Fight Until Your Last Breath.

[dean-in-covaire]

The muttered German brings a small smile to his lips as he reads the book in his hands. The human still can’t understand what he says when he speaks his native language but he likes the way it sounds coming from him. The smile grows at the touch along his ankle though still takes in the written words… at least until it’s taken and those lips are gentle against his own.

"But I’m almost done with it…", he replies back against Kronus’ lips, soft hands at the side of his face as he leaves little kisses there. "You’ve got me in the best shape I’ve ever been in, even when I was playing sports. I’m not getting sickly." But he knows already that he won’t win this.

"Wherever I want…" He nuzzles in close, nipping at the side of his master’s warm jaw as he thinks about where he wants to go, and speaks up in a soft hum. "The beach and coves."

[verlorxein-blog]

“You can finish later,” the wolf offered quietly. For now he is content in leaning into the quiet affection the human has to offer him upon the couch. Despite how the logic in the boy’s words, Kronus sees no reason why they should stay inside when the sunlight was pouring in from outside, a tempting warmth along the wooden floors at his feet. Something akin to a pleased growl slips free as he gathers the boy up into his arms with practiced ease.

“The beach?” There is rare humor in the wolf’s voice as he leans in, capturing soft lips easily with a hum. Cradling the boy closer, he returns each nuzzle and begins to walk towards the bedroom regardless of his words. “Good. We will go to the beach after we pack,” Kronus murmurs against Dean’s lips, nipping lightly before laying the boy out upon the sheets.

A smile lingers.

“You are overdressed for the coves.”

[glennlyonn]

As the older wolf steps on his pencil, it takes everything in him to contain the growl of annoyance, though he can’t stop his eyes from flashing gold, even if it’s only for a split second. Biel’s words of being respectful ring in his mind, but part of him wants to eat the liver of the wolf in front of him just as badly as the older man wants to do to him. 

Two can play at this game.

So he sits down, leaning back in his chair, arms across his chest, and he stares at the other. “I’m patient.”

[verlorxein-blog]

A brow is raised and Kronus regards the little wolf quietly. Did the boy not understand he was an extension of his master? Did he not understand the weight that came with that responsibility? Apparently not if his actions are any indication. So the wolf bends low to scoop up the pencil to toy with it between his fingers.

“I’m not.”

So now the wolf smiles, a terse little thing that vanishes quickly.

“Hold out your hand.”

[orion-kallistosx]

He hadn’t seen the Master since the last time they’d crossed paths. And unfortunately, couldn’t help but stare as he’d gone into the Cafe, looking for a quick stop to grab a meal. At the words of the older wolf, the one he so easily gravitated to, he sat. “My apologies, sir… I hadn’t meant to disturb you.” He offered politely. “I hope I haven’t offended.”

[verlorxein-blog]

“Orion.”

The greeting is brief and he tries not to show his disgust at the new scent of something dead, something cold, hanging upon the pup. No doubt the one whom claimed Orion before he could toy with the notion was a vampire. A shame really, he muses as a smile comes easily. Dean would have liked this one. The pair of them might have been close and the human would have a protector when Kronus was away in the woods hunting.

“No offense at all. Make it up by sharing a meal with me.”

[ezra-hemlock]

His eyes do not wander from the wolf before him. Ezra had always been observant, he had to be, it helped him before to predict his foe’s behavior, now it helps to assess the people who approach his cage. But he’s finding it difficult to read into the steady features that break into a low smile. Eyebrows remain furrowed, his expression harsh despite the subtle grin. The mutt isn’t entirely sure what he’s said to provoke it, but safe to say, he’d have to be a fool to trust a smile around here.

"Ezra Hemlock," he simply replies, matching the other’s gaze.

[verlorxein-blog]

This one was clever. He knows not to look away or show fear. He knows when to speak and how to speak. It is the trait of a survivor. Something he himself knows intimately despite how he now carries himself. Stepping closer, he reaches out as the boy speaks, giving him precisely what he was asked for. Another trait many lacked. They wasted breath on questions not asked or in pleas unbidden.

Calloused fingers smooth down the curve of the delicate neck.

“Ezra Hemlock,” the wolf replies quietly and leans in, nearly breathing the other’s air as his own. A feeling, an age old instinct, cannot help but feel this man will say or do anything to survive. Kronus’ hand feels comfortable about Ezra’s throat.

“Come.”

There is no fear. The wolf is satisfied as his grip goes slack and he turns on his heel, walking away back towards his home.

[verlorxein-blog]

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With so many eyes, of course Kronus falls to old ways. It’s simpler to merely meet those curious eyes with his own in a terse stare. Words were a waste of breathe that the wolf was not interested in partaking just yet.

[verlorxein-blog]

[gexlaufen]

Brother // Wolfram & Kronus

    It had been a clandestine accident that he’d even caught the scent. The wind had blown just the right way at just the right time. Wolfram had nearly drowned, so struck by the scent he’d forgotten he sank like a rock when he didn’t actively swim. There was something about that scent, though, which was gone by the time he’d made it to shore. It smelled like…it couldn’t be. It smelled like the hills he’d grown up in, like the pelts he’d tanned himself, the rains on the plains outside his village, but there was something about it, something changed.

