The Oppressive Heat (ARCHIVE)

[Roka]

The time in this new land seemed to be passing faster than Roka could keep up. The weather was still cold enough to suit her, but Roka could almost feel the change in season on the wind. Her tundra had been cold enough that the difference in seasons was minute, going from cold to freezing and back to cold. She doubted the same was true of this place. It was barely cold enough for the snow to stick to the ground, yet this was as far north as this continent seemed to go. To damn hot here. Where the hell am I? The breeze was colder than anything else, keeping to the snow frozen, working against the sun. At full noon the sun was warm enough to make Roka uncomfortable to say the least. This climate was causing her to shed, and fast. Her once gloriously long winter coat was being replaced by a summer coat, one that she had never seen before. Her skin itched as it freed her fur causing her to scratch out large tufts of it at a time. Her hair litter the ground on the path she had taken, making a trail that led straight to her. She was sad to see her coat go, but at the same time she was happy for the coolness it brought with it. She was skinnier than she would have liked underneath her thick coat, but the abundance of prey in this area was a blessing. Still skinny. Too skinny. She didn't have to search too hard for her next meal, and it made the process of getting healthy again almost easy. She had come a long way since she had been shipwrecked on the shores of Anikira.

The estrangement at sea had caused her emaciated state, but the prey here was rich and hearty, teeming with nutrients. The prey in her precious Russian tundra had been scarce and thin at that, yet she had survived remarkably well. She was almost surprised that there were less predators in the area. Predators typically had an uncanny ability to sense an easy meal, but for the most part she had not seen any others of her kind. No cats either. Damn cats. Glad to be rid of the damn things. Sneaky, poaching bastards. She growled in frustration thinking about the creature that had scarred her face, and taken her sight. He had been a large brute, creeping up on her until he was close enough for her to smell. She had whirled around not even realizing how close he had been. His claws had torn her eye to shreds before she had the chance to fight. Nothing frustrated her more than the fact that he had taken so much from her, and she had never gotten the chance to hurt him. He had maimed her, eaten her meal, and then left her to die. She would have died, if the humans hadn't come to save her. They didn't normally trek into the tundra, but they had been tracking to cat for killing a child outside of Noril'sk. If they hadn't pulled her from the wild and nursed her back to health she would have ended up a carcass, frozen in the snow. That is how I ended up on the damn boat in the first place.

Roka pulled herself from her musings walking further along, leaving a large pile of hair behind her. It was the breeding season. She could feel the familiar pull of her heat, as it began to mount within her. She had never given in to the instincts to mate, but it got harder and harder to resist as time went on. She was in the prime of her life, yet she still resisted the prospect of motherhood. Her scar helped with keeping the males at bay, most were daunted by her large scar. Plus she hadn't encountered a male that would make her proud to carry his pups in the first place. Roka was a strong female of strong blood, and she would take nothing less of any brute who wanted to breed her. She did enjoy pups, but most of the time they were so damn curious and playful, she could only handle them in small doses. But those encounters had been few. She could feel the tension in the air, almost smell the desperation. It was the same every heat cycle. The females in a desperate scramble to breed and produce pups, and the males needing to soothe their aching nether regions. She was glad that she hadn't met with many wolves in this area, male or female. Her heat caused her to become aggressive and territorial, more so than normal. She did prefer her own company to that of others, but at the same time she didn't want to be fighting with anyone for no reason more absurd than hormones. She whined slightly wanting this heat to be over, it made rational wolves to irrational things.

Her blood was hot, and her mind cloudy as she continued on as if by instinct. She had always been a primal wolf, but the prospect of breeding made her almost feral. She began to pace to and fro, wearing the grass down in her trek. She needed to get past the worst of the heat and return to her usual self. She would need her head if she wanted to set herself up here. he needed to find herself a den and a patch of this meadow that she could claim as her own until it was time to move again. The constant shuffle and reshuffle of a loner. Moving there and back again. The only part of being in a pack she missed was the solidarity that it brought. Then again she did enjoy walking. It cleared her head, which was essential when you were as hot tempered as Roka. I need to walk this off, need to keep my head. Damn heat gets me worked up twice a year. I just want it to end.

