-menace [Datura]

[Messoria]

The sun had completed its tour for the day, now been replaced by myriad stars which dotted the inky canopy. The dark curtain that was Dyndre's Swamp blanketed the earth, concealing the twinkling spotlights adorning the velvet texture of the night. There was nothing but darkness and fog, which swirled around the legs of the slender Kairos Huntress as she moved. Her ebon pelt, streaked with chestnut, blended in with the murkiness and gloom, her luminous amber eyes the only source of true light on her body, peering through the mist. She picked her way carefully across the stretch of wet earth, remaining as quiet as possible as she plunged into the line of trees, the damp ground squelching softly beneath her small paws as she skirted neatly and gracefully around puddles of mud. Since there was little chance of her surrendering to dreams any time soon, Messoria had gone wandering. It was something that she did frequently despite the fact that the femme had explored nearly every nook and cranny of her home.

As she walked, she winced with nearly each step that sent jolts of pain radiating through her hips, as well as the treasure tucked primly beneath her tail. Indeed her gait was less graceful than usual, and her time with Goliath was not easily forgotten, marked in her mind by both triumph and worthwhile agony. She’d gotten what she’d been searching for, in the end – still sometimes she caught herself imagining the feel of his weight draped over her back, his dominance and possession so delicious that there had been just a pinprick of pleasure mingled with the pain. She could still smell him on her pelt at times, the thick musky scent of him so powerful that it was intoxicating. And now it was thoughts of life that kept her restless paws moving when Messoria should have been sleeping. Was her belly beginning to swell, or was her wishful thinking causing her to imagine things? She could not tell, but she would not accept the possibility that she had not conceived. In fact, she would not even allow it to flit through her mind. With a flick of her ears she dismissed the meddlesome thoughts; her fortune with Goliath claiming her had been sign enough for the dark vixen.

Admittedly the swamp was not the most pleasant of places in Kairos, and yet Messoria found herself drawn to it. It was where she’d first encountered her fellow hunters, a day that she reflected on with grim amusement. They’d been pleasant enough, and although they all had their sex in common, Messoria had encountered no problems with them. However, there were still several pack mates that Messoria had not acquainted herself with. Now that Goliath had staked his claim, she was less concerned with the brutish warriors, although they were likely all busy with their own flings and romps. An amused smirk graced Messoria’s maw as she settled herself between the massive, gnarled branches of a tree, lowering her rump slowly as if she could avoid the ache. The soft hum of cicadas was constant, broken only occasionally by the raspy croaks of frogs. There was much to be done in Kairos, first and foremost being the raising of fierce little warriors if she had been fortunate enough for her womb to quicken. After that, however….after that she would aim higher. How exactly she was uncertain of, but Messoria knew the weight of her worth, and she would certainly accept no less – no matter how hard she had to work to achieve the greatness she desired. And each season she would succumb to a formidable males desire to bring forth life over and over.

She would find eminence in Kairos; Messoria was certain of it.

WORDS: 630
TAG: removed when I edited the table; didn't wanna tag twice!
NOTES: And it begins >:3

[Deleted]

Her time was growing near. She could feel her body changing as the days dragged on, knew that she would soon receive what she had desired for many months. There was no doubt left in Datura’s mind, or in the mind of her alpha, that she would soon bear his offspring. Every great ruler needed an heir. The process had been difficult on her small frame – his incessant desire and energy that night when he had claimed her, the scent of her blood and his masculine smell. Her limp had subsided, replaced instead with a lumbering waddle. She could not hunt now. She could barely walk, let alone help the rest of the females in their expected duties to the pack. In truth, Datura wanted it to be over, wanted to feel normal again, though the prospect of getting the pups out was unnerving. She was excited and nervous all at once. She was certain, dead certain, that her litter would make Goliath proud, just as she had promised him the night she finally became his. Her body was for him, for his pleasure and his seed, her mind belonged to him, and everything she planned for her future, and the futures of her unborn sons. It was all for her alpha.

