V.ermillion

[blitzkreig]

She seems dressed in all the rings
Of past fertilities
So fragile, yet so devious
She continues to see
Climatic hands that press her temples and my chest
Enter the night that she came home..Forever

Oh she's the only one who makes me...SAD!

Enter the fatal beauty, femme of dangerous love and false pasts. White coat flowed like quicksilver on the regal bodice of a queen, an empress of flowing murderous needs and attractions. You see the eyes, those soulless blue pits long wrought of their feeling and their need, replaced only by silent indifference. She no longer wants, only hunts and needs, a slave to instinct, a master to her destiny. Silent those large paws carved a path of destruction across the countryside, and back she was to this place she despised, to the life she thought she had left behind. Diabol was back to the cold and unforgiving north, that place of perverse comfort.

She is everything and more..The solemn hypnotic
My Dahlia, bathed in possession
She is on to me
I get nervous, perverse, when I see her it's worse
But the stress is astounding
It's now or never
She's coming home..Forever

Oh, she's the only one who makes me....Sad

You could see them on her body, on the ripple and roll of her broad, bulging muscles, coated in a peppering of deadly-looking scars. These were her tools, honed to a cruel perfection. Jaws ached and clenched, as they always did these days, saliva dripping in bitter strands from her taught black lips. The femmora was still young, but she had seen it, seen the betrayal and the hate of the world, and she despised it, with all her frozen heart she did. So this is what it had come to. The desolate spot of her birth. She knew it from the large stony protrusion poking high above the earth. A human tool, an Inukshook. It had once marked the borders. Her borders.

Hard to say what caught my attention
Vixen crazy..Aphid attraction
Carve my name in my face..To recognize
Such a pheromone cult to terrorize

Alone, always alone. Diabol looked at the bloodstains on her thick paws, then to the stoic, standing figure that seemed to beckon her, great stony arms outstretched, laced in a gentle dress of snow. They once were borders, and now they were simply stale reminders of the hellions that once lived here, having moved on soon after she had been driven off. [grrr] them all, they'd all pay for their treason someday. Heh! She hoped that after they had lost their alphen they fell apart, fell apart like the dogs they were, fighting for the spot she had once coveted and fought for. Tail seemed to swish and her gallantly maned dome turned back to the horizon. The sun had just begun to set, a chill playing its way across the barren tundra.

I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me

A slow sigh escaped her muzzle in a puff of frozen smoke, seeming to hang icily above her maw. Eyes started to switch to their night-sight, blue eyes becoming devilish and tinted with yellowing green reflected by the dim light that surrounded her. They were gone now, but Diabol was back. Little did the two-time queen, one-time murderer, soon she would be greeted again. Her, the child-killer, the mistaken identity of a creature that existed so long ago. They could not see, but Diabol would make them see someday, make them know the pain and humiliation that had stemmed from this bullshit.

I'm a slave and I am a master
No restraints and unchecked collectors
I exist through my need to self-oblige
She is something in me that I despise fine

Where am I now? Who am I now? What does this worldly body serve me for. Often the cold nights, and some of the warm ones, after being separated from her mate and child, her family and friends, Diabol had often considered the option. The ultimate way to end all problems. A supposed sin, but when one has gone through what this troubled queen has been through, the darkness seems quite an enticing temptress. Something warm and final to end off a bitter and open-ended life. Something that falls apart. She was void of the love and the want. And just remained the need. Tilting her muzzle back, her lips curled into an almost perfect 'o' and she lamented her anger and her sorrow to the cold northern airs. It was the haunting cry of the Arctic wolf, seeming both low and high and in the middle all in the same instant. It was as though several wolves were howling at once. And it drifted far. Enter Diabol, the avenger.

She isn't real
I can't make her real
She isn't real
I can't make her real

[Aveilthé]

An ancient creature had been watching from afar. Two ruthless,
dark blue eyes that glowed in the perpetual night; watchful
and full of pain and mystery. On an elongated boulder the beast
was lying, silently contemplating his future and the future of his
wretched pack. It had been a year since Úmaia, the Alpha of
the Mornië pack, had fought and lost in a horrible battle. Full
of hate, Úmaia transformed into a terrible dragon and battled
with Shinkou Ookami's alpha... and had lost.