[Deleted]

Slowly, little by little, day after day, the weather grew slightly warmer and warmer letting all the creatures on and around Anikira know that while winter was definitely not yet over, it would not be too much longer before the beautiful spring arrived. Though Xion had a thick dark black coat that soaked in the sun’s rays making it easier for her to get hot quicker than more light colored wolves, she most certainly did not hate spring or summer. For with spring came litter after litter of baby animals which meant easy kills to satisfy her strong blood lust. With both spring and summer came thick and dense brush that offered valuable hiding places that the winter and half of the fall did not offer. In terms of the heat, it was her least favorite season but that was the only thing she hated about it. Everything else helped make it easier for her to kill and torment.

As she walked through the hills, her mind was on the dark brute named Zitao. It had only been a few days since their last encounter and still she could not stop smirking at the thoughts that ran rampant through her twisted mind. She was his without a doubt; she had been his since he stood up to her during their first encounter. She would continue to be his for as long as she lived and yet, he still tried to deny the fact that he was hers. They belonged to each other even if she willingly gave him the power to break her down as he so pleased and build her back up. She was a toy like the white she wolf, Anima, was his pet but the difference was that she was much, much more than a just a toy. She would be his mate, she knew it now and she could not wait for him to stop denying it.

Suddenly she snapped out of her thoughts but it was neither a sight, nor scent, nor even sound that had pulled her back to reality. Instead, it was the soft texture of a pile of hair beneath her dark paw. She tilted her head curiously at it as she wandered why it was there. It was unlike wolves, at least those native to the island or the surrounding lands to shed this early and yet it appeared to be from her own kind. That left the possibility of one, a sick wolf, two, an injured wolf, or three a wolf who was completely new to the island. Any of the above would work out in her favor as they would all give her the upper hand and she couldn’t but snarl as her eyes grew dark, gladly giving into the blood lust that had been knowing away at the back of her mind.

She lowered her head to the pile of loose fur and took in the scent. It belonged to a female, which meant it would be at least a little easy for her to get what she wanted. Once she had the scent, she walked on, following it closely. “I’m coming for you,” she chuckled darkly to herself. Already she was dying to taste the crimson red blood from this wolf on her pearly white fangs as she heard the petty whimpers and begs for mercy that would come spilling out of her gasping muzzle. Oh this she wolf, whoever she was, was in for a treat and maybe, Xion thought to herself, I’ll play nice and kill her, put her out of her glorious suffering. But then again…a little, or a lot, of suffering is a small price to pay to quench the lust running through wolves like Zitao and I. For she should be glad to have been chosen by such powerful creatures.

Step by quiet step she made her ever closer to the unsuspecting females, her lips never leaving the form of a silent snarl as her orange eyes danced with hellish excitement. Her eyes scanned the area searching high and low for any spot the feme could be hiding. However, to her surprise, she wasn’t hiding at all. She was pacing back and forth in the wide open and all around was little tuffs of hair. Xion sat down behind a tree and watched her silently, careful as to not alert her of her presence. It amused the dark she wolf to see her so…agitated and to know that her fun had not yet even begun. She would be a fun wolf torment that was for sure.

As she sat and watched the wolf, she pondered the many ways in which their first meeting could go down. She could be civil and walk right up to her with a simple hello but she immediately turned up her nose in disgust to the idea. There was no fun in being civil and it would bring to her the taste of her blood that she so desired. She could leap out from behind her hiding spot and prance on her like she was her prey but that would bring the end too quick and that wouldn’t be too much fun either, though better than her first idea. She needed a medium, a way to spark up a conversation and get to the end she wanted without going to slow or top fast.

As impatience started to eat away, she crept slowly out from the tree, careful not to instantly give away the fact that she was there. Once only a few feet she spoke, “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that a lone female should never leave herself vulnerable in a place as open as this?” she growled as she began to circle around the female. “It’s a pity really, that such a pretty form such as you has to be so foolish but I guess it can’t be that bad since it just makes it better for me.” Her eyes scanned over the other wolf and a smug smirk crossed her face as she noticed a peculiar scar. It ran right over her eye and it was clear to tell by how bad it was that she either had no eye sight or very poor eye sight in that eye. Already Xion found one of her weaknesses.

