up at him, who seemed to be taking my state and double identity very well. “If you've got a needle you can use my hair as thread?”

  5. #5
    Senior Member

    EXP: 7,350, Level: 3
    Level completed: 59%, EXP required for next Level: 1,650
    Level completed: 59%,
    EXP required for next Level: 1,650


    The Huntsman's Avatar

    GP
    1,069
    AP
    1
    Name
    Fil'ayn Kiljarden
    Age
    87
    Race
    Drow
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Alerar
    I blinked. Stared. Blinked and rubbed my eyes, then looked at her again. She was completely serious. I cleared my throat. “Fair one, would - would your hair even be sanitary to use in the wound?” I don't think so. Hair could, theoretically be used - but in general it wasn't strong enough. I doubted hers was strong enough but then again it might be. But even beyond that - I did not want to risk sewing up her wound with a non-sterile thread. If we got back to town or hell, even to my camp, then I could boil and sterilize some of the thread that I had.

    She looked with large eyes for a moment before dropping her head. “I've been a unicorn for a week … so I guess not.” She let out a huff and looked back at the ruined thigh. Blood still oozed, but it had apparently slowed, and she seemed to be sucking in gulps of air to stay awake.

    “Alright. Fair one. I have a camp not far from here. Do you - need me to carry you there?” I did not know how she would take the offer. I slowly returned my tools to my bag and began gathering up the meat and wood, moving them into a bundle. I frowned, turned away from her. Normally I would carry this all, if I needed to, in my coat, but the fair one needed that. So - I shrugged off my shirt and began piling things on top of it.

    There was a large splintering crack. I turned to see the fair one grabbing a branch and ripping it from a tree to use as a crutch. She unsteadily hoisted herself to her feet. Well - I suppose it could work. We would make an interesting sight if someone saw us - a half-naked drow with his shirt dripping blood slung on his back like a bag, and the hobbling, clearly injured and naked save for an overly long coat, woman.

    I held out one arm for her to brace herself on, and she took a moment before tentatively taking it. I gave her a slight nod, and then began guiding us back towards my camp.

    -----

    It took about thirty minutes of walking at the best pace the woman on my arm could manage. Not that I particularly blamed her - but walking for half an hour with the oozing sack of meat on my back was, in a word, uncomfortable. But we finally turned past the trees that sheltered my tucked away camp from sight. The tent to one side, with the log that I had pulled up to serve as a seat to the other. Between them was the ring of stones that still held embers from the last fire.

    I gently guided her to sit on the log, then dropped the tied up shirt near the banked fire, then went to search my small tent. I knew I had - there. I pulled out a small copper pot, beaten and battered, with clear dents in it. I - should probably get a replacement at some point. I looked over to the fair one.

    “I will be back shortly, I need to get some water to boil and some wood for the fire.” I spoke softly, then turned and started to head towards where I knew a small stream was flowing somewhat nearby. I paused though, in case she needed something before I left. Nothing came, and she remained silent - so I left, heading for the stream.

    Cold, clear water filled the copper pot. I balanced it on one hand and began scooping up some wood. I tucked them under my arm and grabbed some more, carrying the wood and pot back to the camp.

    The fair one was perched still on the log, cloak around her and feet tucked under. She glanced at me as I came in with wide eyes. “It should take only a little bit once I've gotten the fire going.” I set the pot of water down near her, letting her examine it if she wanted to. While she did that, I worked on the fire, gathering up a bit more wood from near the camp to build it up to a decently sized blaze.

    As the fire was roaring to life, I untied my shirt and took some of the meat out. I took sharp sticks and skewered the chunks, and then set them near the fire. As the meat began to cook I went to my tent and found the spit, and set it up then carefully set the pot of water over it. It was - hot. Because I had done this frazzled and not thinking, or I would have set up the spit and pot before the fire. Still, some mild burns to my forearms and hands would fade in time. I stepped back, then sat down near the fire, to turn the meat as it roasted.
    Cruel and brutal are the blades for the Beast
    It's time to Carve and Clatter and Cleave.

    A member of the NevCrew:
    Nevin: Thread count: please, don't try.
    Erik: Thread count: five or six. Maybe seven...
    Huntsman: seven. Maybe eight. Shhhhhhh.
    Telli' thread count: zero. I just can't get into writing the little hellion.

