` hypothetical suffering [ datura ]

[Zohartze]

i like the flower but not the garden, the moment but not the dream.
that's what opium does to suffering: makes it of hypothetical interest only.

The pain came first.

Whatever trance Zohartze had been in melted away when he entered her, and suddenly their disparity in size made all the difference in the world. With every push inside of her, her body gasped with effort to stay standing and awake. She had bled, the rips in her tender body warm reminders of the offspring that would grow in her womb, and when he was finished, she stood through their tie faithfully and quietly. When the bond was broken, she had looked into his eyes and given him a relatively somber lick before she limped away. If he’d said anything, she didn’t hear him.

Although every inch of her was screaming with pain, it seemed that her body had calmed down, and the lust did as well. Her mind lingered on him still, though, and she found herself feeling empty and hollow.

She’d never been afraid of anything before. Of course, she wasn’t devoid of the feeling—she knew to run from bears, and felt the adrenaline rush of getting away at the last second, or dodging massive claws. She felt the instinctive panic upon smelling a forest fire, or the frantic moments when water wrapped its hands around her body and threatened to drag her down. But she’d never felt such a feeling towards another wolf—let alone one that she was simultaneously lusting after. It was her fault. She’d asked for it, literally. He didn’t do anything wrong. But she’d never had such pain inflicted upon her, not even from...

She could not keep the thoughts from her head, not without bits of them breaking through to the surface, and the heavy knot in her chest hadn’t helped to keep the tears away. Zohartze felt, for the first time, broken. Vulnerable. And because he had made her that way, she was afraid.

On the other paw, she felt conflicted. She felt like choking because he wasn’t with her, and some part of her brain wanted to get angry—get violent, even—because she knew better than to think he felt the same way. Not that the actual thought crossed her mind—for Zo, the inner workings of affection were completely foreign; simply wordless emotions that set towns ablaze and wore bombs into shopping malls. Inside, she was a dirty war—and she had no way of expressing it.

The she-wolf had gone straight to Llandry Falls after the mating. She crawled carefully down the rocks and into the waters below before walking into the water. The cold, crisp liquid felt like knives on her sensitive wounds, and she whined softly, eyes squinted shut and legs trembling. After a few moments of suffering, she waded onto the grassy shore once more, crumpling to a heap around the flower patches, hoping their height would help to shield her from onlookers as the sun threatened to rise to the east.

She watched the trail of her blood drift slowly downstream.

( words ) 493
( tags ) @datura
( ooc ) Still poopy muse but actually this came a little easier.

[Deleted]

Datura now suspected that she would never be the same. Not after Goliath had invaded her, filling every space, taking and taking until she had nothing left to offer up. The suffering still lingered. Though weeks had passed, she remained tender and bruised. Her tail sagged behind her as if it was a weight. At first, she was fairly certain he had broken the appendage when he took her, so course and unyielding. Still, she knew, the worst was yet to come. Every day her bulging sides seemed to expand visibly, leaving the expectant fae to wonder how many pups she was carrying – and more importantly, how many sons she would soon give to her alpha. That was what her Goliath wanted, and she would give him what he desired, no matter the cost to her own being.

Her walk was ungainly, her hindquarters still sore. Today, she was consumed by the usual maternal fretting, but her worries were intensified by the implications of what would happen if she failed. What if each of the pups was female? The thought was like a kick in the gut. What if …. What if the pups were like her own lineage, smaller, weaker. Worse yet, what if she delivered a litter of runts or stillborns. Such a failure would be inexcusable. Perhaps if she prayed to Fenrir, the god Goliath had explained to her, the great wolf would bless her. Perhaps she would be a believer yet.

Now, Goliath was busy with others matters. Datura bristled at the thought. Now that the breeding season was at its peak, his hunger was insatiable. All other thoughts were pushed to the wayside in a bid to impregnate half the population of the island. The tiny female tried not to think of those others. Her alpha had vanished shortly after Datura’s exhausted body succumbed to the punishment it had received. The morning light found Datura alone. He had gone as silently as he had arrived to mount her, to finally claim her in full, leaving her only when her backside was bloodied and torn. He was undoubtedly in pursuit of more – new meat and new bitches to dominate, to spread his seed across other lands. An unconscious snarl rippled in her throat when she considered where Goliath may have traveled to, all to sate his newfound appetite. The pups produced beyond Kairos’ borders were useless to his cause, the children of their foes. His lust would serve another pack, and his offspring would soon exist among enemy ranks. Savage desire overpowered logic. Datura’s blood flowed hotter, coursing through her veins as she stepped carefully along the path, worn by the paws of her cohorts.

Datura would not admit that she was livid when the nagging reality picked at her mind, a constant reminder of her station. Traces of bitterness would remain, knowing that there would be others, but none of the lesser bitches that followed could claim to be the first mother of Goliath’s children. As far as Datura knew, she was the first. That honor was hers alone.

