Private Tales Clashing Fangs

Victoria O'Connor

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The road was too rough for the carriage. Although it was elegant, it was old, and wooden box groaned and creaked as it bumped over roots and slid in and out of ruts. Victoria sat alone inside, being bounced around the plush seats, furious. She would have the driver’s head for this. Literally. She was going to tear off his head and have it preserved. Then she would mount it on the carriage so that the next driver could see what would happen if they chose the worst possible route through the forest.

It was supposed to be an easy trip. Traveling day and night, they reached the Spine within a matter of weeks. It should only have taken a few days beyond that to get to the old, forgotten palace tucked away in the mountain crags. It was old, but the roads should still be there… right? Surely the braindead fool had taken some goat path and she had been tossed about like a sheaf for hours.

Finally, with a tremendous crack, the carriage lurched to a stop and sat tilted heavily to the left. Victoria was thrown to the side wall, pressing up against the latched door until she righted herself. Thank goodness it was the dead of night, for the thick drapes had been flapping about the windows wildly.

She pushed up against the right-side door and shoved it clean off its hinges, hearing it tumble into the dark woods. She climbed out of the lopsided transport, and she hissed and swatted away the hands that came to assist her.

”Fools! Idiots!” she screached. ”What has happened? Why have we stopped?”

“The axel’s snapped, my lady,” came a soft, drawling voice from the front of the carriage. The vampire whipped around, her pleasing features contorted in rage, her normally pristine hair disheveled and wild.

”Then fix it,” she hissed, leaning in to the carriage driver. The two attendants who had ridden on the back of the carriage, two young women who would have been pretty were it not for their drained faces and looks of fatigue, glanced at each other nervously.

“I… I cannot, my lady,” the driver fell to his knees, “Please, forgive me, Mistress. The damage is too great. We could go on foot unti-” There was a terrible squelching sound as a finely groomed alabaster hand dug into his neck, gripped his jaw from below and hurled his head into the forest. The body fell to the ground at once.

Victoria screamed into the night, her face spattered with fine flecks of blood. ”On foot?” she asked no one, ”The sun will be up in hours and we are in the fucking mountains!”

All of a sudden, a smooth and eerie howl pierced the inky night. Victoria straightened up, cocking her head to listen. She sniffed the air.

“What is it, Mistress?”

“Shut up.” Victoria snapped, still listening. Her crimson eyes saw through the darkness as clear as day and she could not see any beasts approaching… but the hair on the back of her neck prickled.


| Fallon |​
 
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Fallon

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The cool evening breeze shifted, ruffling playfully through Fallon's glossy, white fur and dragging with it her scent. The scent that matched the haunting lament she'd poured from her lungs into the air in a misty plume in offering to the inky sky. The scent of wolf..

She'd managed to stay upwind from the carriage for the last five miles or so along the mountain's ridge, stalking her prey, her paws kissing the harsh terrain with a lightness that didn't equate to the sheer size of her. Aside the intelligence in her silver stare, size was the only thing that differentiated her from any mundane wolf in her current form.

Silver orbs caught the moonlight just so and beamed from her lofty vantage point just above as she watched the driver's brutal forfeiture, the coppery aroma of blood bursting into the air in an assault to her keen senses. Knifelike claws extended from each mighty paw and scraped at the stone, her stance one of qualified confidence, pride and encroachment. Her muzzle curled back to reveal her row of pearly sharp teeth that allowed a low, guttural growl to pass through them as she stared down at the back of the vampire's head.

Fallon lowered her muscular body carefully, keeping her weight spread evenly between all four legs, aware of the treacherous nature of the mountain she stalked upon and that one wrong move could prove fatal. She never underestimated an opponent.. Especially not a vampire. Her movements were fluid and without apparent effort as she sprung from the mountain side, down one, two, three ledges, upsetting loose stones that clacked and echoed in cascade under the weight of her until she landed on the dimpled path in front of them, her hackles raised around her neck.

Sights trained on the fiery haired woman, she made her run, and leapt, paws aimed at slamming and pinning her to the ground.
 
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Victoria O'Connor

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The eerie silence continued, but the howl had been close. Seconds stretched to eternities as she listened, as she scoured the surroundings for movement. The thralls stood silent, with questioning looks in their glossy eyes. They had never seen their mistress so alert.

Victoria knew what stalked her, for its scent stood out like a beacon against the pine and stone. An enemy, a member of a blood feud older even than her sire’s sire, another monster. She wrinkled her nose at the detestable odor, and taught tendons stood out on her hands as she flexed her fingers.

