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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


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    #1

     
    She didn't know how she'd ended up here. The mountains, wreathed in smoke, painted an eerily beautiful background to her despair. All she had been looking for was a home. A home, and how had she ended up here?

    Her flanks heaved with exertion. She couldn't remember.

    Remember.

    She was running, had been running, from something. Whatever it was wasn't here but with a glance she knew this valley wasn't safe either.

    Her wide brown eyes glittered in the predawn moonlight, the beams catching the pale gray of her coat and announcing her presence like a beacon. She wished desperately that she could hide. This place felt wrong, unsettled. But she was tired and her hooves would take her no further. She would be an unsheltered flower in a field, ready to be plucked. Prey.

    If she was being watched, one might notice the moment when she gave up. Weariness engulfed her and she lowered her head to rest, surrender in every line of her lithe body. She was tiny, with speckles of darker gray and black along her coat, and strings of yellow and cream, white and gray, tangled in her mane and tail. She was lovely, a tiny doll, and completely alone.




    ooc: I kind of left it open ended so do what you will! ;-) Just no death, but everything else is pretty much fine.
    #2


    Nobody was ever alone when you were in the Chamber and that included it’s territories. He had started to wander off from the pine graveyard he usually haunted, finding the heartbeat of the kingdom disturbing beneath his hooves. It was also getting hotter and he was uncomfortable with the temperature. Coolness, dampness. It was what he preferred. So the Chamber ghost climbed high, finding the area much more to his liking. The somber clouds that hung low in the sky, the iciness when you reached the peaks. There were sparse trees here as well, familiar to the ones in the Chamber he usually wandered. It was also empty so he crashed here often when he could no longer stand the flickering flames of his kingdom.

    Today was no different. He was becoming more accustomed to wandering the precarious edges of the mountain, had already started to leave a game trail from walking the path so many times. After sheltering in a low alcove, he made his way out to sate his thirst from the creek. This was another little bonus, several little water ways ran through and the water was always cold to the touch thanks to the trickling of melting snow and the fact that the sun’s rays were bleak here. His mind is on his thirst but he spots something out of place. A shape, a gray lump curled on the ground out in the open. He slows his pace, considering for a moment. Who was this? Extending his muzzle he inhales deeply and a flash of recognition flickers in his red eyes. A mare.

    Slowly he makes his way towards her, trying to muffle the sound of his hooves on the rocky slopes. Once he hits the dirt he moves more efficiently and is soon standing directly before her, looking down on her sleeping form. A pretty little thing, exhausted by the look of it. Lifting his gaze, he looks around the land once more. It seems it’s just them. An idea takes hold of him then, knowing this was technically not a bachelor’s paradise. It was meant for herd life. Now wouldn’t he just be great at that? A little harem of his own, ladies under his control at all times that he could force to his will. He could use them to his advantage for the Chamber too and the offspring he could get out of them could also be of service to the Chamber. His own little army. The thought is quite pleasing. All he needs is one mare to start it off, to make this place his very own. It seems she’s been left here as a gift, knowing his need. Perhaps a gift from the Chamber itself, wanting to provide it’s loyal subject with the tools he needs. Or maybe Straia had done this. Either way, he wasn’t about to let the mare slip through his fingers. Lowering his muzzle, he leaves a soft caress along her back. She smells of lilacs and honeysuckle and all things good. How he hates that. A sharp nip is placed roughly on her shoulder following his soft touch. ”Wake up.” He growls, voice low and predatory. ”Looks like you got lost but you won’t be leaving anytime soon.”


    G R Y F F E N
    *********the big bad wolf

    #3

     
    She was dreaming before she realized she was sleeping. A soft touch, a gentle kiss on her brow. There was a voice, crooning indistinguishable words. The kind of love babble a mother speaks to her child. The cadence sounded familiar and ethereal all at once. The confusion, the pain of not fully remembering was like an ache in her heart.
    Maman?
    Did she speak the words or hear them? Were they only in her mind? Dread filled her dream, daring her to look. Hissing, whispering in her ears. Control was wrested from her, and a thousand needle hands forced her gaze up in time to see the indistinct nightmarish face of a half eaten mare grow fangs and pounce. Pain blossoms in her shoulder.

    She is startled awake by her dream taking flesh. The mare is gone, but the pain from its bite remains. A startled whinny escapes from her mouth. Her long lashed eyes widen as the last of her sleep is brushed away and a white stallion appears before her. She does not scream, but freezes, like a rabbit in the hunter's sights.

    Fear is her first instinct. A shiver runs up her spine and she realizes the touch of this unknown still lingers on her skin. His words are a growl, turning the mare's stomach. If she had eaten recently, her meal would be roiling as her anxiety grows.

    Stand up, she scolds herself. She won't meet her destruction on her belly. There is pride here, just a bit. She does not know where it comes from, but she can feel it, deeper than the fear in her body.