Ever since, Úmaia was lost and distraught in the darkness,
allowing members of his clan do what they wished. He no longer
cared about leading them anymore. He had since lost his spark
and will to lead them, but he still called himself Alpha. Visions
of returning to Shinkou Ookami and reclaiming what was rightfully
his had lingered in his dreams and nightmares for years. However,
the thought kept him strong enough to even stay in the
desolate earth.

Now, Úmaia, lying in the darkness, noticed new blood in the
territory. Normally, he would jump to greet the newcomer with
a mouthful of teeth to show and an impious demeanor to scare
the tails off of most. Long had he lost his arrogance, and perhaps
for the better. He was shown a new light to the reality in life,
and knew that it was difficult to maintain.

Uttering a deep and thunderous growl, he greeted the newcomer
nonetheless from on high on the rock. Every word was etched
in a lifetime of pain and hate, directed at Diabol.

"And you're here for what purpose?" he asked simply, his
demeanor unkindly but not necessarily hostile. The many long
black fur about his dark face fluttered as a dull breeze sauntered
by. "If you're passing by, pass quickly, lest my fangs find your
ears and rip them from your head. I daresay they'll make a nice
snack after nearly a month of not eating."

[blitzkreig]

..:-: Diabol :-:..

A cold chill fluttered flimsily down her taught spine. The fur down her neck prickled and stood tall upon its own accord, creating a devilish mane. Cold blue eyes seemed to float towards the figure that had seemingly appeared upon the larger flat surface of one of the Inukshook's arm, but Diabol assumed he had been there the whole time, sensing the anger and the putrid stench of decay. Diabolic let her lips curve back, not a snarl, but a slim hum, a smile that spread like a crack in the ice across her scarred muzzle. Her brows narrowed in a frown, those icy orbs darkening and hooded. Another stark wind snapped across her back, reminding her of the chilling night to come. The sun had all but disappeared beyond the horizon, a brilliant orange orb of hope that collapsed in liquid fire, imploding upon itself. The brute dragon creature was something impressive, holding an air of authority about its broad shoulders. Imediatly the wretched queen got a sense of respect for him.

A demon of great authority upon these lands, yet Diabol could feel that he was at his last, another lost hope and lost soul, like herself. In some ways, her bitter, shrunken heart went out to him. But at the same time. Join the club fella; sorry to say we're plum out of t-shirts. For a long few moments she simply stood upon lengthy silvering-white pillars, staring up coldly as the being spoke. He spoke with blunt strength, seeming to have lost his will to lead in a land that was as unforgiving as the animal nature. She cocked her head, showing no quarter, he seemed formidable, and yet unwilling to even defend this place at the same time. This used to be her place.

"I'm here to chase my past, friend. You see these used to be my territories."
She turned her head away from the hulk of hatred and misery and stared back off towards the sunset, the yolk of a broken egg, its broken veins seeping blood into the skies. Battered towers stood tall upon her head, and she just kind of stared, unmoving, indifferent. Standing and chatting was horribly tedious, but she let it happen, go with the flow. Perhaps this dragon-like being could tell her of the whereabouts of her old pack. Maybe she could get some closure on this whole god-damn thing. Dome twisted upon her sinewy neck. Every movement seemed to show just what strength lay beneath that shimmering beauty. Do not be fooled, dear sir, for beneath this emotionless caloused soul lurks a beautiful poison. Breathe to deep, she just may take you as her own.


"I am Diabolic, ex-Alphess of the IceTalon and Shadow Packs. And it appears new blood has moved in upon this land to which I harbour the hatred of my hardships."
All this was said with hardly a thought in her head, just that dim candle, barely flickering, victim to the wind. The night grew dark and chilly, and somewhere in the distance the Northern Lights snaked and danced in eerie colors of a rainbow. Diabol got a strange feeling of vertigo. On those long nights, the white bitch had often sat with her sibling and watched the Lupa Borealis. Ville, the key to her future. Ville, the only one she ever trusted.