Where was it? While she knew it must be near, but she could not pinpoint it by scent alone. That advantage belonged to the werewolf, and she backed up closer to her ruined carriage. It knew exactly where she was, she was sure of it.

A sound: falling rocks. Victoria turned - too late. She had less than a second to bare her fangs before she was slammed to the ground by a wolf several times larger than any natural beast. Had there been breath in her body, it would have left her. For a fraction of a moment, she stared back into the animal’s eyes, defiant. Its fur shone brilliantly in the moonlight, and there was no way she could lift the creature’s massive weight from her shoulders.

Her thralls threw themselves at Fallon, howling with a mad and desperate fury. They grabbed at fur and beat with futile strikes of their fists. As they did so the vampire sneered, then began to fade from view. Where once a woman lay was now a swirling cloud of fog that flowed hastily beneath the carriage and recoalesced on the opposite side. Victoria needed to get to chest under her seat, and the silver rapier within.
 

Fallon

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Fallon's snarling muzzle snapped just inches above the woman's face in a display of dominance, her hackles bristled and her pupils dilated to obsidian pools encompassed with a band of bright silver. As she looked down at the woman she'd been about to execute however, something stopped her in her fatal attack, and all signs of aggression and menace on her features softened in an instant and her ears pulled back.

She felt the woman's escorts come to her aid, unperturbed by their terror as they pulled at her fur and threw fists at her sides, their priority not their lives but the safety of their mistress. Fallon snapped at the air in warning toward the fists that came at her, and in her distraction the vampire beneath her was gone. Fallon backed up, her ears pivoting and eyes searching frantically for the redhead..

It wasn't possible.. Was it? Olivia had died, she'd seen it with her own two eyes - she'd buried the woman herself.. And yet her own two eyes and seen the woman she'd just pinned to the gravel. The vampire. Even in her attack, Fallon's heart remained calm and steady, but now it hastened as panic and confusion rose in her. She gave a quick air snap of fangs in warning, though none dared to approach her as she backed away from the carriage..
 
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Victoria O'Connor

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Victoria ripped open the door of the carriage and threw her entire upper body into the lopsided carriage, reaching under her seat to a long green chest. "Filthy beast," she muttered to herself as her pale fingers tore at the latches and pulled out a long, slender blade. It shimmered like a mirror in the pale light of the moon, it's blade perfect, its pommel an intricate swirl of quicksilver filaments.

She felt much more confident with the silver in her hand. While lycanthropes typically did not possess the tools to erase her outright, the wolf had been more than large enough to tear her limb from limb. Perhaps she would not die, but it would be extremely painful, and she would much prefer death to an eternity of her body scattered across the world.

She came around the back of the carriage with the blade raised, surprised to see the wolf had stepped back. How her thralls were still alive was beyond her, clearly they hadn't defended her with as much vigor as she expected. They wouldn't be able to do a thing, of course, but it was the gesture that Victoria expected.

She lifted the sword, holding it level with her shoulder and a subtle bend of her elbow and wrist. "Begone, wolf," she said with thick contempt and gratuitous flashing of fangs. "I have had a very long night."
 

Fallon

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It wasn't her.. How could it be? She would recognise her... Would she even remember her?

Fallon's heart palpitated in her chest, and her massive paws continued to move back further away from the upturned carriage. Her gaze fixed on the red haired woman as she reappeared armed with silver, and the wolf gave a deep warning growl without baring her teeth this time, her ears pressing back flat against her skull.

She fought with herself. Retreat being the wisest choice but curiosity and confusion rooting her to the path. She had to know.. Any sudden movement would be a mistake. She knew how fast her kind were, and how strong, and if she looked for a moment that she was not entirely ready for an attack the woman might take advantage and it'd all be over in seconds.

The wolf pulled in a deep breath of air and slowly sighed. As she did her shape changed, though her attention never left the vampire for a moment. Silken fur sank back under her soft, pale skin as she herself shrank back to the lithe form of a woman. The transformation was so well practised that it was smooth and efficient, and the cracks and snaps of her bones were not violent as they once had been.

When she stood she did so naked and proud, the breeze playing in her blonde hair as it had done with her fur moments prior. Her chin lifted and her shoulders rolled and squared, the same silver eyes staring directly at the vampire with a soft crease on her brow as she studied her in utter bewilderment..

"Livvy?..." she asked hesitantly, her voice cracking under the pressure of the name, lilting the thick mingle of nordic and elven accent with something softer and much more fragile..
 