  6. #6
    Member

    EXP: 1,754, Level: 1
    Level completed: 88%, EXP required for next Level: 246
    Level completed: 88%,
    EXP required for next Level: 246


    Vixen Crowsfoot's Avatar

    GP
    257
    AP
    0
    Name
    Vixen Crowsfoot Quansaldo
    Age
    Around 3500
    Race
    Half-goddess, half-uniano
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone
    I remained silent as the hunter came and went, then set up the food before me. It took time, and he seemed to have forgotten about my wound that he could wanted to stitch up, but I did not moan. It had happened long enough in the past that, with me surreptitiously stealing some of the salve from under the bandage at my neck and shoving it on it. Then I pinched it closed with fingers, breathing in long and deep to try to stay aware.

    Blood unfortunately was vital for both unicorn and half god forms. Therefore any of its loss was a problem. With that thought I muttered under my breath, and looked around - to see the hunter staring at me steadily with those silver eyes.

    “You - fair one. The water is so I can tend to your injury without making things worse.”

    I blinked with large eyes. So he hadn't forgotten. Hugging a little I lowered my head onto my knees. “I see,” I replied. Then I paused, knowing that those silver eyes likely meant some form of magic thrummed in him. I knew that much at least despite most of my life having been underground.

    “You can call me Vixen,” I said, finally deciding to give him my name. “Or … Horny.” It had been a nickname someone had given me ironically over a thousand years ago when I had told them of my unicorn form. They had then attached it to my lively desires and … well, it was just a name now.

    The hunter blinked several times. He seemed to be doing that a lot, and it made me rather amused to see him so shocked by me.

    “Ah… I’m going to assume that is not an offer, but a nickname. Ahem. I am called the -” He paused. Seemed to think. Then he closed his eyes. “My name is Fil'ayn. I prefer being called Hunter, or Huntsman.”

    An offer? The thought hadn't passed my mind but it struck me that I hadn't had any sex since my escape from the catacombs back in Hernsford. Herik had been the slave's name, and I had misused his trust in order to get free. In the panic of escaping I had unfortunately needed to end Herik’s life … but then desperation had come to me after what I thought was nearing two thousand years in that light form of hell.

    The hunter wasn't too ugly. Drow were not something I had much experience with, though they were the ones of the crew I had recently just got away from. They were the reason I was finally here, in a place called Tular according to the demon hermit Undun who had helped me greatly. I had been their captain's slave and killed him too.

    But this one seemed to have no intention of slavery on me. I looked at him with an odd expression before shrugging, thinking it would not be an awful idea. He was shirtless as I could see, and the muscles spoke of a good body at least above waist.

    “Some people use it. Call me Vixen then ...Hunter.” I respected him enough not to use his real name if Hunter was his preference. “I should probably heal up before I have any sex anyway.”

    He tilted his head to the side, silver eyes staring at me. Then he turned his gaze to the pot, which had begun rolling in a boil while I was thinking. He opened a pouch on his waist, and took out a small needle and a long loop of thread. Holding the tail end of the thread between his fingers he dipped the needle and thread into the water.

    “In, ah, that regard. The needle and thread should be sterile soon. And with the thread wet, as it dries it will pull the edges of the wound tighter together. As for sex - when you're stitched up and I put some more of the salve on your wound, you should be good to go with whoever as long as they take a little care.” He seemed to pause for a moment and shook his head, pressing his lips into a thin line as he thought. “Or if you don't mind pain and they don't. Anyway. How do you like your meat?”

    My head tilted to the side. Pain? Well I been a concubine for the Sorcerers of Hern for over seven hundred years. I had experienced every sexual idea and trial it felt. Some had even ended my life. But then when your sexual partner was your master and he knew you could come back to life. I grunted with the memories I had simply accepted as my past and looked at the man.

    “I like my meat rare,” I replied. “And my sexual partners any way they prefer.” I moved to shrug the cloak away from my leg, sticking it out for his reach. As an experiment I also let the fabric lie in such a way that he could have seen my underneath holes if he angled his head in just the right way … it would need to be very exact.

    “Right then, yours should be done - now actually.” He pulled the thread and needle from the boiling water, and let it hang from his hand, cooling down. His other hand picked up one of the meat skewers, and he turned his head up towards meet my gaze as he handed it over to me. I had seen his eyes trail along the outstretched leg, and linger on the injury for a moment, then slide towards my nether regions before continuing up to focus on my face. It didn't seem he had angled himself.

    Well he had noticed, which meant something. That was a nice feeling. But as soon as his eyes drifted away I put the cloak back again. Then I reached and grabbed the meat because that was my bigger desire right now. Food. Especially food that wasn't grass. My father above, I had needed to bite a handler last week in the Choibo stables just to get some blood needed for my sustenance. As I ate - the Hunter started working, his fingers pinching the edges of the wound shut and drawing the needle back and forth along the wound, literally looking like he was sewing the meat like a piece of cloth. He did not seem to mind my blood staining his fingers and hand in the least.

