LET ME SEE YOUR TEETH ; open

[fuuuuu- candi!?]

MOON’S AWAKE NOW WITH EYES WIDE OPEN
MY BODY IS CRAVING SO FEED THE HUNGRY
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The wolf ran, her stride long but steady, rough pads sinking into the moist sand at her paws. Her fur rippled as she pushed her muscles to carry her faster, tail lashing out behind her in joy. She loved the run; it was in her blood to chase and to gallop, and she found nothing she enjoyed more. But she legs were protesting, and she slowed gradually, huffing out breathes through her tapered black nose, her mouth falling open. She shook her fur out, raising her head and scenting the air with her delicate senses. The sea smelled particularly good to her like this, as a wolf. When she was human, she never could enjoy it as much. If she was being honest, she could never fully enjoy much of anything as a human. The senses were limited, and her instincts, always so sharp as one of the loup-garou, were diminished.

Her gray wolf-eyes stared out to sea, watching the waves and the rhythm of them. She appreciated it all. Nature was her brother, and her mother. She protected it, and it protected her. She closed her eyes, licking her chops and standing up straighter. Every line on her body tensed, and she looked like a statue carved by the most talented, knowing hand. Opening her eyes, they fell on the full moon, and Ang’s pupils narrowed. Throwing her head back, she howled.

It was music of the night, it was melodious and articulate, feminine and dangerous. She heard the darkness go silent to listen to her song, and she sang on, pride of what she was. The moon’s silver light glinted off the tips of her lighter golden brown fur, and she looked like the dire wolves of old; fierce and magnificent. Nothing could defeat her, nothing would diminish her elegance and grace. Nothing was more beautiful than she! Nothing! Her howl fell down an octave before fading away, and she danced on nibble paws, full of excitement.

Suddenly, she took off running once again, paws pouding into the surf. The water splashed up from her, soaking her gold, white, black, and gray coat. She never felt more alive than now.
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status » finished.
occ comments » open :3 I like rping her snotty, conceited self.

[SUBMARiNE"]

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[atrb=background,http://i1222.photobucket.com/albums/dd495/mightykish/sablemiddle.png] Sable knew she could not have dreamt up a more peaceful place… A place where your heart was at rest over the progressing hills of bubbly sea mist as it rolled over the seams and flaws of the sand, just as paw pads tore holes in its moist surface. Only to collect again over the beach shore to wash away the gaps. And it was this, which Sable found herself admiring about the sea; its glittering sparkles as the moonlight shone its bright face over the Brixton Beach shore, lighting her path of glimmering sand as silky as powder. Autumn winds buffeted her golden fur as she cantered along the shore, letting the waves of dark water lap over her ashen paws as she passed. Cool water splashed her fur, leaving spots of dark fur to dot her lanky wolf body. She could not have imagined having come in less than her Lycan form, either. It would have been an insult to the island itself, so many disgusting humans and dragons spilling their filth upon such a beautiful isle; just as they had done one the old world… Ruined it. everything. But Sable would not let it happen again. She’d stop all hope at last, and her Lycanthrope brethren would rule once more. She’d make things right, even on the cost of her life. Otherwise their years were worthless. The lycan efforts were wasted. And they were not more than scratches on the surface of humanity, a lost cause. Sable Francest’s long, wolf legs extended and retracted as she moved. Flesh rippled like liquid steel beneath her riveting gold fur as though she were gracing through air. Radiance laced each long stride as she moved, not allowing room for flaw, as she was a creature of the feral moors; a hellion of her environment. Each progression was an example of her willful rebellion. She did not step on light feet, just as she’d seen the elegant vixens do in their laced dresses and fit bodies… Instead, Sable tore into the earth with the claws and gave grave snarls at the blowing winds. Glowing yellow eyes panned the vista for signs of activity. She’d have preferred something quiet, where she could start up her own music, but anywhere away from humans would have settled over just fine. Splashes erupted like sinking ships as Sable neared. At first it had startled her, because no one stood upon the beach save herself, but then she saw it; the bobbing head of a Lycanthrope as (by the smell) she ran. Ankle deep in the chilled waters, a female of her own species. Sable snarled and tore at the air around her. Maw curled back in a violent scowl as she neared. Her pace became rapid and rushed. Legs clawing quicker to catch ground and pull her closer. She knew that smell… That sweet, wayward ting just off the coast… She knew it too well. But this was not a hostile act, no. Coming within reach, she let her eyes glaze over the feme wolf, sprinting beside her and matching their pace in harmony. When she’d gathered the needed visual information, she offered a demonic grin that seemed etched into her lips. ”Can’t keep my eyes off. You’re far from home, Evangelina. Please tell me I was missed. Even a little?” she’s buried herself in the forest for quite some time… tired of it all, and needing to get away. Perhaps four weeks back to back? No word of worry from her family. Had they been happy of her escape? 590

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