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Victoria O'Connor

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At first, it seemed as though her posturing had worked. The enormous wolf stepped back, but it growled still and had its ears pressed flat, and even Victoria’s servants knew not to step closer.

It shifted faster and more gracefully than any lycanthrope Victoria had ever seen. Perhaps, if she had been paying more attention, she would have recognized that this one’s scent was different, too. It was simpler than the others... purer. More of the wilds than not. The fur receded to reveal a woman, standing tall and strong in the moonlight. Victoria could not help herself a passing glance, but she kept her weapon up.

She was stunning, a paradoxical beauty of primal strength and ethereal elven grace. Even with her innate hatred of the species, Victoria could not help but be captivated

"Livvy?..."
Victoria blinked and stood up straighter, like the word had sent an electric shock through her body. Her blade dropped to half height.

”What did you call me?”

It had been her sister’s name. But surely Olivia was long dead. She had married and left their home years before Victoria’s transformation. There was no way this creature had known her... was there?

She took a single step forwards, staring hard at those silver eyes, matching them with red intensity. ”Where did you hear that name?“
 
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Fallon

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"Is it your name?..." Fallon demanded in quick, growled retort as the woman with the silver blade stepped forward. Her tone was harsher this time, but still much thicker with emotion than it would usually have been, a slight quake in her words betraying the ache in her throat and the tears that welled behind her eyes that she'd refuse to let spill for anyone other than Livvy..

She stared at the woman with a predatory intensity that made most men quiver, and her bare feet twisted in the dusty path as she began pacing across it in slow, careful strides, never letting her gaze falter for a moment. Fallon seemed to pay no mind to being naked and dirty and carried herself like the Queen she was with pride, authority and an unwavering ferocity. Even in this form she had the look of a wolf as she paced, awaiting her answer before determining the vampire's fate.

The need and duty to kill any and all vampires who she had the displeasure of meeting was simply ingrained into her. It was her function and purpose, and behind her stoic expression her mind raced hysterically. If somehow this was Olivia, what would she do? She'd already had the opportunity to tear out the woman's throat and she'd faltered, in that moment she couldn't despite knowing instinctively that she should have, and fighting against ones instincts was something Fallon actively taught her wolves not to do. Suddenly, she was a hypocrite, and it troubled her greatly. How could she let the vampire live and return to her pack?

She had to kill her.
 
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Victoria O'Connor

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Victoria was young, by vampire standards, but two hundred years was still plenty of time to establish herself. It helped that her sire had been of significant standing in their coven, and this in combination with Victoria’s noble birthright had led to over a century of stability and power.

Right now, she felt a confusion and uncertainty she hadn’t experienced since her undead infancy. Her family was dead. Their legacy was dead. She was the only remnant of the O’Connors. It was up to her, and her alone, to restore power of that name. It had made things simple. Easy. Hearing her sister’s name had thrown all of that into doubt.

Suddenly she was a girl again, wanting her older sister, desperate to believe she had survived. She was confused and alone. Had this woman known Olivia? Was she alive? No… surely that was impossible, even her children would be dead by now. And it didn’t make sense that the werewolf had called her by her sister’s name. Olivia had been petite and raven haired, with piercing blue eyes and a kind face. Victoria was tall and fair, and the curse had removed any trace of compassion from her face.

She tracked Fallon as she paced, the sword perking up again. It was becoming more difficult to ignore her nakedness. Vampires were not known for their prudishness, but even they did not traipse about the forest in the nude. Well… not often, anyway.

The lycan was mistaken… but it was too much to be coincidence. She was loath to converse with something so low and beastial, but she needed to know more. ”Not mine. My sister… once.” She felt conflicted about revealing something so personal. ”How old are you?” she demanded suddenly, her voice resuming the usual commanding tone. She would get to the bottom of this misunderstanding.
 
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Fallon

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Fallon's heart suddenly broke all over again and she realised that despite her doubts she'd allowed some sort of rapidly growing hope build and fester in her mind and she let out a breath as it shattered. Rage quickly replaced it, and her blood ran so hot that her skin burned and radiated. She felt tricked, like the woman had worn that face on purpose, perhaps she was some sort of illusionist, a trickster or shifter..

Sister?.. "She didn't have a sister!" Fallon's jaw clenched and she cracked her neck violently with a tilt of her head, trying to rid herself of the building tension that often prompted a shift. She was well practised enough to control her rage enough to choose when and where she shifted, but it didn't mean she didn't feel those familiar twinges. A low, guttural growl rattled in her chest and she sneered at the redhead's question about her age. Truthfully she wasn't entirely sure, but she certainly wasn't willing to converse with the woman now.

