#Default Verse[Naafiri]

[shimmerbeasts]

The only reason she was willing to wear anything red was because it was a gift from Naafiri. In the name of their partnership, LeBlanc was willing to make such a small sacrifice. Tying cloak around her neck and pulling the hood on, she swirled around to present herself to the Darkin to judge if either she looked good in it or not. "I must admit red is not my go-to color; I leave it to my partner since it suits him much better." Talking about Vladimir reminded her that there were other matters she wished to discuss with the desert terror. "Would you be free to chat? There is something I need your assistance with." Her voice switched from a lighter tone to a serious one, as if something were weighing on her mind. "There is information I believe you possess that would be of great importance to a friend of mine." Or for herself, to keep Vladimir safe from his previous master.

The cloak had been given to LeBlanc by a tribesman, dressed in blood red. The fabric was quite common around Shurima, worn to protect you from the hot winds and the unforgiving gaze of the sun. However, its red colour was certainly not. The traveller was standing on a lithe, wooden sledge, pulled by two of Naafiri's packmates. The man did not look like he was the musher of the hounds, but more like he was made to follow them.

The main body's yellow eyes remained transfixed on LeBlank as she did a little twirl to show off the traveller's cloak. Naafiri wagged their tail in approval and the two pack mates hoarsely barked, excited and curious as they inspected the Black Rose's Matriarch. The Darkin said: "Well, we for one think, red suits you quite a bit."

As soon as LeBlank's tone changed, Naafiri flicked the main body's ear. The pendant jingled a bit. The Darkin stared at the musher and under an itching and stitching sound, the poor man's mouth became covered in bloodied tendrils as his lips were sewn shut. His ears popped, and he let out a startled whine. The Darkin wagged their tail at the sledge.

"Hop on", Naafiri insisted, "It is going to make keeping up with our pace faster. Plus we won't be tempted to eat your mule again." Their long, crimson tongue licked across jagged fangs, causing the mule to snort and throw its head up in alarm. Once LeBlanc had made herself comfortable on the sledge, the dune hounds took off. They were not sprinting just yet, though they were trotting at quite a rapid pace.

Naafiri spoke: "We believe, it would depend greatly on the information, you wish to acquire from us. There may be certain things, we may not be willing to disclose. Even so, speak, LeBlank."

@blackrosesmatron cont. from here.

[blackrosesmatron]

👚 + a red shawl/cloak, similar to what people might wear when travelling in a desert, from Naafiri (No, I have no idea where this would be going either)

Send 👚 + an Item of clothing that my muse has no choice but to wear to see their reaction

The only reason she was willing to wear anything red was because it was a gift from Naafiri. In the name of their partnership, LeBlanc was willing to make such a small sacrifice.

Tying cloak around her neck and pulling the hood on, she swirled around to present herself to the Darkin to judge if either she looked good in it or not. "I must admit red is not my go-to color; I leave it to my partner since it suits him much better." Talking about Vladimir reminded her that there were other matters she wished to discuss with the desert terror.

"Would you be free to chat? There is something I need your assistance with." Her voice switched from a lighter tone to a serious one, as if something were weighing on her mind. "There is information I believe you possess that would be of great importance to a friend of mine." Or for herself, to keep Vladimir safe from his previous master.

[shimmerbeasts]

The sudden quaking of the ground caused Naafiri to back away from Rek'Sai. The pack began to grow restless, individual pack mates leaping back and forth, howling and barking. "Something approaches! Something is near! Something approaches! Something is near! Death, death, death!" Naafiri's ears swivelled around as they scented the air, desperately trying to locate the approaching threat.

The ground split open in a violent eruption. The main body leapt backwards, blades rustling as a cloud of rock and dust rose. Small stones hit the Darkin's back and shoulders. Naafiri flinched and coiled in on themselves, trying to shield their main body from the sudden hailstorm.

A huge, blind mole-like beast dug itself out of the soil. Its beak-like maw opened in a roar, revealing rows upon rows of serrated teeth. Its front legs ended in paws with huge claws. the remaining pairs of legs framed a centipede-like body, each ending in a hook of its own. Naafiri barely registered Rek'Sai escaping, too busy staring at the roaring titan. It was not nearly as large as its mother, but it still was nothing to sneeze at.