She continued to circle her but she purposely moved slower every time she rounded the side of her bad eye. “Really, you should be glad that I am the one that found you for while there are no wolves around to hear your glorious cries for mercy, I can promise you that I, unlike other predators, will not kill you. No, that would be far too easy for you and too merciful for me. I will let you live and rather you die or not depends on how strong or pathetic you are.” She snarled as she took in her scent deeply, closing her eyes for a second. Oh how she wanted to make her cry out and beg, only to refuse any mercy at all. Her blood would taste so good sliding down her parched throat. The thought alone was enough to nearly make her purr in delight.
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[Roka]

Roka couldn't find any relief from her itching fur, the more she scratched the more fur fell out. At this rate she would have her full summer coat in the next few days. Her summer coat was a short coarse set of fur that was darker grey than she liked. She didn't take much pride in her appearance, especially not after her scar, but she still preferred her plush winter coat. It was light and dense helping her through the coldest winters in her beloved tundra. If I don't get this itching to stop I will have to scratch till I bleed. She continued on her parade, pacing round and round, watching her fur begin to coat the ground. She growled in frustration stopping occasionally to scratch at the offending fur. Dead, all of her beautiful fur now dead. All because of this damn heat. She wasn't just thinking about the temperature, her own heat was rising within her. The further she delved into her prime the more insistent her urges became. Instincts and hormones were racing through her, making her more and more irritated as time went on. She pitied the next creature she came into contact with for the altercation would be horrendous. A small part of her hoped that it was a male, someone who could help rid her of the ache that had begun to spread within her. She had made it through two breeding seasons before this, but the cold of the tundra had helped her calm the heat within. Now there was heat everywhere, most especially on her brain. If she did encounter a male she knew that she would be torn between fighting and breeding. She didn't want to raise pups, not on her own, with no support to help her, but she also just wanted it all to stop. She was sensitive to every little thing around her as a tiny part of her brain began to fight against her control. Perhaps I should just seek out a male and tend to this ache. Her heat reared it's ugly head at the idea, trying to break free from it's restraints. She had never given into the primal instincts that the heat brought, and in her heart she knew that if she did surrender to those dark depths she would not like the results. The only option she had was to bear with the flood.

She had always been fond of pups, especially when she had lived in the pack. No one had paid much attention to the omega and so she had been left alone for the most part, alone to enjoy the little creatures company. She didn't mind them as much as she did adult wolves. She had even thought about having pups of her own when she was younger, when males had been interested about her, wanted her to notice them. The suitors had been so handsome, fighting to see who was the most dominant, who would claim her first. She had been so eager to leave behind her omega status, to distance herself from her father and start a family of her own. She had been so close to everything she had ever wanted, when the alpha had come to see her. She had been so ecstatic thinking that the alpha also had an interest in her. She did hold the place of omega, but she was dominant enough to excel. Instead of the romantic claiming she had been expecting, the alpha had given her two options: The first was to leave the pack. The second was for him to kill her. She had run as far and as fast as her legs could have carried her. Farther and farther into the tundra until there wasn't a trace of her left for him to follow. She had never looked back, giving up on any chance of a pack and a family. She didn't want to live in a world where her life rested in the alphas paws. On the whims of a power hungry brute interested only in the furthering of himself. She had only seen two kinds of leaders in her life, the ones who cared only about keeping their power. They surrounded themselves with strong wolves who were almost as volatile as they were. They bred like rabbits, and used females as nothing more than bitches. The second type of leader were those who wanted to be loved. They would let anyone into their pack whether they were weak or strong. They were typically over loving and didn't produce sound pups. They would let anyone breed despite bloodline. Roka herself came from a very distinguished bloodline, one that had caused her to lose everything. One that still brought a sparkle of pride into her eyes.