Now, she'd put herself in a vulnerable position. Now she was naked, unarmed, and although her shifts were smooth and quick, if the vampire even suspected she may be too quick to react and the silver made her anxious. Still she continued to pace, incensed at herself for hesitating in the first place, unable to bring herself to leave or shift or do anything but pace in confusion.

"You have her face.. Her hair.. Even her voice." she frowned, needing some sort of reason or clarification. "Is it a trick?.." her head tilted wolfishly.
 
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Victoria O'Connor

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It was not the same Olivia, and like the wolfblood before her, Victoria felt her hope crumble. She had been stupid to believe for even a moment, and now she had revealed personal information to this abomination. She hadn’t told anyone save her sire about her family, not in any detail that mattered. What would Morgan think of her, being so easily flustered by the mere mention of a name?

Her sword lifted again, the deadly point fixed on Fallon’s throat from afar. She might have a chance to strike if the woman tried to shift again, but the transformations had been seamless, and she knew that she couldn’t match a lycanthrope’s raw strength once they were in their true shape.

Her thralls had drawn closer to her as Fallon’s tone turned hostile once again, glazed eyes behind determined faces. They knew nothing but their love for their mistress, and they would gladly be torn apart before letting her fall.

”She sounds like quite the lady,” Victoria sneered. While she regarded werewolves as little more than animals, the woman before her was elven enough in appearance, and she had the same tells as people. In the sadistic dance of high society, one needed to find weakness quickly, and Victoria had by necessity picked up a skill for interpretation.

Fallon’s shock at her appearance, the tender way she had spoken. Livvy, she had said, not Olivia. The lycan’s anger at the truth... it was almost too easy to figure out. ”Oh my, did you love her?” she said in a mocking lilt, tilting her head to match Fallon’s.

She needed to make her angry, force her to make mistakes, perhaps even force a transformation to get a momentary opening. ”Well, you have good taste, but no, dog, no tricks. Your master is not here. But if you like, I could be your new master. It’s clear you need a firm hand to train you.”

She stood ready, watching for her chance.
 
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Fallon

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Fallon was much too old and much too wise to be bated by cruel mockeries and weak taunts. She'd lost count of the times over the years that she'd been called 'dog' or 'bitch' or 'mutt' and it prompted no more than an eye roll. But she couldn't deny to herself that the woman had struck a nerve.. Had she been so obvious? She'd allowed her guard to slip, her heart to be seen, and by vermin such as this? Fallon's true ire was with herself right now.

So the vampire wanted to fight. Fallon smiled at her attempts at flaring her temper, her cheeks dimpling as she laughed.. "I'm sure you can do better than that.." Fallon mused back at her, her jaw clenching as she allowed her eyes to settle on her face again. It was a cruel dream, to see the face of the woman she loved look back at her with such enmity and silver clutched in her palm. Fallon has the epitome of strength, physically, mentally and emotionally.. and she'd never been so troubled by self doubt as she was in this moment. Her mind felt void of reason, regardless of how much she told herself that this woman was not Olivia, she was certain that killing her would break and haunt her. Something was stopping her from doing what was her duty to do, and it vexed her.

She'd been about to speak again when a branch snapped nearby and Fallon froze, and only her eyes shifted in the direction from where the sound had come from. Another snap. She pulled at the air, trying to catch the scent, and her eyes widened when she did.

Suddenly she was tearing at her own skin as she started at a run toward the carriage, a loud growl thrown from her chest as the wolf burst from her flesh and took off at a run before leaping, claws splayed at the wendigo that stepped out of the tree line.
 
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Victoria O'Connor

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Victoria’s jeers did not have the desired effect. The woman before her remained tall and proud, beautiful and fierce. The vampire felt herself waver, it had been years since a foe had faced her with so much confidence. Her own face returned to a scowl as Fallon laughed. Her voice was as haunting as the howls had been.

They both heard the noise, both looked in its direction while staying aware of each other’s position. What Victoria saw next struck her to her cold, dead core. It wasn’t the Wendigo, although her thralls recoiled in fright from the beast. She had dealt with monsters before. No, it was Fallon whom she couldn’t take her eyes off.

The pure ferocity of her charge, the violence of her transformation. The raw, primal energy that coarsed through her. Victoria saw in perfect, moonlit clarity how it pulsed across every sinew of her body, every muscle surging as her bare skin was torn away. She saw the beast that emerged, and it was not shocking in any sense that such a creature had been within the woman just a moment before.