    I began the annihilation of the wolf meat. It was breathtaking and wondrous, and warm, and I ate feverishly, letting the juices run down my chin. My eyes were not on the Hunter, but rather on the meat that was what I needed. After finishing one skewer I looked around for the next, letting the blood of my mortal half heritage guide me. I saw one over the other side of him, and I paused a moment but this was all worth it. My father, it was utterly amazing meat …

    And it was there for my taking. So I dared and stretched across my healer, without much of a care for anything but the food. I found I needed to lean further than I originally thought but the taste was so good that … I bumped against his bare chest and I lost grip a little on my borrowed clothing, causing it to slip and a side of breast becoming exposed.

    Quickly I grabbed the meat and retreated back, pulling the cloak closed and nibbling my lip with a little bit of embarrassment. “Sorry,” I mumbled as I dug in.

  7. #7
    Senior Member

    EXP: 7,350, Level: 3
    Level completed: 59%, EXP required for next Level: 1,650
    Level completed: 59%,
    EXP required for next Level: 1,650


    The Huntsman's Avatar

    GP
    1,069
    AP
    1
    Name
    Fil'ayn Kiljarden
    Age
    87
    Race
    Drow
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Alerar
    I couldn't help but stare at her for a moment. When she had bumped into me, I had caught sight of smooth white skin, taut and tight. And by gods it had been too damn long at this point. I had to close my eyes and swallow, hard, to help force the image out of my mind. Damnation I had seen it all before so why was it that now that she was swimming in my clothes that I was more aroused? Fucking hell, how long had it been? Weeks? Months? Not since - I shoved the thought from my mind.

    No, no. This is a unicorn. One who - apparently had no compunction against sex. But I had rescued her from those wolves, and then whatever the hell was going on with that noose - she'd been a captive. She wasn't needing sex, she needed some care and some food.

    “Don’t worry about it.” Damn it. I hope she didn't catch the sudden hoarseness to my voice. I looked down at her leg - and tied the knot at the end of the thread, finishing the field stitching. Fuck. Fuck it had been too long and her leg looked good bloody, the contrast between the white of her skin and the red of her blood was getting to me. I needed to move away from her. Now.

    I started to stand up. She had finished the second chunk of meat and was now staring at the stick before her. Her lips were drawn in a thin line she seemed to be breathing heavily. I turned to the fire.

    “I can roast more.” There was another skewer, but I had been letting it cook longer, so it wasn't rare like she seemed to like. And fuck. The blood and juices staining her lips was damn good and I - wanted to taste it. Fuck, no. That would not work out well at all. So I just started stabbing more meat and setting it to roast as I sat down - somewhat near her, but not next to her. Her blood on my hands was tantalizing. I reached out and took the chunk of meat that had been cooking longer, and slowly began to eat - surreptitiously getting her blood on the meat as I ate with my hands.

    Her ears seemed to prick up as she gazed at the meat new on the fire. A lively hunger was there, and a small smile. “Meat is so much better than grass,” said she. “Or hay. But Unicorn can't each much of it.” She said Unicorn like it was a proper noun.

    “Not exactly a normal unicorn, are you, Vixen?” I turned my head towards her slightly as I tore some of meat off of the chunk I was eating. Her blood was - almost sweet. Tangy, different. Fuck. I can't tell if this was a good or a bad thing. It was - fuck. I ate more of the meat tinted with her blood as I watched her.

    Her head tilted to the side as she turned to look at me with a strange amusement there. “No, I'm not. Mainly because the form you're looking at right now is my main one. I turn into Unicorn,” she blinked. “I'm actually half god and half uniano … a creature not unlike a vampire. But Unicorn is a symbol of them … so in a way I am Unicorn in birth … I guess?”

    My eyes widened slightly. “Like a - do you need to consume blood directly then? Would it be more effective to helping you heal?” It - would not be the first time a half-vampiric creature had drunk my blood.

    Vixen smiled a little, and she drank in a large breath. She paused, blinking away and hard as if she was lost for a moment, then returned to me. “I don't think it would help the healing process. My powers have only just started to come back. I do need to consume blood to not die … but as I already told you I am immortal so it's … I'm not sure.” I hummed in thought. It was. Well. I'd had her blood - not that she seemed to realize it. I turned to look at the fire.