She might not be one of these Anikira wolves, but she came form one of the purest bloodlines in the Russian tundra. She regretted that her pups would not share her pedigree. Mixed breeds. That thought alone was enough to cool her blood. Enough to pull her from her poisonous memories. Her ears pricked at something in the distance, a plodding of footsteps. She heard the other female before she saw her, heard her almost shaking breaths. She heard the breathing of a predator. This female was stalking her, tracking her just like if she were prey. Roka bristled at the thought of being blindsided again. What is it with predators? Do I have 'prey of choice' written on my back? This wouldn't be the first time she had fought with another predator. She had heard about these kinds of wolves, others of her kind who relished in the blood. Craved the violence and the rush that hunting other predators brought. Murderers, beasts of legend. A legend she was going to face today. She hadn't fought with another wolf since she had been taken by the humans, but that didn't matter to her. She didn't fear what came next, didn't fear the all too familiar dance of wolves. She had been in plenty of fights before, but she was unsure of where she stood, missing her left eyesight. The life of a loner had taught her that life had two paths: Fight or Run. She wasn't much of a runner. She waited almost holding her breath trying to pinpoint where the other female was coming from. It was awhile before the she wolf made herself known. Like any good predator she made sure to watch her prey, to spot for signs of weakness. Roka's teeth clamped in frustration. Her eye was not something she could hide, not a weakness she could fix. She had learned to hunt and survive with her eye, but she had no idea how she would fight with it. She didn't have time to stop and listen during a battle, she would simply have to give her all and do what she did best. Survive. When the she wolf finally did speak her words were sweet like a viper meant to lure you in. She spoke of not being alone and how such a pretty wolf shouldn't be out in the open. Roka almost laughed, having to choke down the bubbling deep in her throat. She hadn't expected her predator to be so cocky, so eager to rip her open. Pretty form? She must be more blind than me, or just stupid.

The gleam in this she-wolf's eyes was downright sinister. Roka knew that this wasn't her first kill, that she had killed other wolves before. "Murderer", Roka spat the word out as if it were poison. There was nothing worse than a wolf that killed for no other reason than to kill. She watched as the she-wolf began to circle her, spending more and more time in her blind spot. Roka began to itch under the pressure, not liking the attention this wolf was giving to her blindness. She didn't want this wolf to have any advantage over her. Roka's eye moved over the female, she seemed older than Roka, not as young as the prime female, and eager. If she was too caught up in her fantasies and bloodlust that it would make her vulnerable. Roka began to snarl, her tail lifting and her fur rising. She would fight if she had to, kill if she had to, but the difference between her and the wolf opposite her was that Roka didn't need to kill. She didn't need the surge or the rush to feel alive. Didn't need to feel the blood or watch the suffering to get her kicks. Roka began to look around a little more wary. It was seldom that these kinds of wolves worked alone, the attraction between two of these junkies like magnets. The female began to talk about how she would leave Roka to die, only to enjoy her torment. Roka was not afraid of this femme. Not afraid of the pain that might come, not even afraid of death. She would fight until her last, fight to survive. "Not the first. Cat who give scar far worse.", Roka bit out not sure if the words made any sense. She would have to trust that the other wolf would understand what she meant. "Not afraid.", she growled trying her best to keep the female within her line of sight. She would be alright if she could keep this female to her right. She might think that just because Roka couldn't see her, the fight was won, but Roka could feel her. Any advance she made towards Roka's left side would not end the fight.

Roka licked her lips and champed her teeth feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline. The familiar flood of energy, and a tingling of awareness around her. If this was to be her last days on earth, then she would be sure to give up one hell of a fight.

[Deleted]

As the black she wolf watched the other pace round and round, it took every ounce of her being not to laugh at the pathetic sight in front of her. What wolf caused such a big deal over something as small as shedding that they left their guard down and allowed a wolf such as Xion to stumble upon them? The thought alone was something that made her shake her head in disgust. Xion knew from experience that shedding was, in fact, itching but it had always been something that she simply looked past. She wasn’t a crybaby like the wolf she was watching that made a mountain out a mole hill and made herself look retarded doing so. If only she could see herself through another’s eyes, Xion thought with a dark smirk.

Xion also couldn’t help but notice the strong scent the feme emitted. She was very clearly in heat and Xion again had to stop herself from chuckling. No male would ever want her if she kept acting like this. Even Zitao would turn up his nose and send her on her way, turned off by her constant whining, be it silent or audible. But then again, that was probably for the better. While the black wolf didn’t know exactly where she stood with the male at the moment, she couldn’t help but feel possessive over him and would gladly kill and torture any female who tried to take her place. The only female, or wolf in general, who was allowed to sexually please the mighty black wolf was herself and she would gladly make that known.