It was the antithesis of Victoria’s life. The opposite of polished poise and knife-edged words. It made her fancy rapier look like a crutch, a vain and sad replacement for true beastial power. In that moment she was not disgusted by Fallon’s savagery. She was absolutely enraptured by it.

Her fantasy broke as the Wendigo shrieked. It was big, and it would be hungry. They were always hungry. She snarled, baring her own fangs as her blade faced the new threat. She should run, turn tail and fly out of this place. The werewolf was distracted, and should the Wendigo prevail it would at leastbe distracted by the two free meals Victoria had brought with her.

But she couldn’t go. Something was keeping her here. Her sister’s name still floated in her head and this wolf felt like the answer to a question she didn’t have yet. Time enough to sort through later, once the new arrival was dead.

She rushed forth and took a slice at the beast’s neck, taking at least some care to avoid Fallon.
 
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Fallon

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Fallon's dagger-like claws raked through the beast's chest before she felt it's own hooks bore into her sides and throw her using her own momentum. She sailed into a tree that cracked in protest under the weight of her and she let out a furious growl as she landed and rose with a stagger to her feet.

The creature lent too much of it's attention to Fallon that it hadn't noticed the Vampire's attack, and it let out a violent screech as the silver tore through it's throat. The creature's massive arm swung back, and had been lifting in it's intent to swipe at the woman when Fallon leapt a second time and clutched the beast's wrist in her massive jaw and crunched down on bone. Another screech, and Fallon pulled as hard as she could to bring the beast to it's knees, Silver eyes widening as it's free hand came rushing toward her with splayed claws meant to impale.
 
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Victoria O'Connor

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Watching a new vampire come to terms with their power is much like watching a child learning to walk. Suddenly, after a relatively quick event, a world of completely new possibilities are opened.

Victoria had taken some time to get used to her new strength and speed. Even in her infancy, it was enough of a change that she tore several doors off their hinges in the first week, and frequently ran into walls that arrived much more quickly that they should have.

A couple of centuries worth of practice later, and she was in full control of herself. The battle moved very quickly, but she saw things in exquisite detail. Her feet hit the ground, and already Fallon had the monster’s arm in her grasp. It swung as it fell to its knees, and in a flash Victoria was there. It took her three steps: one to move beneath the arm Fallon held, another to stand in front of her, and a final turn to catch the attack.

With a wet, ringing impact she drove her blade to the hilt into the attacking arm, diverting it up and over the pair of them. She could feel her muscles locked in rigid strength, trembling against the weight she held. The sword sliced up the arm as the wendigo’s momentum continued, showering Victoria in a deluge of blood.

It was foul stuff, worse than that of the lowest animals, and she spat it out of her mouth in disgust, but she grinned. She had missed this. She hadn’t had to use her powers for... gods, how long? Had she really become so dull?

Her gloating was cut short as the Wendigo wrenched back its arm, pulling her forwards and face-first into the ground, clutching her bloodied weapon. Clearly it had been too long since she’d had a proper fight.
 
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Fallon

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Fallon was fast, exceptionally so, but the speed in which vampires could move had always unnerved her. She unlatched her jaw immediately from the wendigo as Victoria stood in front of her, assuming she'd have to defend from not only the beast, but the woman as well. In an instant she was sprayed with putrid blood, her pure, white fur quickly becoming a canvas for the vibrant art of violence.

There was a brief moment of confusion and realisation, and wild, silver eyes fixed themselves upon the vampire for long second. The wolf sneered, but seemed to accept her presence. Wendigos were not the easiest of beasts to bring down, and she was already bleeding freely from the wounds in both her sides. A huff...fine.

As the woman fell, a back handed swipe caught Fallon square in the face and sent her tumbling to the ground and rolling to a stop to shake the dizziness from her head. Blinking the black dots from her vision she looked up, and a furious growl tore from her lungs as the beast lifted a hooded foot in attempt to slam it down on Victoria's head. Fallon sprung to her feet and was quick to move, two strides and she was leaping onto the garish beast's back, claws dug into it's flesh and her jaw clamped down at the side of it's neck and she pulled her head back, trying to sever flesh from bone.
 
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Victoria O'Connor

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The monster's hoof slammed into the ground directly next to her head. There weren't any records of vampires being killed by crushing their skulls, but Victoria was not trying to be the first. She looked up, her ears ringing from the impact. First she saw the crater, and her stomach turned at how very, very close it had been. Then she saw a great silver wolf hanging from the back of the wendigo, all teeth and claws and savage fury. There was a fresh spray of gore as the lycan tore at the neck of its prey, and Victoria used this moment to push herself back to her feet.

