“A beast does not know that he is a beast. And the nearer a man gets to being a beast, the less he knows it.”
-George MacDonald
That small voice within the back of the rage desperately fought to hear Isolde's words, to feel her. RUN! he called to her in their shared link before the worgen paused his lumberjack attempt on the tree Isolde had taken refuge in and shook his head with a low, growling whine.
Lochlan vanished beneath the fury, the worgen eyeing Isolde in the branches. Powerful hind legs crouched, muscles bunched before springing upwards, launching the beast into the branches with a roar of victory, digging his claws into the first few branches and lashing out and up towards Isolde with a vicious swipe. RUN PLEASE!! that small voice cried out again, forcing the worgen to pause once more, to be able to think, to push his soul back.
((Below the cut is a story collaboratively written by myself and Lochlan. Rich in development for the couple. Two souls warring with the other. It is a bit longer than my usual posts. I hope you enjoy.))
The tree shuddered harshly and Isolde wrapped her arms around the bark, clinging to it fiercely to steady herself as it slowed it’s swaying. Her breathing had become punitive for a split moment before her heart sank at hearing Lochlan within he mind, begging her to run. He sounded so... far away. So desperate.
The beast was attacking the tree, a slow lumberjacking of the trunk that would threaten to fall if she wasn't quick. She began springing from limb to limb, and then he was up there with her. Isolde was like a precarious feline, crouched low on the bow, walking backwards, hands steadying out on other limbs as they ebbed and swayed.
She looked behind her a mere moment, and as she did, the slash came through, but she was quick.... though not quick enough. Two of his claws had caught her armor and ripped her thigh open in a superficial wound. A searing pain lit her up and she hissed only briefly. Isolde whirled, somehow having her grappling hook in hand now as she sprang from one limb to another tree all together, the hook shooting out and catching into the trunk as she swung like Tarzan to the other tree. Once more, she disappeared in to the bows.
But the scent of her life force would likely drive the beast wild. I will not leave you, she grit out harshly in her mind, though there was a deep undertone of sadness and desperation. Come back to me. Please.
Blood! Lochlan howled, a terrifying, deep, resonating sound that sang of a kill to come. Glowing, orange eyes watched his prey soar away on a line, vanishing within the branches of another tree.
If it hadn't been for the black and red armor he was wearing, with its chain mail shirt beneath, the beast that had become Lochlan would have blended into the shadows, the darkness. Even now the armor looked like a spirit wore it, only bright eyes floating above it and the occasional flash of teeth revealing the wolf in the shadows.
The worgen slid back within the branches, pressing to the trunk before springing forward. The air shattered with the sounds of branches breaking as he suddenly threw his weight back against the trunk. The tree swayed forward, then dipped back in a deep bend before swinging forward once more. Lochlan waited into he felt the pressure of the swing before using the trees momentum with his own and launching into the air.
Snap! Crack! Snap!
Lochlan landed in a spray of leaves and wood, thick fur and armor protecting himself from most of the scratches as he looked for Isolde, though he could hear her voice within his mind. Lochlan felt her sadness, her pain and desperation. She had told him once he was stronger now than he had ever been...
The wolf within rose, not with snapping teeth or taking claws, but instead with soothing calm.
The worgen had spotted Isolde just above him, was readying to leap and snare her, when he suddenly shuddered, orange eyes gaining the familiar ice blue ring around his pupil.
Lochlan twisted mid leap, snarling in confused agitation until he dropped, crashing through several branches and scrabbling desperately until he caught a grip with his claws.
No! he told that part of himself. You are mine now.
I will not leave you. I WILL NOT LEAVE YOU! she shouted out in her mind, her breathing actually starting to pick up erratically. He had been showing no signs of slowing, of relenting. But that pause... she caught it, and she watched, panting as she stared with violet hues that were wide, uncertain.