    Her muscles aching from her run, Minette staggers to her feet, graceless. A spark of fire flashes through her eyes, and she meets the unnaturally crimson eyes of the one who woke her.

    "Why not?," she replies, after a shaky pause. Her words come out soft but build to a stronger tone. "I don't need to trouble you for long, sir. I only stopped to rest. I can-I mean, I will be gone from here as soon as my strength returns. I-I am sorry I intruded."

    She has misunderstood him, and in her heart she fears the truth, but her maman raised her polite and she cannot default to anything less.



    #4


    He can see the fear in her eyes, in her body language. The way she tenses, frozen in a moment of indecision. Yes, what to do little bird what to do? She is a beautiful specimen, a butterfly. He would not allow her to escape. It would be impossible to keep her in a net or a cage, as he had matters to attend to that meant he can’t be here twenty four seven. If only he could just rip her wings off, she couldn’t get away then. Clumsily she finds her feet and he cant help but give a harsh guffaw of amusement. Humoring, the way she fumbles before him as if she’s a child and not a full grown mare.

    ”I think you misheard me.” He revels in her anxiety, the shakiness in her voice betraying her false bravado. She is tired, he can see it in the lines of her face. The way she holds herself. If she tries to run it will be easy to catch her. A slow smile lingers on his lips but the warmth never finds his eyes. Those red eyes burn into hers as he snakes closer to her, closing the gap she had tried to create. Yellowed teeth grazing her clean fur along her neck, so tantalizingly, so pure. Untouched. So unlike himself with his stained and scarred body, the dirty tendrils of his unkempt mane. ”You think you can just show up on my doorstep and tease me the way you do?” He mumbles into her mane, tugging it sharply as he rubs against her. Forcefully pushing his body into hers. ”Oh no, you’ll be staying.” Another grin, his intent laid bare for her. ”You’re mine now.”


    G R Y F F E N
    *********the big bad wolf

    #5

     
    Minette has been sheltered. She doesn't remember it but the only males in her life have been gentlemen. Still, she has the feeling that her captor is not behaving as he should. 

    "Teasing you-? I don't-" The words tumble from her mouth, shaking.

    The stench of him, of sweat and adrenaline and something more, something unknown, permeates her senses. She can feel the remnant of his touch as if it were the sting of a hornet, itching and throbbing. Her mane aches where he has yanked it, but the physical pain is nothing compared to the shiver of fear as he claims her as his own. He isn't much bigger than she is, but his presence engulfs her own.

    She straightens, tossing her head, and forcing down the animalistic part of her brain that wants to run. She is intelligent, and she knows how the situation stands. Her exhausted legs would take her no further than the borders of this land if she were unhindered, and she doubts that this stallion is going to let her make it that far. He would only catch her, and she doesn't want to know what his response to that would be. The tired mare has the feeling he is toying with her, almost as if he is hunting.

    He won't always be here, she thinks. He has to sleep, or guard his land eventually.

    The thought strengthens her enough that she lets out an indignant whinny and snaps at the air. It's a small act of rebellion but she holds on to it fiercely. She may be his, but she isn't broken yet.

    "And what do I call you, sir?" she replies, low but steady, "Or am I to ring for Hades if I want you?"

    Her cream and gray form holds fast. She does not want him to touch her again, but Minette is learning. If she shies away, he will only follow, and the feeling of prey is an uncomfortable one. Instead, Minette holds herself gracefully, like the delicate butterfly she is.


    #6


    He’s not stupid, he can see the way her mind is turning. The way she snaps at the air as if she had some sort of hope to hold on to. He’s about to take that hope away. ”I know what you're thinking.” His voice quiet as he prowls around her. Stopping before gesturing towards the trees. If she looks through the pine needles, she will see a raven. And then another. And another. In the broken limbs, the trunks that have been decimated by fire, she will see them more clearly. ”You see I belong to the Chamber and my Queen has an affinity for those black birds. They are always watching. Watching me. Watching you.” A sadistic grin on his face as he turns back to her. ”So if you run, they will follow. And I will hunt you down. It won’t be pretty.“

    A soft laugh follows at her question but it lacks warmth or amusement. ”You can call me Gryffen.” He begins to pluck at her mane again, pulling out strands one by one. ”And what shall I call you?” He muses aloud, red eyes never wavering from her face.


    G R Y F F E N
    *********the big bad wolf

    #7

     
    He prowls around her in a circle, reminding Minette of a coyote pup that once did the same to her when she was but a filly. They were young and playing at the relationship of prey and predator, she shying with fear and the pup dodging clumsily. But the way Gryffen moves it is clear he is deadly serious. His gesture towards the trees pulls her eyes away form his white form and into the eyes of half a dozen large black birds.

    Doubt clouds her eyes, her last effort to war against the casual way he kills her hope.