[Aveilthé]

'Friend?' Friend. Úmaia never knew the meaning of such
an abominable word. He hated even allowing the word to pass
through his ears.

"Kindred spirits," he snorted acrimoniously, lowering his bushy head
to his huge, talon-riddled paws. From this shadows, a long, slithery
dark tail snaked up to his long body and coiled about his front
forelegs.

"Have a good time then. I won't keep you."

Úmaia then crawled back into the shadows. He made one swift
turn and plopped onto the stone in yet another lying position, only
half of his face displayed by what little light permeated through
the thick, darkening clouds. The rest of his body was hidden in
shadow by a larger rock that rose above him. However, though
he bid the female to leave, he was still watching her, his eyes
loathing her entire creation.

[blitzkreig]

Excuse my arrogance, but what kind of leader are you? Diabol let a slim excuse for contempt slide across her face. The beast turned his back to her, and the bitch began to wonder quite thoroughly whether coming here had really been the right thing to do. Not if she got treated like this.Diabol snorted and sat back on her haunches, showing with much obviousness that she had no intention on going anytime soon. The many scars visible upon her flanks rippled in the newfound light of the Lupa Borealis, seeming to snake towards them from the skies above, the greedy grasping hands of spirits, trying to pull them into the ether. Her blue eyes were a tinted and hellish greenish color in the night, something that reflected her powerful sight in the wee hours of the twilight. Tail flickered from her rump and leisurly, Diabol let her forepaws slide forward as she stretched, giving forth a broad yawn. Tainted pink gums, and still perfect teeth showed as she did, glimmering with saliva.

When she demonstrated she was done with her act of arrogance, Diabol let her gaze fall steady upon Umaia ince more. A creepish grin seemed to slither in serpentine motion across her silvering white mugg. In the dim light she seemed to blend listlessly into the snowy backdrop. So much delicate, near intricate arrogance showed in that single gesture, it was a wonder the dark demon hadnt already jumped from his perch and torn her throat from her neck in a great fan of blood. The thought almost pleased her. What had she to lose anymore. Showing what seemed like testy pity towards Umaia, Diabol shook her head, letting her great mane ripple resplendantly. It was obvious the she-wolf was used to getting her own way.
"Now now, what crawled up your ass this morning?"
she teased, and yet it seemed to hold something close to good nature in it.
"It's only polite to give me your title, seeing as I already gave you mine....."

Diabol waited for the reaction, waited with relish. She had never really been a wolf to push other's buttons. But again she thought, what was there to lose, afterall, she was out here alone, and fated to be alone for the rest of her miserable being. What a [grrr]erow really. You're born, you live your life, maybe fall in love, have a family....eat sleep...Die. That's how Diabol saw it, the great circle of life her ass. Shoulders shrugged, muscles rippled, and her scars stretched across her sinewous flesh. Eager claws scraped against the gritty snow beneath her. The truth behind the fact that she was teasing the big lug was that he kind of liked the fellow already. Hopefully the feeling was mutual. Never before had she encountered a creature that seemed to exude a wall of pure misery and darkness. It filled her and completed her. Sitting, the white bitch waited.

[Aveilthé]

"Now now, what crawled up your ass this morning?" The
light question made the druin's head lift up.

"The mere sight of your face," replied Úmaia to Diabol. It could be
hard to tell whether he was being serious or not. His voice still held
contempt in it. Perhaps, it was equally playful.

"I'm no whelp to be told what I should do in return. Just call
be "wretch", at least that will hold a name both true and accurate
for this beastie. Or perhaps... "useless" will suffice better."

Úmaia returned no feelings for Diabol. He saw nothing in her
but another passing wolf, ready to gloat at his miserable,
emaciating appearance. Úmaia was hungry, and if he had to,
will attempt to chase Diabol down for her ears as a snack.
Apparently however, he had stopped caring since her arrival.
His threats were empty anyway. He wouldn't have an ounce of
strength to attack her, and he knew it. He had eaten his kin
before, only to survive. Hardly a deer or hare passed by these
dried up, miserable lands. Not even grubby bugs crawled or
flittered their way. There was no where else to go.