Naafiri ground their fangs and whispered under their breath the Shuriman equivalence of 'Are you kidding me?'. They could not believe what they were seeing. Every fibre of their body burned. The pack had been diminished greatly in its fight against the Queen of the Xer'Sai. Naafiri did not have enough blood in them or bodies to reforge themselves into the same size, which they had used to battle Rek'Sai.

Xerxa'Reth seemed to sense Naafiri's weakness. The titan turned around and began to crawl towards them. Naafiri gasped and forced themselves back on all fours. The pack swiftly rushed to their aid, forming a protective barrier of forth protruding horns. The Darkin slowly backed away, growling, as they wrecked their mind on how to get out of this situation.

The battle raging below was, perhaps, the most intense that Shurima had witnessed in centuries. Ascended and Darkin fought furiously against the forces of the Void, and neither side would be content until the other was totally eradicated. Naafiri's numbers may be dwindling, but the queen of the Xer'Sai looked to be nearing her limits.

With the Dunebreakers gone, Xerath could return all of his attention back toward Rek'Sai herself. The Magus's magic cracked and eroded thick scales, and Naafiri's steel and teeth buried into unnatural flesh. It seemed as if Rek'Sai's end was nigh...

But then, the Voidborn let out another piercing screech, loud enough to be heard for miles. The ground erupted, and another massive beast made itself known. This Titan had come to the defense of its progenitor: her eldest child, and a beast who had been mockingly named after Xerath himself.

Using the brief distraction of the Titan's emergence, Rek'Sai hastily burrowed once more, fleeing the scene while she entrusted her children to finish the fight.

[shimmerbeasts]

So Far From Home

Some cubs were born practically fearless.

It was hard to say whether that lack of fear came from the slumbering string of Darkin conscience inside of them, which while not yet being able to control them the same way it strongarmed the adults, still influenced the little rascals as they discovered the world around them. Usually a cub would be under the watchful eyes of one of the packmates. However, once every while one of them managed to break loose and explore the world on its own.

As did this cub. Naafiri and the pack had tracked a robber and its mule towards one of the old ruins, scattered across all of Shurima. It still felt alien to look upon monuments built in honour of dead warriors and emperors and know exactly who they used to be when alive. The crumbling ruins and the mountains of sand, covering the stone, convinced the Darkin even further how Shurima oughta be owned by the wildlife and not by humans. Maybe it had been these ponderings, which made the pack lose sight of one of the cubs. Maybe it had smelled something promising and fell into a sprint of its own.

The cub after a fast, slightly wobbly sprint stopped in a bush and gasped for breath. The hot sun was baking its thin red fur with muscles so dense, it seemed as if it was carrying around more blood than it needed. That same blood was whispering and churning in its veins, telling of powers the little whelp was far too young to grasp yet. Even so, it strutted through that bush, pointy, slim tail raised, head held high, ears swivelling and the small shard of a Darkin dagger reflecting the light from above.

There. The puppy caught the smell of a lone traveller, wandering through the desert, perhaps looking for some shelter or shade. It poked its head through the blades of long grass as it inspected the traveller. They were on their own, urging a half-blind mule forward. The animal's ears swivelled around and its walk was unsteady. The rider was dressed in heavy, dark brown clothes, draped over a slender frame. Too many layers if the smell of sweat was anything to go by. The little cub put its ears back and revealed a small maw full of sharp, pointy teeth.

The whelp released a loud bark, trying to sound as threatening as it could, however, it sounded more like a hoarse squeak. It then came running at the mule and tried to jump the animal. Yipping and snapping at its hooves, it caused the half-blind animal to rear up a touch, whining in displeasure. Its swinging front hooves missed the puppy by mere inches. The little fellow remained undeterred, barking loudly as it kept growling at the mule, paws pressed into the soil ears pushed back. It was behaving like it was thinking of itself as a much bigger and more powerful animal.

Perhaps not even an animal at all.

