Fairytales Sell Better On The Black Market

[` k i w i `]

C L I C K !

I do my damnedest to ignore the foul tempered beast as much as possible, even going as far as to tug halfheartedly back on the impossibly strong rope that was so easily slipped around my thick neck. I felt like a caged animal, bound and kept away from the world, in the dark, although he had only made his fruitful capture not very long ago.

I finally gave up on a daring escape, which seemed more impossible than ever, for the time being, and let my mind wonder far and away. My senses explored the surrounding terra, that had not to suddenly began to change. The tight cluster of dark trees that our sloping path was carved in had ever so slightly started to lighten up, their entangled branches slowly untying. Where did this ghostly white monster plan on taking my poor soul? Would I live to see our destination, if he had one at all?

My white paws soon grew heavy, my blue and white hued head hazy. "Gematria," I replied, giving in with my little note. My lyrical voice was but a quivering whisper and it felt as if I was giving the monstrous stag my entire soul. I finally stop, dead in my weary tracks, my hued body falling to the ever changing, cold, hard ground. "Please. Give me a moment." My long pink tongue had long since lolled from my thick white bottle.

[.cay]

I look back, pausing as she fell to the ground. You had better be careful, fae. Those are my young you carry. Looking around, I start to notice signs that we were almost at my terrace again. My tail wags happily in recognition, as I scan over the tall, almost human trees and hear the distant yowls and catcalls of the other carnivores in the jungle.

A few minutes pass and I pad back to Gemantria. My quivering nose I press to her stomach carefully and then slip forward so that I am in front of her again. What's wrong. I bark it out mercilessly, less like a question and more like a statement without all the answers. I narrow violet eyes at her and sit down softly where I once stood.

My thoughts progress forward in time. How long would it be before she was pupping? How many would there be? My toes tingle anxiously and in anticipation. I wonder what my heir will look like? He will be my oldest son; perhaps those to follow him can be trained in my pawprints and go onward with my fury. They could bring me more wolves to join our pack. One day, they could even tear down the lite nation with me. Then, all of our pearly whites and our pale coats will be stained in the royal colour of red.

My thoughts are broken into as I hear the screech of a jaguar from nearby. My hackles raise and I am on my feet again. I am instantly beside Gemantria, trying to nose her to her paws. We cannot linger. It is not safe for you outside, right now. You will find a haven in the camp. I begin to get exasperated. I will help you up if you need it, but we cannot stay here! The rope is not slack as I urge her forward, hearing another snarl from the jungle cat.

[` k i w i `]

C L I C K !

A growl starts from deep within my whitened belly, vibrating through my whole bottle, up and out my bottle, lips raised, pearly digger-like teeth open to the air, as the monster nosed around my precious, ever expanding barrel. "The only wrong is you." I hissed, hormonal rage and outrage on the edge of my tongue. I wanted nothing more at this very moment but the rip the knights throat clean from his body.

I slowly urge my body up and forward, feeling like a giant being were placing equally huge red clay brick on my thickening bodice. The call of a predator breaks through my though veil of concentration, a shiver running down my skin, all the way to the white tip of my tail. The dog pulls me forward, and I feel my pipes being cut off from the precious supply of oxygen that my body, and now the rapidly growing forms of others, so preciously need. I push myself harder, faster, allowing my gait to slip into a quick waddle. Things were feeling ... weird, rushed, even. The colors around me change, and I realize with a start that the terrain is different than that of my last memory. Things were ... more leafy here. The trees were more leafy, yet still tangled in a gnarled mass, and almost as sinister looking. I shudder again, this time at the thought of the tall trees and what could be hiding in them.

My dark orbs see red again as my temper rises at the useless male that has so wholeheartedly taken me for his own. I hope to hell that he does not plan on dragging me, literally, too much further, for my poor whiting pillars started then to feel weaker than ever. I could feel my life energy massing around one thought.
Live birth. I could feel it. The mounting danger, swiftly growing ever more close, the sick pains and spasms of life anew, drawing ever nearer.

[.cay]

I would have stopped, to sneer in amusement at the little growl she aimed towards me, but right now, I am mostly just worried about the vixen's safety. At the moment, I really don't care if she objects to my touch; to where she carried both myself and herself within her growing parcel.

The only wrong isyou,

[/b] she hisses from her unenamoured stance beside me. My amythyst lenses flash brightly in anger quickly, and I snap out at her. My ivories land near the base of her tail, but as I had intended fought only at air. Yowls that are blazingly loud in my heightened awareness hint at a need for balance and saved strength. No time to fight the hormonal beastress beside me. I do beg to differ, darling, as I stare around us, trying to ease the femme forward, even if she insisted on a snail's pace. I am not going to be the worst one you face in these jungles.