Luckily, hiding in the shadows, his true appearance was not
visible. Even if the slightest light were to hit is physique, it could
be hard to tell where his frame began or ended against the dark
rocks.

After a long pause, the druin spoke in a defeated manner.
"My real name is Úmaia."

[blitzkreig]

Voice curled up in a cruel and scornful laugh. It wa s a choked and broken sound, something that hacked and echoed in the chilled stillness. Finally, the final cold of night creeped against her thick double-coat. This was what she had been made for, the snows of a harsh winter were her playground, blizzards her school. After some time the laughter faded, yet the general amusement did not. Diabol could sense the druin was in no shape to chase her down, let alone move. But something about him caused her will to take advantage of the hulking beast drain away. It was not pity, but a sort of morbid respect. At least after all the time he had not lost his sense of humor. But Umaia's words were stark and stripped, fairly cynical now. Call me wretch. My my arent we a happy camper?

The hellioness tilted her head to his name. She liked the sound of it, the way it rolled through her mind with a saticfying gentleness. Emediatly she knew what she was to do here. Perhaps there was some sort of reason. Umaia was emaciated, worn and battered, and basicly he cared no longer. Neither did Diabol, wow, together they made quite the pair. A slim chuckle formed in her throat, but for his sake, she bit it back. As much good as that did. Diabol sat thoughtful for a moment, still feeling the amusement from earlier.
"Umaia...a nice name...Might I say, the view around here is pretty nice to, and I'm not talking about the lights in the sky."

Eyebrow cocked with a breed of almost naughty playfulness. Diabol let her body loosen and she stood again. Seriousness came now, but she kept her easy air. Bodice swung with a leisureful sort about it, spine arched in and her tail dangling between her legs. Diabol let her maw part again and this time she spoke with some earnesty.
"Say, Umaia....I can see you're hungry. Might you be able to shift your arse of that stone and come for a walk with me...I know a place that serves great Caribou."
A joke, yet not a joke. She was offering him a lot. Diabol was willing to go on a hunt for him, bring him some food. Anything to stay in his compamy a little longer. She wanted to get to know him, already she was intrigued. Not in a quite so romantic kind of way but who knew? Pick or choose, friend...life or death.

[Aveilthé]

"Your sarcasm is overwhelming," Úmaia replied, for he knew that
this place was no prettier than Hell itself. The skies were no
better; all he could see in them was a big sun that mocked him
everywhere he went.

A sun that hardly shown, anyway. The northern sky was always
cloudy. Diabol was lucky to have caught a sunset in the Mornië
pack. Perhaps that sunset would be the last that she would see
for a few months or so if she decided to stay.

As the wolf wench spoke of caribou, Úmaia was unmoved, yet his
dark blue eyes seem to glow intensely at the thought of it.
No doubt he was very hungry and he would not think twice with
such an offer.

Without a response, he slowly stood up, like a beast being called
to his master. With ease, he descended from the rock, each
huge paw stepping into what little light permeated from the
heavens. His legs were thick and bulky with muscle, and rather
big for this fellow. Once his entire frame stepped onto the level
ground below, his entire personage was instantly revealed.

Úmaia would have looked more terrifying if only his head didn't
droop so defeatedly. Alas, his entire body was riddled in black
scales that since lost their shiny luster for the druin cared little
to groom himself these days. His head was thick with a kind of
black mane. His body was hulking, and his tail twice his size
that looked remarkably like a dragon's, or better yet a lizard's
in the way that it curled about like such. Ears were small and thin.
His face was gaunt due to malnourishment, but otherwise, he was
a strapping fellow indeed.

Úmaia was Satan's true slave of the damned.

Once he presented himself, his blue eyes glowered at Diabol,
as if to say, "I dare you to spill your mock and ridicule."

He stood patiently and awaited Diabol to lead him to the haven
of deliciousness.

