A Rose tied in Black Ribbon

[Masquerade]

Masquerade!
Paper faces on parade . . .
Masquerade!
Hide your face,
so the world will
never find you!

Masquerade!
Every face a different shade . . .
Masquerade!
Look around -
there's another
mask behind you!

Serpetine movements of flexed muscles shivered down the faes sleek frame . Her firery red coat bristtling in the cool evenings breeze, its orange and yellow hues glowing under the bright eye of Artemis in the heavens. The gorgeous form of the femmora slunk through the viridian tapestry, the claws not daring to put a mark on her pristine coat. Not a single scar scathed her hide, her bodice was perfect and slvete. But not to say she hasn't been in fights. No, no, don't go thinking that hunnies, this wench has had her share of brawls, the only reason she remained unscarred was she won ever battle she entered. As her elongated limbs stretched over the terra, her pretty little head was cast Heavenwards. Gazing at the stars littering the nights sky, interupting the darkness.

Stars. Pathetic. They call them the diamonds of the sky. As if. They say gold is one of the most precious valuable things. I think not. To me diamonds are much much more desirable. Diamonds are priceless. A girl's best friend? Maybe not. Try everyones enemy perhaps? Diamonds, as any half witted fool knows, are the strongest, toughest, and hardest rare jewel. And am I not a diamond? Certainly I am, desirable, craved, seductive, and a gem. Heres another little tid bit for ya, a diamond can only be cut by another diamond. Now, don't call me conceded dearies, but I severly doubt that there are any other diamonds around here. And now is the time for this diamond to shine...

Deep rich hues, painted in fire by the starlight encircled her tempting form. Her appearance was striking, her pelt was the hue that evening sky takes on as Fenris lowers beneath the veil of the Earth and Tor rises for her reign of the night, a deep golden yellow as the sunset. Her eyes were a vibrant yellow, and laced around each eye was a thin line of obsidian creating the effect as if she was wearing a Masquerade mask, hence the name. Her pistons were encircled in thick muscles causing each movement she took to be smooth and flowing as that of a ballerina. Her graceful steps made her appear as an angel, as she danced to the tune ringing inside her fathomless mind. An angel of music. But don't be fooled, this little performer is no sweatheart. Just as the actress on the stage she has two personalities, that of the person she plays, and that of who she really is. And that dearies is a bloodthirsty murderer. Her personality resembles a rose tied with an eloquent black ribbon. Its beauty evident, but that black ribbon of hate encircling the very stem of her soul.

Masquerade!
Grinning yellows,
spinning reds . . .
Masquerade!
Take your fill -
let the spectacle
astound you!

Masquerade!
Burning glances,
turning heads . . .
Masquerade!
Stop and stare
at the sea of smiles
around you!

Well kept, but not blunt claws dug into the hard terra, feeling the ground beneath her change as she entered the new land confidently. The demoness was coiled within the shadows, they were velvety and silky, strangly invitingly welcoming. They encased her in their proverbial blanket. A gold lobe flickered from its pinned position atop her flame colored poll. A snort erupted from her bottomless chambers, as black as the fires of Hell. Rims receded from the gentle touch that bonded them as they curved into a cynical grin,

"Come out come out wherever you are..."

Her words were carried on deep tones that emerged from the rotting depths of her cage. Her voice was a peculiar one for a fae, much deeper than most she-wolf's tones. She wasn't speaking to anyone in particular, merely looking for any varg to converse with. Tassle was hung low, resting upon the soft blossoming terra. Paper thin portholes took in another life sustaining breath of oxygen, spreading the element through her bodice. Her build wasn't the largest, but what she lacked in size she more than made up for in stealth. She was a creature of darkness, capable of navigating the shadows in even the thickest foliage.

The demoness' flawless coat gleamed a flaming red, the same color that fire takes on as it is fed my the burning embers of the forest. Much like a fire her presence was overpowering, spreading out and enveloping everything in its thick layer of death and tarnish. This effect took place as the seductress graced the presence of the new terra, her hot breath pouring out as steam into the lithosphere. Lips receded, showing off her long pure ivron fangs, as her elongated nape arched her crania to the sky releasing a howl deeper than the recesses of space. It's beautiful tones spread over the terra like blood spreads on the ground after a fresh kill. The rustic notes of her song slowly faded as a surreal mist. Her limbs caressed the plumes of an impedimental fog that had begun to congeal around her quarters. And here she waited patiently for anyone who would approach her. Of course anyone who did see her now wouldn't dream to think of her as a heartless liar, for no one ever thinks of the beautiful of being anything more than pretty. But Masquerade severely broke that trend.

Masquerade!
Seething shadows
breathing lies . . .
Masquerade!
You can fool
any friend who
ever knew you!

Masquerade!
Leering satyrs,
peering eyes . . .
Masquerade!
Run and hide -
but a face will
still pursue you!

Masquerade lyrics Copyright to Andrew Lloyd Webber from The Phantom of the Opera.

[Larka]

Larka fell into the deep snow. Her deep hazel eyes looked frightened as she looked upto this wolf. She got up and took a step back, her little eyes looked a little watery as she stared at the wolf. Something told her that it wasn't best she stumbled into her. In instint she ran as fast as she could, her little legs kept on tripping over. She was full of fear.