Under The Moonlight

[Kitana000]

Midnight.

The moon was at it's peek in this dark, desolate home. A rogue, so small and yet, so keen to her where-a-bouts was slowly making her way down the thick, rocky terrain. Her travels had been long and hard many nights before-- and it showed with her weary forearms weakly balancing herself on each boulder face. It was a non-stop battle for survival with this one. Not with just her alone. But with those she surrounds herself with as well. Climbing mountains, jumping rivers and chasing dinner without a single catch for days! That was her way of life now. Sad, was it not? But that was the least of her problems. Souls to feed and harvest, was the biggest. It had been weeks since the feisty cur had come into contact with other life forms suitable for soul snagging and reproduction. But isn’t it an odd thing to think about at a time like this, one might say? Why would anyone want to reproduce in the midst of a travel; the big migrate change!? In truce, it wasn’t her decision anymore. It was ‘his.’

He who rules, and he who collects.

He was her keeper, the one who told her what to do and what not to do when it came to the two things. In order to fill her quota, she had to. A sigh to the thought, if you will. But she did her best not to dwell on her situation. The souls she collected were often by rogues she cared very little for, and the reproduction was rare. Even if he demanded it from her—she refused to abide by his rules at all times. “If I am your vessel, then you have to let me do, my job, my way” is what she said to him. And he wasn’t too happy with it. But frankly, she didn’t care. Regardless of how she felt however, he always got what he wanted from her.

Sickening, disgrace.

The mountains weighed heavily on her small physique when it came to an end. Lush green grass finally graced her silver forepaws, allowing her a grip, unlike the rocky terrain. It was too hard—too solid to grab ahold of. But the grass; it was slick and smooth with soil beneath it. She could sink her claws in and hold onto it, even when she didn’t need to. It was comforting. But the moment her body changed from tense to relaxed, she grew weak in the knees and began to crouch low to the earth.

“A little rest wouldn’t hurt, I think..”

She claimed, her tail flopping to the ground lazily. The chain that laced through the fur of her tail jingled and clanked against the floor, forcing the glowing spirit within the cage to light up. And just like the rays of the moon that shone down upon her, the spirit gave her fur such a gentle glaze-of-a-glow. Her pelt glistened in the night with it’s raven, red, orange and yellow discoloration. She was quite a sight—almost frightening with her long fangs and claws. Especially with her wing—ah yes the majestic gargoyle’s appendage that branded her. What a sight! It stretched against the rays of the moon and flexed till every vein could be seen. The gentle sea breeze coming off the cliff side kissed it’s leathery exterior. What a feeling.. If only she could make it to the crest. She just wanted to watch the waves.

“Hn.. Maybe with a little rest, I can reserve enough strength to hunt later on..”

And then maybe, just maybe she could watch the waves till dawn. She sighed to the thought and began to close her eyes. But before she could, her ear twitched. That long appendage caught wind of something—the sound of grass rustling, and trees swaying in the distance from the breeze picking up. Was it by chance she heard this? Or was her paranoia pulling off. She raised her weary dome and glanced around curiously.

A warning growl to whoever may be there.

[twist-of-fate-16]

((hope you don't mind me jumping in here, but Shimree's freaking awesome and I needed to get my boy Dakarai in somehow))

He stumbled on weary paws through the tall grass, the sea breeze whispering through his mane and lifting his spirit. He had never seen the ocean before, but he had heard its name all his life, and felt its irresistible call. He had heard of its endlessness, and the way it ebbed and flowed, pulled only by the moon, but he had learned long ago that words are useless to describe something truly awe-inspiring. He wanted to see it for himself.

The moon hung heavy and low in the sky as he made the last few steps up to the peak and looked down onto the water. The waves crashing far below threw salty droplets into his dappled fur, and he lifted his head and breathed in the sea air, feeling at peace for the first time in a long while. He sank down in the tall grass, letting his paws hang over the cliffside, and imagined walking on mist and air to where the sea met the sky.

A sound in the night made him lift up his head. The absence of his own voice had honed his other senses, and he recognized the warning growl of another lion. He rose slowly to his feet and drank in the air, trying to catch the scent of the other lion, but only the sea air met his sensitive nose. He stiffened, readying for a fight if the need came. He knew he could defend himself, but he didn't want to fight if he didn't have to. He only hoped that this mysterious visitor felt the same way.

[Kitana000]

[I don't mind at all. n.n I actually hope more people join, it would be fun! <33 =D]

She was alert.