[blitzkreig]

As Diabol watched this demon creature slide from his stoney perch atop the Inukshook she felt a swooping in her gut. She bit it back and tried to focus instead on the hunger that she now noticed was gnawing like a rat at her guts. Dome tilted, lobes turned back as the bitch observed this indeed 'wretched' creature slink like slime from his stoney haven. Pity now, mixed with disgust, but at the same time an attraction. You should be ashamed of yourself Diabolic, hitting on a big old foolish demon [grrr]er who's given up on life. A first time for everything she supposed and suddenly she was aware that her limbs were moving. Slow swayign movements, liquid grace as sinewus limbs found their place, one after the other, walking now, peering over her shoulder with her blue eyes watching Umaia.
"Mock and ridicule, honey? I would do no such thing."
And she could not help but roll her eyes.
"Come on you snakey bag of bones."

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names shall never hurt me....Thats what you thought, and then I commited suicide. Left you laughing didnt I, until you found my body lying beaten and damned at the base of a cliff. Maybe if you're lucky, I wont be gored, and all my limbs will be intact. Ooooh, the dark thoughts. Diabol relished them, feeling them slide around in her skull, and what was left of a somewhat rational mind. Umaia was skinny and hungery beyond compare, and the pity seeped back. Hehe, he would probably kill her for pitying him, but who really gave two [grrr]s these days. These days it was eat or be eaten, and Umaia was quite lucky she had made a sidetrip on her way through, just for a visit.
'It's all fate,'
chirped the sickly voice in her head. This one too carried thick amounts of sarcasm to it also. Lots of love, from my mind to yours.

Diabol ate up ground, every once and a while turning back to see if this demon was not justa figment of her imagination and was still following her, both on its limbs and with its serpentine eyes, blue as the ice in hell, if there ever was any. Her own blue eyes matched his, and yet they seemed more like the verdant blue of a summer's day. They were what made her quite the striking bitch, different from the rest. When she walked, she walked with this subtle dignity, something no-one would take away from her, even in death. In those eyes were a [grrr]-you attitude, and a demonic burning hunger. A hunger that had not been saticfied for months. As they walked, silent for the time being, Diabol never liked silence. So she changed that.

"You ruled here once too didn't you?"
she asked, and this time the sarcasm had left her. No pity neither. Just a blunt commanding. The smell of caribou was growing nearer. Curiousity was focused deep on something else though.

[Aveilthé]

Never really one to talk, this druin. Conversations were silly and
often lead to heart-to-heart chatter. Úmaia certainly was not in
the mood to get all friendly and close to the white, harassing
wench.

Úmaia did respond sharply to Diabol's last question. "I still do,"
he growled, trotting heavily ahead of her as if to prove his point.
An individual might guess that he, too, smelled the caribou. Any kind
of meal was extremely rare in Úmaia's territory. Not a grass in sight.
To have caribou wander in here were probably being lead by a
very foolish head-caribou with no sense of direction. Lucky for Diabol
and Úmaia, though.

The scent alone seem to have given Úmaia strength. There
was a kind of brutal tenseness in his claws. His muscles strained
against his scaly skin, and the many hairs along his head stood
on end with excitement. He could smell them, and feel their
delicious hearts beat against their ribs. But where were they?

Úmaia did not have proper sight. For a half a year, his sight
began to dim from reality. Perhaps it was either him living in
the darkness too long, or he never took proper care of himself.
Either way, his eyesight was poor, but had a chance of recovery
if he decided to do something about animal hygiene.

[blitzkreig]

Fiendish eyes observed with some reproach as Umaia snarled lightly and pulled to a heavy trot in front of her. Now, Diabol did not really like it when other's tried to best her, and the Alphess in her grew wearisome of his games. Keep things cool thought old girl, this fella's just insecure about his place around these parts. He no longer feels like the Alpha he once was so he is threatened. Seemed to make sense, so Diabol would go with that.
"That's dandy,"
she whistled, letting him take the lead. Obviously he had smelt the herd also and was becoming eager. No way they would get lost now. In this frozen hell, Diabol was God. This was her ultimate terrain, it fit like the proper piece of a puzzle. Here she blended with the snows, knew every dip and slope and navigated them with a certain dignity that was all her own.