     There was no way it could have been someone he’d known—most of the tribe had been slaughtered, and the few who had remained…the hope that surged in his chest had to have been false, and he ignored it best he could, but as he investigated the island, it intrigued him. A city where wolves and vampires coexisted somewhat peacefully? Where they needn’t hide what they are? After the audience with the Alpha, pledging his fealty like he had so many times before, he found a modest home near the woods, and the scent was so overpowering he could not deny it any longer.

     He had to meet whoever it was, hoping against hope that his nose was playing tricks on him. It couldn’t be him, there was simply no way, no matter how strong he’d been, how powerful a warrior, two thousand years…it couldn’t be. Wolfram’s hand stilled before knocking on the door. What would he say to this mysterious person that smelled like home, even two thousand years after it had existed? Tribal traditions he hadn’t thought about in so long surfaced, should he assert his dominance? Fight the source of the scent? His hand curled into a fist as he determined what to do, rapping knuckle against wood in a stiff staccato, squaring his shoulders.

[verlorxein-blog]

The taste of his human lingers on his breath. Dean is pliant and asleep on the sheets when he rises to head into the kitchen. Satiated and content are two things he never considered himself being in a long time as he pours himself a glass of water with a heavy sigh. A lot has weighed upon him in the time he has stayed here, since giving his blood bond to the Alpha of the city. The desire to leave, to move onward for an unseen desire to wander least the past catch up with him. Or perhaps it is from the need to punish himself for being happy for the first time in thousands of years.

From here he can hear Dean’s heartbeat, just a gentle pitter patter.

Swallowing down half that glass slowly, there’s another sound he hears encroaching on the way to the edge of his house. Old habits die hard, curling hotly at his chest as he palms a blade from the kitchen. Slipping out the back is easy and to any who did not know him they would mistake the scent and pulse lingering heavily as his own. It would be jarring, certainly, but it was a practiced art of defense. Something learned from the gauntlet when mere brute force would not solve the problem at hand.

As the knocks echo out upon the front door, the blade is pressed against the intruder’s throat from the shadows. The scent is at first assumed to be traces of his own. Yet there is something in the stance that rings familiar. Kronus’ grip loosens and his gaze lingers not on the person as a whole but small little things, like a scar at the man’s cheek and the way his eyes look at the corners. A moment lingers on and with hesitance, Kronus reaches out and cards his fingers through the wolf’s hair, thumb brushing strands away from his temple with a cold feeling settling in his gut.

By the gods he hopes he’s wrong—

Yet there it is, something from childhood by his own hand from training too roughly. Breath catches in his throat and slowly the blade is lowered.

“Löwe.”

[verlorxein-blog]

Awwww shit, little brother is here.

[verlorxein-blog]

[glennlyonn]

Glenn stared long and hard at the Master. It was the grumpy wolf who made him beg for his life. Snorting, he pointed to the pencil he’d dropped, that had, of course, rolled under the other’s chair. At the very least, he had a collar to protect him this time around. 

Without even acknowledging the threat, he sighed. “That’s my pencil. Can you please get it for me?”

[verlorxein-blog]

Ah, the little shit of a wolf who'd trespassed on his land. He has half a mind to continue where he left off. Instead of paring knife however, he'd use the dull butter knife at his wrist upon the table. Perhaps it'd make more of a point. At the boy's request, he chances a glance down towards the ground where in fact the pencil is.

The most he does is move his foot so it's caught under a booted heel.

"No."

[verlorxein-blog]

"Wenig Liebe, müssen Sie draußen mehr zu bekommen." The wolf murmurs the words with a certain tenderness. Fingertips skate along the boy's ankle and his eyes linger overlong upon the human's face. Finally he simply plucks the novel away and tosses it aside before bending over and stealing a soft kiss. "You'll turn pale and sickly if you stay inside much longer," Kronus says agains the warmth of those lips with a hint of laughter.

"Come, we go where you please."

[defiantpup-lexington-deactivate]

After trying to determine his grounds and where exactly in the city he was, Lex turned his eye on the other wolf. Narrowing his gaze a bit as the Master came closer. Taking a step back if he came too close as he didn’t like being sniffed after. Even if the man looked like the tall, rugged, ‘kill first, ask later’ type that usual drew him in. He wasn’t his Master and there for Lex held no interest in climbing this tree. Well…maybe a little interest but none he would put to words or dwell on. With a cock of his brow he folded his arms over his chest, "Old enough to know not to take candy from strangers. So before you ask, no I do not want to get in your van, mister." Figure of speech.

[verlorxein-blog]

"So you're ignorant as well as disrespectful."