Naturally, Goliath was not the only influential brute on the island taking advantage of his prestige and position. Rumors of Titan’s dalliances were already begin to seep through the pack. Datura could not predict the legions of pups soon to arrive on the shores of Ina’mos

Along the banks of the river she hobbled closer to the waterfall, Datura’s eyes flicked between boulders, scouring the ground for a plant. She was searching for some semblance of relief – she was far from being a healer by trade, but she did possess some knowledge of plants from her time spent as a lone wolf across the sea on mainland Africa. She did not miss her old life or the autonomy she had willingly abandoned for her alpha. Datura did not attribute her successes and good fortune to kismet. Her growing status was a testament to her own shrewd mind and her connection to the most feared wolf that called Anikira home. Perhaps the gods that Goliath spoke of played some part in the game, currying favor for those powerful enough to grasp it.

She came across a familiar wolf there, resting near the falls, and still carrying their beta’s musky scent along with her own smell, with the undeniable presence of spilled blood. A rare smile crossed her features as she approached Zohartze with the dip of her head, an even rarer sign of respect for the other. Datura was indeed pleased that Titan had taken this one for himself, as she was one of the very few females she trusted or liked, aside from Xena, who had become a closer companion to Datura than she had ever experienced before, protecting her life and those of her unborn pups.

”I see you have survived your own ordeal,” she guessed with a ragged laugh.

words : 815

tags : Zohartze

ooc : this reply turned out
longer than I expected! xD

[Zohartze]

When Zohartze heard the sound of irregular footsteps, she shrunk back quietly into the brush before realizing it was perhaps the only face she would have welcomed in her current state. The female walked with a noticeable limp, and the effort of her pace was apparent. Zohartze watched the other female as she lifted her head, though not actually rising from her laying position. Datura was searching for something, she could see, with her nose to the ground.

She sniffed the air, glad to smell only remnants of Goliath on the pelt of the female. She shook her head in understanding, tucking her head into her chest for a moment to hide her smile. Goliath was nearly as large as Titan was—the difference, to a wolf as small as she or Datura, was completely insignificant. She looked lame in the hips, but with a small smile, Zo noticed that the sides of her belly were just faintly beginning to swell.

A wave of relief washed over her for just a moment. In a way, she was grateful that the only female she could tolerate the company of—Enjoy it, she corrected herself—was in the same boat that she had climbed into herself. The air of relatively nervous energy radiating from the female was enough to plant the seeds of thought that Datura, too, was a first time mother. Perhaps they would figure it out together.

She was also glad, perhaps in a sick way, that it was obvious that the Mexican was in such pain as well. As Datura dipped her head, Zohartze dipped her own, and smiled softly at the other’s words. The telltale bitter tone behind her voice made the female wonder if Datura felt the same as she did—somehow empty, and somehow angry.

“Survived, but not much more than that,” she replied with a smirk, meeting eyes so like her own. “I see you have, as well.” Zo made no attempt to rise to her paws in greeting, but knew that her packmate would understand in full. As she watched the other still eying the surrounding area, she quipped with a chuckle, “I’d help you find what you’re looking for, but I’m just not going to get up.” Even the minor shake of her body made her wince, and her eyes tightened and jaws snapped together in an effort to calm the fresh wave of pain that rippled through her body.

Zohartze didn’t know how to express jealousy. She’d never felt such a thing before, for she’d had no reason to—a life of solitude left little room for feelings of possession. She had only reason to be possessive over her time, her thoughts, her food—and she stayed well enough out of the way that no one had ever bothered her.

Of course, she’d had obsessions before. She’d watched wolves carry out the dirtiest of acts, from murder and deceit to carnal, needy sex out of breeding season. She’d heard the stories of jealous rage, acts of revenge, but she’d never felt it. And feeling was everything. She’d never felt love, either. At least not that she remembered consciously, for she made a concerted effort to keep all memories tucked away deeply. What she felt for Titan didn’t feel like anything she knew, not even the things she had allowed to break through to the surface of consciousness for the purpose of dealing with her current predicament.

All she knew was anger, and sadness, and bitterness, and neediness. It all added up to the feeling of a hole in her chest that threatened to let her organs spill out—and she’d had enough pain. She’d never truly felt pain either. Minor cuts, minor bruises. Never a broken bone. Never more than a struggle with a deer. This pain was a fire, a hammer, a knife, and a whip all at once. Her body and mind were betraying her simultaneously, and it made her both want to laugh, cry, sleep, and kill something. She wasn’t sure which she wanted to do most.

“It hurts,” she said quietly, her comment blunt and ambiguous though her gentle smile was laced with a dash of humor. “And I wish it would stop.”

She looked at her partner again as the smirk on her face turned sour, and she flicked an ear in disgust. “Though we won’t be the last ones to feel this, I’m sure.” It was a test, in a way, to see if her sneaking suspicions about the un-nameable bitterness  Datura was feeling after her encounter Goliath were in a way similar to hers.

