✗ control [Cherokee]

[Harlot]

Each step that she took brought the willow-framed femme deeper within the caverns that she had stumbled upon that morning. The sound of her nails clicking faintly against the stone echoed around her, and while another wolf might have been intimidated by the winding tunnels and enclosed space, Harlot found that she quite liked the solidity. Her sapphire orbs granted her the ability to see just enough, her gait slow and almost sultry despite the fact that no one could see the sway of her hips, the smooth roll of her shoulders, or the coy tilt to her head. It was natural for her now, almost second nature; Harlot had learned long ago the miracles that the female body could work upon the delicate male brain.

Her ears pricked high atop her skull as the sound of trickling water reached her from a considerable distance. She’d wondered where these winding halls of stone lead, and it seemed that at least one feasible location was to water. Still she did not hurry, taking her time even when a pale blue glow surrounded her. At last the Huntress found that the walls were sloping upwards and out, smoothing transitioning into a sprawling cavern. She paused for a moment, drinking in the sight of the nearly luminescent water, a ray of light falling from somewhere high above. With a breathy laugh she moved forward, dipping first one paw and then another into the water, pleased to find it cool. She was unsure of how deep it was, feeling with her paws that the rock sloped steadily downwards, but still the femme could not resist. With a push of her hind legs she was airborne, and a moment later the clear water cradled her, making her feel light as a feather as she kicked for the surface. Sucking in a deep breathe, Harlot paddled a swift lap around the large pool before dragging herself out with some effort, laying herself out to dry just beneath the ray of light.

Her fur was slick and smoothed against her svelte frame now, although she knew it would soon dry. She had been accepted into Airila not very long ago, and while she had not yet met her pack mates, she’d opted for exploring today instead. And a good thing, she thought, laying her delicate muzzle upon her paws. For if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have found this glorious place.

WORDS: 403

NOTES: ~
TAG: Cherokee

[Cherokee]

Cherokee found it more and more difficult to be open towards the rest of her new found family. Although she had attended the pack meeting she had still felt like she stuck out like a sore thumb- perhaps it was because she wasn't the best when communicating with others, at least not yet. Truthfully she felt it to be emotionally exhausting when it came to dealing with the others and knowing how to respond effectively to their emotions and actions. No today Cherokee wanted some solitude. And so she began her trek towards the only place that she knew would provide her with solitude. The caves had been the first place she had entered in Airila territory, unknowingly then but now it had become one of her favorite places. For some reasons the others did not trek here and although she had spent the entirety of her life held up in a cave she still found comfort there. She was accustomed to the walls surrounding her like a blanket of comfort- and she needed that right now. The stress was overwhelming and she just needed a little breathing room. She would return back to the pack with a big ol happy face after she decompressed for a bit. Her talons clicked delicately against the cool cave floor, her golden brown occuli scanning the shimmering cave walls as she walked. Cherokee had a fairly petite form, her coat pure ivory aside from the unique marking that graced her muzzle. It was what had made her unique in her natal pack, though she had never known it. Her parents had hid her for that specific reason, but Cherokee had never cared. She wanted to be free and part of that was running away from her past. This was her future and she liked to think of herself as normal as possible. The only thing she could think of was the crystalline pool of water within these very caverns- to go for a dip would be extraordinary.

As she continued trailing through the paths she heard splashing up ahead. She halted for a moment, her nostrils flaring gently as she inhaled the air around her. The smell of stalagmites was strong in the air, but with that was an unfamiliar scent. Female, but unfamiliar. The hackles on the back of her neck rose slightly, what if this was an intruder? Cherokee had never encountered an intruder before, hell she didn't even know to react in that kind of a situation. She was no warrior of any kind and she certainly wouldn't be able to squash someone like Arche could. Instantly an image of the strong brute flashed in her mind- if only she could borrow his strength and expertise for a few moments. She shook her head, she could pretend for a bit couldn't she? She immediately took a few bold steps forward, her petite skull raised high. She could be tough couldn't she? Of course you can. This is all a part of your new beginning, duh.. She smirked to herself for a moment before allowing her face to become a blank slate. She sauntered forward until she was standing only a few inches from the water. Her golden eyes stared across the distance of the pool to the stranger that lay on the other side of the bank. Definitely female, perhaps larger then herself. But she wasn't intimidated, she refused to be intimidated. Oh.. Who might you be? She feigned surprise as she pulled her haunches beneath her, watching the female with a slightly curious gaze. Cherokee knew she was in no real danger at the moment considering the stranger would have to fly across the water before she could do anything to her. I..Am Cherokee. She spoke boldly as she waited for a response, and even though the silence dragged on she knew that this female would respond. And oddly enough Cherokee wasn't afraid of her, in fact she was intrigued of her.