@veiled-lady

[shimmerbeasts]

@heredis-sanguinis cont. from here. That feeling of ancient and monstrous dread returned. Stronger, closer, right there with him. His eyes beheld the form it took. For a moment Vladimir considered that his senses were playing tricks on him. This… canine, or whatever it was, could never possibly be the source of it. Or could it. Apprehensively he watched the creature until it finally clicked in his mind. The blood he took all those centuries ago, that flowed within him, mixed with his own. It called out, furiously and almost longingly. As if it was akin to each other. “Darkin…” he slowly said. A name he had not uttered for many lifetimes. A name he would never had hope to encounter once again. But it was not the same as his former master. No, this was different. But at the same time, oh so similar. Just being in the same area was enough to make every muscle of his body tense. It hadn’t attacked him, yet. Perhaps it was not seeking retribution. Would it even know of his actions? Of his master? “What is it that brings you to me?”

Ah, delicious fear!

Naafiri's nostrils twitched a touch as the main body inhaled the air, taking in the smell of the creature before it. Vladimir smelled of an ancient fear, stronger and sweatier almost as if his body had not felt fright in a long time. At the same time, there was a thrumming hum and pounding in Naafiri's innards like someone was striking the strings of an invisible instrument. Darkin blood. Right in front of her. In the body of a charlatan, who had stretched his pesky skin so thin, his face had turned waxen and his flesh yellow. Vladimir looked less like a lord and more like the corpses, he was dealing in.

This development would certainly be interesting. Naafiri's main body cocked its head aside as the other one called them a Darkin. The pendant jingled against a silver grey and dark red cheek. Out of the yellow eyes of the other packmates, Vladimir was surrounded and looked both pompous and outdated at the same time. His frail-looking body was concealed by a large, billowing, wine-red rope with an ostentatious collar like the frills on the neck of a lizard.

Yet as human as he tried to look, as gallant as he wanted to appear - predictable, petty human arrogance -, right now, his body was as much controlled by an animal as Naafiri's was. It made them wonder how adept he was at reading her. Far too many people had failed. Even the other Darkin seemed to struggle to see beyond their host's body and failed in reading the language, Naafiri employed these days.

"We have a name, you know", Naafiri said as they stalked closer towards Vladimir, "It's Naafiri. Saying Darkin is about as insulting as calling a wolf a wolf. You are stating the obvious. As for what brings us to you, Vladimir? Merely curiosity. A lot of intriguing details travel across the sandy roads. One of such details spoke of a creature, drenched in blood, in Noxus. We thought it may have been one of our brethren, but instead, we find you. Tell us, whose life-bearer were you?"

[shimmerbeasts]

In her many centuries of life, Emilia never imagined she would grow so close to a Darkin, let alone earn their trust. Yet, Naafiri had become surprisingly comfortable in her company, even when the entire pack was drained and low on energy. For once, the Deceiver felt the same weariness.

Without asking for permission, Emilia lowered herself to the ground, letting the coarse sands of Shurima embrace her as she settled beside the primary body of the Darkin. She rested her head against Naafiri's back, hearing the sounds the dune hound's body was making. The many protection spells and the high walls of her main residence could not compare on how comfortable and safe the Matron felt at resting beside Naafiri.

Naafiri could easily end her life with a single command to the pack or with a snap of her own jaws. The thought crossed Emilia's mind, but she dismissed it. She trusted the Darkin not to take advantage of such an opportunity. After all, if she would meet her end, she'd prefer it to be by Naafiri's teeth than by the hands of the Iron Revenant.

Shurima was a hot country; especially around noon, the heat could become so oppressive that it sapped even the largest and strongest predators of their strength. They fled into burrows and shades, wherever they were available. The whole pack had found its sanctuary in the gorge with its intricate tunnel system, which Naafiri used to rear the pups their female pack mates gave birth to.

Without clouds to shield them, the sun burned down upon the sand and dry rocks. Long, lean, red bodies were hugging the available shades, which barely covered up the gorge. The main body had rested upon a smooth rock, which thanks to its positioning was almost completely shrouded in shadows. Naafiri lay upon it, head between their paws and unwilling to move.