The night was dark and empty. Stars twinkled in the firmament above, but Datura instead watched her milky paws as she stepped gingerly over gnarled roots along the bank of the swamp, swollen belly nearly dragging on the ground. Every movement was labored, made more difficult by her sudden weight gain. It felt as if she was more puppy than Datura now. In spite of the cold season, she never went without food when she was hungry. And Datura was always hungry now, as the demand on her body taking its toll. Still, it would be worth every drop of spilled blood, torn flesh and a nearly broken tail. She would have the honor of being the mother of Goliath’s firstborn. As she walked along, she could almost picture what she would create – he would be as big as his father, a son to bring honor to their family.

This glorious vision was swimming through her imagination when she caught the scent of another lurking in the area. Her fiery pelt stuck out like a sore thumb against the twilight backdrop, bright eyes blazing as she became alert. Wary of who she might find, Datura stalked onward. The foreign scent drifted closer with every step she took. It was undoubtedly female, someone that Datura had never met. She avoided most of her new pack mates. It was too much, with the constant exhaustion, hunger, and manic emotions she was not prepared to deal with. For now, all she wanted was to return to the cavern and sleep, to find Goliath and revel in his presence again.

She would not admit how much she wanted to see him now. It was not her place to demand his presence. But she was, by nature, a selfish creature, and she had not wanted to share her beloved with other, lesser females. As if on cue, the vague scent of her lover caught her attention. But Goliath was not here. In the distance, closer than she would have liked, Datura spied a pair of amber eyes. The feminine scent was heavy in the air as if it were part of the fog. Datura did not have to think twice. Her pace hurried, though she still moved awkwardly as she filled the space between the two females – not too close, of course. Datura could not risk hurting her unborn pups if the stranger decided to do something foolish. Her façade was blank, offering no semblance of emotion, save for the savage look hiding behind her honey-hued eyes. ”I am Datura. And who might you be?” Her tone was even, muscles tensed beneath her mottled fur. It took every ounce of will power to keep the space, and to control the rage that was bubbling inside of her as she looked at the darker femme – still reeking of her Goliath. ”Are you a part of the Kairos pack, stranger?”

words : 701

tags : Messoria

ooc : bwahaha!

[Messoria]

For some time, Messoria was alone with only her thoughts as company. It was comforting in a way to be left to her own devices, her emotions flitting across her features freely and carelessly. Kairos was large – the largest pack at the moment, if rumors held true, and she knew that in the coming months it would be difficult to find alone time. Pups would be born in impressive numbers, including a litter of her own if she was not mistaken about her appearing symptoms. There would be no time for late night strolls or distance; there would only be her and her offspring as she raised and conditioned them. She would not allow any of her pups to be weak; it was unthinkable, really. She’d only been in Kairos for a short time and already she knew the importance of strength, and so it was strength that she would provide through the power of her womb. Even her female whelps, should she have them, would be strong, for femmes were important in the scale of things. They would grow to be mothers of behemoths, just as Messoria herself would be. And her sons…Fenrir help them, her sons would be a force to be reckoned with. It was a pleasant daydream that had her lips twitching upwards at the corner, broken only by the sudden flash of ruddy brown in the distance.

Messoria turned her head sharply, expression smoothing into one of polite detachment, as always. Closer and closer the form weaved, and Messoria caught a glimpse of chestnut eyes as the wolf paused for the span of a heartbeat before hastening towards her. There was no doubt that she’d been spotted, and yet the dark vixen did not budge. She sat still, calmly watching at the she-wolf came nearer and nearer until finally Messoria could see her. While she was similar to Messoria in size, if not just a smidge smaller, she was so heavily pregnant that it was astounding. Her belly hung very low to the ground, and Messoria allowed her eyes to slide over it, not missing the plethora of scents that drifted her way. She smelled heavily of Kairos, of Goliath, and the bronze-streaked femme had no doubt that the pups encased in her bulging belly were his. It didn’t surprise her in the least; she knew she was not the only one who’d been claimed by him. Indeed she suspected that with time his harem would only grow, and it was blatantly obvious by the size of the stranger’s stomach that she had very likely been the first to succumb to their alpha’s will. Was that what she would look like in a few week’s time, Messoria wondered? It looked like misery personified, but she was positive that it was worth the discomfort.

