Lost in the Echo [Levi]

[Harlot]

Harlot was absolutely miserable.

Though the symptoms of her pregnancy where mild, to put it simply, her mood was on the exact opposite of the spectrum. When she’d first realized she was carrying Arche’s pups, after grumbling for days over her increasing appetite, restlessness, and widening hips, she’d been…numb. There was no giddy happiness, no awe, though she’d certainly smiled and feigned glee when she’d told Arche. Really, though, what had she been expecting? She was a fool. She’d known the potential consequences of mating with him during her time, and yet she’d allowed desire to rule her, foolishly thinking that she’d be one of the lucky femmes who did not conceive from their night of passion. She had been wrong.

It was early in her pregnancy, and her belly was not yet bulging to the point of irritation, but there was a noticeable rotundness to her stomach, making her condition clear to those who looked closely enough. This alone would normally have been reason for a femme not to leave the safety of her pack…but Harlot, it seemed, did not do normal. She’d crossed the Airila border some time ago, picking her way around the mountains, sometimes daring to cross in the less treacherous areas, until at last she’d reached foreign land. She knew, of course, that it was claimed, and yet there was a part of her that stubbornly pushed onwards. Let them kill me, if they wish, she thought snidely, her sapphire eyes narrowed. For then I will not have to deal with being pregnant.

If she was being honest with herself, Harlot was scared. The simple heart of the matter was that she did not want to be a mother. She had never been particularly fond of pups, and yet now her treacherous stomach swelled with the promise of them, and Harlot wasn’t sure how to handle it. Arche, of course, had doted upon her since the moment he’d found out, feeding her and tending to her every need. But Harlot had never been the type of she-wolf to settle down with a brute and start a family. Each time that Arche referred to her as his mate, she had to refrain from flinching. She knew that it was an ideal situation, something she should have been grateful for…but instead there was only a growing resentment and a sense of fear within her.

Now, as she came to stand upon a ridge overlooking the land below, she sighed. Soon enough she would have to return to Shyia before Arche noticed that she had gone. She’d risen early, before the sun had even peaked above the clouds, though it now began to ascend in the distance. But for now, she would enjoy the tiny slice of freedom she’d found when it suddenly seemed as if there was very little that she could control in her life.

TAG: Leviathan
WORDS: 479
NOTES: >)

[Leviathan]

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The scent of Kairos blood still lingered heavily in the giant male's coat, though over time, the majority of the sanguine liquid dried and flaked from his fur as he wandered. Leviathan had parted ways with Mint, albeit briefly, in order to antagonize Kairos in every way possible. Anyone he had encountered could scent the pack upon him; they would have to be far closer to recognize that it was the scent of their fallen comrade rather than the scent of a member of the pack. Things were far better for the male outside of the constrains of his past. For with the death of Xena, Leviathan found himself lighter. There was not a true happiness about him, but he knew that in a way, his purpose was barely over the threshold. What he would make of himself would not be related to Kairos or Valyn, but rather to his own endeavors. He was free from the chains of his birth. Though the warmth and adrenaline from Xena's death was not far in the past, the memory of the overwhelming sense of control and power he felt could not easily be wiped from his mind. He thirsted for more, and yet... reason won out.

Levi knew well enough that he could not run around killing anyone he encountered, for leaving a pile of bodies in his wake would draw attention to him. The scattered kill here and there could be discounted, but Leviathan was intelligent at his very heart. His strikes would have to be poised and planned for him to maintain the high of the kill. Right now, the pressure still coursed through his veins, drawing him closer to his very core. but in time, the feeling was dwindling, before he would soon be back to feeling nothing at all. The pressure and dull pain from his battle wounds ached as a memory of his success, but that was not enough.

And so the male found himself wandering through the lands of Kairos, though further to the east of their precious, protected island. Leviathan was confident that he could pass through virtually undetected, and anyone he encountered would likely return home with a few battle scars and, possibly, a missing appendage. The kenai male had been curious ever since he saw Mint's curious lack of tail. What would it be like to sever a wolf in that way? Could he replicate the appearance on another? If Mint was forced to bear the appearance of a bunny rabbit, certainly another should share in that feeling. It was only a matter of finding the appropriate target. Or perhaps, taking an ear would be a worthwhile choice. The possibilities were limitless.