The words are spoken like an after-thought. Kronus does not need to be close to catch his scent, to know who this boy is and who holds his collar. "It must be a family trait," the wolf states calmly as he circles the young pup with calm steps, eying him as an animal would it's prey. Each word uttered only cements that fact in his mind. The boy talks like a human, like one of the countless meat bags that crossed his path often than he'd like.

A muscle jumps at his jaw.

The boy's tongue would make a nice trophy.

[verlorxein-blog]

"You presume I won't merely rip your throat out for intruding."

The wolf gestures to the chair before him with a deceptive smile. Despite the cafe being full and despite how the wolf was waiting for his human, now there was someone here. Perhaps he could chase them off with kindness thinly veiled with a promise to eat their liver.

It always seemed to work.

Perhaps the intruder would somehow, miraculously, entertain him.

"Sit or leave."

[alaricsinclair-deactivated20150]

"I want you, now! "

[verlorxein-blog]

“Then bend over.”

It wasn’t that he was slighted for company. No, he had his human back home waiting for him. Dean was all he needed but there were times— Well there was a certain brand of agitation that surfaced when people, civilians and slaves, began to act presumptuous. So soon after the man’s words slip free, hands none too gently shove the man up against the nearest alley wall. Pushing the human’s head against the brick, the wolf is at his back breathing down his neck.

If only he were hungry.

There would be nothing left but a few bones by the time he finished. Instead he can satiate himself on the warmth of fresh skin unviolated by violence or bruises. Something he seeks to change quickly as he catches the man’s hands beneath his own, pinning them to the wall above his head.

“Unless you’re a liar,” the wolf growls low at the shell of the man’s ear. In the dark he smiles slowly, just a slow feral display of canines as his hand smoothes along the small of the man’s back to boldly palm his ass. It would not be the first time he’s had someone beg him to stop and plead for him to reconsider. Few often realized the weight of words nor how literal he took them.

“I want to hear you scream.”

[ezra-hemlock]

A dry laugh, “I’m not the easiest slave,” the implication is there, true enough  when in distasteful company Ezra would make sure to make the remainder of the evening just as desired. He was a lot to handle, if not just because of his stubbornness, than the emotional baggage he carried. It was more than most could carry. A sharp stare is sent the strangers way as he leans against his cell, though he’s almost amused when he calls him human. If only. "To others its a nuisances. Damn me, for making it this far."

[verlorxein-blog]

“Few are.”

The implication is one Kronus has found often rings true with most if not all the slaves in Covaire. They were broken, shattered, and shadowed little creatures. Yet there were a rare few that drew the wolf’s attention. This one, the redhead with a Irish slur to his words, Jodelle, Orion, and Dean were the only few that had kept his temper from flaring irrationally.

Now he smiles, brief and slow as it is.

“Tell me your name.”

[lorcanthropy]

Mal did his best to block out all the other scents around him, focusing only on the wolf in front of him. He smelled old, better than a fine wine, and twice as strong, definitely something intriguing about him. He had the dark mysterious thing down pat, and all Mal could think about was whether or not this one would be the type who ever shared his stories. His scent vaguely reminded him of some of the Italian mobsters he’d met in his days with the Irish Mob in New York, and it made him wonder if he were Roman or something, with that age radiating off of him.

The hand at his throat, the growl from the other wolf’s lips, and Mal goes still. Not in submission, but because he’s not an idiot. His smirk is ever-present, though, as he looks the wolf in the eye. “All right. An’ how would I go about doin’ that, then?” The power that fills the space between them keeps him from assigning the usual ‘mate’ to the end of that sentence.

[verlorxein-blog]

It’s as if he can see the words, the very feel of those thoughts as they cross through the younger wolf’s mind. Kronus does not smile, does not betray his own thoughts as he merely observes that which is before him. The boy smells familiar in a sense that he has crossed the source of it once before. It is comforting as it is intriguing and Kronus lets his grip go slack slowly.

“You earn it.”

Letting go, he does not speak further nor utter any help whatsoever. The young wolf must figure it out on his own by his own terms. Simple as that. Kronus offered no shortcuts to anyone, not even one as intriguing as the pup before him. For now, he allows the boy to speak and to draw breath. It is nothing short of a privilege.

[orion-kallistosx]

The hand on his chin brings his gaze up, and he mets the wolf’s eyes nodding. Something about the wolf has him calmer than any other wolf to come to his cell. It has to be the age, and though he doesn’t know it yet, he knows he’s much older than most of the elders in his pack back home. There’s an internal bred respect for that. “I can wait, sir. Patience will have to do.” His voice is calm and certain in that, he’s got a thirst to know more. Even if he doesn’t understand where it’s coming from.

[verlorxein-blog]

“Good boy.”

There is a brief smile given. Just a flicker of emotion for the boy to go off of. Kronus offers little else as he examines the pup quietly. It is always so peculiar as it is intriguing to watch the younger wolves either panic or calm when he draws near. Few, like the Alpha he was sworn to fight for, were unaffected by his presence. Straightening upright, he regards the young wolf with a raised brow.

“And what of you, pup? What do you see?”

It is carefully spoken. Carefully worded.