[i]I've been told time and time again that I'm nothing but a witch bitch, take a knife, watch it flash, leave you lying in an alley with a gash. Killing, lilting, then killing again, it's like a mantra--it plays its own chorus, in the wind, it dances to its own melody. Killing is not just an asset in my life, its what makes me feel whole, I've come to the realization that being an in-the-closet murderer is where I truly belong. Shit, I've seen things--terrible, horrible, and cruel things, but you'll never guess what I did to those whom belittle me. Things I do, probably scare you, but isn't that just the beginning of a fairytale? A fucked up, sick, demented fairytale? Truth be told, they call me the big bad wolf. Remember that story, the folklore about the boy who cried wolf, well come to think of it--you're the boy and I'm the wolf, I'll kill you and eat your raw.

Can you hear them?

They're loud.. they want me to harm you, kill you, devour you. These urges, I cannot resist, never have I been one to flaunt about my abnormal condition, it haunts me and still -- my consciousness rears her ugly head in hope that one day I will succumb to the darkness that envelopes my person. I fear these voices, I fear they will open a door, one that I've kept closed since my last little relapse with bloodline, a time filled with blood and seared flesh--I could still smell burning epithelium, it was so, intoxicating.. I forgot how it felt to truly kill, how it felt to bathe in the blood of my victims. They used to call me Jack, [b]'Jack the Ripper', because of my ways of dismembering the innocent and dissecting the living with hearts beating still, I used to be what children call now.. a nightmare, either in your dreams or in the flesh, I wasn't picky. I preyed off your demise and how much you quaked in fear at the sound of my name. It fueled me, made me a better killer, a better leader. But, I try to suppress those urges, finding it hard now to bring myself to relive those dark days, albeit a part of me yearns for the toxins of one's salty sanguine fluid on my taste-buds. The voices surely do aid in that memoir.

A breathy exhale escaped the chest cavity of the Heda with a distinct rise and fall gently disturbing red silken, armored dress. Her journey across Elysium halted for the well-earned moment of leisure upon a the simple fact that she had to lead her pack to the sacred cove, a place where Feonix and Nirrith meet to discuss exports and imports. Who would take what? What would they bargain? What materials needed filled? How much silver or gold coins will they offer? Or even horses that her pack takes pride in breeding, would she have to exchange a few hooves for more fruit and vegetables? Maybe even exchange the horses for better clothes, knowing the Nirrithian women were skilled with needle and thread. Things are the things that wen through her head while coming upon the entrance to the stone-columned palace. The sacred cove wasn't just a "cove", it was built from pristine white rock, one's that could withstand even the craziest of winters and the harshest of storms. A building that lay its roots in the center of a mountain top, surrounded by a shallow pool of sparkling tide. It was a beautiful sight to lay witness too.

Close encounters taught vigilance, and ever so often a single emerald eye glimpsed through a cracked eyelid seeking a source of disturbance heard over the sound of avian pests screeching their spawning songs. Tatiana was known to thrive once dusk crept up against the silhouette of the countryside and bystanders would confirm the woman's nightly traipse, seeking whispers like a spider on the hunt. She felt like a primal animal, stalking its prey as she rode sattle-back upon a gorgeous black frieisan stallion, her body swayed to and fro with each step the massive creature took. Her name coming down to lightly pat the side of his large neck, smirking slightly at the sound of his gentle snorts. IF she had any say in it, this particular horse was not for sale.

"We're almost there!" Tati would thus call over her shoulder, the heels of her shoes driving into the horses side, feeling the surge of his power begin to increase as she urges him to speed up. She wanted to clearly get there before Jamison did with his pack, the urgency of being first was unknown to her, she just felt like arriving earlier than usual.

