an advanced play-by-post realistic wolf roleplay

[P] hell has frozen over
He did not understand any of this, even as he held Aely down. He did not understand her. Only minutes ago she had practically condemned him to starvation, unless he fought. And now she was underneath him, refusing to even lift a paw to fend him off. She was unpredictable and he hated her for it. He had not minded during the past spring and summer when his life was not at stake; but now, during the height of winter, it created confusion and uncertainty he did not need. When his life was playing a game against death, he preferred if the world was black and white; sharp and decisive with no overlapping greys.

Aely was the grey he neither wanted nor needed.

Not simply her volatile character, but her whole presence. She was a familiarity - a comforting, safe relic from the golden spring and summer months - who stood against him; who callously played with his emotions, inviting pain, sadness, and confusion when all he needed was anger. And now, despite her submissive position, she was looking up at him, not with fear or anxiety. But with a steadiness that did not quite match the situation. And thus, a snarl found his face when his question came out as a demand, and she shot back, echoing his question; "What are you doing?" Her body began to move beneath his paws, to rise, but he quickly utilised his weight, however little, to force her back, pinning her to the ground. Unpredictability was not something he could risk trusting, even if she was supposed to be his friend.

"You were going to kill me, weren't you? If I hadn't given in?" Her words stung; not because they were filled with malice. But because they were true. He would kill her if he must; if Aely had pushed him far enough. "You were going to do this to me." Her paw raised to brush against the scars that wrecked his throat and he flinched at the touch. Gentle against marks of such brutality. The mere thought of sinking his teeth into her throat; ripping out the soft flesh that contained the blood within; seeing the red soaking the white. It filled him with disgust and dread, but he would do it if he must. He must stay alive. But, even so, the underlying hypocrisy of her words raised his hackles ever so slightly. “You would let me starve if I walked away.” Both a challenge and an explanation within a single answer.

“Astollo Anouilh speaking”


The back of her head met the cold bite of snow again as he kept her down. What did he want from her? If he hated her so, why didn't he just end it? Chase her off? She knew he could feel her hunger under his touch. She was nothing. Skin and bones and lost hope. She was the snake without venom, the bramble stripped of its thorns. She gave in, and if there was one thing Aely wasn't, it was a liar. She spat the truth without remorse. Lies were for the crooked and desperate.

She had lied, though, hadn't she? In a moment of desperation, she had snarled for him to leave - to die.

She pulled back her paw as she got the reaction she desired: a dose of reality when he was focused intently on her demise. He was just as quick, though. He reminded her of her ruthless choice to chase him into the clutches of winter, and it made her wince at her cruelty. She didn't deny it, though. She claimed it, wielded it as her weapon. She fixed him with her unabashed gaze, her voice lower though no less barbed. "You would let me decide your fate?" She shook her head and flattened her ears. "If only I had known you would be so compliant." Maybe he wouldn't have run from her that day in the grass. What would have happened to her - to them - if she had asked him to stay?

At long last, she had caught her breath. Confidence oozed back into her limbs as she caught the edge of the higher ground. Fought for it. Her back paws were unconstrained, and she twisted her lower body, knocked her legs, and shoved her paws up at his stomach. "Now, get off." She would be volatile if he chose to be a killer.


art by timidpine


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