Samara Asenta
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Samara felt the bark beneath her finger tips give way as they sank into the tree beside her. Her lips parted to let out a heated breath and left cool air wash over her fangs. The Vampire hadn't blinked once as Ander fought with the pair of cultists. It had taken conscious effort to not leap into the fray. Every muscle in her body screamed for her to rip, bite, and tear through them. To feel the warmth of their blood as it splattered across her face and wash down her gullet.
A smile twisted Samara's lips as Ander briefly turned to look at her. Then she vanished from beside the tree to reappear a short distance off with a kick along the ground before she vanished again. She panted as the desire to rend the living limb from limb clawed at her mind. Ander supported it. The cultists begged for it. Live? Live, they wanted? They would need to kill her. Kill them to do it. It was Dshara's way to discovered what life was worthy of occupying the realm; those unworthy were sacrificed on the altar of progress.
Her foot snapped out at the side of one of those fleeing to cripple it. They were left behind as the pale monster lunged for another; the nails of her hand sharpened as Samara's maw opened wide with her fangs eagerly seeking the man's neck.
The two rolled over on the ground with Samara's arms tightly wrapped about her prey as the blood poured over her tongue. The white hot rings stared across as the one whose knee she'd injured. Samara watched their look of terror mixed with the pain as they tried to stand. A one-legged hobble to escape her clutches. Amusing. There was no hope in such a thing. No mercy by that which hunted them.
Once they were dispatched, Samara would calmly check for any blood on her face and that her hair wasn't a mess before she set out in search for her Elven lover. It never hurt to look presentable at all times. After all, Dshara wasn't a beast, so her Priestess couldn't make people think that just from appearances alone.
Ander'ashan Merellien
[OOC: Other player no longer available to participate. Thread on hiatus.]
A smile twisted Samara's lips as Ander briefly turned to look at her. Then she vanished from beside the tree to reappear a short distance off with a kick along the ground before she vanished again. She panted as the desire to rend the living limb from limb clawed at her mind. Ander supported it. The cultists begged for it. Live? Live, they wanted? They would need to kill her. Kill them to do it. It was Dshara's way to discovered what life was worthy of occupying the realm; those unworthy were sacrificed on the altar of progress.
Her foot snapped out at the side of one of those fleeing to cripple it. They were left behind as the pale monster lunged for another; the nails of her hand sharpened as Samara's maw opened wide with her fangs eagerly seeking the man's neck.
The two rolled over on the ground with Samara's arms tightly wrapped about her prey as the blood poured over her tongue. The white hot rings stared across as the one whose knee she'd injured. Samara watched their look of terror mixed with the pain as they tried to stand. A one-legged hobble to escape her clutches. Amusing. There was no hope in such a thing. No mercy by that which hunted them.
Once they were dispatched, Samara would calmly check for any blood on her face and that her hair wasn't a mess before she set out in search for her Elven lover. It never hurt to look presentable at all times. After all, Dshara wasn't a beast, so her Priestess couldn't make people think that just from appearances alone.
Ander'ashan Merellien
[OOC: Other player no longer available to participate. Thread on hiatus.]
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