    “Let me know if you wish to try.” I kept my voice calm. Alright. She didn't know if it would help so she probably wouldn't want to try. But - damn. Focus, focus. You aren't sexually driven so don't let the thought of the small woman in your coat, nursing on your blood turn you on. Damn it this was not helping. I reached out and snatched up one of the meat skewers and held it in her direction, not looking at her.
    Cruel and brutal are the blades for the Beast
    It's time to Carve and Clatter and Cleave.

    A member of the NevCrew:
    Nevin: Thread count: please, don't try.
    Erik: Thread count: five or six. Maybe seven...
    Huntsman: seven. Maybe eight. Shhhhhhh.
    Telli' thread count: zero. I just can't get into writing the little hellion.

  8. #8
    Member

    EXP: 1,754, Level: 1
    Level completed: 88%, EXP required for next Level: 246
    Level completed: 88%,
    EXP required for next Level: 246


    Vixen Crowsfoot's Avatar

    GP
    257
    AP
    0
    Name
    Vixen Crowsfoot Quansaldo
    Age
    Around 3500
    Race
    Half-goddess, half-uniano
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone
    Hunter seemed incredibly preoccupied. There was something in him that was a little off, and I noticed it in the way his expressions said frustration and how he grabbed the skewer. Slowly I took it from him, still breathing long and hard to keep my awareness up, but I kept my eyes on him.

    I paused and wondered if he could do with soothing. And it would maybe serve as a distraction as I made an excuse to sneak off and likely fall unconscious by myself. Years and decades of acting had kept me going thus far, so long of keeping up pretences if strength when your rapist was coming for you. “I only like you when you're strong,” was a favourite phrase if the Sorcerers of Hern, and so I could be just that.

    I sucked in my breath and produced a weak projection, the best I could do in the circumstances. It came as an unseen wave that gave those around me a subtle sense of joy. Of course I could also use it in sexual activity, to increase pleasure in that field, but that … that was very much not on the cards for me right now.

    Definitely maybe later with this one though. Very, very likely. I liked how he had concentrated on my vampiresque side and not the half god. Trying to help, not intrigued as to how he could use me. That was different. Nice and different. So I emitted the field and waited for his reaction, eyes intent as the meat lay still in my hand and shaking began in my legs. I prayed for it to work.

    He blinked and his eyes glazed over a bit. He lifted one hand to his face, feeling his lips as they curled into a slight smile. Good - it was helping him. But then his face stilled and the smile faded. He drew a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

    “Alright - I - something is getting to me. You should get some rest, Vixen. Your body will need that to heal.” He still wasn't looking at me.

    I narrowed my eyes for a moment, knowing then that he had resisted it. But then, my use of that particular power of mine - the only one I had been able to use these past three millennia as well as my passive immortality tendency - had been wavering in weakness for a long time. Sucking in my breath I avoided a sigh before I nodded at his words. Rest would be good, very good. The loss of blood was … yes. Rest. He had now suggested it so I could go for it.

    So therefore I stood.

    Which was a massive mistake. No sooner had I done so then the pain that had been lingering in the back of my mind swum up into my head. I felt a wave of nausea climb, as well as lightness. I let out a gasp as my legs gave way and I …

    I crashed to the ground, where I sat, blinking heavily.

    Fuck. Why was living so hard? Drowsily I slumped there as my body began the steady decline into unconsciousness.

    “Oops. Sorry. Blood loss. Hmm … do me a favour and kill me?” I drawled, and with my back to him. “I should be fine then in … twelve hours. Hmm … then we can have all the lovely, lovely sexuals.”

    With that, I slumped. And fainted.

  9. #9
    Senior Member

    EXP: 7,350, Level: 3
    Level completed: 59%, EXP required for next Level: 1,650
    Level completed: 59%,
    EXP required for next Level: 1,650


    The Huntsman's Avatar

    GP
    1,069
    AP
    1
    Name
    Fil'ayn Kiljarden
    Age
    87
    Race
    Drow
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Alerar
    I stared. What the shit. What in the actual shit. She - she had been acting. I should have seen it, I did it myself. Fuck. I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath. I wanted to help her. And she firmly believed that death would help her the best. I stood up, and picked her up cradling her unconscious form in my arms. I carried her into the tent then closed my eyes again.

    Women really needed to stop asking me to kill them. At least Philomel hadn't done that. One out of four was a terrible track record though. Kara, the dhampir girl, had asked me to if she lost herself to her blood thirst. Scarlet not only wanted me to kill her if she was losing herself to the corruption - she had told me exactly what was needed to do it. Fuck, at least Vixen was sure she would come back. I kicked the bed roll open, then carefully, gently, laid her down in it. She didn't stir, not even a little. I took a deep breath, then let it out as I leaned down and -

    gurk

    Her head lolled to the side as I squeezed, my fingers choking her smoothly and swiftly. She had made a slight sound as I strangled her, and her boy thrashed as she tried to resist. But I bore down, and she passed without even waking up. I slowly stood up and stared down at my hands.

