He was pulled away from the oasis, always searching for something he could not name. Restless by nature he roamed further each time, curious about this world, eager to learn what he can about it. In time he would seem to rise, again, and in order to do that he needed to know everything. Which pride he might be able to topple, one day, when the time was right. Spring was in full swing and the sun was high by the time he spotted water on the horizon, drawn like a proverbial fly to honey. The prey gathered around parted like the Red Sea and this brought an amused smirk to his lips. He made a half-hearted lunge at one poor zebra, stirring the herd in to a frenzy of high pitched calls and thundering hooves. A low chuckle was buried by the mini stampede, and then he lowered his head to drink. His gaze stayed high, watching his surroundings, tensed and ready as the battle hardened warrior he was.

image by moogle, code by koi

The days went by and she was feeling idle. There was nothing of particular interest that happened in this dull land, and the Jarl's orders clearly stated they must not attract any needless attention to themselves. And so the Rike woman wandered around like a fly without a head, searching for something to liven up her mood, make her feel alive again.

There were many instances where she had tried to enjoy herself, do something other than lay around, and wait for the men to finally give them some command. The day spent with the handsome warrior at the boneyard, the little bloody gift she had left to the Sigrun, or her small scruffle with this alabaster woman at the scorched forest. They were naught but crumbs to the northern woman. She was used to constant action, constant change. This land was stale. Only those tiny moments where she could stretch her limbs and flex her claws were her medication, but they were few and far in-between.

The prey scattered in fear, but it was not because of her. She lifted her head from the water's edge and saw him.

Her medication.

Licking her lips to remove the excess water, she rose to her feet with intent in her gaze. You never told me your name, liebhaber. She smirked slyly, appearing beside him.

_{ART — CODE}

As if by magic she appeared beside him, a little more scarred and bloody but no less stunning. More so, if anything, for he admires her marks with appreciation. Perhaps it was jealousy, even — already it had been too long since he had bled and made bleed. A shiver coursed down his spine at her voice, his body remembering well the things she had made him feel. It had been a night for the books, one he was not inclined to forget any time soon, and with her beside him he suddenly ached for a repeat. Typical of him a low chuckle spilled in response to her introduction. “Hmmm, sounds like I’ve got something you want,” he taunted as he lifted his head from the water and licked the drops from his lips. A quirked brow, curious if they would fall back in to the same delicious banter.

image by moogle, code by koi

Her violet gaze instinctively settled against his sharp, masculine features. The way his tongue ran across his lips reminded her of their shared night. The heat began to rise within her. His laughter was an oddly perfect sound. There was plenty she didn't know about him, but perhaps if they were both going to use and abuse each other, she should make sure he was not one of them.

Everything. She responds, settling beside him, but not making a move towards him. -- But a name would do, for now. Unless you have something to hide? Thick german accent wraps around her words, she shoots him a challenging stare from beneath thick lashes. She would've enjoyed their careless encounters before without question, but in this unfamiliar land, she ought to follow the Jarl's orders and secure the threat beforehand. Well, what is it, loverboy?

@Alaric

_{ART — CODE}

She was wicked and fiendish and sly and he was desperate for more. More, more, every sense tuned to her. His gaze did not waver, caressing along the hard muscle of her body without the slightest hint of shame. Alaric was brazen, bold, and he sensed that she did not mind. He would worship at her paws for her a taste, place her on the pedestal she deserved to be on. He was a weak man, when it came to her. “Alaric,” he grunted, “Stärke.” His last name an afterthought, not that he believed it would matter. Shifting his weight to sit back on his haunches before her, he tipped his head with his usual charming grin. “If you give me yours then I will give you everything,” just like she wanted. His world for a name.

image by moogle, code by koi

His amethyst eyes pierced her, taking a tour of every inch of her body, and she feels his wamrth without even touching him. There is a glimmer in her eye, betraying her desire for him. She remains where she is, until he obliges to give her his name.

