Dark night, isn't it?

Look at the moon.

Or rather, the lack of it.

Tonight, Beth isn't a wolf. Tonight, on the dark moon, she's just a girl.

She's gone walking, alone, in a bad neighborhood.

No, she isn't sane. Glad you asked.

The yellow sundress makes her almost glow by the light of the streetlamp - she's wearing it for old times sake.

She wears mostly blacks and reds, these days. The wolf likes them.

Odin moved like the shadow he was. His steps were precise and swift as he slunk from one place to another. His shadow could only be seen against the fuzzy light of the streetlamps.

His eyes were bright and full of lust. His heart beat with the rush of finding someone wandering the streets.

He's dressed in something you'd expect a homeless person to wear. Except the clothing's black and... Goth-y.

He stepped behind her, silent as a ghost perhaps even to her enhanced sense of hearing. He put his hands over her eyes all in one precise movement.

"Guess who?"

His voice was as chilly as his eyes and his cold, pale hands.

"Creep?"

She flinches away from him, turning, or trying.

Yeah, Beth. Smooth.

Real smooth.

You, my dear girl?

Are an idiot.

An idiot.

His grip on her only tightened, gouging his fingers into her eyes. Are they closed or opened? Either way he's still gouging, if only slightly. More like putting faint pressure on them.

"I am the very thing you should fear most. The very reason you shouldn't walk these streets alone at night."

A cynical smirk.

"What, my period?"

...

I don't know where that came from. I have no clue.

She's insane.

And the eye thing? It hurts. A lot.

She bites his hand.

Feral lass, she is.

Beth? You're still an idiot, and you still can't deal with anything, and you're still an abject failure at any form of life.

Loser.

He let out a sharp and deep chuckle.

"Close, but not quite."

Odin only smiled as she bit him. He's a masochist, you see. He likes pain.

His left hand strayed to her throat, squeezing. Digging sharp nails into the tender flesh. Boys shouldn't be allowed to have nails that long or sharp.

"Strrrrrrriiiiiike one."

She still hasn't managed to turn around enough to face him.

"Bastard." She gritted.

The wolf hates this. The wolf wants to hurt him back.

It's the dark of the moon. The wolf is powerless. She is powerless. She can't do anything without the wolf.

Worthless girl.

Worthless human.

...Beth, without the wolf, is scared.

The more scared she becomes, the more human she becomes.

Ironically, she hasn't been this human in months.

Ow.

"Something you're going to do about it?" He asked in a purr, his right hand pulling and drifting down to her stomach. He hovered over her neck, warm breath lacing it. He bit down where neck and shoulder connected.

ARrrrrrgh.

Argh.

Growl.

She tried to bite him again, semblences of real thought forgotten.

Enemy. Fight. No flight.

But she couldn't reach.

She should scratch, though. She has long nails too.

...as a side note, the wolf is...

no, wolfie.

Just.. no.

Violence is not attractive, whatever you think. Whatever, however, the strength might appeal.

Violence, towards you, is not a healthy attraction. Stupid girl. Stupid wolf.

Beth didn't have her wolf. That was Odin's advantage. He swept her feet from underneath her, snatching a fistful of hair before she got a chance to fall.

...ow?

Yes.

Ow.

She yelped.

Rather like a kicked puppy, actually.

She was having trouble breathing. It was, at the moment, the only thing she was concentrating on. At this angle, breathing became a main consideration.

Odin carelessly let her go and stopped biting her. Bloody teeth marks were clearly visible where her neck and shoulder connected. That was also a pressure point, so would hurt.

He drove a knee into her stomach after she fell on her back.

Pant.

She was on hands and knees now. Crawling.

Wolves are comfortable on hands and knees.

She is more.. comfortable.. this way.

Comfortable enough that she can growl again.

Growling makes her feel better.

She feels better.

Is she comfortable now that he's sitting on top of her as if she were some sort of mule?

The growls only made him laugh.

"Pitiful."

Beth would have to agree.

Thankfully, she isn't the one who has to balance in this situation.

Get.

Off.

Up she gets, painful standing. I think she has bruises (multiple).