As the she wolf thought of her sexy knight in shining armor, or more like sly sexy devil, her own heat started to rear its head and she wished he was there at that very second to relieve her of it. Unlike most other females who preferred to mate in private, Xion couldn’t care less about who was around. Mating in public was only a way for others to know that she was his chosen one and that they would never be as good as her. She would honestly never stop him from mating, no matter the day, where they were, or who was around, if he wanted to remind her who she belonged to, she would very happily accept. As for what would come afterwards, Xion was actually excited about having puppies with him. They were bound to all be jet black with either redish orange eyes or handsome yellow ones. They’d be taught to wreak havoc and enjoy doing so just like their parents. They’d grow to be strong and mighty and would submit to no one. The idea made her shiver in excitement as she couldn’t wait for the first time Zitao truly made her his. She wanted it more than anything but just to tease her, enjoying seeing her squirm, he made her wait day after day. She would not get what she wanted until she was on the verge of breaking and even then, she would not be surprised if he made her beg.

Xion, too the disbelief of many, would never categorize herself as a serial killer. While she did enjoy killing and making pathetic creatures suffer, her reasons for doing what she did were far more complex than one could usually wrap their minds around. She had a lust, strong and powerful, and one unlike she had ever seen before. She craved, no, she needed to taste blood. Ever since the death of her father, blood alone controlled every one of her motives. It engulfed her and was what ran her mind. When she went to long without it, her mind would begin to spin and she would begin to feel as if she was going insane. She became violent, more so than usual, and her thoughts were clouded. She could not think straight and the only thing that would make her feel better again was drinking the crimson red poison that she so loved. It was not uncommon for her to chew on her paw or the tip of her tail until she bled when she couldn’t successfully find prey. When she did find a suitable creature to quench her nawing lust, she usually killed it because the easiest and most fun way to get the most of what she desired but unlike other wolves like her, she was satisfied with simply making a wound. While she may want more, her lust could be quenched with a simple swallow or two.

Xion knew the other wolf was aware she was there once she saw her ears perk and her form tense. She watched as the she wolf remained still most likely trying to figure out which direction the black wolf was coming from. She walked slow and steadily, keeping her steps quiet if not silent. Even if she had already been found out, she didn’t want to just rush up on her. She enjoyed drawing it out and watching the nerves build in the other wolf. It was so much fun. Once she made her way over to her, she couldn’t help but chuckle when the wolf clamped her teeth together. She was already getting frustrated and the fun had yet to even begin. Xion spoke sweetly and calmly, her eyes trailing over the other’s form. She was indeed a pretty wolf, it was such a shame she would soon be covered in blood.

Xion laughed when the female spat what she thought was an insult. Xion was a murder, she knew she was, but she also didn’t care. As long as she quenched her lust, she didn’t care what she did. Hearing it said did nothing but make her nod in agreement. “Smart Girl,” she said with sarcastic approval. At least, Xion thought, she knew what was coming to her. She circled her slowly, taking her in and looking for weaknesses that she could use against her. Luckily, she found exactly what she was looking for. It was clear the wolf had been attacked and that she had lost sight in one eye. That instantly gave the black the upper hand and she smirked smugly.

She moved back in front of her in time to see her fur raise along with her tail and a low warning snarl came from deep in her throat. Xion rolled her eyes in an annoyed manner before speaking. “Didn’t I tell you I wouldn’t kill you? Why must you be so harsh then?” she asked in a dead tone, one that held no emotion. If the wolf wanted a fight, she’d gladly give it to her and if she asked for it, Xion would kill her, no questions asked. That wasn’t what she wanted though. She simply wanted to toy with the emotions of this wolf, which seemed to be working, and maybe make a wound or two. If the wolf behaved, she would survive this encounter. If not, she’d simply be added to Xion’s list of pathetic creatures who are no longer wasting space on these lands.