Ballant disregard toward the situation at hand, she arrived on time, and as she hoped for--the first to meet. Her pack was trailing behind, they too disliked traveling across the land just to discuss things that seemed useless.. but they weren't; even Tatiana knew this. With a carriage drug at the back of the pack the Heda would dismount her steed, reaching up the back of the saddle to pull out her sword just to stealth it in the holster on her hip. She was accustomed to bringing this blood-tainted blade where she went, whether it be to go scout the kingdom grounds or to the next room of her palace.. it was a habit, one she dared never break.

Now, the blonde temptress moved to her carriage, one that held weapons, armor, food and other materials that the Nirrith may trade there items with the ones Feonix provided with every visit. "Remove the cover, count the inventory, make sure it's all there, I better not have lost any on our way up the mountain.. If you need me, I'll be at the table." Table, it was a certain place inside the large building where position of authority would sit and discuss their deals, or demands. Tatiana burst through the doors of the meeting hall, walking around the circular table to take a seat at the head as she places her elbows on the thrush of its wooden surface, face falling into the palm of her hands--eyes closing for a brief moment to gather her thoughts.

"Listen to me."

"And what would we offer them?" Jamison had asked that question to himself over and over, there were many supplies he could offer in exchange for more food or perhaps horses. What he needed was land and power. He was a relaxed man, but as Kalin he had a lot of responsibilities. Times were easier when he was still a child with no responsibilities hanging over his shoulders. Even now, he ordered his pack to continue on for the exchange of trade with Tatianna. The she-devil herself. His own mate stood rode next to him, a smile brightly showing on her face. Beautiful as the sun in the morning. She was his everything. Jamison touched her hand and she looked to him the trouble look on her face washed away when he made contact with her. "We'll be to the Table soon and there you may rest."

She only snorted and glared at him, "I'm not any pregnant lass." She stated defiantly. "But you're mine-- and I need you safe." He responded sternly before he looked behind him at the rest of the group. He was sure they would be alright, perhaps they would open bottles of wine to sooth their troubled looks. He was an Alpha who led sternly-- but not without a little fun. He liked the festivals and often would create small ones just to have an excuse to open more wine. His mate, Aya, would always stop him from doing foolish things. He had wanted to burn a hay figure of a God once, but she had pulled him by his ear and told him he was an idiot and that argument settled all on its own. Hey may have been pack leader-- but he was nothing without his Aya.

His eyes wandered back to the pack and even spotted Absinthe and he gave her a small wink. She was going to be a wonderful leader one day, and though he teased her like any father would-- he needed to prepare her for what the life of a leader looked like. And that was talking to Tatianna. Blood thirsty viper lady, He'd go no where near her if she had the choice-- and if it weren't for Aya telling him to grow up just a little bit. No matter how much he complained he had to act his age and become a leader the rest of the pack could look up to.

Getting comfortable on the brown stallion he road, he gave a little grunt when the sacred covan came into view and he stopped his horse. Boy oh boy, was he excited. He should take things seriously especially when it came to their rivals,
but he had many things to offer and had been practicing what he would have to say. Perhaps even open a bottle of wine-- at the thought of wine his wife seemed to have heard him and slapped his thigh. He gave her an innocent look and addressed his pack, "Get yourselves settled. Don't worry about anything, but keep a watchful eye on those Feonix bastards." And made his way down the hall.

He was confident in his skills with a sword, and always made sure he had daggers with him just in case. Dueling a single 2 handed sword at his pack he would make for a rather sore enemy if he were to get angry which he normally kept at bay. At least that was with his pack, but with the woman he beheld in the Hall he became sour. Making a face at her he became the serious Alpha he was born to be. "Well. Aren't you looking as lovely as every, ay?" He stated his back straightened, and his strides were powerful. He could go from friendly to enemy real quick and in this situation he would rather get this all over with so he can get back swooning his lovely wife indeed.    He slammed his hand on Fin's back, "You have the right idea, man. Let's get this over with so we can all have something hot to eat tonight. I have a woman to please." The childish grin ruptured on his face, it was hard to be the rough man he tried to portray to Feonix and he settled in at one of the heads of the table. He would get this over with eventually.