Her fine gown had long since been torn, and her marble skin shone crimson and slick. She ripped off a loose shred of her skirt to avoid tripping over it, and it gave her more room to move her legs. She used this mobility to dart inwards again and stab at the creature's heart. Or... where she thought its heart should be.

The rapier bit deep into its chest, but the monster didn't stop. She stabbed again... and again, poking the beast full of holes as it clawed and clutched at Fallon on its back. Finally it seemed to take notice of her, and it reached down and grabbed her about the waist, hoisting her into the air with a weak "Gyaak!" as her ribs were squeezed. Had its forearm muscles not been weakened by her earlier attacks it may very well have broken her in two right then and there. As it was, it was just painful.

She wasn't given time to start slicing at its wrist before it hurled her back into her own carriage, which splintered as she crashed through its nearest wall.
 
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Fallon

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Fallon refused to let go even as the beast's claws tore into her. Silver eyes dilated as they fixed on the vampire housed in the wendigo's crushing grip, and she dug her back paws into the creatures back and raked, over and over into it's flesh, trying to force it to let go. Let go it did, but a little more violently than she'd expected. Her jaws unlatched as she watched the woman smash through the carriage and the wolf's ears pinned back, and she felt the briefest of urges to go to her..

She's not Olivia...

The momentary lapse in concentration cost her. The creature gripped hold of her by the scruff and lifted her from it's back to smash her into the ground with a yelp, and she only just managed to summon the strength to roll back to her feet before more loud and frantic thuds of it's hooves hammered into the ground. The wendigo was wilting as it lost more and more blood, but it wasn't dying quickly enough, nor was it going down without a fight it seemed.

Fallon's legs shook, and she managed to duck a violent sweep of the beast's barbed antlers before she pounced at it's throat and bit down. The creature screeched and flailed, once again tearing at Fallon's back with it's last ounce of energy until the wolf forcibly tore it's throat out and spit it on the bloody ground.

She fell then, with hardly a spot of white left in her fur and hardly an inch of her not scored by claws. The wendigo fell next, crumpling to it's knees and keeling forward to land on top of the panting wolf.
 
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Victoria O'Connor

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Victoria’s groaned as her vision slowly returned. The broken inside of the carriage swam into view, dual imaging swirling around in tighter and tighter circles until they finally rejoined as one. From the jagged mouth of her impact she could make out the wolf and the wendigo, the former leaping and bounding with supreme speed.

She went to push herself up, but she was stuck on something. Confused, she looked down to see a spear of wood, slick with blood, jutting from her belly.

”Ah, fuck...” she said under her breath. It was an inconvenience now, but she suppressed a shudder when she though about what would have happened if she’d been stuck through her heart.

She braced herself, and then slowly wrenched herself free, sliding painfully over the thick splinters with grit teeth and short, shallow breaths. With a cry of agonizing victory, she fell out of the ruined vehicle. Some blood fell from the gaping wound, but much less than would be expected. Already the edges were starting to mend, and within a day no one would know she had been hurt at all. Well, except for the huge hole in her corset.

In the time it took her to free herself, Fallon had slain the beast. Victoria felt the tremors as it fell, and she looked up to see the wolf crushed beneath it. She reached out instinctively, but drew her hand back. She is your enemy. But they had fought together, and the wolf had acted to save her more than once. Fallon’s well-placed attacks had not gone unnoticed, and Victoria herself had attempted to save the silver creature from certain death.

Why hadn’t she run? Why did she still not run? She approached the wendigo’s corpse like a timid deer, ready to bolt at any sign of movement. She poked at the dead flesh with her sword, no movement. Stowing the weapon, she got her hands under the corpse and heaved. More fresh blood seeped from her stomach as she exerted herself, and the veins in her neck and arms were taut. Slowly, very slowly, she managed to shove the behemoth just enough to free Fallon’s upper half.

Victoria outright stared at her. The wolf was still breathing, which delivered a cascade of mixed emotions. She couldn’t say what possessed her to do it, but she reached out a bloodied and delicate hand to stroke the creature’s ear. She had dealt with werewolves before... this one was different.
 
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Fallon

Alpha of the Garou
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Pained whines whistled from the wolf's bloody nose with every short, sharp puff of air. She couldn't summon the energy to push the nightmarish corpse from her and so she lay there, and would lay there until she'd healed enough to move, or until something helped or killed her instead. Her eyes closed with a deep huff as she tried to push the pain from her mind, but the task was proving difficult under the wendigo's crushing weight.