When Xion noticed her looking around, she couldn’t help but chuckle. “Looking for an escape?” she asked as if already knowing the answer. “If you are, it is rather pointless. I know these lands like the back of my paw, unlike you, newcomer,” She said the last word as if tasted horribly. There wasn’t room on these lands for pathetic femes much less those who weren’t even native to the area. Xion’s ears perked at her next commenting, realizing how she got the scar. “Maybe I can finish what the cat started,” she commented, talking about making her lose sight in the other eye instead of just one. “It’d be much more fun for myself and any other predators you’re foolish enough to let find you,” her words were honest and you could tell by the way she spoke them. The more she was around this wolf, the more she knew she didn’t want to kill her. She wanted to have fun maiming her. “Rather you’re afraid or not is none of business, but we will have to see if I can change your opinion,” she chuckled, having complete confidence in her ability to do so.

Words : 1,379
Muse : Very Good
Tags : Roka
Notes : This is getting heated o.o

[Roka]

Roka wasn't willing to back down, even if she was being 'harsh'. If anything Xion wanted to be rough, wanted to rip Roka open and leave her bloody. Roka chuckled to herself. Rough am I? You seem to like rough so allow me to oblige. The female was expecting her to roll over onto her back and allow whatever abuse Xion deigned to mete out, what an expectation. Roka was not some weak minded pup to be scared into submission, to be violated without a thought of defense. Roka's mouth remained in a snarl, her eye keeping pace with the black femme. Her blindness was a disadvantage, the same as Xion's age was her weakness. To have reached the ripe old age of seven was quite a feat, especially with how this particular female chose to live. It must be exhausting for such an old girl to keep herself going at such a pace must be straining. Roka could almost feel pity for such a creature, surely she was starting to feel the age, considering their kind typically didn't live longer than the age of nine. Not with such harsh conditions that wolves had to survive. Could Roka detect a greying in her muzzle, a weariness in her eyes? This wolf was far from being in her prime, and although Roka was damaged, she was half the age of the ebony female. A strong female in her prime, a prime that was beginning to leave Xion, leave her to crave the attentions of a male. Roka only wanted a male to ease her discomfort. She would not suffer one long enough to breed let along bear pups. It would have to be a strong male indeed, one of good blood and superior genes to tempt Roka. No she wouldn't lower herself to allow any male to force her into submission over a simple bout of mating, or heaven forbid love. Such feelings were a weakness, Roka would not allow herself to be possessed by any definition of the word. She was equal to any male, in strength and will. Would never lower herself, an alphess in her own right, in her own world. She was the master of her own fate and her own life and she wouldn't let any male complicate that. Xion was obviously thinking about her companion from the way her eyes lost focus for seconds at a time, how she found herself smiling at her own thoughts. To esteem any male so highly was foreign to Roka, in her experience they were all brutes driven by a need for dominance and an aching in their balls.

She probably gets her less than desired temperament form the filthy dog genes that mark her black pelt. It was a fact that those wolves that possessed a black pelt or gave birth to black pups carried genes of mixed descent. To breed with a dog was almost an insult to being a wolf, no respectable bloodline would carry that black flag of dishonor. This female of such self proclaimed power and importance was nothing more than a mutt, a mongrel resulting from poor breeding. Her temperament was evidence alone that such a mistake in breeding should never have occurred. Wolves were supposed to be pure, noble beasts that resisted their ancestors weakness, their domestication. They weren't supposed to taint such majestic blood with mutts. Likely mutts were the only mates they could find, wretched beings that they were. Sad feral beasts like the pitiful creature in front of her. Roka came from some of the purest blood in the Russian tundra, her blood never losing it's ancestors legacy. Her predecessors never giving into fraternizing with dogs. In fact her pack had been notorious for killing stray dogs that had strayed to far from home. Their muted instincts had made them nothing more than an annoyance to the wolves of her past. They had killed them for the inferior pests they were, never having stooped to affiliating themselves with them. Roka wondered how far the blemish went, how removed Xion was from tainted blood. She looked wolf enough, but she wasn't a pure blood, and if Roka had to guess neither was her companion. The one Xion seemed to be drawing her excitement from. Only another mutt would want the likes of her for a bitch. No doubt Xion was planning to breed and bring a sad little brood of mutts into the world. Xion spat out the word newcomer as if it left a bitter taste on her mouth, yet Roka had an even worse flavor on her tongue. "Mutt." To imagine this creature as a mother was difficult at best. She couldn't picture any male that would leave the raising of his young to such a bitch. To let them be corrupted by her need for blood. It was wolves like Xion that forced humans from their homes with guns and weapons. Made wolves an item on a human hunters list, to be mounted on their walls and worn as nothing more than a decoration. Disgraces to her kind, but the again that could be blamed on her being no better than a dog. Nothing more than a dog, stupid and complacent as they were.


