Post by ladyrileylupus on Nov 28, 2003 21:45:55 GMT -5
She never spoke about family mainly because that would give them a hint she was not telling them her true name. She never got close, not even to the Pack. She was a loner through and through there was no doubting it. Her one reason for keeping her blood lust more on the surface was people needed, wanted that more than her sexual desire. Even violence was sexual in nature, and she was the embodiment of it all.
Laying there on the hill top in her werewolf form, as one clawed paw touched the earth, the other on her furry leg bent in that odd way of a canine. The night had been sweet, after that out break of Jean-Claude's incubus and her beast wanting to rise, to taste blood. She had left, oh the sweet pleasure, the rippling pain of shifting had been harmonious and horrifying. Releasing her from that shell of a human into that intimidating form of a werewolf who could shift back without collapsing. No one knew.
But then again no one knew much about her, she felt the wind brushing through her dark furry body as both claws touched the ground. Talons digging into the earth as she lifted a paw holding the clump in her grasp as she let the dirt slide through her fingers watching the wind blow, showing its direction. She knew it was time for her to take on last glance at her past.
She had been quite sexual back then, having someone to share it with. Amber eyes shifted a bit as the memory came back.
"Daryl, you know I love you."
"But what Bell? I know you're gonna say something." The tall dark and handsome Indian man stood there, a hand on that half packed suitcase.
"But this is what I'm good at, this is my skill. I can't give up Bounty Hunting because you can't deal with it that I like to kill."
"You kill for money."
"No, I kill people who hurt and molest children and women. There's a difference."
"Then why do you keep the money?"
"I have to make a living out of something I like, I won't go back to the streets. I was raised there, I will not sell my body."
"I wasn't asking that, why not be a waitress? Look, Bell, I love you but this is my last draw. It is either your killing or I. Which will it be?"
She stood there in shock of it all, eyes widened a bit as she couldn't move. She couldn't admit her other reason was the beast. She had been a werewolf for more than 3 months, never known anything of a pack. She watched her one true love finish packing after she began wordless and finally heard the slamming of the door. Frozen. Cold. Barren. That night she cried for the last time she would ever let emotion, love, to hurt her deep inside.
Maysa turned her head to the ground as a tear ran down that muzzle as she picked up another clump of dirt. The ground slid between her fingers, as the wind was the same then suddenly shifted. She watched and smiles creeped up her furry lips. It was time, time to change; time to live again.
Her paw dropped to her side as she stood on those strong hind legs as her head tilted to the sky as those lips parted. Her song, her howl was the best in any pack as she sang to the moon. A werewolf that was in hearing distance would hear it. It was calm, vibrant with life and so beautiful. Anyone within a 5-mile radius would hear her howl. Tonight Maysa would start her quest; for a mate.
Laying there on the hill top in her werewolf form, as one clawed paw touched the earth, the other on her furry leg bent in that odd way of a canine. The night had been sweet, after that out break of Jean-Claude's incubus and her beast wanting to rise, to taste blood. She had left, oh the sweet pleasure, the rippling pain of shifting had been harmonious and horrifying. Releasing her from that shell of a human into that intimidating form of a werewolf who could shift back without collapsing. No one knew.
But then again no one knew much about her, she felt the wind brushing through her dark furry body as both claws touched the ground. Talons digging into the earth as she lifted a paw holding the clump in her grasp as she let the dirt slide through her fingers watching the wind blow, showing its direction. She knew it was time for her to take on last glance at her past.
She had been quite sexual back then, having someone to share it with. Amber eyes shifted a bit as the memory came back.
~~*~~
"Daryl, you know I love you."
"But what Bell? I know you're gonna say something." The tall dark and handsome Indian man stood there, a hand on that half packed suitcase.
"But this is what I'm good at, this is my skill. I can't give up Bounty Hunting because you can't deal with it that I like to kill."
"You kill for money."
"No, I kill people who hurt and molest children and women. There's a difference."
"Then why do you keep the money?"
"I have to make a living out of something I like, I won't go back to the streets. I was raised there, I will not sell my body."
"I wasn't asking that, why not be a waitress? Look, Bell, I love you but this is my last draw. It is either your killing or I. Which will it be?"
She stood there in shock of it all, eyes widened a bit as she couldn't move. She couldn't admit her other reason was the beast. She had been a werewolf for more than 3 months, never known anything of a pack. She watched her one true love finish packing after she began wordless and finally heard the slamming of the door. Frozen. Cold. Barren. That night she cried for the last time she would ever let emotion, love, to hurt her deep inside.
~~*~~
Maysa turned her head to the ground as a tear ran down that muzzle as she picked up another clump of dirt. The ground slid between her fingers, as the wind was the same then suddenly shifted. She watched and smiles creeped up her furry lips. It was time, time to change; time to live again.
Her paw dropped to her side as she stood on those strong hind legs as her head tilted to the sky as those lips parted. Her song, her howl was the best in any pack as she sang to the moon. A werewolf that was in hearing distance would hear it. It was calm, vibrant with life and so beautiful. Anyone within a 5-mile radius would hear her howl. Tonight Maysa would start her quest; for a mate.