---

notes:: here ya go babe
tagged:: Harlot
word count:: 691
status:: complete.

[Harlot]

The gentle thudding of paws upon stone drew Harlot’s attention, her ears twitching curiously atop her skull – though she did not bother to lift her head. She felt secure here in the knowledge that whoever approached was more than likely a member of Airila, and if not, there was a certain strapping young alpha who’d certainly be dismayed to hear of an intruder causing harm to his packmates. Closer and closer the being drew, seemingly moving at a leisurely pace, until at last Harlot was greeted with a flash of ivory across the cavern. The wolf who stepped into sight was slender and small, perhaps a tad bit larger than Harlot herself, and female; the scent drifted slowly but surely across the pool until Harlot was certain of this.

Still, the svelte femme did not lift her head as the eyes of the stranger found where she laid against the far wall. ”Oh.. Who might you be?” The voice of the she-wolf drifted across the space as she primly lowered herself to the ground, seeming comfortable enough as she spoke once more a moment later. ”I..Am Cherokee.” And so she was a stranger no more, although Harlot had yet to offer her own appellation.

With one fluid movement she lifted her head and tilted it just slightly to one side, sapphire gaze flitting across Cherokee’s form. Then, finally, Harlot broke the brief silence that had followed the ivory femme’s inquiries. ”I,” the she-wolf began, her voice a smooth, confident drawl - very nearly like a purr, ”am Harlot. Arche welcomed me as Airila’s newest huntress not very long ago.” Speaking of the jade-eyed brute made Harlot’s lips twitch upwards just slightly; she had yet to encounter the male again after their first meeting, but she still remembered the way he’d seemed entranced by her. She would soon seek him out again, in due time.

Now, however, it was Cherokee who Harlot was focused upon. She gathered herself into a sitting position, curling her tail daintily around her delicate paws, one hip jutted just slightly out to the side. ”I am assuming that you are a member of Airila, as well; I doubt you’d go snooping around if you were an intruder. What position do you hold?” She had been able to choose place as huntress, but she was not sure it this was the case with everyone. If so, it would be interesting to see what Cherokee had decided upon. She seemed just as slender and small as Harlot herself was, although that meant little; Harlot had chosen huntress, and it was a possibility that Cherokee was one of her fellow hunters. Harlot had not yet been able to meet her packmates; it was something she supposed she should be more concerned with, but she had never been one for social calls or idle prattle. Regardless, acquainting herself with them was an inevitable part of pack life, so she remained settled against the smooth wall of the cave, content to start with Cherokee.

TAG: Cherokee
WORDS: 503
NOTES: <3

[Cherokee]

She was comfortable in the caverns as this was the place where her journey had first begun, but she couldn't help but be wary of the stranger before her. Cherokee was still fairly new when it came to interacting with others and was just getting a handle on how to react appropriately to others. This other female however seemed completely unbothered by her presence. Cherokee didn't feel irritated by this however and was more so curious as to why the female seemed so..uncaring. Cherokee would have expected some type of curiosity from her, but so far she saw nothing except disinterest. Finally however their gazes locked across the distance of the pool. Their eyes seeming to clash as they locked, meanwhile Cherokee's auds perked ever so slightly as the stranger finally spoke. I, am Harlot. Arche welcomed me as Airila’s newest huntress not very long ago. An invisible brow arched above her golden hued emeralds, her heart thudding aggressively in her chest. What was this feeling that she was experiencing? Jealousy. Her conscious reminded her and she rolled her shoulders gently. She hardly doubted that she was jealous she didn't even think that she could feel a certain way about another wolf. Sure Arche was attractive and she had felt some type of weird carnal desire but that was as far as it went...right? She turned her gaze back to Harlot's blue eyes, a gleam of curiosity shining in her orbs as she listened to the female continue on with her sentence. I am assuming that you are a member of Airila, as well; I doubt you’d go snooping around if you were an intruder. What position do you hold? Cherokee couldn't help but smirk at the female, her eyes gleaming with humor. I'm not the snooping type, but yes I am a member, a new one just like yourself.