”I am Datura. And who might you be?” While there was no hostility in her tone, something about the mottled she-wolf’s stiff posture had Messoria tilting her head just a fraction. Before she could answer, more words slipped from the slender muzzle. ”Are you a part of the Kairos pack, stranger?”

There was a moment where Messoria observed her, and then she dipped her head in acknowledgement as she stood, shaking invisible traces of dirt from her pelt. ”Indeed. The position of Hunter was offered to me by Goliath himself.” Her tone was a confident lilt that deepened just slightly when she spoke of their alpha, her tail unconsciously curling tighter between her legs as a twinge of pain racked her rear end. It took a moment to recover as Messoria dragged her thoughts away from the soreness of her flesh.

”It is a pleasure to meet you, Datura,” she began, committing the name to memory. There was no indication in her tone to suggest that it truly was a pleasure. There was only a polite smile to accompany her words, which did not reflect in the haughty female’s amber eyes. She could feel the tension between the two, light but present. The only question was as to why. ”I’m Messoria.”

Was it her sex that made Datura weary of her, Messoria wondered? It would make little sense considering the ideals of Kairos. No, it had to be something else. There was a gleam in her eyes as she considered the possibilities. Perhaps…perhaps it was the similar scent that clung to their pelts, although more heavily to Datura. ”I see that you will be blessing Kairos with life shortly,” she said slowly, testing the water with her final statement as a smirk spread across her maw. ”I expect to be in the same position myself, soon.”

WORDS: 774
TAG: @datura
NOTES: Figured I'd use their relationships with Goliath to kick of the initial dislike, since Datura doesn't like sharing >;P

[Deleted]

The sound of the foreigner's feminine voice that responded to her call caused both onyx-tipped ears to angle backward toward her skull. ”Indeed. The position of Hunter was offered to me by Goliath himself.” Immediately, the Mexican she-wolf’s lip curled in a feigned half smile. ”Hunter. How special,” Datura responded, chestnut eyes flashing to the subtle movements of the other when she spoke of Goliath – her Goliath. The darker fae was close to her own size, she realized with a sick feeling surfacing in her gut. On cue, she could feel the stirring within her womb as her unborn litter, far larger than Datura could venture to guess, wrestled for space, as if they were voicing their own impatience, ready to come into a world they were destined to take. But they would not be alone. While they would always be the oldest offspring of Goliath, her pups would have a much more detailed family tree – half-siblings, as many as Goliath cared to created. The bitterness crept into her consciousness like a ghost in the night.

How many? How many have you claimed now for yourself now?

”It is a pleasure to meet you, Datura.” Somehow, Datura found the statement difficult to digest. The forced introduction and the intense energy between the two was almost unbearable. Pregnancy wore on her nerves and her patience. This was the last thing she wanted to do, but she could not walk away now. ”I’m Messoria.” She was not shy or timid, as Tala had been when Datura first met her. She was not especially respectful, either, as Xena on the day she found the warrior far wandering Vor’asa, in search of a new purpose. Messoria was another disciple, another female who had come to Kairos – on her own accord, Datura guessed. From the tone of her voice and the reverence she exhibited for their alpha, Datura could only assume that she was one of the many female newcomers to the pack. ”Mm. Yes. A distinct pleasure.” She repeated the final word, unable to conceal the irritation laced in her lowered voice.

The other’s next comment was met with a curt nod. ”I see that you will be blessing Kairos with life shortly,” Even in the scant light, Datura’s condition was abundantly evident. She shifted on her paws as she stood before Messoria, and a sharp ache radiated along her spine, a constant reminder of the massive, and sudden, weight gain. She noted the growing smirk on the dark femme’s muzzle with a new wave of irritation, expression tense and body temperature blazing as her rage intensified – an emotion made worse by Messoria’s final words. ”I expect to be in the same position myself, soon.”

Twin pools of silky brown narrowed. ”Do you?” Datura had guessed as much was true.  Inevitable.  Still… The realization felt like a sharp kick in the chest, as if she deflated into a black hole. She knew it was going to happen. Of course it had happened. But she did not want to know. She did not want to envision her alpha, crawling all over the shadowy female… the sounds of lust, groans filling the air, wherever he had claimed her… his pleasure, blood trickling down her haunches, soaking the sacred ground…

Why this one?