Leviathan was lost in his musings as he stumbled upon a minuscule excuse for a wolf. Granted, this femme was not quite as short statured as Mint, but she certainly was dwarfed in the shadow of the large kenai male. Curious about the femme, Levi paused his advance, instead taking a seat about a hundred meters away from the smaller wolf. Maybe this wolf would make an interesting target for his experimentation. Yet there was something about her... the femme did not smell of Kairos. This alone intrigued the male; he was within his right to go as he pleased, but this little one was quite a fool to wander into pack territory. And so he began his advance once more toward the femme, rapidly closing the gap with his lengthy stride. When he was a mere handful of feet from the small wolf, his deep voice rumbled to her, "You seem to have lost your way, little one."

But up close, Leviathan noticed something even more interesting about the femme; she was expecting. Though most of the pregnant females had steered clear of the main dens during the previous year when he was but a pup, Levi knew the smell of another male that coated this wolf. And she was certain a little on the... heavy side. His head quirked to the side as an involuntarily dribble of drool ran down his coat, dripping from the corner of his muzzle. What he would not give to take the femme; clearly, she had given herself to someone else. Why would he be any different? The male longed to experience the adrenaline once more, and there were only two surefire ways he knew. Though he had not yet taken a femme, and he was still far too young to conceive from the act, his curiosity was piqued. The male rose to his full height, circling the smaller wolf like a shark corralling its prey.

"You are interesting to me, little one."

Harlot

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[Harlot]

"You seem to have lost your way, little one."

Harlot’s gaze was still firmly planted upon the horizon, but the moment that the deep, rolling voice sounded behind her, she turned to find the most gargantuan creature she’d ever laid eyes upon strolling towards her. It was a miracle, truly, that she had not heard him approaching; Harlot wouldn’t have been surprised if a brute of his size made the ground quake and tremble when he walked. She’d heard rumors of giants among the wolves of this strange island, but she’d assumed they were exaggerations, or perhaps even myths. But now, as round sapphire orbs gazed up at the brute, her head tilted back almost comically just to meet his riveting gaze, every ounce of doubt was chased from her bones.

Though she was clearly awestruck by the very sight of him, Harlot recovered quickly, her wit sharp as ever as her eyes narrowed just a fraction, smoldering and intense once more. ”So I have,” she murmured, her tail flicking at her haunches as she considered the brute. ”But it was very much intentional, giant one.”

There was a strange look in his eyes, intense and heated, as he rose to his paws, appearing larger than ever as he began to circle her as if she were a meal. Instinctively Harlot lowered herself to her haunches, her tail wrapping around to brush her paws as her gaze idly tracked his path, lips quirking upwards in amusement. Perhaps she should have been terrified to have found herself suddenly face-to-face with a massive brute, in foreign territory so far from home…and pregnant, as well. But there was a part of Harlot that enjoyed the thrill, that reveled in the knowledge that she was doing something she should not have been. And this brute, with strange eyes and a predatory presence about him, made her adrenaline rush, her blood sing in her veins.

”As are you to me,” Harlot trilled in response to his previous statement, an auburn-kissed brow arching as her gaze raked across his frame. ”Tell me, are you by chance part bear? I do believe you’re the largest creature I’ve ever laid eyes upon – and perhaps the most handsome, as well.” Briefly she thought of Arche, and the pups that she carried, but a moment later Harlot forced the thoughts from her mind. She did not wish to think of the very things that troubled her, that would steal her life away from her in a matter of months. Here, in this strange territory with this brutish wolf circling her, she was a stranger, her life entirely unknown to him. And so she smiled demurely, tilting her muzzle downwards just slightly as she peaked up at him from beneath half-lidded eyes. ”And is your name as equally impressive as your stature?” She asked, allowing a brief pause before offering her own calling with a slightly softening of her tone, as if she were telling him something very dear and very secret. ”My name is Harlot.”