Her vocal chords held the tiniest hint of humor there as she watched Harlot, waiting for a reaction from the female. When she still did not shift her position Cherokee decided to finally offer a response to her original question. I was given the position of gatherer. I'm still new to all of this. She admitted as she glanced upward, her eyes locking with Harlot's once more. So your a huntress. Are you any good at it? She did not intend to sound rude when she asked the question she was just genuinely curious to find out more about the female in front of her. This was quite possibly the first "friend" that she would have in the pack other than Rikez and she needed to put herself out there more. Perhaps if Harlot was an impressive huntress Cherokee would be able to learn a few tips from her. Like I said I'm new to this whole pack thing in general.. She found that she was beginning to babble the longer the silence stretched in between them and finally decided to just stop talking in general. Her tail wrapped around her paws and she couldn't help but glance down at the water. If wolves could blush her cheeks would be bright pink with embarrassment. Cherokee couldn't help but feel foolish- this was her first opportunity to really bond with another wolf in her pack and she was fumbling all over the place like some kind of loser. Just zip it. Her conscious snapped and Cherokee decidedly kept her lips sealed until Harlot would address her again.

---

notes:: She feels like such a loser lol
tagged:: Harlot
muse:: medium
word count:: 736
status:: complete.

[Harlot]

At last, Harlot had her answer in the form of a confirmation: Cherokee was a fellow member of Airila. Well, it was what she’d expected, after all. This was the first pack-mate that Harlot had encountered outside of Arche, though she’d spotted a few dashing males in passing, and something about the realization made her sigh. She had to remember that she was a part of something now; she could not sneer and preen (well, not much preening, anyways) as she normally would. She would not change her nature for Airila – she had told even Arche as much – but Harlot supposed it would not kill her to try and get along with others.

And so, when Cherokee revealed that she was a gatherer and asked about Harlot’s skills as a hunteress, the darker femme laughed, the sound silken and smooth. ”Of course I am,” she replied with just a hint of her usual candor and arrogance – but a hint for Harlot was a whole heaping dash for others. She simply could not help it; she was not used to being humble. She’d loved her sister dearly, but the two had always enjoyed a healthy dose of competition to pass the time. It was something that Harlot had never left behind.

”Like I said I'm new to this whole pack thing in general.”

While Cherokee had previously been the picture of confidence and ease, it was fraying quickly beneath Harlot’s critical gaze. The fae picked herself up silently, taking a moment to shake the dirt from her dark brown pelt before trotting around the perimeter of the pool, coming to a halt just before Cherokee. She did not sit, instead cocking her head and letting her eyes roam quite blatantly over Cherokee’s frame. ”Pretty enough,” she remarked, which was a monumental compliment coming from Harlot’s maw. ”I liked you better earlier, when you were irritatingly confident. It makes others respect you – especially in a pack setting.” When was the last time that Harlot had given someone advice? Surely it had to have been years ago, when she and her sister grew together. It was an unsettling thought, although she was not entirely sure why.

As last Harlot lowered herself to her haunches, curling her tail around her small paws so that she was mirroring Cherokee’s own position. The two were much closer now, and so Harlot lowered her voice a fraction, although it still rang with surety. ”You say that you are new to pack life…were you a loner, before?” Some wolves were born to rogue parents, spending their lives wandering the earth, never settling down. Others were born into busy and boisterous packs, vying for a place to call their own. Harlot had been somewhere in-between, though she’d never been sure if that had posed an advantage or not. After her question had fallen from her muzzle she remained silent, glistening sapphire orbs trained upon the small femme who sat before her, awaiting her answer but pretending as if she were not, her expression one of slight interest.

