Author's Note: based loosely around Gorean roleplays
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She paces back and forth across the decking, her low growling growing. Too long she has been suppressed, thoughts flutter through her mind that she should have accepted His offer, and yet here she stands collar still locked securely on her throat.
Her fingers grasp the steel, fingernails scraping across her skin, she screams out into the silent woods surrounding the Home. Even the wind dares not stir as her rage, her wildness, the panther deep within begins to surface.
She turns towards the woods and sprints across the decking and leaps the railing, landing crouched in the cool grass, her heart racing, her soul screaming for more, emeralds glances around and then she moves quickly.
Her form nothing but a dark blur in the shadows of the moon. Her panther crawls under her skin, seeking the freedom of the night, she sprints from the grounds of the Home, the silence of the night deafening as she moves through the darkness, even the land around her is afraid of the beast that claws beneath her surface.
Her heart pounding wildly in her ears, her feet carrying her further and further away, her breathe trailing in the cool night air, the freedom of the run releasing her from all that pushes on her. The panther reaching the surface, she cries out in freedom, she gives into the one struggling forth.
Time blurs as she runs blindly away from the Home, her pace begins to slow and before she knows it she is walking. Sweat glistening across her silken flesh, the wild panther calms in her. Leaning against a tree she tilts her head up, emeralds closing to the night around her and takes a deep breath.
The woods are still silent, as if anticipating her attack, yet her soul is temporarily satiated. Her form sliding down the shadow of the tree, her eyes still closed but her mind open, she listens for the sounds to begin again.
Her eyes fly and her body stiffens as she hears a single twig break some distance from her. The night had remained silent because she wasn't alone. Why hadn't she thought of that? She shifts to a crouch as her cat like greens scan her surroundings.
Goosebumps cover her flesh as she feels the energy of the night increasing, battle coming soon. Suppressing her growl she grabs a thick stick that is nearby and melts into the darker shadows of the night, awareness whispering of dread across her.
A hand grabs her upper left arm from behind her; she turns with the moment of the grab the stick heading towards the attackers head. The force landing across his forearm he growls out as his grip loosens enough for her to slip free.
"Bitch!" he growled rubbing his arm, thankful that his reflexes were still quick. He prowled silently, knowing her scent all too well. He hunted his prey. She wanted to revert back to how he had found her... he will at least remind her of who truly had the upper hand.
She controlled her breathing, her mind racing with many thoughts, knowing that she could not be captured. She had to escape. She tried to force calm into her mind but something was familiar. Something was slightly different, but she couldn't place it. All she could think of was returning home... but which way was home?
A smirk slid across his features as he trailed her. He was close. He could hear her soft breathing. His trip back Home had been long and he was tired, but this little unexpected surprise was just what he needed.
Then it happened. A flash of steel, a sharp edge to her throat, a growl of pain as her body slammed to the ground beneath her, a male pinning her. Her nails rack across his face as she tries to twist from his grasp, the blade pressed enough to draw a line of blood.
"Enough!" he growled. His face was hidden to her because of his traveling clothes, but she still felt the heat of his breath as he leaned forward and inhaled her deeply. She lay beneath him trembling in rage, a small line of blood making her boil.
The knife still tightly to her throat he pulls her up from the ground and slams her against the nearest tree. The wind again knocked out of her. Her mind screaming in rage as his free hand moves across her form, trying to explore her.
Her panther having too much control, her reactions not well thought out, she grabs the blade of the knife and twists it away from her throat, the dull pain of a slice across her palm as she feels the warmth of her blood flow from the injury.