Once every while their pointy ears swivelled backwards to hark for any noises. Outside of the heavy pants and snores of their pack and the occasional yelps of the puppies, who were annoyed by the heat and restless in the dens, the only other sound, Naafiri could make out, was the occasional shifting of the Matriarch of the Black Rose. Emilia LeBlank leaned against their flank, head rested on their back and stared up into the sky.

Without a doubt, had they not known each other as well as they did these days, Naafiri would have eaten the pale woman. The Darkin had given up their faith in humanity and society at large after Azir and Nasus had betrayed her for her services. As far as Naafiri was concerned, Shurima belonged to the animals and anyone traversing the sands, was food. Noxian or Shuriman... It did not matter. At the end of the day, they all bled red. The only reason, LeBlank had salvaged her hide, was by offering up cattle of her own.

"Arrggghhh!" A wretched growl escaped the dune hound's lips. Naafiri shook their head a bit, making the blades around their neck jiggle. "Can this sun move any slower?! We'd disappear into a den if we had the space." Naafiri peered up into the sky and squinted their yellow eyes at the offending, flaming ball over their head. The raining season could not come soon enough!

They craned their neck around to look at Emilia. Wetting their maw, Naafiri inquired: "You do not happen to have any transported water on you, old friend? Or some more morsels, you could sacrifice? We would not even be after the meat this time, but the blood."

[shimmerbeasts]

Temporary Alliance||closed

The thorn piece of tunic flapped in the hot, dry air, crammed between their fangs. The Noxian senator, who had worn the shiny, white silk, was stewing away in Naafiri's guts. The Darkin dune hound pack had devoured him after he had, under torture, revealed that the local city council had sent some lone mercenary to dig up Shuriman treasure not too far away from here.

Disgraceful! The mere preposterous assumption of these invaders that they could take items, which belonged rightfully to a long-gone Empire was disgusting. Normally, Naafiri could not care less, however, they had overheard what kind of treasure the Noxians had been after. Someone had uncovered another one of her brethren - a Darkin weapon without a host, buried underneath a desolate temple in a forsaken, sandy grave.

Naafiri remembered what it was like to be stuck in this immobilising hell with nothing but the thoughts in your mind for company. All your dreams, all your regrets, all your rage. No wonder so many of their brothers and sisters had gone mad from their isolation. Naafiri remembered the resentment they felt upon awakening in a pack of dune hounds. They had seemed so beneath the god warrior. Now, they considered the yapping and growling animals, who had made her into more, their salvation.

The sun had reached its peak in Shurima's pale blue sky when Naafiri finally spotted the temple. It was buried half in the sands, surrounded by hills of dunes. A colossal square of an arch with a gateway, yawning into the abyss, was the only thing, which seemed to peek out of the yellow mountains. From up where they stood, Naafiri could make out very little, though they thought they could spot hieroglyphs carved into the pale stone.

The Darkin could not tell whether or not the mercenary had headed already into the temple. Body shivering with excitement at the hunt possibly soon starting, Naafiri finally bolted down the sandy hills, several of their pack mates rushing ahead. It was a big mistake as suddenly out of the sand snapped various snares in a crescent shape with hard, iron teeth. They clamped down upon the pack mates' sensitive bellies and crushed their rib cages. Naafiri flinched and put their ears against their head, gasping for breath as they felt themselves die multiple times.

Traps! Somebody clearly did not want visitors!

Digging their paws into the hot sand, the main body growled in frustration. Something shimmering and flashing into the corner of their eye made them turn their head. Naafiri caught the smell before she saw the mercenary. It smells of the desert winds. It is Shuriman. The mercenary was a woman, skin brown and tanned from the unrelenting sun. She had long, sleek black hair, and was dressed in cyan and brown with some rough-looking leather pads on her thighs and shoulders. On her forehead flashed a diadem with a turquoise stone.

However, what worried Naafiri, was the weapon this woman carried. Even though it had been strapped to her back, the Darkin would recognise those curved blades and cross-shape anywhere. This strange golden disc was the chalikar, which had banished so many of her fellow brothers and sisters into their weapons. If that mercenary knew how to use that weapon, Naafiri was in danger of losing their so sought out freedom all over again.