TAG: Leviathan
WORDS: 505
NOTES: what a hoe

[Leviathan]

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The fact that his very presence drove the female to make herself appear smaller... to attempt to protect herself, was intriguing to the Kenai male. Never before had Leviathan been in such a position of extreme control over one so much lesser than himself. Even Mint had an aura about her that at least demanded some respect, while this female had nothing to earn such rights from the male. Instead, she attempted to turn to flattery over the brilliant-eyed male, yet her words were empty and meaningless to Leviathn. Flattery would get her nowhere with the male, for how could one truly appreciate a compliment without the ability to feel pride or confidence? Levi simply was. He saw little more than a female attempting to control him with her words, and that did not bode well with the male.

"I am no bear, little one," he resorted to his name for the little wench with little regard for the name she provided him. It was interesting to him to see the way that others attempted self-preservation. For Leviathan, it had never been a matter of preserving himself, but rather it was the world around him trying to protect itself from him. Harlot was no more an exception to the rule. Though he was curious what would drag a pregnant pack wolf from her borders, he was not captivated enough to give much thought to her intentions. There was little he could see in her mannerisms, other than that she meant him no physical harm. He instead found himself looking down his snout at the femme with a bland, dull look that constantly graced his face. His inadvertent appearance of disinterest toward the femme would potentially be met with ire, but Levi did not care... he could not care about her feelings. Instead, he saw her as something that could benefit him.

Levi had never had a female to play with. Sure, there had been Zahaira shortly in his youth, but the little mongrel ran off within weeks of them meeting. It was not any different than the others in his life, and he would not be bothered with going after her. Harlot was at least showing signs that she was not going to bolt from him at any given moment, which was a first for the little wolf before him. Most cowered or fled from him; most wolves outside of Kairos, that was. There were not many that could rival him in stature, but in truth, attitude was more of a deciding factor for the male. If Leviathan could tolerate their presence for a reasonable amount of time, he could see some form of association with them. But if they were a nuisance, he held no such promise.

"I am Leviathan," he introduced himself bluntly, his gaze wandering away from the smaller wolf to the horizon. There was an excellent view from up here, which Levi could only imagine was the idiot wolf's intent; get in some sightseeing before the beasts of Kairos came to lay her corpse across the plateau. "You are not wise to travel here. But I am sure if you ask me nicely, we can work out some sort of arrangement for your protection," he ground out, he eyes settling curiously on the femme once more. There was little more than intrigue in his actions; what would it be like to take a female? It would be a different experience, he was sure, but in his youth the male had been forced into a controlling submission. The females of Valyn had been prized above all else, but out here there was no such order. He could do as he wished, and perhaps if this femme did not want to find herself wasted, she would submit and give in to his proclivities.

Harlot

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[Harlot]

A normal femme might have become offended over the brute’s blatant lack of disregard for her advances; a normal femme might have turned tail and left the moment her flirtations were thwarted by his flat gaze. And furthermore, a normal female likely would not have ventured from her homelands into hostile territory at all when she was pregnant. But Harlot was not normal, nor was the rush that flooded her blood, spiking her adrenaline as she gazed up at the gargantuan brute. It was clear he did not belong to Kairos, for his scent was different from the one that surrounded them, masculine and earthy and faintly tinged with the coppery smell of blood. And still, she was not disturbed.

Perhaps it was her pregnancy, which she resented so fiercely that it made her ache. And perhaps she should have felt guilty for flirting so brazenly, for entertaining the brute when his gaze was clearly ravenous as it fell upon her form, when she had a smitten Arche waiting for her. But guilt was not feeling that Harlot was accustomed to; she cared for little more than herself, for her own desires, and in that moment she knew only three things: first, that she did not want the calm, normal life that Arche offered. Second, that she did not want pups. And third, that the gaze of the brute, hot upon her flank, drew her ever closer – even the blankness of his features could not dissuade her.