In a sudden outburst of wickedness, I lean towards her and hiss in her ear, mocking both her understatement of danger and the wildcats that were somewhere around us in the malicious terrace. The yowls seem to slowly fade away as we make our way towards the camp. The trees around me sprout thick, waxy leaves that collect the rainfall like earthernware bowls.

I can almost see the camp ahead, but my nose twitches anxiously. Darting violet eyes sideways at my pixie, I watch her secretly and carefully. I could hardly entreat to tell, where the fur along her sides and spine shimmered as waves upon a shore. The porcelain dutchess shone like glass in whatever emotional state she was in. Triggering radars, swivelling in pique, catch a hint of alarmed response. Could it be pain? Surely it was not so soon that the air would be hammered with the mark of Alpha and Omega twining?

At the crawl cracked leather tattoed against saturated and spineless grounds beneath, it would take many more wolf-breaths before the duo plauged the refuge they saught. My harks are not useless; I am aware it is possible the silhouette beside me might wisp away before adhering to the second-level of peace her biggest task would need for succession. A seed of worry spins vines around my nerves.[/size][/blockquote]

[` k i w i `]

C L I C K !

I curse in a loud his as the monster nips for a faster pace. Surely my words were not getting on his nerves? I deeply curved smile nails itself to my bottle and I pick up my pace to a slow trot, one white paw after another. I study the ground as I concentrate on breathing and the rhythm of my padfalls and own beating heart. Suddenly I take note of our steps, our bodies, and how oddly colored a duo we are. My paws fall into the same hurried but hushed pace that the menacing knight has set before me.

I blink stupidly, missing a beat in our hurried dance of excitement, dazed for a moment as I feel my own blood pressure doing weird things. I suddenly feel sick, light headed, and heavy pawed. I feel like I may spew the ever growing spawn inside me right out of my very own bottle. And I can hear each padfall echo throughout the forest. I can hear every living thing around me breath, and the world seems to move in slow motion. I feel as if I am trotting through the thickest syrup, like I am sticking to the hard ground like glue.

A feeling of impending doom crashes upon my crown, penetrating my thoughts like termites quickly feasting on an old, rotting log. I feel the immense need to escape. I need to, no, have to find a safe place. Strange things flash before my eyes, and I swear we are being followed. My surroundings are deafening, and this terra strikes me as an improper place to raise these hellions that reside inside of me. I feel an itch, almost like the little life forms inside of my stomach want out. I feel my skin stretching, muscles clamping and loosening, and I cannot get enough air. I feel as if I might faint, or worse. Suffocation seems like a real possibility now, even more real than the wicked white beast beside me, and his more than lingering thoughts to hurt me. I suck in breath after breath, growing more and more uncomfortable by the moment. "Oh no," I squeak, signaling that I may not be able to make it but a few more paces. I feel pain, terrible pain.

[.cay]

Suddenly, as I watch my small shadow beside me, I am beset with a growing anxiety. There is something wrong; I know this. It looked like my initial feelings for her were correct; it seemed she would not make it very much further, even though we were paces from the camp. I sway my head between the feminine beside me, and the camp in front of me, trying to make a snap decision. Surely, what I was guessing what was happening with the fae couldn't be happening. It wasn't too soon, was it? Surely it couldn't be? There was no way that the vix was going to pup now.

Even as I think the words, I know that there must be a truth in them. I watch and see what looks like convulsions pass over Gemantria's frame. Before me is a plump, and almost ripened mother, who was nearing closer and closer to giving me my young.

In a way, I am glad that I picked up the girl, that this was the fae I chose. She would make a fine mother, and looked like she would defend my pups in any case of danger. This is a comforting thought. I wouldn't be home all the time to make sure that they would be okay, but the femme before me was strong; she would keep them safe.

As I see her trying to struggle closer to our desination, I utter a rough, slightly impatient, and just the smallest fraction of anxious whimper, and in that same insant a thought surges into my mind. Gem, I growl softly, would you allow me to carry you to the camp? I can see you can't bear that much further, but I am worried for your safety while giving birth when you lay on the forest floor. If you will drape onto my back, I can bring you swiftly to your den-- and to safety. I swipe my tongue across dry jowls and hope she takes the offer complacently.

The ticking of time echoes like gunshots in my mind.

[` k i w i `]

C L I C K !

My feeling of unrest spikes dangerously as the white stag slithers nearer me. I feel as if I am trapped between a rock and a hard place, the trees to my side being the hard place, and this wolfish monster the rock. My quickly turning mind draws blank as it try to register the lyrics gallantly sung by the father of my current pains.