The Darkin's jaws rattled as they growled at the thought. They were not going to roll over and beg. Naafiri pressed themselves down onto the ground and began to creep towards the mercenary, planning to flank her and attack. If they killed her before she entered the crypt, then they would not get the chance to use the chalikar against them. Alternatively, maybe whoever was buried down there, would appreciate the vessel, Naafiri had just found for them!

@nameaprice

[shimmerbeasts]

Xerath to Naafiri: "I receive an army of loyal beasts, you receive the right to exist in my empire."

I receive..., you receive...||Accepting.

The pendant jingled against the main body's ear as it twitched back and forth at Xerath's word. Even though they had entered into a shaky alliance, the Darkin was still a formidable creature in their own right. Towering over their pack mates, the lithe, muscular hound stared at Xerath, yellow eyes glowing darkly before their ears swivelled backwards even more.

This ultimatum was quite outrageous. Had Naafiri been as temperamental as they had been in their youth, they would have erupted in Xerath's face. However, that was a reaction, the Ascended no doubt expected and was maybe hoping for. Just so he could lord their miserable existence over them. Xerath would never grow tired of berating Naafiri. Not even just for their choice of host body, but the mere fact that they had fallen in the first place.

"That is quite a tall order, you have", Naafiri finally chose to speak, "Do you realise what giving us the right to exist in your empire would mean? Our pack would hunt cattle and men, erase entire villages to sathe our hunger. You are promising that not only shall we not go hungry, but that we shall thrive as well."

Naafiri's gaze held onto Xerath's with unwavering determination as they gauged just how serious the Ascended was with his demand. Their tail idly swayed from side to side and their lips pulled into a horrific grin as Naafiri elaborated: "We are no pet dogs. We are wild animals. However, if you can meet our needs, our might and power shall be yours."

[shimmerbeasts]

"Whatever you came here to say,  I don’t want to hear it."

"Careful. You might want to reconsider your stance, princess."

The voice came from everywhere, echoing as if spoken by far more than just one throat. The desert winds, scaldingly hot during the day, now freezing cold at night, shoved the strong stench of dune hound right up the nostrils of the pack mule. The animal reared its head up, whinnied in panic and tried to pull out the plug, keeping its leash secured to the uneven ground.

Yellow, pupilless eyes gleamed in the darkness all around Sivir, followed by excited panting and yapping. Slowly, piece by piece, a circle of gaunt, red-skinned dune hounds, bodies seemingly nothing but muscle and lean limbs, peeled themselves out of the dark. The sharp, jagged daggers, growing out of their skulls reflected the light of the campfire, which was swallowed up by eyes gleaming in malice.

"We took far too long to track you down." The voice returned. This time, even though it still spoke in plural, it now seemed to be a singular entity as opposed to coming from all the dune hounds at once. "So, the least you can do is hear us out. Unless you want us to eat your pack mule ... and then you."

The paw of the main body squashed a weed as Naafiri finally revealed themselves. Even though the pack had no alleged alpha, the main body was still undeniably the one, who called the shots. At seven feet tall, the crimson Darkin with their grey back and fairer belly and throat was an impressive sight to behold. Where the other dune hounds merely bore shared of daggers on their heads, Naafiri's main body wore a whole mane of sharp and elegantly curved daggers, blending in crimson and grey, growing out of its flesh like they belonged there.

The overwhelming sight of the pack was too much for the mule. Rearing up with a terrified whine, the mammal tore off its peg and bolted away towards the dunes. Several pack mates barked hoarsely and spun around, tails wagging, eagerly wanting to give chase. However, the accursed blood in their veins kept them rooted to the spot.

Naafiri ignored the base hunger, ravaging their belly. There were more important matters to settle than whether or not, they would fill their gut with mule meat. The main body stared at Sivir and stated: "We caught your stench near the Noxian settlements. It shouldn't surprise us that those spineless cowards finally hired some mercenary after we mauled their guards." Naafiri lowered their head so that they could properly lock eyes with Sivir.

"If you know what's good for you, princess, you back out of this little arrangement."

[shimmerbeasts]

"Shh, I know it feels overwhelming right now, but you're not alone. I'm right here beside you, and I'm not going anywhere." (From Varus to Naafiri. @abhorsenscollection)

Panic Attack||Accepting.