It didn’t take long for the dark lioness to realize she wasn’t alone anymore. But was it good or bad that she was now in the company of a stranger? It would depend really—depending on how they took to her growls and her aggression. That is, if she became aggressive towards them. Naturally she was a predator with territory issues, like most high ranking creatures of the food chain. But she wasn’t as dangerous as she appeared. She was subtle and friendly once you get to know her. But at first glance, and first meet, the first thoughts are usually ‘please don’t eat me!’ She had scars up and down her forearms, across the eyes, and even some on her neck, hidden beneath the excessive fur. It was intimidating to most, given the impression she was a combat fighter. But Shimree was far from it. She was actually the weakest in her bloodline. Even some of her children knew how to fight better than her. Why? Because she truthfully saw no reason to fight—not unless someone was in her territory, attacking her kin, which was rare.

She was the underdog. Always getting into fights, but always losing them at the same time. Her body was battered and bruised to no repair. But regardless of her weakness, Shimree was a stubborn monster. She still put on a poker face every once in a while when she needed to. Slowly she stood; her legs nimbly, frail and willing to snap at the slightest touch. Her muscles tensed as a bluff. Her claws extended and gripped at the soil, and her fur bristled to give her a more aggressive appearance, just as she shined her tainted jowls and hissed a snarly demand.

“Who’s there! Show yourself..”

Bold, so very bold.

Her tone was soft and yet dominant in it’s own way. It demanded whoever was there to appear before her eyes. Well, her good eye that is. She turned her head left and right, curiously looking about as her wing spread. When threatened, her wing pulled erect like arched shoulder blade—placing her dominance on the table as if challenged! She was ready for anything. But she knew if she was attacked, she’d topple over like a bag of grain. She began to snort in her growls, a sign of agitation, but lacking aggression. Her way of informing the other she would not harm them, if they did not harm her.

She began to loom.

Her paws carried her slowly through the land, leading her in the direction she wanted—towards the ocean front. But that was where she saw a dark figure. It was blurry at first; tall, masculine. It had to be a male, right?

“Is that you??”

[twist-of-fate-16]

Dakarai tensed at the voice that the wind carried to his sharp ears. It sounded soft, yet strong; the musical tones beneath the snarled words suggested a dominant female. But tones and pitch and music mean nothing to a creature with no voice of his own, and he raised up his head, refusing to let down his guard.

He stepped forward on tentative paws, trying to see into the shadows to catch a glimpse of this lioness; he trusted his eyes more than his ears. It wasn't until he was standing on the very peak, silhouetted fully against the silver moon, that the voice came again, tentative, questioning--"Is that you?"

He couldn't respond; couldn't do anything but keeping coming, hoping that the lioness would answer her own question, and then he saw her.

He reeled backward, his paws stumbling as his heart jumped into his throat. His composure was gone, torn to shreds by the sight before his eyes.

A lioness, crimson as blood and black as the devil the storyteller often spoke of. One wing arched over her back, a small skull swaying on a chain from its clawed tip. She met his eyes levelly, as if daring him to run.

He regained his feet and stared back at her, feeling oddly unafraid. She didn't seem to want a fight, and he willed her to understand that he didn't either, trying to show her all the words that he could not say.

[Kitana000]

I see you.

Her eyes narrowed dangerously through the dense atmosphere of the night. Almost as if locked on a moving target she dared to swoop down upon. However she wouldn’t, nor could she with her fragile state of being. She moved closer, captivated by the silence of this male. His body language spoke louder than words; clearly he was not threatened by her, but curious. However she knew if she let her guard down his mood could shift. She kept her dominance intact, and the bluff that rumbled within her chest, barreling passed her jugular and through her clenched jowls. Her lips came to a twitch, steadily lifting over her stained fangs just enough to keep him on his toes. That is, if he felt like dancing.

“Well….?”

She questioned. She was curious—was he silent because he wanted to be? Or was he silent because he had to be? She was unsure. Surely she was addressing him correctly, right? Her head rose out of that demanding position and tilted to the right, just enough to show she wanted to know. Maybe he was silent because she was being rude? Usually that was the case. But maybe he was a mute.

“I am only crossing these lands. I mean you no harm.. My name is Shimree.”

She stated in a softer tone. Though her guard was high on alert, her tune was shifting in hopes of a truce without war between the two. She just wanted near the ocean to rest. She didn’t even realize she was alone till moments before. Her pace ended along-side the words about the same time she got close enough to see him in the moonlight. Her knees buckled to keep her form low and prepared for swift movement to the right or left—whichever she’d need to get away from him. She was like a timid dog in the presence of a stranger. The slightest movement could cause her to jump back! Or forward in attack. She was at that moment, a little unpredictable.

She took a long pause and waited for the male to respond. Her wing began to lower and the voices in her head, began to stir.

He seems strong..
A little silent, don’t you think?
Take him take him!
Shhh! Don’t bother her while she is hunting.
She can’t take him down, he’s too big!
Want to bet?