Even now as she walked, Diabol was swift and silent, not wanting to relinquish her positioning to anyone really. Quite hard to do when you had a giant blackish snakey-thingy trailing after you like a lost puppy in search of a scrap to eat. Hey what can you do though? It was quite obvious Umaia was in no mood for idle chatter. All the more reason to taunt him. He wasnt going anywhere, not with delicious meat on the line. With a swift glance ahead, the white bitch sensed he was apprehensive on why the caribou would come so far into such desolate territory.
"Annual migration,"
she said lazily.
"The caribou pass through this place every year. They migrate further south for their rut and birthing seasons. In these migrations there can be thousands of caribou moving at one time. So I dont suppose they'll miss one if we pick it off."

Diabol's ears swivelled. Tired of Umaia's posturing she allowed herself to peel away from the tight forward march she held with him and veered off at a steady lope to the right. Banner fanned out behind her, swaying stiff in the midnight breeze. Limbs milled with a taught anxiety to them, each tendon pulling and straining as she held a stiff-legged trot up a small slope in the earth that dipped upwards beside them. Upon reaching the peak of this slope, which was more of a shallow ridge that ran for quite a few miles further, Diabol stopped and took a breath. She turned and motioned to Umaia quietly with her muzzle. Triumph was wild in her blue eyes. A heavenly sight to behold, standing tall and bold upon that ridge, the Northern Lights dancing a halo around her noble crania. Breath puffed in clean white strands of smoke, drifting towards the yonder.

On the other side of the ridge, one would have not liked to believe their eyes. A vaulting field of ice, with some small grasses showing from beneath the gathered snows. And for miles there they were, maybe over three-thousand caribou. Antlers bobbed in strange patterns, thousands upon thousands of legs moving in eerie unison. They made little sound, except for the occasional bellow on the outer-edges of the herd, the gaurds, keeping watch over this unimaginable flock. Here and there an animal would part from the living contours of the herd to graze on the sparse, dead grasses, before moving on, finding new order amongst their fellows, and continuing on this mindless pilgrimage of nature and pure instinct. Diabol, even having seen such a sight only once before, was still quite amazed. Even she had not been prepared to see this. Blue eyes sought Umaia quietly. Now was the time of the hunter.

[Aveilthé]

Úmaia could smell the caribou's heaving, chilled sweat that dripped
from their icy fur. Promptly the demon started to drool with hunger.
Dark eyes flashed demoniacally as he bared his ivory teeth.

"Follow my lead," he whispered, his voice dripping in sensuality.
The flesh from the animals called to him. Úmaia was a true
epitome of instinct. "We'll take the biggest, fattest one down,"
he murmered, honey coating his once hoarse vocals.

Like a serpent, Úmaia crawled onto his belly and slithered through
the snow. Utterly inaudible, this beast was God of hunting.
After a second, Úmaia disappeared inside the snow. He was
beneath the surface, undoubtedly swimming through it like a
skydragon.

Alas, he would certainly need Diabol to aide him in strength.

[blitzkreig]

With eyes feigning amazement, blue orbs staying slitted and keen, the demoness let her body fall into its hunting mode. Leg's cocked, unhinged and her bodice lowered to the snowy earth until her elbows scraped the whiteness beneath her. Head slung low, as was her tail, breaking away from the plain of a rigid spine. Labrums ripped back to reveal a set of deadly enamals, and they glinted in the scant light, a warning to all, before she seemingly all but disappeared. Body melded with her terrain, became one with the land of her birth. She watched Umaia disappear beneath the snow and snickered.
'Neat trick.'

Body set in motion, legs worked, tail swung out behind her, ears folded neatly against the sides of a giant dome, swaying to and fro. Her deadly talons broke the ice and she began to work her way towards the fathomles herd, thousands of animals, the sweat the proximity, tantilizing. Drool spattered from jaws hanging, sagging hungrily. It curled from her teeth in long, thick strands, a fine line of it being left on the snow beneath her. In Diabol's movements, she brought her self far to the right of the strange moving mound of snow that was Umaia, working on a plan of her own, she was moving with instinct alone, following the way of her lords, her past, kin and all those who came to this desolate land before her. The hunting prowess of hundreds of generations of Arctic Lupine flowing hot through her hungry veins.

