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Post by Squeeble. on Dec 22, 2007 10:32:34 GMT -5
 The cement factory's floor was sticky with dust and mildew, but the slight femme did not seem to notice the dirt. She was only a young woman, unconcerned with the dirt that coated her and unconcerned with the dangerousness of the place she was exploring. Dangerous structurally, dangerous otherwise. Rape was a prime possibility here, but strangely enough, the idea did not bother Salire at all. She was an experienced femme, not only for her age but for all of womankind. She'd known a few men in her short life. At least five.
Her pointy, highly defined nostrils expanded and contracted with the different scents of the musky place she now inhabited, and her distressed tail hung limply at her haunches. She had no reason to hold it proud, no one to impress by doing so. The lady was attractive and she knew it; what else did she need? A man or two, no pups and some food. Life was good for the alaskan malamute.
Difficultly enough, a scent troubled her nostrils and unheard noises teased her attentive ears. She could not fathom what kind of a canine held this much stealth, this much prowess of stalking, but she was intrigued as well as annoyed. Intrigued, for she wished to learn the secret of stealth, as she wished to learn everything; annoyed, because she was automatically repelled by anything better than her. It was a crude, primordial instinct, to hate the strong, but one that she followed to a 't'. She was not about to go against instinct, after all. That was just blasphemous, and besides, instinct, for Salire, almost always proved correct.
Almost. |
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Post by ! LEXAKAE on Dec 22, 2007 15:15:59 GMT -5
 we are one, we are NAZI Gracefulness tortured the mutt body of the brute as he went along the sidewalks of Vann City. This was his home, he supposed, and there laid his pack of which he conquered so greatly. So fabulous he was as he strutted with his head and tassle held high, making an obviously dominant impression on the world around him. He was the conquerer. Only Nazi ruled with such high end class that not even the most high rank military officer could obtain. He was the General of Combatant. Harks were pricked forward as the brindle brute took a sharp turn into the lot of an interesting seeming building. He ruled. Nazi was unsure of what exactly sparked his interest with the cement factory. He was Nazi.
Sturdy paws carried the almost large sized brute onto the unpaved lot that was littered with spray paint cans and gravel. He stopped for a moment, taking in the sight of the cement factory before setting off once more in a fine trot. One that seemed to be of a show dog's, except with a dominance that couldn't seem to be compared to. Basenji harks kept forward attentively, he was wandering on ground that wasn't his and nor did it seem to be anyone elses' but it held the possibility of an ambush amongst the infamous brute. At the moment he doubted anyone would take the action. He was in a good mood, for once, and just felt like wandering around Vann City as he had before he had conquered the Abandoned Farm - where he now lived and owned.
As he pondered through the factory, he had turned into a spontaneous room and had spotted a husky femme. She was gorgeous, that factor had gone undoubted. With rather strategic stealth, he leapt up onto a high ledge. The entire room seemed to be drenched in long dried cement, and he found it to be a rather settling enviroment. Harks peeled back, his brindle coat barely blended with the shadows of the room. A smile danced onto his jowls when she had seemed to notice his presence, but not anything else of him. With this, he gave up his game and sled down along a slope of cement, his thick layers of padding on his paws barely being effected by the grungyness of the slope. "Well, well. What do we have here?" His dark, low voice rumbled softly in an upmost teasing tone. "A pretty lil' lady pondering around in an old factory?" He questioned with sarcasm, a cruel grin on his powerful jaws that had won him many battles. "I'd never expect to see such a sight.." He drawled, circling around her until he reached her front. |
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Post by Squeeble. on Dec 23, 2007 0:24:13 GMT -5
Her head snapped to attention and she instinctively lifted her curling jowels at the creature that now stood, unexpectedly, before her. She could not help herself. No sound was emitted from her already too tensed throat, and she surveyed her new 'opponent' warily. A few moments afterwards, when she had finally assured herself that the male meant no bad ill, that he meant not to physically harm her, at least not in a ripping and tearing way, she visibly relaxed.
She did not speak until after he had spoken, and before her speech came a tiny smirk appeared on her angular face. She took him in again, slowly, her eyes trailing along him and sticking to the err, broader, bits of him. She let her smirk widen, as though she could not help herself, he was just too cute. It was just an act; she had pulled it many times on many dogs, and it had also worked many times on many dogs. She was a practised playgirl. It was not her fault. It was simply a fate that had been plucked out of a hat in her early life.
Expect it, hon, and can I say I didn't expect to see a strong looking man around here either... I guess it's just a lucky day.
Her drawling voice was filled with mystery as well as potential; potential for a good time, potential for a bad time. It was potential for everything, for anything, for nothing at all.
It was potential for Salire. [/blockquote] |
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