Perhaps it was in a sick way, but Zohartze hoped that they were.

( words ) 801
( tags ) @datura
( ooc ) Muse came back, though I feel like this is a bit disorganized. Forgive me for that. xD Edited to change the text color because ick.

[Deleted]

“Survived, but not much more than that. I see you have, as well.” Datura’s head dipped in a knowing nod. Her twisted relationship with their alpha was not a secret. On the contrary, Datura was proud. She wanted all of Anikira to know that she was important, not only as Goliath’s mate but as the mother of kings. Zohartze, however, seemed noticeably different from the last time the two Mexican wolves had met. She could sense her hesitance, but Datura could not interpret the emotions lurking in the other’s eyes. Anger? Sadness? “It hurts and I wish it would stop.” It was strange to see her cohort lying there, unwilling to even stand because of what she had endured – so abused, so vulnerable. Zohartze looked less thrilled with the sacrifice she had made, being taken, being the vessel of a new generation of greatness. As Zohartze continued to speak, her voice low with aggravation, Datura’s eyes flicked back to the other female. “Though we won’t be the last ones to feel this, I’m sure.”

Her expression grew tense, a sardonic smile appearing on her creamy muzzle. ”This is true. We can only hope that the others are less capable of handling them. I would like to see them all bleeding out before Goliath. The weak would not survive… such an experience. Repeatedly.” The spat the final word out with venom on her tongue, the memory of the longest night of her life tumbling in her mind, how he had not stopped after the first tie that bound them together. Even if it meant losing offspring of Goliath, Datura desired nothing more than to see the rest of his harem rotting in the sunshine. Or perhaps this lesser female would lose all of her pups before birth, proving that she was an unworthy choice. The idea was some solace to Datura, but it was not enough.

Xena and Zohartze were the closest things that Datura had to a friend in the ranks of Kairos. Indeed, they were likely the first friends she had ever had. A wanderer had little use for friends. Titan was taking his fair share of the females, to be certain, but that still left a fine selection for their alpha to take. Many of the females that called Ina’mos home were now her competition, and Datura intended to win this unspoken game of control. How could she trust others when so much was at stake? Her entire future – immortality in its most tangible form – rest within her womb. She would live on forever through her children’s children, paying honor to their ancestors.

The pale color of the petals captured Datura’s attention. Their cure, albeit a temporary one, was hiding just beneath the battered femme’s diminutive frame, and she had no idea what she had found. The expression on Datura’s face lit with obvious excitement as she shuffled closer to the female, honey-hued eyes fixed upon the flowers growing under Zohartze’s paws. ”You have already found what I have been searching for.” She could not keep herself from smiling at their good fortune. Perhaps this too was a sign from Fenrir, a promise of what was to come. Datura was not an expert about the wolf god. Her family had never worshipped him or any other deity. The idea was tempting – being chosen by something greater than even the greatest wolf alive – though it was difficult for Datura to conceptualize anyone grander than her Goliath.

”Do you see these? I was searching for poppies. It may hurt again tomorrow, but for today, shall we forget together?” A dainty paw reached out to uncover a seed pod, splashed with darkness. ”Inside here.” Respite, however brief, was better than suffering both physically and mentally. Datura knew she was not the only one who needed a break from reality. Dark claws etched away at the seed until a milky substance leaked from inside. Without further comment, only a mischievous smile to her companion, her muzzle dipped to lap up the liquid, its strange taste lingering on her tongue before she moved on to the next pod.  One would not be enough to ease the pain.

words : 722

tags : Zohartze

ooc : >3

[Zohartze]

The sadistic smile on Datura’s face made Zohartze smile with equal distaste, though the bitterness on her tongue made her cheerfulness taste like muddy waste. I would like to see them all bleeding out before Goliath. Zohartze laughed, a callous hack that was laced with all of the same. She almost wished it were true, though for Titan—what she wouldn’t have given to see it herself. Though her devotion certainly didn’t run as deeply as Datura’s, Zohartze was a broken soul, and romantic interaction was completely new territory. It was only natural that she would fall into obsession quickly.

Though, her stomach did turn when she spoke her next words, a somber remembrance that she wished she didn’t have. “He smelled of that whore Kiva when he found me,” Zo spat malevolently. She laughed cruelly, the smile on her maw grim, her facade masking her hurt. “He chose the moon-faced old bitch before me.”

She didn’t have a chance to dwell, though, for Datura had found the flower she was seeking. Poppy... Zohartze racked her mind for a past knowledge of the flower, but she ultimately lacked it.

Shall we forget together?

Though she was skeptical at first, anything that would help her pain was worth trying—and so she dutifully did as Datura did, moving meticulously from seedpod to seedpod. It wasn’t long before the heavenly liquid took effect. The pain melted away slowly, itching away from her insides and flowing into her paws. As she impulsively licked at the tingling, she noticed how... good... her tongue felt against her skin. Time seemed indefinite as she took note of the effects on her body. The release of pain allowed her to relax, and with every muscle she let go her hold of, a new wave of blissful calm lapped at the corners of her mind.

Zohartze sighed, feeling her breath in her lungs and letting her eyes roll and shut. For that moment, her physical being ceased to matter. A warm glow snaked though her skull, sneaking around her teeth and making her mind seem to vibrate. She felt as if she were simultaneously being pulled to heaven and hell, and the balance felt perfect and harmonious as if the land of the living was all one could ever desire. More than anything, she felt lazy and content and happy. She knew this was a new feeling, this kind of uninhibited, calm, and quiet joy, but her mind weighed as heavy as her limbs and it simply didn’t matter. A gentle smile made its way onto her lips, and every time she shut her eyes, the feeling swelled inside of her.

Zohartze opened her eyes to look at Datura, and while the drug was powerful, her focus remained clear. It felt as if her soul had been unlocked, if only for a moment, and the chemicals in her body amplified her desire for affectionate contact that she had never in her life allowed to surface. She recognized it, and half expected her mind and body to retaliate as they normally did—her open wounds were, for once, not met with the stinging of denial and burning sadness, but a tranquil acceptance.

The Mexican mix stood, steadying herself on all four legs, though she was held up only by the force of the universe. She had no idea how long it took her, or how slowly she was moving—her concept of passing time was as buoyant as sticks in the water. In her mind, she verbally affirmed herself as she lifted a paw to walk.

I was alone for two years and five days. She took a step forward, floating along the grassy floor and through the stems of the flowers. That makes 735 days. Another step. The sun broke through the trees and her face felt warm. She squinted her eyes.

I came here because I didn’t want to be alone anymore. The revelation struck her as obvious in her current state. She knew it all along. Her kind smile was warm, and the air smelled faintly of algae.

Zohartze reached where Datura had settled and looked at her for a moment, meeting her gaze. I don’t want to be alone anymore.

Zohartze was a pup again, playing pretend with her brothers. They travelled the caves and moved to the mouth to look out over the grassy plains. And in her mind’s eye, they played, dancing in the fur of Mother Earth’s back. She laughed and twirled, tagging her brothers before they ran away. But suddenly, Benicio was gone. Her vision of she and Esai playing turned somber, and the two of them looked at eachother sadly. She heard her mother’s throaty scream for forgiveness. She saw her brother wilt and fade and decay. But the young female survived, and instead of approaching the first wolves she saw, she watched them, malicious and spiteful. They might have shown her grace and kindness, but she wouldn’t have known. Spite turned to cold detachment over time. Zohartze had never even given herself the chance. But here and now, she was that wolf again, so young and still so honest. She felt the grief of her brothers deaths and the pleading of her mother. In life, she had shattered and hid herself away. All of the hiding, all of the lying, the nightmares, the killing... it melted out of her opium-soaked bones.

Her choice was not to run from the world. It was to scold it for its cruelty and try to do something about it.

Titan had left her feeling needy, and the chemicals in her bloodstream told her that she was. And so, in a move unseen from Zohartze in 735 days, she laid down to rest next to Datura and pressed her forehead into her neck. She breathed deeply, the other female’s fur tickling her nostrils. It was affectionate, and filled the river of physical contact that she so craved a drink from again. Zohartze didn’t dare move to look her in the eye just yet—she sensed before that Datura wasn’t one for nestling, but she suspected that the female at least wouldn’t attack her, not after their shared brutality from their suitors.

Back in her own mind, Zohartze knew she wasn’t ready to forgive her mother, but she could be a better mother to her impending pups. She was not capable of incredible affection, but she wouldn’t hurt them. She wouldn’t hide them away. They were sired by a god and she would treat them that way—they would be displayed proudly for the world to see.

The itching of her mind told her that her resolve might not last beyond the day. She thought of Titan, and couldn’t be angry with him. She thought of Kiva and didn’t want to rip her stomach open. But, most of all, she thought of her brothers fondly. How handsome they might have been now, with their black coats as dark as the waters in the Eye. It made her happy. She would thank Datura in a few moments and explain herself, but for now, she was content, her bones warm from substance and the rising sun warming their bodies together.

It hurt, but there was so much beauty in the suffering, and Zohartze couldn’t help but smile. With a single close of her eyes, it would all melt away.

?

( words ) 1258 o_o
( tags ) @datura
( ooc ) LOL OOPS.

[Deleted]

The sound of Zohartze’s laugh was strangely soothing to Datura’s frayed nerves – even though they were laughing about the bloody deaths of those they despised, the females who dared to taste the greatness Datura and Zohartze had already enjoyed… even if the enjoyment was limited and the pain lingering, they were among the first their leaders had chosen. The mention of Kiva, one of the hunters accepted into Kairos, Datura nose wrinkled in distaste. She was old enough to be their mother, if not grandmother, and her first encounter with the aging femme had been tense, leaving ill will between the two. ”Her useful years are numbered. The future belongs to the young and the capable.” It was some solace to learn that Zohartze had similar feelings towards the huntress, and a notable frown tugged at the corners of her dark lips as she looked between the mixed breed fae and the blessed poppies. Soon, their fragile forms and bitter emotions would be forgotten entirely, the only escape either female would have in their lives, now dedicated to their pack.

Almost instantaneously, the sore joints and aching muscles seemed to fade into a numbness, body tingling as the opium seeped into her body, replacing the unpleasantness with warmth. But she could still feel. Moving along to the next pod, she was pleased to see Zohartze was doing the same, taking a chance at feeling whole again. She just wanted to feel okay, but today, just okay was not enough. When finally her body felt as light as the air filled her lungs, every muscle seemed to relax beneath her ruddy pelt. Her rosy tongue flicked out to taste the darkness a final time before stepping away. Everything felt slow. It was like moving through water. Behind the fae, her tail swayed calmly. The tip of her tail, dipped in ebony, caught her attention from the corner of her eye. Slowly, her head tilted down to watch. Was it moving on her own, as it seemed? The thought was amusing to the diminutive she-wolf, but she did not laugh aloud.

She stared at the waterfall as if seeing it for the first time – all of the splashes when the water spilled into the pool below, the sound of it filling her ears like white noise, a steady lullaby to calm her newfound emotions and thoughts of someone other than herself. Her eyes turned to the heavens above. The sky seemed a more brilliant shade of azure, and everything around her seemed brilliant and shining, as if it was not quite real, and had never been real in the first place. It was like the world around her was only a dream, and she was only one wolf, one character in the dream – who was dreaming? Was it a trick of Fenris?

The sun felt wonderfully warm on her fur. Eyelids half shut, Datura relished the feeling of each breath of fresh air, the distinct salty taste of the sea heavy on the sea breeze that ruffled her pelt. She did not know how long it would last, but she would enjoy every moment of respite given to her. Blinking, she saw Zohartze move. She looked into Datura’s honey-hued eyes, and she blinked hard to focus on the she-wolf before her. The dark eyes of the female held her stare, as if she could see into Datura’s thoughts, into the deepest parts of her, so neatly tucked away from everyone – including Datura.

She can read my mind.

She opened her mouth and a sound escaped – an odd noise like a choking laugh, mixed with a sigh. The vibration of her voice tickled her throat. Zohartze remained silent, moving closer still as her head came to rest against Datura’s neck. Datura had no time to react to the physical contact, merely blinking in response to the affection offered up, as gently as a mother touches her child. For once, the urge to move away, the desperate need to resist did not swell within Datura’s chest as the female remained there. It felt too good to move away.  What had she been missing all these years?

Our pulse beats as one. The island is alive. Does she feel it, too?

Sometimes, Goliath touched her in ways she thought were affectionate, but Datura was never really certain. She knew that he loved her, in a way that he had never loved any other. She had never desired something like that before, had never received it in a lifetime of harsh treatment and misery. She could feel Zohartze’s warmth. She could feel her calm energy, that bit of tenderness neither bitch had ever acted upon before – certainly not with each other, or with the males who had taken their purity and their claimed their wombs for their own purposes, for a chance at immortality.

She was in another place, far from competition and the looming population explosion, a location that felt far away from the rest of the world. For all she knew, there were others watching them, or lurking close by, but none of that existed in Datura’s mind today. It was like breathing for the first time.

words: 884

tag: Zohartze

ooc: couldn't match your word
count, you're on a roll!

[Zohartze]

Datura laughed, and Zohartze was happy.

The sound that escaped the female’s maw was something beautiful and relaxed—the other fae seemed to almost choke on the noise, and Zo understood. Her body was letting go, and with every breath her limbs seemed to unlock in ways she never knew were possible. As she laid with her packmate, she felt at peace and in sync with her in a way she hadn’t felt before in her life. She’d enjoyed Datura’s presence before the opium set in, but now the closeness felt like something the two were created to do.

Zohartze pulled back from her neck and looked at her—really looked at her. She studied the femme for a moment, noticing the way her honey eyes had softened so much from the first time they’d met. They were practically the same size, both small in their own right, but neither of them felt small to Zo now. She and Datura could have been related—Zohartze was almost just a darker version of her companion.

The realization made her feel fuzzy inside, and she laughed, unable and unwilling to break contact with the other, but she could feel that Datura didn’t either. Their breaths rose and fell as one body, and it was exhilarating.

“Some painkiller,” Zo joked, the smile on her lips a permanent fixture, though her voice remained soft and was lowered almost to a whisper. She didn’t need to speak loudly when the one she was speaking to was so near to her.

In a drug-induced calm, and with her body responding to the spontaneous affection with endorphins and hormones that hadn’t coursed through her veins in far too long, she felt no need to hide her thoughts from her companion. “I haven’t been close to anyone in years.”

The comment was blunt, but it tickled Zo and made her giggle, the melody of the laugh sounding sweet, like an innocent child. “It feels...”

The Mexican mix didn’t finish her sentence. She could feel that Datura knew. She just felt it.

The door to her past had been opened, and Zohartze didn’t attempt to ebb the flow of truth from her maw. She looked absently at the falls, watching the water fall as if it were moving at half-speed. “My mother kept us underground, in the Eye of Fenris.” It was a beautiful cave system. She wished, for a moment, that she could go back to see it, before laughing at herself for the foolishness of it. The poppy’s making it’s own decisions, she remarked internally, the warmth from inside melting away any exterior she had left. “I had two brothers, too. They both died. Never met my father, but I imagine he had to have been better than my mother.” She laughed. “I just... it was just me, all this time,” she exhaled as she spoke, and the air felt warm as it massaged her throat.

It was impossible to be sad. It was impossible to feel pain. Zohartze relished in it. The truth tasted sweet and raw. She’d never confided in anyone before. She’d never even faced her past herself, until just moments earlier. She wondered why wolves didn’t use the poppy more often.

The female sighed again, tearing her attention from the falls to meet Datura’s eyes once again. She wanted to say, How about you? How did you get here?—but as she looked into the eyes of the russet female, she forgot her questions.

Datura laughed, and Zohartze was happy.

( words ) 614
( tags ) @datura
( ooc ) Half of that last post but heh. c: Equally as musey, just shorter.

[Deleted]

Every breath felt wonderful as it filled her lungs, refreshing and invigorating. Zohartze was still resting against her, the other’s distinctly feminine scent filling her senses with every sweet inhale, so intoxicating that Datura swore she could taste it on her tongue, mingling with the ocean salt and the lingering resin from the merciful poppies. Perhaps her parents should have called her Poppy instead of Datura. She had never felt so calm, so uninhibited before. She had no desire to pull away or lash out at the closeness. Any other day, Datura would have protested. Any other day, she would have refused. But today felt like a dream, shiny and clear and beautiful.

Everything felt wonderful, like she was a part of a daydream. The tips of her toes tingled, numbness creeping into every limb and every part of her that Goliath had demolished with his masculine girth. The thought of the conception, of being taken again and again, of abandoning everything she had for her mate, seemed less painful and very far away. She thought of Goliath, but even he felt distant from the dreamland she had found with Zohartze. She felt blessed, but in a different way than she had felt before. Chosen by Goliath, perhaps chosen by Fenrir himself… But Goliath was not here, and Fenrir remained elusive still. This was beauty that neither her alpha nor his god could never see or comprehend.

The auburn-kissed fae watched Zohartze’s mouth as she spoke, the way her lips moved and the gentle tongue as the words escaped, transfixed. The mixed breed female’s voice was a song, and there was no one else to hear it but Datura. This moment, the feeling, even Zohartze – for once, Datura did not have to share. This was something all her own. It was a bliss of another kind.

Zohartze spoke of the life she had before, before Kairos, before Titan and Ina’mos and the savagery of sex, torn flesh and spilled blood. Datura listened, eyelids drifting shut as the other shared her story. Zohartze’s words floated through her consciousness, something she would think about when the moment had passed. Loss, solitude… They were old friends of Datura. When Zohartze’s voice drifted into silence, her eyes opened again. The chocolate colored eyes of her friend were there, so close to her own features that the two nearly touched.

Following a lengthy silence, Datura began to speak, giving her words little thought as they flowed from her chords. ”I had brothers. Many brothers. All died.” Her speech lacked its usual tact, her posture relaxed. ”No one cared. So I never cared. They came and they went, certain as the seasons. I was the only one…” She sighed gently, but she was not sad. She continued, an odd smile crossing her muzzle. ”I was the only one who made it out alive. My father and mother…”

She had pushed the feelings away so adeptly, had learned to ignore that gnawing desire to be close to someone. She had no need for friends and for intimacy in her daily life and the struggles she endured. Wolves were social creatures, and the need for closeness existed within each of their kind. ”My father and my mother were alphas. Alphas of nothing. They left nothing but carrion for the crows. And me.”

Her laughter was giddy in spite of her morbid discussion, and her gaze finally tore away from Zohartze’s façade, turning to the cloudless sky above. Today, the sun seemed closer, warmer – everything seemed different, better. ”No one knows that. No one knows anything.” A clandestine smile seeped across her pale maw. She leaned closer to the femme. ”No one but us.” It was as if there was some great secret shared between the two of them, some cosmic truth only realized when it was not one female or the other, but both, together, in this paradise of their own creation.

The need to get closer, spawned from cold distance and years of self-denial, was a release – Here, she did not need to be alone. Here, she was not waiting for the approval of her alpha. In this place, with this wolf, she did not have to hide any longer. She could feel the truth, warm and spreading through her core as she leaned closer. Her muzzle pressed against Zohartze’s cheek, softer than anything imaginable.

”Zohartze.” The name felt divine on her tongue, made her feel tranquil and excited all at once.

words: 775
tag: Zohartze

[Zohartze]

Zo listened to Datura as she spoke, and met and held her gaze as she spoke. The parallels were there between them—and the broken cracks in her matched with those of Datura. The unfeeling rejection of others and closeness had ravaged them, perhaps leaving holes in the two females so deeply sunk that they had all but shut down, cloaking themselves in a colder, tougher exterior.

It was a façade in the truest sense of the word. The two females were peeling away in front of one another, and the creatures underneath were just as beautiful as they were on the outside, if only for a moment, if only to one another.

When she moved towards her, sliding her face against Zo’s cheek, the feeling danced down her spine and spread into her limbs. She’d never been touched like this—not with so much affection. The warmth dripped from her bones and into her skin. For something she had never done, her body knew how to react. It was an instinct. She was made for this.

Zohartze moved closer still, interlacing her legs with Datura’s and slipping her head over the neck of the other in a tender embrace. She licked the scruff of her neck, feeling tender scabs no doubt left from she and Goliath’s endeavors. It didn’t startle her—she understood the male. She felt the bond between the two as a tangible force, but she knew it wasn’t anything like the one the two females shared. They had a secret that even the god that Goliath might have been didn’t know. He wasn’t omnipotent. And if Zohartze believed in the god that her mother and alleged father worshipped, she would think they were made for one another.

She smiled, a small and secret warmth radiating from her breath. “No one but us,” she whispered into Datura’s fur. It was a wonderful realization, but also a promise.

And then she said her name. Zohartze.

The declaration made her body feel week and her stomach erupt into a lightning storm. Her hair was electrified and her eyes rolled shut. She breathed out, her throat unintentionally adding a tone to the exhalation and she pulled the female closer, squinting her eyes. Something about all of this was so very right, and Zohartze tried to chalk all of her emotions to the flower. She couldn’t.

The Mexican mix was quiet for a moment, locked in their embrace and breathing in her scent, before pulling back again to speak. “Was your pack here on Anikira?” the fae asked, her tone still gentle; but, inside, she wondered if she had watched them. For a moment, there was fear—fear that perhaps she had watched Datura unbeknownst to her, and fear that she would think less of her for her habits of watching other so closely, never getting close. Her mind itched for release, but Zo held back. She knew what she might think—it wasn’t normal to stay back and watch other wolves live their lives. To watch rapes, brutal murders, tender moments, packs be made and broken, and never say a single word... Zohartze knew that wasn’t what normal wolves would do.

She swallowed, and her blink lasted a long time. Her body flushed with the wings of hummingbirds when it realized, again, how close she was with her companion. She could hold back, but she wouldn’t. And she smiled.

Inhibitions aside, she told Datura. “I’ve... known... most of the packs that were here in my lifetime. I’ve heard the stories of more.” She paused, the odd smile returning. It was fear and guilt mixed in with opioid giddiness. She referenced Datura’s own retelling of her past: “I was like the crow, maybe. I saw them, they just never saw me.” It made her laugh, a bubbling from her stomach that sounded benign. If nervousness was making it through to consciousness while she was so affected, she hated to know what it would be like to talk about if she weren’t. She was like a pup, fearful for her only companion to think she wasn’t to be played with anymore, but too happy, too comfortable to truly worry. For the first time since the beginning of her trip, she felt restrained by the happiness that came with the absence of pain.

“I’m not proud of it,” Zohartze confessed, looking back up at her. “But it’s over.” The fear tried to make her look away from Datura’s eyes.

It wasn’t the poppy that kept her gaze locked where it was.

( words ) 772
( tags ) @datura
( ooc ) :>

[Deleted]

Real life around her seemed to sway slowly like palm trees before her, the colors blending, and everything was beautiful. She was beautiful here. The female who came over was beautiful. Her chest swelled, a serene exhilaration seeping through her limbs as she felt the gentle tongue of the female on her nape. Datura felt an inexplicable yearning kindling inside of her with each careful lick, pulsating through her body. Her body quivered with excitement. The impulse to shut down and move away was gone, long gone now, as if this was the most natural, obvious thing to do. She could not find the energy or the desire to break away and disturb their divine repose. None of it hurt anymore. Another heavenly gulp of delicious air, closer to paradise with the passing minutes, she remained nestled there.