Leviathan. It was a powerful name, fitting, as if it very much belonged to the brute who prowled around her. And as he offered her his protection with obvious suggestion in his tone, Harlot had no inclination to turn from him. She knew she should have returned home in that moment, never to leave again…but truly, it never crossed her mind. Instead she found herself intrigued by his unfeigned aloofness, drawn in by the flat stare of his gaze, tempted by his subtle suggestion.

Brazenly Harlot reached out, careful to ensure that nothing about her was threatening; he could undoubtedly kill her with a single snap of his jaws if he wished. But still she brushed her muzzle through the fur of his chest as he passed, inhaling his scent, her sapphire eyes glinting with a desire that burned deep within her heart – the desire to return to life as she knew it, before Arche, before pups, before Airila. When she withdrew she smiled, voice soft and purring when she at last replied, her diminutive form so very tiny next to his hulking one. ”Perhaps I have been foolish to wander here so carelessly. And now I am fortunate to have found you,” she murmured, her gaze tracking his every movement as if he were land and she was drowning. ”I would gladly accept your offer, Leviathan…at whatever cost you would name.”

TAG: Leviathan
WORDS: 497
NOTES: ugh so much muse

[Leviathan]

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Though the male knew he could easily take whatever he desired from the smaller wolf, it was far more intriguing to him that, with his proposition, she seemed open to the idea. Leviathan was not offput by the fact that the femme was already with pups; in fact, in a way that appealed to him in a unique way. The reasoning behind this femme's decision to allow a stranger, even one of his size, play her body to his choosing was interesting to him. Did she not have any attachment to the male who had previously claimed her, or was she instead a wanton whore, throwing herself at the kenai male? The unique social bonds between other wolves were somewhat of a mystery to Leviathan. Yet here was a wolf, who smelled of another pack, blatantly offering herself to him. Levi felt an involuntary smirk cross his lips; victory in its own right was his.

There was no regard for the femme's feelings, nor was there anything behind his actions besides a primal drive for the adrenaline. Though Leviathan was certain the red-blooded actions would revive the feelings that rushed through his veins from the Kairos's femme's slaying, he was curious how this experience would compare. So without warning, the male lunged out at Harlot, his sharp canines seizing the small wolf by the nape of her neck. A growl rumbled in the male's throat as he felt the slight trickle of blood from his sharp grasp. The feeling spurred him on as the towered over his smaller counterpart, roughing forcing himself inside her. The male nearly saw red as he pushed further against the female's slightly resisting body, but there was no regard for her; this was about him. This was his control, his pleasure and his conquest.

The male was far too large for the experience to be pleasant for Little Wolf, but Leviathan could feel the fire coursing through his veins once more as the waves of pleasure rushed over him. And though the male was far too young to reproduce, the sheer pleasure and adrenaline from the act drove him back to the femme repeatedly, forcing his body weight against her over and over. She was his play thing, and she existed for nothing more than his pleasure. And as the male found his release, Leviathan roughly shoved Harlot forward, casting her body away from him as he panted heavily, his eyes hooded with an overwhelming bout of desire. Never before had he experienced something so powerful without his victim's carcass resting at his feet. Yet the female was still alive; at least, she was for now. Leviathan had little care for what would happen to the older wolf once she returned to her pack. That was for her to sort out, and by then he would be long gone.

Leviathan felt his gaze fall back on the little one's tattered form, licking his lips to collect the drops of her blood that still rested on his canines. The taste was rich and vibrant, just as he expected. But there was something about the use of her body that brought him the same feeling of euphoria that death and destruction brought. The absolute control over her empowered him, and his ears still pounded from the blood rushing through him. For now, his hunger was sated. 

"You should return home before Kairos finds you here," Leviathan bit out at the femme, turning away from him with little interested. "If I have need of you, I will seek you out." The kenai male abruptly turned his back on the femme, headed south toward the heat of the desert. Mint had warned him not to wander too far, yet he had not heeded her words. If would be best for him to find her once more, and they could continue their journey from there. Harlot was nearly forgotten before the male was out of sight, the only reminder being the red hot adrenaline that drove the male's every step.

Tags: Harlot
Notes: Well, he's a royal ass.

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