Isolde was certain of many things in her life- she knew Lochlan. But she did not know this creature in his place. She knew he was trapped and he had to overcome, she felt it, deep down she knew. Had witnessed it for herself. Had felt how he had felt, if only for a fraction of a moment when they had shared souls.
Please, come back to me, came her voice within the beasts mind again as soon as she'd witnessed the flash of the blue ring around the orange of his irises, her first clue he was warring within himself. She watched the beast lumber about confused for a moment, pausing , and then twisting, dropping and scraping down the tree as he tried to garner a hold before he slammed to the ground.
Isolde would wait... one, two moments. Maybe three. And then she descended the tree’s trunk, gradually, her eyes never vacillating from his form. She'd make it to the ground, violet hues piercing him... then they shifted slowly to the silver, revealing the ethereal woman he knew. No, he knows!
The husky, exotic accent pleaded in a hoarse whisper, left thigh bleeding more than she'd anticipated, but the pain and burn of the wound would be nothing compared to the one in her heart. "Lochlan, come back to me," her voice echoed out aloud.
The beast was on all fours, hunched over among bracken and destroyed soil. Leaves and twigs protruded from his armor, stuck in his fur, several chunks wedged within flesh, stained red and growing darker as he remained still. Great whuffs of breath blasted the ground beneath him until he began to swing the bulk of his head from side to side, Isolde's voice echoing through the fury.
Lochlan whined, panting, his large ears swiveling back, then forward, hearing her voice in all directions until she spoke aloud. That whine shifted to a building growl, blue and orange eyes rising to stare at her. Blue battled fire as he watched her, ears trained on her. He knew the voice, it's husky, exotic tone sending a tremor through the beast. "Isssssssool.... Issssoooo...." he struggled with a whine, blue briefly dominating until the beast shook his head and snarled.
It happened in the blink of an eye, the worgen lunging suddenly towards her, teeth bared as he aimed to tackle her down, bury her beneath his bulk and find her throat with the kiss of his teeth.
Watching him struggle was one of the hardest things Isolde would have believed possible to ever witness. But she would not fight him, there was no use. It would only serve to fuel his rage further, allowing the beast to be fed further. She was fully armed, lethal. Had the shadows at her beck and call. Could put him down with ease, but she would never use such force with him. But she would not leave him.
Isolde opened herself up, letting him fully feel her love, her adoration, her strength. Pouring into him whatever he allowed. Letting him know she was there. She was not leaving. Silver hues collided with orange and blue. She felt a glimmer of relief when he began to recognize her, and as soon as that glimmer was revealed, it was gone.
Isolde didn't run. She didn't prepare herself. She stared at him, as if the world had slowed, as if nothing else mattered except this one moment. She knew him, knew his heart. Knew his soul.
"Yahf'qov..." she pleaded out once more, a single tear escaping the corner of one eye as she slowly fell to her knees, letting him come at her without any fight. "You have the strength..." came the whisper as she kept her eyes on his warring fire and ice orbs, palms up and to the sides of her body as he charged forward.
The beast slammed to a halt inches before her, maw snarling and snapping closed so close to her nose his breath struck her in a wave of heat and blood. Fire and ice stared at the tear that fell down her pale cheek, large ears up, hearing her whispered words, his name she gave him.
The worgen features contorted in pain, twisting within the throws of a strangled growl until Lochlan dropped his head and snarled once more. He swayed slightly, shaking his head from side to side, his massive form hunkering down to his haunches. Deadly pawish hands clawed and scraped along the thick fur of his head and neck until he unleashed a roaring howl... and curled in on himself, shaking, panting, and finally collapsing into a furry heap at her knees.
The beast lay there, heaving in whooping breaths through his leathery nose, eyes clenched shut as the wolves within him fell, his fury, his anger waning until the fire of his mind sputtered and sniffed out.
"I-Isolde..." he chuffed, voice deep, bestial, but calm. Pale eyes peeled open to look up at her in relief and horror. "My ... white rose..."
(( @waroftwowolves and @anrai-silentcrest since this took place directly after their little adventure.))