    "The birds are watching? I don't-" Her protest dies as the caw of a raven echoes in her ears. Even at this distance she can see their intent poise, their eyes filled with an intelligence she is unaccustomed to in other creatures. Would these birds truly lead this stallion to her? Her shoulders tense. "Doesn't your queen care that you are holding me captive against my will? How can she let you do such a thing?"

    She is reluctant to give him her name, to hear the way his mouth abuses the syllables. She hesitates for a long moment, but politeness wins out.
    "I am called Minette."

    She shakes her head, tossing her mane and trying to free him from his task of pulling out the strands of pale hair. She stumbles a bit and presses into him, her body shying at the heat of him.



    #8


    Another laugh, this time actually amused by her stupidity. ”You’re not from these parts are you?” Red eyes roll but he answers her question none the less. ”My Queen rules a kingdom where she encourages such things. And she likes to keep me happy.” Which isn’t far from the truth. He was far from a favored child but Straia liked to keep her subjects happy, the ones that she found useful that is. ”I don’t need to lie to you. Try it and find it.” The glint in his eyes almost encourage her to do just that, he would quite enjoy hunting her down and dragging her back. Knocking her down peg by peg.

    ”Minette.. Well aren’t you just fancy.” He lets her name fall like a rock, as if it’s disgusting and he can’t bother with it. Her effort to untangle him from her mane backfires as she stumbles into his side and he presses himself quickly back into her, his neck hooking over the top of hers in a dominant stance. From afar they may look like consenting lovers. The truth is much more disturbing.”I think you rather like me little minnow. And with fall right around the corner… Such timing you have.” His words are thick with a promise that he is sure will chill her to the bone. She is his. And he will claim her in every way he can.


    G R Y F F E N
    *********the big bad wolf

    #9


    Minette snorts indignantly as the stallion chuckles, although she says nothing, an unknown fear of what this volatile predator will do forcing her mouth shut. She doesn't quite believe that his Queen encourages such things because at heart Minette believes in the faint hope of her escape. She has to. Accepting otherwise would crush her. 

    Maybe if I can just find her… tell her what he does to those weaker than him.

    She has yet to realize that further torture may come. Her whole life she has been the treasured, pampered pet of her family. And though she cannot fully remember the details, she knows that she has never been treated like this. No stallion has ever even touched her before; of this she is certain.

    Pride opens her mouth.

    "I am not your minnow, sir. And you are mistaken if you think I like you any more than a rat likes a snake."

    And yet, Gryffen's patient chiseling is causing cracks in her delicate form. Minette's skin recoils as he suddenly dominates her, the weight of his muscular neck pushing her down, forcing her to accept his farcical embrace. The heat of him in this cold place is unsettling. The pale gray mare doesn't know what is coming, with fall so near, but an ancient instinct rears up in her chest and she panics.

    Her head whips around, aiming with her blunt teeth to draw blood on his unprotected chest. Minette feels a moment's release of his touch and bolts towards the trees. The wrong way to go, if she had known. A rush of adrenaline pumps through her body. She is moments away from exhaustion slowing her down once again, but for a brief moment she has the hope of escape.




    ooc: I played Gryffen a bit there, but I thought he'd enjoy the hunt. Feel free to do what you will. Permanent maiming, just let me know. (i feel so meeeean. poor minette. :p)
    #10


    He doesn’t need to validate anything, doesn't need to make her believe him. He could tell her how he had kidnapped a mare from the Field, recently, just to use as a test subject for one of his other new playthings. Except this plaything was more like a weapon, a tool for chaos. He had stolen a mare just to watch her die. And his Queen stood by his side and watched as well. But he doesn’t say a word. She will learn.

    There is a sudden rake of pain across his chest and as she bolts, he looks down at the beading lines of blood that gather where she bit him. He considers the torn flesh, the stark contrast of red against his white skin. And he can’t help but start to laugh, a harsh sound that rings in the air. Following her as she runs. The ravens had already taken flight, circling above her as she flees. And then he moves.

    She doesn’t know this land, but he does. His hooves strike against cold stone, the path she had picked leading her through trees towards the base of one of the mountains. There was only one way out, back the way she came. But now he was there, blocking her escape. The ghost’s face is unreadable as the ravens scream above them, feathers falling in their excitement. His eyes though are of the darkest blood red, adrenaline pumping through his veins and his thoughts focused on only one thing.

    With a sharp whistle he is upon her, forcing her to his every whim. Too pumped to care if she fought back, knowing her exhaustion would play into his hands. He takes her as his own. His teeth pull viciously at her mane, biting at any exposed flesh he can find. And when he is through with her, he leaves one last parting shot. Coming up to her left side, he acts as if he was to caress her cheek but instead he snaps towards her eye as if he were to pluck it out of the socket. And then he leaves her panting in the dirt but not without saying. ”Little minnow, no more swimming for you.”


    G R Y F F E N
    *********the big bad wolf


    (Sorry if that was icky, I didn't want to keep you waiting. Also I left it open to however you wanted her maimed or what not including the eye thing. So you can play it out however you like!)




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