Alaric. She repeats it in her mind, his surname of little importance now that she knew it was not Sigrun. The scent of desert and water hung heavy from his pelt, but most importantly the scent of a man overwhelmed her senses. "If you give me yours then I will give you everything," she felt herself step closer, a low growl rumbling from the back of her throat. Erna stood face to face with the man, peering up. She wanted nothing more but to push him beneath her so he could fight to the top, leaving her bleeding and bruised and then take her. Everything? A dangerous promise, liebling. For it truly was a dangerous thing to offer to the insatiable woman who was never truly satisfied. Her insecurities were a fuel to her fire, and she would always seek to take more than anyone could offer. What made him think he could satisfy her? Erna Rike. She said, lips curling in a smirk.

_{ART — CODE}

if he knew who she was and what she had done? Would he care? There is no certainty in life, but there have been younglings to fall to his claws, too. Different, perhaps (for he was a lion of old, and his opponent could not be allowed to prosper) but it was still spilled blood. His own had fallen, too, and as much as he had grieved he knew it to be the way of life. He hated it, sometimes. A low growl to her words, a spark of interest in his poison eyes. “A risk I’m willing to take,” he paused and then his name curled around her name as if it were a precious thing, “Erna.” He stayed in his spot, seated, though he was of half a mind to pin her down and rip and tear and take. To make her bleed, to make her hurt, and then to make her feel. Twisted thoughts from a half-mad mind, but they curl his lips in a delicious sort of grin. “I am yours.” A dangerous promise, sure, but he lived for that kind of danger.

image by moogle, code by koi

While she had been intrigued by him for what his body could offer her in terms of satiating her carnal desires, Erna was finding that there was more to what meets the eye. The unshakable confidence that he could satisfy her in more ways than one was amusing. Did he think himself so strong, so able-minded to withstand the northern storm she was? What does... everything entail, my dear @Alaric? Her tone was sly and coiled like a snake around his name. Surely a promise so grand to a needy wench like her would have to mean a lot more than the wonderful nights they could share.

I am yours, he vows. She watches him with a lifted brow to express her disbelief. She chuckles darkly, unable to submit to the thought that one could tame a man. Especially a man such as the gruff warrior that stood before her. Still, she couldn't help but feel flattered and overconfident at his words. Erna was always in the back of everybody's mind, just like all other Rike women were, and she had to always fight for her position. Owning something or somebody was but a fantasy.

_{ART — CODE}

there was no hesitance to his voice, no spared thought in his mind as to whether or not this was the right choice. alaric was a man of simple wants and needs and the way she made his blood burn was reason enough to give in to this woman. this strange, powerful woman, with her thick coat and rough voice. @Erna made him yearn in a way he had never imagined a woman would, made him want to relinquish some level of control. it was easy, when he knew he could always snatch it back. she made him feel powerful, unstoppable, and her question was easy enough to answer. "tell me what you want. my bed? my body? my heart?" did he have one to give? "my teeth and claws to protect you? they are yours." charming promises from a wicked tongue -- acting the role of the white knight come to sweep her away. all for a touch, a taste... "tell me, erna," a purr, "what do you want?"

image by moogle, code by koi

It seemed so simple. Too simple, she thought. How could she - a worthless snake with mangled tail by her own gnawing - steal the attention away of a man who could have it all? Let alone his heart? And still, she'd play the overconfident role, because she was confident but only to compensate for the hole inside her heart. She would watch him unfaltering, but behind the sly smirk were her demons screaming obscenities at her, reminding her again and again that she was weak and frail. I do not need your teeth and claws -- mine are sharp enough, she mused, but there was firmness in her voice. She didn't need to be protected, no, she couldn't allow that no matter how much she wanted it subconsciously. Erna was not going to succumb to her weakness and rely on him to play her knight. She had fended for herself all her life, and this calmed her, consoled her. She knew that in a time of need, she could protect herself and not fall into the trap of needing somebody else. If you give me your heart, I will tear it from your breast. I will never be satisfied, Alaric. Are you fit to withstand me, liebhaber? It was not a coincidence she was named Erna, a storm.

_{ART — CODE}