Datura snorted. They would never be in the same position. Messoria was a hunter. Datura was the mother of future kings and conquerers, the stuff legends were made of. Messoria was part of a harem, apparently, and Datura… She viewed the other female as different from herself. Datura had been Goliath’s before Kairos, before the lands were taken and the wolves of Anikira terrified. In less than a year, she had gone from a miserable, starving wanderer, to prominence. No. Messoria could not compare. She was a newcomer – how else could she have gone without Datura’s notice until now? Datura had not exactly been social lately. She had to avoid the males until she was certain she was expecting, and the females… Well, she had not been terribly interested in feigning interest in the other common bitches who now roamed Ina’mos likes flies on a carcass.

”I assume, if indeed you are with child, that you will give birth here on the shores of Ina’mos?” Her brows knit questioningly when she spoke the word if.

words: 775
tag: Messoria

[Messoria]

Irritation practically radiated from the round she-wolf, confirming Messoria’s earlier suspicions concerning their impressive alpha. Her smirk widened as self-satisfaction rolled through her, the clipped, haughty words of Datura sliding effortlessly off of her like water from a duck’s feathers. Her smile never faltered as the barbed words of her newest acquaintance reached her pricked auds. ”I assume, if indeed you are with child, that you will give birth here on the shores of Ina’mos?” She did not miss the emphasis that the femme placed on her wording, a low-pitched laugh slipping from her muzzle unrestrained. How rude of me, she thought, although there was no shame or guilt that followed. The tension that hung around them was as thick as the fog; this was a game that Messoria had played many times before, and the snarky little pest who stood before her would not shake her. Originally she’d hope for a moment of peace, but of course it would not be so. Instead she would spend her time dealing with the waspishness of a hormonal blimp. Lucky me.

Finally, she deigned to reply. ”Of course I will. Did you think any differently?” It was a rhetorical question, her tone suggesting that she was doubting the intelligence of the other she-wolf. Despite the questioning of the other female’s gaze, Messoria allowed no trace of doubt to taint the confidence of her tone. She did not even consider that she was not pregnant – she would not consider it, and certainly not because of the sharp gaze of Datura. It was amusing, really, how quickly things had gone sour after Messoria mentioned her ties to Goliath. Jealousy was not a trait that would get Datura very far with the colossal alpha, and it was this thought that caused her malicious joy to spike higher. She was very nearly giddy with it. Discovering a chink in the armor of another, a weakness, a theoretical thorn in the paw, was something that Messoria practically lived for. It made it so very easy to get under their skin should the need arise, after all.

Lowering herself to her haunches once more, Messoria delicately curled her tail around her slender hips, taking a moment to clean any traces of muck from her pelt. She did not glance at Datura while she did so, instead focusing on her task and taking her precious time in ensuring that she was beautiful. And then, slowly and very coyly, her amber eyes flicked up to the Mexican female, raking across her severely swollen form. ”I did not expect my burden to be an easy one,” she began, her voice low and purring, ”but if the state of you is any indication, it will be worse than I’d originally imagined.” She sniffed with thinly veiled contempt, shaking her head as if the sight of Datura was truly a great disappointment. ”Oh well; it will be well worth the discomfort.”

She looked away once more. She was not worried about any threat that Datura might pose, although Messoria had a sneaking suspicion that her spine rested securely in her throat – she was all bark and no bite. Either way, the state of her pregnancy would make it impossible for her to attempt any rage-filled mauling’s. Momentarily she allowed herself a moment to gather her thoughts, and then she spoke again, although her eyes did not return to Datura. There was no respect left in the dark femme for the Mexican she-wolf, if there’d ever been any at all, and she did not bother to hide it.

”Are the hormones terrible, or are you always so very charming?”

WORDS: 605
TAGS: @datura
NOTES: >=D~

[Deleted]

In spite of the incessant ache that nagged her body, her shoulders squared as she assessed the indifferent way Messoria regarded her. The purebred Mexican fae’s head was held high for the esteem she was due. In time, Messoria would realize the mistake she was making, the same way Kiva had – Datura’s rank was merely a guide for her true purpose. She would be the mother of kings. This one had no knowledge of Datura’s existence…. But she would know. In due time. ”Of course I will. Did you think any differently?” The question was not meant to be answered, but Datura had been biting her tongue for too long. An indignant snort followed, eyes still fixed upon the coral orbs of the haughty stranger. ”It is natural to doubt the existence of something before it makes itself apparent.”