TAG: Cherokee
WORDS: 542
NOTES: <3 

[Cherokee]

Confidence oozed off of Harlot like pus from an open wound. It radiated from her body in waves; it was so loud that even someone such as Cherokee was able to pick up on it. The young female had never been good with reading body language but her body language was screaming loud enough for her to recognize it clearly. Of course I am. She said with what sounded like cockiness and Cherokee couldn't help but flick her auds back for a second out of slight distaste. BUT she didn't let it bother her long because she herself could see being just as confident whenever she would hone her skills when it came to gathering. She still wasn't quite sure what a gatherer did in a pack per say but she was sure that she would figure it out eventually. Her golden occuli watched as Harlot rose and trotted around the perimeter of the pool until she was standing before her. Her scrutinizing gaze was wracking over her frame and making her feel even more irritable and twice as uncomfortable. She had never been scrutinized like this before- not even when Arche welcomed her into Airila. I liked you better earlier, when you were irritatingly confident. It makes others respect you – especially in a pack setting. She turned her gaze to lock eyes with the female before snapping in response, Well I liked you better earlier when you weren't glaring at me. And with that she sent a heated glare towards Harlot before her expression turned neutral once again, as if it had never happened in the first place. Just like that Harlot was sitting beside her then, her body mirroring her own as she sat with her tail curled around her front paws. Cherokee found that it was a very comforting position, plus it kept her toes warm. She was glad that she had adopted the stance as it was a good one to consider in the colder weather. You say that you are new to pack life…were you a loner, before?

Cherokee could hear the slight tones of interest in the females voice but she was still reluctant to speak. Better hurry before she loses interest. Her conscious snapped and Cherokee found that she was struggling to find the words. She wasn't really sure what she could have been considered before. She knew that her parents were a part of a pack but she herself was not. I guess I wasn't really a loner. My parents were a part of a pack but I wasn't.. They kept me from the pack because I guess they had broken some rules. It was the most knowledge that she had when it came to her upbringing and she didn't necessarily like to question it. She could only be thankful that she had made it this far without them finding her. She had managed to put a decent amount of space between herself and her parents and she still didn't know if they would end up coming to look for her. But Cherokee could careless if they did anyway- she was an adult now and she would do whatever she wanted. Well..what about you? You seem like you've been around others..never. Her vocals were blunt but there was a hint of humor in her words. She was hoping she wouldn't take her words too literally but she found even though Harlot had originally prodded at her she was actually enjoying her presence. They seemed to be very similar and if Harlot could become a potential ally for herself she definitely wouldn't miss out on bonding with her.

---

notes: I love how she's being feisty with her haha
tagged: Harlot
word count: 648
status: complete.

[Harlot]

”Well I liked you better earlier when you weren't glaring at me.”

Harlot laughed, the light sound echoing across the water, seeming to bounce across the stone walls. ”Finally. It seems as if you have a touch of fire in you,” she said, her laughter fading but her smirk staying firmly planted upon her muzzle. It seemed as if she had not offended Cherokee too gravely, for the cream-hued femme remained seated beside Harlot, who set about grooming herself, stretching her neck out languidly to reach the fur of her shoulder. Cherokee began to speak once more, answering Harlot’s previous inquiries, and the dark fae paused, sapphire orbs flicking upwards. Her parents had hidden her? How queer, Harlot, whose own parents had been endlessly proud of their children to the point of showing off, thought. But she supposed they had their reasoning, as Cherokee had said.

”Well..what about you? You seem like you've been around others..never.”

”Oh, don’t take it personally,” Harlot sniffed with a shrug of one delicate shoulder. ”I’m like this with everyone.” And she was; she’d never been apologetic regarding her nature. It simply was not how Harlot was. ”I haven’t had a pack before Airila, but I suppose my family was large enough. There was my parents, my two brothers, and two sisters. Never could get a quiet moment,” she grumbled, though she did often times miss her family and think back on her time spent with them, hoping that they were well. ”Never a dull moment.”

A brief silence fell, and then Harlot’s sharp gaze slid sharply to Cherokee once more, her lips turning up mischievously at the corners. ”So. You’ve been here longer than I have. How do you like it?” She paused to gather the rest of her thoughts before pressing on. ”Anyone I should avoid? Or…anyone I shouldn’t? Devilishly handsome brutes fall in that last category, in case you were wondering.” Her grin was spreading across her muzzle now, and she couldn’t refrain from adding, ”If you’re as pure and virtuous as you look then perhaps you haven’t batted those big brown eyes at any males yet…but I think not. Surely there’s someone you’ve noticed?”

Knowledge was one of Harlot’s greatest allies; the more she knew, then the greater chance she had of thriving in Airila, and it seemed as if Cherokee might be someone who could eventually confide in her. Harlot was not the finicky, gossipy type; she would not run around telling everyone what someone else told her. Instead she cherished information, holding it close to her for later use.

TAG: Cherokee
WORDS: 430
NOTES: Sorry it's short =( I was writing this at school and ran out of time!