Her ears pivoted toward the sound of the vampire's movement, and she too wondered why the woman was still here.. to finish her off, perhaps? There was little she could do about it at this moment other than accept her death. How poetic it would be, to be murdered by a woman with the face of her love. Fallon's eyes opened on the woman as she felt the weight partially shifted from her body, a quiet growl rattling in her chest as she stared back at her.

Fallon silenced as the woman's hand reached out toward her, half expecting her to snap her neck and be done with it. And yet she felt the delicate hand on her ear and the aggression on her canine features softened and relaxed for a brief moment of confusion as she fixed her eyes on the woman, who wasn't Olivia, do something so very like Olivia that it was disarming. A soft, involuntary whine escaped her as she sighed and pulled her ears back as she tried to pull herself out from underneath the carcass, claws raking into the ground as she dug her way out.

A few steps away were all that she managed and she collapsed again, drawing deep breaths of air as her form slowly started to shrink. Bones snapped and jerked back into place, muscles rippled back to their original size and bloody fur seeped back under her olive skin now scored with angry, red slashes. The bleeding was slowing to a stop, but blood painted her skin almost in it's entirety, both her own and that of the wendigo.

Once again she was naked, sat in the grass and clutching at it for dear life as she cried inconsolably.
 
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Victoria O'Connor

Red Vampire
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She drew her hand back sharply as Fallon began to claw and clamber out from under the behemoth. A snap from those jaws would take her hand right off. The silver eyes were not looking at her, though, and Victoria stayed where she was as the wolf crawled just a few steps away. Her entire body was tense, and she felt tremors start in her legs.

The next transformation was not as graceful or fearsome as the last. It looked almost like a regression, a sad and slow shrinking back to a naked, trembling babe. And tremble she did. Victoria did not recognize what she was hearing at first. Was the werewolf crying?

Victoria’s face was once more twisted with disgust, albeit less vehement than before. She stood to approach Fallon, standing beyond arm’s reach. The naked woman's skin nearly matched the red tatters of Victoria's gown. With the fur now gone, it was clear just how much of a beating she had taken.

And still she did not run. Only two options should have been considered: kill the wolf, or flee. With the wendigo dead their alliance was severed, and she would much rather kill than be killed. But... she couldn't. Her hand was stayed by that same pestering something. Was it Fallon's beauty? Her nudity? Victoria was hardly puritanical, but the wildness of Fallon's image had caused... stirrings.

No... no it had to be something more. Her sister's name still rattled in her mind.

"What... are you doing?" she said in a voice not so much icy as it was disdainful. "Isn't your lot insufferably proud?" She stepped around, still careful to not get too close. Wounded animals were the most dangerous.
 
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Fallon

Alpha of the Garou
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Whatever this was, it was cruel. It had taken her years to move past Olivia's death and all of that pain had come rushing back to her at once, ripping her heart out all over again. What was worse was what this woman was. Fallon's mind was a mess of sheer conflict, the instinct to protect her because of her face, her beautiful face, was overwhelming and yet stood against everything that she was.

Fallon sneered and her shoulders tensed as the vampire spoke and she turned her head slightly though not far enough to look at her.. "Leave me. Go now, before my pack finds me. Never travel this way again." she told her coldly, clear warning in her tone. She could feel the worried nudges of her pack on her mind, they were looking for her, and she tried her best to block them out but she knew it would only worry them more. Gods, what would they think of her?

She ran her fingers into her bloody blonde hair and gripped as she pulled in a few panicked breaths into her starved lungs..

"GO!!" she demanded, the fury in her voice echoing through the mountain into the cool night air.
 
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Victoria O'Connor

Red Vampire
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Victoria remained still as Fallon spoke, but she tensed visibly. This was her chance. Go. Run. Flee. You are wounded, you are lost. Your servants are dead. Damnit Victoria get out of here. The final bark from the naked woman spurred her to action, and after two short steps back and a final gaze at that golden hair, she turned and hurried down the rough path.

She did not look back. More than once she felt the need to check if she was being followed, but she was afraid that if she set eyes on the lycanthrope again she would once again be unable to leave her. What in the hells had that been about? She was Lady O'Connor. She was no thin-willed waif who simpered at every gorgeous woman that appeared. Fuck, she surrounded herself with them regularly, be they thralls or other vampires or food.