Had she been ravaged all night? What had Goliath seen in this one – another bitch to claim, a black coat. Messoria was, in Datura’s view, one hunter of many. Useful, but expendable. ”I did not expect my burden to be an easy one, but if the state of you is any indication, it will be worse than I’d originally imagined.” Datura drew a long breath as she attempted to steady her patience for the femme – what little patience remained seemed unlikely to sustain. Every word the other uttered made Datura’s heart pound faster. ”Oh well; it will be well worth the discomfort.” Datura’s head shook slowly. A sharp kick from one of her unborn pups reminded her – she could not touch Messoria, no matter how vexing and infuriating the dark one managed to be

”For you, I suppose, it is a burden.  To me, it is a blessing. My offspring will be Goliath’s firstborn, the first pups native to Kairos in the land of their father’s father.” A fleeting moment of joy surfaced – no one, not Messoria or any of the other whores Goliath had claimed, could take this honor away from Datura. There was no need to comment on the implications of firstborn status. Datura would deliver heirs. Messoria could have the extras.

”Are the hormones terrible, or are you always so very charming?” A wry smile cracked through the stern façade, accompanied by a curt laugh, for Datura was genuinely amused by the ignorance of her fellow mother-to-be. The conception was only the first painful step, and neither bitch would believe the number of new lives each carried, the abnormally large litters yet to be born. Her chuckle silenced into cold seriousness. Giving birth was a danger to any wolfess, but to deliver the offspring of wolves twice the size of other, lesser wolves... It was akin to suicide, a fact that worried Datura but ultimately, had not dissuaded her. ”You will just have to wait and see what excitement awaits you…” She paused and offered a lengthy stare at the female’s belly, eyes narrowed as if she could somehow will the inevitable to stop itself. A hunting accident, a long fall, even the birth itself could kill the unborn and their unfortunate mother… There were so many ways for a pregnant fae to succumb to misfortune and lose her litter altogether. The flitting images of each scenario swirled in her mind’s eye as her glare returned to the other’s ebony features, a subtle hint of her secret daydream curling the edges of her dark lips. ”If you are given little burdens to call your own.”

words: 611
tag: Messoria
ooc: cat fight!

[Messoria]

”It is natural to doubt the existence of something before it makes itself apparent.”

Messoria’s only response to the scathing words was a quirk of her brow, her head tilting to one side just slightly. She suspected that Datura wished very badly for something to go wrong – a miscarriage, a false alarm, anything so that she did not bring Goliath’s sons and daughters into the world. It was this thought alone that irritated Messoria more than anything else, amber eyes flashing like fire as she sized up the Mexican female who stood before her. Disdain was a sour taste on her tongue as she snorted, anticipating that there would be more insults and snark to follow. She was not mistaken.

”For you, I suppose, it is a burden. To me, it is a blessing. My offspring will be Goliath’s firstborn, the first pups native to Kairos in the land of their father’s father.”

Once more a chuckle escaped from Messoria’s maw as she shook her head back and forth very slowly. ”Amazing,” she remarked dryly, her tone and gaze making it very clear what she thought of that. She would not doubt Goliath’s decisions, but that did not mean she had to understand them. She saw nothing special in the bitch who stood so arrogantly before her. Regardless, Messoria would have to deal with her smug gloating, something that made her wish for the first time that she would go temporarily deaf. I would not be so lucky.

It was the final words Datura uttered that drew Messoria’s attention back to her, and this time her bark of laughter was as harsh and cold as the expression upon her face as she stood, taking several steps closer to Datura. ”You are so eager for me to have not conceived that it makes me wonder. Perhaps you fear what will happen if Goliath has more sons to dote over than your own?” She narrowed her eyes as she gazed into the orbs of the female before her, her body very still as her words fell from her tongue like stones. ”Your desperation and resentment alone speak for you, Datura. Envy is a terrible ailment of the heart; perhaps you should work on coming to terms with the knowledge that while you may very well have been his first, you will never be his last.”