The pure Mexican wolfess could feel the femme all around her. Their scents and their bodies interlaced, the softness of her gentle form… It was the opposite of everything she had ever known before. Zohartze was the antithesis to all of the wolves that had come before. Her parents had been apathetic, though they had given her the gift of independence and survivor’s instincts. Goliath’s passion had been arduous and relentless, not to mention painful. She would not hesitate to let her alpha mount her once more, she would gladly give her all to him when he desired it, but now, when she was raw and used… He had gone out to find more. Others.

Datura had not expected gentle affection in her lifetime, had never wanted or needed something as frivolous as intimacy. Now, the thought of leaving Zohartze’s side was unfathomable. When the other inquired about her natal pack, pulling away to look at her, Datura’s nose wrinkled. ”Nooo, no,” she drawled slowly, drawing out the vowel with a hint of sardonic laughter at the thought of the lands she had come from – a place that wolves had never existed in a while, and could never survive. She thought of the two-legged ones that pursued them, no matter which direction they fled, and of the miserable excuses for hunts the rag-tag pack of fugitives caught back there. Back there, the land was hot and there was no relief from the shade. No relief from humans – the one thing she despised more than anything that roused her ire. For a lingering moment, Datura was silent. She had never told Goliath about her origins, too shamed by the misery she was born into. That was all so far away, it hardly seemed worth mentioning. There was nothing – nothing – to be proud of in Datura’s worthless existence before Kairos.

No one knew her story. Goliath knew only that she had washed ashore, as if the gods had planned for this all along. And no one would ever know, since Datura was skilled keeping her secrets. Or, it seemed, no one but Zohartze would know. She was different somehow. It was as if the shroud around Datura had been lifted – the hiding, the secrecy. Perhaps it was the poppies, or the closeness of the female who encircled her in her warmth. Finally, after what felt like a long silence, her eyes closed again. ”I came from across the sea, on a land with no end. Africa. My life began when the sea brought me to the shore of Anikira. I met Goliath that day – that instant. It was the origin of me.” Her timbre dropped as she spoke of it, a subtle hint that she had nothing more to say about what had come before. It was inconsequential to what she had achieved in less than a year – from a half-drowned mongrel, to the future mother of giants, and eminence.

She wanted the pain to stay away forever and for the euphoria to last – not only for herself, but for her companion, to fall asleep beside someone who would still be there when she woke. Not a mate, not quite a friend. Datura’s face tilted to offer a soft lick to the other’s creamy maw. ”Stay.” Not a question, nor a demand – yet somehow, she knew the other wanted more – a reciprocal craving. The fae would savor the sensations, so warm and untainted, for as long as her battered body would allow. Tomorrow, the suffering would return. Within weeks, she would be heavy with child, and the worst part of all was yet to come.

But now… Now was picture perfect, found in the embrace of a her own kind. Datura drifted still further, away from submission and suffering and the impending agony to come when her pups arrived, much sooner than she expected.

words: 805
tag: Zohartze
ooc: cuddle puddle <3

[Zohartze]

The blissful world that Zohartze and Datura were living in was a beautiful thing. The scorn she felt from Titan had melted away, but she’d given it some thought—she would confront him, she thought. Why not? She almost laughed. She didn’t need the affection from him. She didn’t need anything from him. Zohartze decided that she’d wait and visit the bitch Kiva’s pups, if she was indeed with child. She hoped they would die when they touched the ground, and she was only jolted from the thought by the words spoken by a voice that no longer dripped of malice, but of acceptance and completion.

The Mexican mix didn’t move this time, and didn’t open her eyes as her companion spoke. The female hadn’t worried about her past, nor judged her for her actions. Her relief was immediate, and though she stayed in the darkness behind her eyelids she was listening closely. It was the origin of me, she had said, and Zo pulled back once again, looking her in the eyes. Datura told her to stay, and the lick to her maw sent another wave of warmth and excitement down her body.

Zohartze stared into her eyes, unspeaking, for a seemingly frozen moment in time. The world quieted, and she didn’t even want to say anything at all. She was lost in the closeness, in the moment, in the femme in front of her. Overcome once again, she placed her head under Datura’s chin and ran her head along her neck, attempting to move closer, as if somehow, the two could conform into one. Her heart was racing in her chest, the rhythm vibrating through her body. The way she felt was desperate, almost—she needed this. She needed her. Zohartze’s body told the secrets she couldn’t say out loud, and she moved with the fluidity of the river as she caressed Datura’s body with her own.

But as all things do, she knew this would end—her body’s ecstasy would be quieted and replaced with former pain. She took a deep breath and settled her mind, a silent apology laced between her teeth in the devilish smirk on her maw and the glittering of her eyes. They would rest. They might sleep. All Zohartze knew for sure was that they had formed a bond that wouldn’t fade away when the haziness did, and for that, she could wait to act on impulse.

They would stay in their heaven as long as it lasted, and they would stay there together.

?

( words ) 437
( tags ) @datura
( ooc ) Wrote too many papers this week I think. xD Musey but my brain won't formulate words. 

END THREAD.