Carefully she followed off to the side of Umaia, waiting for him to draw out and give her some sort of signal to pounce, and have her strong jaws close like a vicegrip about some fat caribou's muzzle, closing in on its air, choking it, feeling it struggle. The blood flowing from its nostrils and the tormented last struggles, throes of life and death. And thus was the way of the world. Love it or leave it. Cruelty runs this world. Skirting the oblivious deer, Diabol waited behind a small knoll, waiting for Umaia. Stomache gave a small rumble of anticipation. Patience, love...Patience.

[Aveilthé]

Úmaia's nose then appeared above the surface of the snow. He
was nothing more than a crocodile, weaving through that powder
until he was close to his prey. One particularly huge caribou was
swinging his tail, and pawing at the snow in order to get to the
delicious grass beneath it. As he reached his treat, Úmaia
paused at the hind feet. Slowly, his black muzzle appeared,
but the stupid caribou paid no heed, which was just what he
wanted. Suddenly, Úmaia struck his head like a venomous
serpent and sunk his teeth into the caribou's hind leg. The great
beast reared up in terror and issued a warning call for the others
to begin running.

To Úmaia's pleasure, the caribou began racing headstrong across
the frigid landscape, yet the injured caribou fell behind.

"Come, let us kill it," he called to Diabol softly. He started
lumbering towards the limping animal, yet the huge horned
beast still had fight in him. He was hurrying as fast as he could
to his fellows that were yards in front of the poor, doomed
creature.

[blitzkreig]

Bodice reacted, reacted as it always did, on instinct, taking hold of her and making her more animal, more beastial. Yes, for those handsome blue eyes clouded over as she saw the trickles of blood, small rivulets winding down the injured caribou's hind leg. It paniced, as did the entire herd, creating a solid rumble that seemed to come from the core of the earth itself. As a thounsand creatures moved in unison, Diabol could almost feel the vibrations making their way up the fur on her belly, which lightly touched the ground. Legs hunkered, folded beneath her, she caught Umaia's words, just barely though, all attention was reverted to the blood, slowly spinning off in delicate droplets, crazed ruby gems landing on virgin snows.

And she was off, a whim of her own hungered mind. Her legs unhinged beneath her and shot up strait, like a spring. The demoness broke from her cover, blue eyes hazed red, turning the world into a spinning, rushing blur of madness. Diabol did not care, as she cared for only one thing in such times. One could most likely guess what that was. Umaia may have been the brawn, but Diabol was the speed, the agility, and the overall strength in this mission. She had to overtake the brute before it found its way back into the gut of the herd and was lost forever more amongst a sea of trampling legs and swining antlers. The she-demon blasted forward, her limbs shifting and moving, liquid grace. She ate up the ground deceptivly fast with long, flowing strides that left her suspended in the air for moments at a time. Diabol truely flew. Past Umaia, and overtook the wounded caribou in short time.

With an extra spurt of speed she whipped up in front of the beast, snapping and snarling, her teeth clicking together at its heels. The caribou halted, twirled and wheeled up onto its hind limbs. Forelimbs milled and kicked, its eyes were wide with fear and frustration. Soon they would stare lifeless up at the northern sky. Diabol launched. Her whole body curled in upon itself, muscles bunched beneath flowing white fur, then snapped out like a spring brought taught. She went hurtling for its throat, the beast bucked, and she clamped to its shoulder. Blood ran warm and tangy across her lips and the hellion was tossed about as the caribou bucked and grunted. It still had some fight in its tired body and was not to give up easily. Good, Diabol had expected a fight.

She needed Umaia though, if this job were to be finished, finalized, the deal sealed. Till then Diabol hung on grimmly, her claws scrabbling for purchase upon its sweat-soaked coat. Jaws clamped a little tighter, binding and grating on the tough bone of the shoulderblade. Blood flowed free. Soon.....