"Never. Never will I accept your vermin help." The words are uttered softly from between parched blue lips with a hard note of hatred dripping from every syllable. Angry heat boiled from ever pore in my body. How dare that cowardice devil offer his help to me! A deep growl raises through my aching throat.

Suddenly, a tree jumps from it's row before me, and snags my blue frosted shoulder, sending me on a hazardous crash course. My short life flashes before the dark waters that are my eyes, and I feel my body sway and crash with the full power on inertia behind me. My shoulder aches and my whole body quakes with the pain of many on coming dangers. My head swims in flashes of hot anger, cool fear, and spiking pain. I curse myself fro being so clumsy. I curse myself and the whole world around me for my misfortune. "I am not 'Gem.'" I whimper on a final note, before the world around me goes blank.

I listen in silent wait as the sounds of the surrounding forest slowly creep upon my harks. I hear the soft chirping of little black crickets, the sweet melodic songs of many colorful birds high above my head, and the hushed whisper of a gentle breeze as it weaves it's fingers through the leaves of the foliage. A liquid smile reaches my porcelain bottle as I finally fade completely into the black.

[.cay]

Her snide refusal of my help floats through my outstreched harks and into the cortex of electricity that was my brain. They seem faint and thin; like fog on the rolling ocean. I shrug. If she didn't want my help so be it.

I move off the the side and lean my ivory head down to lick my shoulder, in a long, deep wash. Suddenly, I hear a crack and the femme before me is struck bby falling lumber. I am on my paws before cranium can register, and dart to her side.

She mutters something to me, but I cannot hear it, and nor do I really care to. I couldn't be bothered with caring deeply about someone who didn't care a lick about me.

However, I do feel a certain attachment to what this she-wolf carries in her barrel, and with a grunt of frustration I start to pad to Gematria's side. My bottle wrinkles up in distaste, and gleaming optics take in the fae's final, angered and troubled face before she falls too strongly into un-consciousness.

Baring my needles, I lean forward to grab her matted scruff in my jaws. With a sharp sound of physical assertation, I heave her off of the ground and start to carry the small lupine to the near camp. She was heavy in my jaws; I was carrying more than one life in my grasp now.

With a mighty leap, I swing both of us into the trees and start climbing the way into my camp, trying to decide where the knocked out and knocked up girl would be put. There was a small den in a tree beside mine, and aim for there.

In a few more moments we arrive near the front, and I place my load carefully at our destination.

A bit worriedly, I nose her side and her ear before backing up and slamming on my haunches, watching the image with a cocked crania.

[` k i w i `]

C L I C K !

I lapse in and out of consciousness, like shallow ocean tides licking at gleaming sandy beaches in fast forward. One moment I could hear and feel the living, moving, breathing forest around me, and in the next moment everything was dark and numb. I remember, for a short time, being awake, and feeling an extremely strong instinct sucker punch me right in the gut. I remember shuffling around and listening to little grunts and whines.

Dark lids flutter over deep blue orbs like shutters pulled up much too quickly. I jump to my soft white paws in a swift motion and stumble over something furry and breathing. A hiss of a gasp escapes my pale bottle as I realize what I have just tripped over. I look about me in subtle fright. All about me I am inclosed in wood. The place wreaks of plant bone and animal. I had apparently not been the first creature to nest here.

I point my bottle to my side, and spy three bumps, their bodies rising and falling in rhythm. One is white, and it is curled half under another grey bump, which is over lapped by a blueish bump. A troubled frown wrinkled my crown and I grow worried. Were these things mine? I ponder for a moment, feeling like a hamster trapped in it's spinning wheel, stuck there with nothing to do but run for ever and ever. With a decided grunt, I settle on the thought of these three things being mine. Light a light bulb flashing to life, the word hits me. Pups. These were my pups, and I was their dam. A dam damned to a life of servitude, but a dam no less. A sudden sly thought crosses my mind and a wide grin splashes across my features.

With a dramatic whimper, I poke my blue and white head from my wooden den and look about me. Everywhere there are leaves. Leaves and branches and room. Tones of room. This derails my train of thought for a moment, as I realize that I am actually high up in the air. After a moment I regain my composure. "Casire. Casire?" I call, voice weak with a dramatic air. "Oh Casire." I pause to sniffle for a moment. "Something terrible has happened!" I wail, fortifying my hold on the small entrance of the den, knowing for sure that the stag would do something completely crazy, but still feelings happy that I may cast some worry on the brute.