The whispers grew louder and louder. It was apparent with her ears twitching wildly back and forth, trying to ignore the ignorant coos of disaster.

Alright alright! Lets see what happens eh?
Wait, what will Memnoch say if she doesn’t collect this one?
Haha… lets see..

“..Do you speak?”

She finally broke, her words hushed as the whispers fell silent.

[twist-of-fate-16]

Shimree...

The name struck a chord within him. He regarded her with a sort of careful wonder, memorizing her. She was not as fierce as she had seemed at first. Her body was lithe, but painfully thin, and there was a tiredness about her that belied her threatening demeanor. As he watched, she began to flick her ears, as though shooing away some biting insect that he could not see. Her face seemed to contort as she battled some internal force, and he considered backing away, unsure.

She lifted her head. Do you speak?

He slowly shook his head, his full mane swaying with the movement. He sat down on his haunches, showing he did not mean to cause her harm. He tilted his head to the left, watching her curiously. She was not like anything he had encountered before. Perhaps she would not regard him as cursed, as so many others had, if he were to reach out to her.

The bond would not be strong, he knew, and the link would be one way only. But at least it would be a way of communication.

He closed his green eyes and breathed in deeply, allowing the salt air to fill his lungs, then exhaled, allowing the wind to take his thoughts.

My name is Dakarai, and I mean you no harm.

[Kitana000]

He shook his head. He didn’t speak.

Well at least she was clear on the situation. He was calm and curious of her it seemed. Meaning, she could lower her guard without the fear of being attacked directly after. Her body began to relax, and the adrenaline was slowly slipping away. Fatigue was like a weary stream, slowly seeping through the cracks and weighing her small frame down. But before she could fall, her body trembled. She was fearless at that moment, and the weather was hot and humid. So what made her shiver? It was the force of her will fighting off the laughter of the demons within.

Bah, I knew she would do nothing!
Nahhhhhh, give it a second!
She has to if she wants to sleep, for once..
She’s too soft, she’s too SOOOFT! We need to take over and do it ourselves!
That’d be too many hands on one wheel dipsh--

Suddenly they were hushed when Shimree’s body collapsed. She huffed with agitation, silencing them enough to get a moment’s peace. Her eyes however loomed like a ghost, watching the lion as he watched her. As if their eyes were in a deadly bind, waiting to strike if need-be. But Shimree didn’t want to harm him. Not unless he wanted to harm her first. “You’ll just have to wait, Memnoch.. This one is not ripe..”

My name is Dakarai, and I mean you no harm.

The silence was broken, her body jutted. That was not a demon. A demon would never introduce itself, would it?? Confused, Shimree quickly rose and shuffled slightly in her place, tilting her head from left to right like a curious dog enticed by unseen words. She could hear them, they could hear them. But could this Dakarai hear the demons, she wondered? Before she could even think to respond, the demons reacted violently!

Zeeeh!? Who was that?
I dunno, it wasn’t one of us. Couldn’t be!
Nah it was that guy! He can hear us! HEY
YE-HEY! Bugger off! This is our vessel!
YEAH! Don’t make me come after you!
GRRRR! Get out of here!

Their voices began to grow louder and louder, forcing her ears to rotate every-which-way. They were agitated! And yet, Dakarai did nothing. Was he unafraid of their threats? Shimree was unsure. Maybe he couldn’t hear them at all. Maybe the connection wasn’t strong enough. It might have been best for that as well. Shimree ducked her head eventually and shook it wildly, flapping her ears like the wings of a bat slapping her face, just to silence the demons within. And once they were drowned out, Shimree opened her maw and questioned.

“Was that you, just now, in my head? Is your name Dakarai?”

[twist-of-fate-16]

She was upset, he could tell. Most were, when he invaded their most private fortress and forced his thoughts upon them. She flapped her large ears back and forth, looking angry, and he took a step backward. Perhaps it hadn't been the wisest idea, not with this one. She was too unpredictable.

"Is your name Dakarai?" Came the wavering question. He blinked, torn between running and staying. If he answered, it may only agitate her more. Yet if he ran, she might give chase, and he didn't want to risk it. Not with her.

"Yes. I am Dakarai. I'm sorry if I startled you. It's the only way my voice can be heard."

He sighed, and considered his name. Rejoice, it meant. So his father had told him in the pridelands, before the raid. He was meant to bring joy to them all, to teach them unconventionality and how to talk without speaking. He was gift, they had said. A gift from God. Where is God now? He asked the sky fiercely. So much pain, so much loss. There was no joy anymore.

He laid down in the grass without a regard to the other lioness, who was still staring at him, and put his head on his paws.

Come what may.

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