    Disgusting.

    Just - if she didn't come back I doubted I would let myself get near anyone. This - she was a unicorn. Or a unicorn sometimes. And I just choked her to death. I gently covered the body up and walked outside and sat down heavily by the fire, strength leaving my legs. Fuck.

    She wasn't a hunt. She wasn't prey. She had asked for help. I had saved her - and now I had killed her. If she - if she was wrong. If I had just helped a unicorn woman suicide. I - fuck. Fuck. She had better come back. I don't think I could look Philomel in the eye if I had strangled a woman to death who had asked for my help.

    I drew my knees up and stared at the fire.
    Cruel and brutal are the blades for the Beast
    It's time to Carve and Clatter and Cleave.

    A member of the NevCrew:
    Nevin: Thread count: please, don't try.
    Erik: Thread count: five or six. Maybe seven...
    Huntsman: seven. Maybe eight. Shhhhhhh.
    Telli' thread count: zero. I just can't get into writing the little hellion.

  10. #10
    Member

    EXP: 1,754, Level: 1
    Level completed: 88%, EXP required for next Level: 246
    Level completed: 88%,
    EXP required for next Level: 246


    Vixen Crowsfoot's Avatar

    GP
    257
    AP
    0
    Name
    Vixen Crowsfoot Quansaldo
    Age
    Around 3500
    Race
    Half-goddess, half-uniano
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone
    Twelve hours later.

    My immortality is dependent on time. Anything of a direct stab through the heart of less will result in me coming back roughly twelve to fifteen hours. The more minor killing wounds - such as strangulation that really leaves little to be physically needing healed - will allow me to return in the lesser. Anything above a stab to the heart will take longer, from decapitation at nineteen hours and full body disembowelment and separation of the arms, legs and extremities at twenty four. I can regrow limbs in death, dispel all poisons from it, and and heal every malady or illness. The trick is useful and unlimited in its uses.

    I gasped loudly and my eyes snapped open. It took me a moment to remember what I had been doing before the silent dream of sleep, but the memory of the fire, wolf meat and the Hunter came back to me within a few seconds. My eyes pierced the slanted fabric roof of a tent and and I figured that I was lying down, tucked in with some blankets. A shiver ran down my spine. I paused, before it came to my understanding that I was in a tent and also that I was missing all my pain.

    All of it - the leg, my neck and even a tiny scratch that had been begging on my right little finger for days - all of that pain was gone. It had vanished away. I breathed in as I tried to ease a hand out of the confines of these blankets and I touched the neck, where the bandage still was. After a very brief hesitation I lifted up the side and felt the wounds where I remembered them to be.

    They were … gone.

    Good, thought I, my pain at least was gone. That made things a lot easier and better. No more pain meant no major distraction. I shook a little before trying to sit up right. Blood sugar what would help to gain to that, and it was running healthier now.

    I managed to sit up, and I realised I was naked, but quite honestly I did not care. I eased myself as best as I could onto my knees, escaping from the blanket before swinging my eyes around the interior of the tent.

    It was small, and filled with just simple travelling things - a common pot, tankards and the like. Breathing in deep I nodded before I registered completely that there was no-one there before I raised my voice.

    “Hello?”

    There was a surprised grunt from outside - and then the sound of motion. The Hunter came in a moment later, looking rather disheveled. His hat and mask were not in evidence and he still hadn't seemed to find a short. Now, looking at his chest and with a mind that was thinking properly, I could see thick scars running from his shoulder to his waist. His silver eyes were wide as he came in, staring at me.

    “You're alive.” Relief rolled across his shoulders, and his body posture relaxed. “Are you feeling better?”

    I blinked a couple of times before angling my eyes away from the scars and immediately got caught in his glorious silver gaze. My lips formed a little circle and I was thrown off momentarily.

    I had asked him to kill me and he had done it.

    That was nice of him.

    “How long has it been?” I asked, pulling the blanket underneath me to cover my exposed breasts. “And I am feeling better, yes, in a good comparison.” I sat there and smiled at him, liking the shade of skin under his eyes, the curve of his lips and the wildness of his hair. Vague memories of what I had considered possible with him came to me, and I hoped I hadn't said anything to him that I might regret.

    “How are you?”

Posting Permissions

  • You may not post new threads
  • You may not post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts
  •