Roka was almost delighted to have met such a poor example for a predator on the island. No doubt she had dull teeth and soft paws, just like her dog ancestors. "All dogs here? Just you?" To be struck down by a beast such as a leopard was a matter of pride for Roka, she hadn't been felled by some dismal creature of puny standard. No she had her sight taken from her by a worthy opponent. She would have died happily knowing she had fought well, but the humans had intervened. Good men and women who had healed her injuries and then sent her off to meet this beast. Fate must have a few tricks up her sleeve. Roka wasn't afraid to kill the she-wolf, but that would be a waste of canine flesh no matter how piteous it was. Roka killed only for the purpose of survival. To eat and protect herself. There was no reason for her to kill this female unless she was provoked. Even with her blind eye she was sure she could hold her own. This female had a disability of the brain if she thought Roka was going to give up her blood easily. A few drops of my blood are worth more than her whole being is. No Roka would not give this dark demon the pleasure of her blood. Wouldn't give her the satisfaction she craved, the release she needed from tasting her blood. Does the king bow the his subjects, no. Neither will I bow to Xion. Roka had to hand it to her, this wolf was capable of intimidation, a tactic that might have worked had it been any other wolf. Roka wasn't afraid and whether it mattered to Xion or not, it mattered to Roka. She had been so unsure of how she would continue on after the humans. If she would maintain her drive or if she would be doomed to dying as a lapdog. No she still had the fire of a true Russian in her blood. A Tundra wolf so physically far from home, but not in spirit. Roka could hear the howls of her relatives in her mind. Could remember the might of them before she had been driven off. Driven off for something so simple as blood. The blood she was so proud of.

Roka had lived in the face of true hardship, had been raised in a place where wolves died more often then they survived. Only the truly strong survived, unlike this place were the only thing easier to find than prey was a friend. Roka rolled her eyes at such a thought. Who needed a companion when solitude was such a bittersweet commodity. She would kill if it meant she could keep her solitude, her freedom. She didn't belong in a pack, didn't belong around others, but that was her choice. Probably a choice this female had been denied. She had probably been rejected by every creature except the lover in her thoughts. Roka could not scent another mingling with Xion's. No permanent imprinting of a mate or lover. Instead it was a stale stench born of a tryst gone sour. It was obvious that this male had been smarter than Roka gave him credit for and escaped while he had a chance. To be bound to such a witch was a sentence into hell. No male would want to tie himself to such an arrogant piece of work. She was haughty, thinking herself better than those around her. I wonder where such an attitude is born from. There is nothing extraordinary about her. No greatness of strength. Roka would be more impressed with such a character if she was a real predator. One who killed with a lethal precision for the sake of food, not a killer. Not some foul beast that maimed innocents for their own pleasure. There was nothing admirable in that. Roka could have even seen herself befriending such a she wolf, looking to her as an ally to be called upon in a dire situation. Now knowing what character she was made up of, Roka would not align herself with such a female that lacked honor. Honor was something to cling to , something that verified whether or not such character was worth putting your trust in. Roka would not trust Xion if she was given the choice. She knew that if it came down to it Xion would do what was best for Xion.

Xion wanted to finish what the snow leopard had started so long ago. Little did she know that the leopard had finished it, had almost killed her, and would have succeeded if the humans had allowed it. The gunshots had forced the cat away from her. If she thought that she could manage to strike fear into Roka, she didn't realize what a stubborn bastard Roka could be when she put her mind to it. One last snarl left her lips before she mustered her command. "Do your worst."

@xion