But she is different. Victoria swallowed, finding it difficult to focus on the road ahead. "Yeah, she's a fucking mutt," she said under her breath.

She is powerful.

"I am powerful."

She is wild.

"She is barbaric."

She is free.

"Shut UP!!!"


Victoria screeched into the night, grabbing at her own head and standing hunched and panting in the sorry excuse for a road. She whispered madly, "I am free. I do whatever the fuck I want. I am Lady of Greyrock. That bitch... she probably just wanted to hunt me down. She's probably setting her filthy pack after me right now."

She continued on, still muttering to herself and shivering in pain, fatigue, and anger. "Stupid, vile, mongrel whore, talking to me like she knows me. Do I look like your dead bitch, cunt? Does it upset you that she looks like a vampire? Ha! Yeah, maybe we're fucking relat--"

She stopped dead in her tracks. Her face immediately drained of all anger as all of her previous thoughts were swept away. She whirled around, staring behind her into the darkness, half hoping that she would see Fallon pursuing her. She bit her lip, drawing blood as the conflict inside built to a breaking point.

Several minutes of silence, and then:

"Fuck." She said in plain, defeated monotone, and started to walk back the way she had come.
 
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Fallon

Alpha of the Garou
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She felt an ache in her chest as she listened to the woman leave, suppressing the urge not to watch her go, not to get up and call her back. Now she really would never see that face again, her face. It had been the most surreal of experiences, that someone, a vampire, could show up in the dead of night and break her heart all over again in a matter of moments. Oh but she was beautiful.

"She's...not...Olivia.." she repeated to herself out loud this time in a shuddered breath, as though that fact just simply wasn't going in. Fallon replayed the woman's insults and taunts in her mind as a reminder that she was as cruel and heartless as the rest of them. But, that touch. There was a gentleness to it, and the feeling of her hand seemed to linger long after she'd left.

"She's dead, Fal. She's been dead for years, and she's not coming back.." she whispered to herself, casting her gaze skyward toward the crescent moon and she sighed a slow silvery mist into the air before pulling herself to her feet with a grimace at the pain in her wounds.

Tears stopped, but they left tracks of pale skin on her bloody face. The smell of the wendigo's putrid blood drying on her skin was driving her nuts, and she padded gingerly down the embankment to the slow running stream that glistened in the moonlight below, and submerged herself entirely in the icy water and rubbed her skin clean.

As she surfaced, her silver gaze, wide and intense, settled on the vampire who'd returned and Fallon's jaw clenched. She strode from the stream with the sound of rushing water, and with a few quick strides she was in front of the woman again, dripping wet and panting tiny plumes into the cold air, her chest lifting and falling quickly as she stared, no glared at her..

"I told you.. not to come back this way.." her brows furrowed in confusion, and her tone void of the aggression it'd held before she'd left.. "Why did you come back?.." she asked quickly and took a step closer.
 

Victoria O'Connor

Red Vampire
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What are you doing. Turn back now. These thoughts raced through her head but still he legs carried her forwards, retracing her steps in the dirt and moving steadily back to the very one who had told her to never return. This isn't worth it. There are lots of Olivias. She's probably crazy, half moon-drunk. The wind through the trees was a static background to her thoughts. The sound of an owl ignored entirely in her rapidly degenerating mental state.

But what if? It was all that kept her going. What. If. She had never seen her family again after her twentieth birthday, the thought of them was too sad at first and after decades she had stopped caring. After only a century she learned that her name had fallen to ruin, lost all power and titles. The bloodline had surely ended, why else would Greyrock have crumbled into disrepair?

But what if? She knew her older sister had married, and married women bore children. Surely Olivia, the pride of her parents' eyes, and the perfect lady to carry on their estate, would have done her duty gladly and borne many such devils. And maybe some of them had married and had children, and perhaps those children, too, had lived on. The name might have changed over time, the claims and titles might have drifted... it was a long shot but what if?

So engrossed was she in these spirals that only Fallon's clear voice broke her focus, and she stopped suddenly by the riverbank and stared at the woman. For a second, she was glad to see her. This was almost immediately replaced with caution and resurfacing disdain, but in those first moments of surprise she could not stop her eyes from sweeping over every inch of her exposed, dripping skin.

She held her ground as the woman stepped closer. The air seemed less thick this time, and the werewolf's question seemed almost sincere curiosity. The vampire took a deep breath to calm herself before speaking.

"What was her surname? Livvy. What was her family name?" Scarlet eyes met silver, and there they stayed (with effort). There was no anger in her gaze, only determination and the barest hint of desperation.
 
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