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Post by FlightWorks on Feb 13, 2010 18:20:16 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,450,true] | [atrb=background,http://i903.photobucket.com/albums/ac235/flightworks/krankbg.gif] His paws were slick with blood. Ginger and sorrel colored fur had soaked up what it could of the vivid crimson nectar, but with more pouring out there was no way to contain it. It had soaked onto his chest, bathed his front limbs with the now lukewarm moisture that could hardly be seen against his black strands to begin with. It did make his torso awfully shiny, lips splattered with the macabre of his deed now done seeing as his victim lay so very near death across his paws. To a passing viewer this may be interpreted as a lovers embrace for the corpse he was salivating over was distinctly female, though not wolf it still had the necessary equipment to impregnate most things of the canine genus. Krankheit might've told any other that they were correct with their assumptions for he had long since started to associate sexual activities with death as foreplay. Sadly when such things occurred, his partners never lasted long past the prelude to actual entertainment.
Laying on his belly among the sun-warmed granule made Krankheit's ebony pelt appear less magnificent, grungy with sand and a generous layer of snow that he and his accomplice had rolled through. He wasn't looking to attract anyone other than his coyote friend whom he'd been chasing from the glade here. She stared at him with yellow eyes, mouth open, trying desperately to keep breathing and the jaws around her throat weren't helping. Clawed paws made small convulsive movements in the already disturbed snow. A prickling warmth transfered from her body to his, jumping like vibrations through metal and acting as if he were a conduit. Made his veins sing and bones rattle like a cicada. He'd never get tired of the sensation of the hunt; even better when it was a distant relative.
She gave another valiant thrash and he bit down harder, moving under him like warm, furry water just thick enough to grasp. Although Krankheit was a habitual, sociopathic wolf killer, he deemed it necessary to spread his virtues to other related species who just happened to strike his fancy. That compulsion to mangle the living such a frustrating need but so delicious he had to share it.
Teeth embedded almost to hilt in her neck he felt that resilient pulse die at last. Pulling back slowly he hovered over the incisions he'd made, traced them with his tongue; then the next time over the punctures he plunged that thick, meaty appendage a little deeper but still strangely gentle. Almost like he was afraid to wake his fallen companion. "You have been a naughty, naughty boy..." He cooed though knowing nothing of any transgressions committed by the creature he wanted to lull him like he loved her. When he retracted again he let his tongue rest in the dell of his jaw, rolling the tang in his mouth as if trying to guess the flavor of a wine. Bending down again he gingerly stripped flesh from the area but with such a tenderness as not to ruin the two savagely perfect marks he'd made. It still gushed red, hot serum onto the snow when he'd sheared away fur and tissue to see the larynx for what it was, the structure of God's expertise.
Krankheit finally plunged his tongue in again, widened the slackened tissue made a little squelching noise. When this happened, the male closed his eyes as if to listen as if the sound could tell him something he hadn't been able to decipher when she'd been alive. But you could be assured that wasn't the motive behind his endeavors. He was savored the sound. The way someone closes their eyes to a particular piece of music. Close your eyes so that sight doesn't steal some of the audio. Relish it like you may never get another chance to experience it.
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Post by V i r u s on Mar 3, 2010 21:42:58 GMT -5
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Here you are, down on your knees
What an interesting thing to come by, especially in the winter. Blood. And a lot of it. Lakai's nose had picked up the scent miles away, and her mouth watered the second it registered in her head. Her paws were silent as they carried her swiftly over the white-burdened land, small flakes whisked up behind her as she trotted onward. It was the blood of coyote; Lakai knew this well. But blood was blood, all the same, in her opinion, and she needed to feast upon it like her lungs required to filter oxygen. She ventured onward, her gait quickening as the scent grew stronger and stronger. Her flaccid pink tongue lolled out of her jaws, saliva falling heavily from it, though she took no heed to this.
Her paws carried her deep into a forest, where the scent weaved this way and that through the trees. But Lakai hung on tightly, weaving skillfully through the entangled trees. Her nose kept hold of the smell of the sweet liquid, and she soon came upon a large, black brute. The scent of blood was so strong here that it seduced Lakai in a matter of seconds, making her swoon as she began to froth from the mouth. She stepped into a dim ray of light, her eyes glittering dangerously. "Excuse me for intruding," she choked for a second, "but I was curious as to if I may join you on your ... feast," she cooed, her shrill voice shattering the silence that the forest once held.
{ w o r d (253) c o u n t }
TRYING TO FIND AIR TO BREATHE
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