There as a moment where she did not move as Messoria stared at Datura, giving her words a moment to sink in. Then, as quickly as it had faded her smile returned, sickly sweet as she clicked her tongue. ”I tire of your presence. I will not stand here and stoop to your level of childish wordplay.” She moved to sidestep the female, her side barely brushing Datura’s hip as she passed. When she was several feet away she paused, turning over her shoulder to gaze through the fog. ”Good luck with the birth. I feel as if you’ll need it very much.”

Without another word she turned to resume her departure. Any words that Datura might call would surely reach her auds, but that did not matter now. Her very bones sung with the realization that she loathed Datura. Enemies made everything so very amusing, after all.


WORDS: 541
TAGS: @datura
NOTES: I left the end kinda open so that if you did wanna do another reply for Datura to reply, Messy would hear what she has to say. Or you can let this be it, up to you! c:

[Deleted]

”You are so eager for me to have not conceived that it makes me wonder. Perhaps you fear what will happen if Goliath has more sons to dote over than your own?” The auburn-licked wolfess watched the fae in silent bemusement as she blathered on in an attempt to analyze Datura and her intentions. For a stranger, she certainly had a great deal to say about issues that did not concern her. It took every ounce of self-control to keep her tempestuous emotions in check, and while Datura did not budge, every urge within her wanted to hurt someone. Badly. Keeping her distance was frustrating, and the incessant sound of the other’s voice stoked her growing hatred for the girl. ”Your desperation and resentment alone speak for you, Datura. Envy is a terrible ailment of the heart–" At this comment, Datura could not stifle a chuckle beneath her breath. What did this ragged creature know about manners of the heart? “—perhaps you should work on coming to terms with the knowledge that while you may very well have been his first, you will never be his last.”

”You are mistaken, Mess– “ She paused, lips pursing. The purebred Mexican female had already forgotten the mutt’s unusual moniker, and she grinned unapologetically. Mess was close enough, and seemed apropos for the bristled she-wolf. ”I accepted some time ago, long before you graced Kairos with your presence, that more sons will inevitably follow my own. My alpha may do as he pleases. This much is true. There will be others. My fear, as you call it, is that unworthy sons – unworthy of Kairos and their sire’s prestige – will come. But that is the work of the gods and in the mouth of Fenrir. Envy.” She repeated the word incredulously, irritated that her resentment had been misconstrued for jealousy or desperation. The very idea brought a growl rumbling deep in her throat as the female turned away. Still, she did not budge, standing her ground in spite of the aching and the tiredness, the mud cold and damp beneath her paws.

”I tire of your presence. I will not stand here and stoop to your level of childish wordplay.” A weary, and intentionally loud, sigh escaped Datura’s lungs, but her maw clamped shut as Messoria slipped closer to her. Of course, the bitch could not simply walk away without one final rude comment. ”Good luck with the birth. I feel as if you’ll need it very much.” Datura’s brows knit, puzzled and alarmed, as the ebony fae slipped closer to Datura, and her lip curled back unconsciously in response to the invasion of her personal space. As she slithered passed, Datura’s jaws snapped in her direction, aimed at the female’s hip. The thought of Goliath mounting her left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Datura did not care what Messoria believed or if she was well liked by the huntress. Her thoughts flashed back to another unpleasant fae she had met – Goliath’s own sister. Aaricia had said then that she would stop at nothing until one or the other was gone from Kairos. Months later, the pure white female had fulfilled her own prophecy – gone, without a trace. Datura could not claim responsibility for her former enemy’s disappearance, but she was satisfied nonetheless by the outcome. No one could take from Datura what she worked so hard to create.

Quickly – or as quickly as she could manage, given her heavy state – Datura continued on the same murky path in the opposite direction of her newfound pack mate. She was more intent on sleep than continuing their spat. She called over her shoulder a final farewell, ominous and low, as she disappeared into the darkness that consumed her. ”I will see you again soon enough, Mess. We are pack sisters now, after all.”

words: 701
tag: Messoria
ooc: Feel free to write another reply,
if you feel like it. Otherwise, I'm done! c: