Run! Run! Run! Faster! Faster! A lithe, black-skinned cat with White fur darted through the lush forest. Its smooth fur was covered an indigo colored blood from cuts and wounds all over its legs and face. It was about the size and shape of an undersized panther. Its eyes were blurred and only saw the wavy greens and browns pass its vision. It was traveling in a very straight line, avoiding turns that might slow its path. It was running frantically. Straight through bushes and grazing tree trunks, it ran straight. And this cat was no ordinary cat. One could tell just by sight. Its peculiar coloring and adept speed weren't normal.
Keep going! Can't stop! Don’t stop! It ran and ran, bushes, trees...PERSON! The cat collided with the man who blended in so well with the bush and came to a halting stop. Good thing it was smaller than a panther. With the large collision, the feline crashed into the ground and skidded along, tumbling and rolling. The bloody cat madly clambered to its feet and immediately collapsed on its front left leg. The cat hissed, which quickly became a much more human yip as the animal wasn’t an animal anymore.
A small nekkid young woman clutched her arm and stood, her eyes wide with fear at the person she hit and she stumbled backwards and away from him. She was completely exhausted and panting, hardly able to breathe. Because of her blood, her throat and tone were not red like a normal person's She was a Black-skinned...Drow? The four foot and three inch girl was a tiny and fully matured Drow Elf of about twenty-five years of age. She may have looked younger because of her size, but her body showed her to be much more than a child. Her Elf ears were longer and covered with soft, white fur that matched her hair, and down her back was a matching cat tail. What kind of Drow was she?? She had elongated canines and her red eyes were semi slit like a cat's.
The small girl's arms and legs and cheeks were covered with very shallow, and clean cuts that were deep enough, and clean enough to bleed well. The blood stained her white hair that came down her face in long bangs and choppy down the back of her neck, cut messy. Her expression toward the man she his was that of utter fear and she stumbled away like crazy. Without even a word, the nekkid, and well-shaped young woman turned and ran off in her condition, only to be cut off by another just when she began to make distance between her and the first man.
A white man appeared in front of the small girl with equally impressive speed. White skin, black hair, and red eyes. This man was a white Drow. His lips were tinted slightly blue, sharing the same color blood as the girl. A frightening smirk covered his features, his teeth showing and his eyes wide. His ebony hair was pulled tight behind his head and fluffed up after the tie. Two braids were hung down in front of each ear, coming down to mid bicep. His left eye supported a fancy red tattoo that reached from above his brow, on his eyelid, and finished at his cheek. It encircled his left eye and was very noticeable on his features. He wore dark clothing suited to his combat preference. H e wore a loose, sleeveless v-neck shirt, thick band that wrapped his torso, and baggy pants tied under the knees. Shin guards and stealth shoes covered his legs. The White Drow wielded a katana in his left hand, the hilt upward and the blade downward so he could use it to guard against his arm. Wrappings covered his forearms and his right forearm was covered with metal spikes coming up from his skin and through the wrappings.
His eyes were locked onto the girl, his arms relaxed at his sides. He stood almost lazily, his head craned to one side and tilted with his crooked smile. "Kitten." He called softly, his armed hand extending and holding up her chin with the base of his sword. He looked into her eyes and his grin widened.
The girl froze in her tracks when her pursuer cut her off. She crossed her arms and closed her eyes tight, about to lower her head when her chin was propped up. She winced, her head forced upward and her scared eyes opened widely at him. Her body trembled all over and her tail fell between her legs, wrapping around one of them. Her ears tipped back and she just stood there in shock. Still breathing heavily, her wary body wobbled and tears began to run down her face. Still she said nothing and stood still.
He took another step closer to her. He was five feet and ten inches, but she was still short in comparison, so he held her head up while he looked down at her. His spike-covered hand then came around and rested on the back of her head, holding her in place. He watched the blood trail down her beautiful face, trickling its way down to her equally beautiful figure. She had a wonderful build, so slender and supple, while equally tone and fit. She was a beautiful athlete, one he LOVED to toy with. She was the only one he had ever found interest in. And she would be his and his alone. She was everything he wanted. And strangely enough, all of his affections for her were non-sexual related. In fact, sex had never crossed his mind before. His whole life had warped since he was captured and enslaved. Arousal was unknown to him. He just did what he liked, and he liked unique things.