The blood rushed in their ears. It had always been hard to focus when the whispers of their collective conscience were as loud as they were right now. Normally, Naafiri's old self and Darkin nature rarely interfered with their new life as the collective mind of a pack of dune hounds.

However, seeing the stature peeking half out of the sand made it impossible for Naafiri to simply ignore it. The Shuriman heat had dried up the stone and cracked the paint, however, that slim muzzle and those pointy ears, that composition of black and gold was unmistakable.

Nasus...

Their muscles clenched. Images flashed before Naafiri's mind. Fractions of memories, which they had thought they had banished to the bottom of the ocean, which was their collective conscience now. Yet they drifted back to the surface as if the events had happened yesterday.

Nasus, rebuking her and telling her that as an Ascended her life belonged more to the Empire than it ever had belonged to her. Nasus, daring to condemn her for the choices, she had made, claiming he had nothing to do with her corruption. The light blinding her, followed by a claustrophobic feeling of being unable to move, even unable to draw breath...

The pack howled uncontrollably and the main body's jaws parted in a maddening roar, a yell, which shredded its vocal cords. A flood of red spit ran out of its muzzle. Naafiri twisted their body around and flung a dagger right at the stature. It burrowed itself into the eye of the jackal statue, cracking the ball and slicing off one of its ears.

Naafiri moaned in pain and hung the main body's head. They continued to bleed out of their muzzle, spit and gore mixing with each other. Their legs trembled and finally, Naafiri dropped to the ground. The Darkin wept and covered their eyes with their muzzle, shaking uncontrollably and unable to calm down.

[shimmerbeasts]

"I'm okay, really... Just need a moment to... to collect myself..." (to Naafiri)

Panic Attack||Accepting.

Naafiri's main body peered sideways. LeBlank was leaning against the coarse rock wall of the dune hounds' lair. She was holding her side and breathing rapidly. Her eyes darted around and her mouth was open a touch. Through Naafiri's nose travelled the clammy scent of sweat together with a sour odour. Over the many moons, the Darkin had learned that this odour meant either fear or anxiety.

"You don't seem alright."

The main body pushed itself on its four legs. Naafiri swiftly climbed down the small cliff, upon which the main body usually rested. The gorge, in which they had located the pack, had a shallow, concealed entrance, plenty of trees to offer shade and even a couple of dens, in which to find shelter.

Stopping before the matron of the Black Rose, the seven-foot-tall body lowered itself on the ground so that it and LeBlank were more eye to eye. Naafiri sniffed her sides and whispered: "You smell sour. The stench of anxiety or dread. Your heart's racing in your chest, and we can hear each laboured breath you take. If we were hunting you, those sensations might have filled us with delight, but not now. What caused such a reaction?"

Naafiri sat up, so they could wrap a front leg around LeBlank in a shallow imitation of a human embrace. The dune hound whispered: "We told you, you are as safe in our lair as any of our cubs are. What's on your mind? What weighs you down so much, Emilia?"

[shimmerbeasts]

Ancient Ritual

There had been a development towards the northern skirts of their territory. After the great Empire of Shurima had been buried in the sands, the great deserts had become home to swarms of Voidlings and the brutal Xer'Sai. Only a few Nomadic tribes like the mythical stone weavers dared to travel across the scathing sands.

However, that did not mean that the tales of the Shuriman Empire had not spread outside of its sandy borders. Whether that be the mountains of treasure and magical artefacts, the Emperors were buried under or the Darkin themselves, everybody wanted a glimpse at the marvels of a place long lost. Back when Naafiri had trotted back towards the crypt, they had been buried in, the place had long been raided of any of its valuables.

However, for some raiders that wasn't enough. The presence of a new nation in the northern skirts of their territory had made Naafiri realise that some barbarians, calling themselves Noxians, were trying to get a foothold in the scorching sands. They had already taken some of the coastal cities and got a couple of these scattered kingdoms, which now made up a big majority of Shurima to bend the knee to them.

Naafiri refused to stand for it. For them, it was just another example of how a civilisation tried to make itself bigger than it had any right to be. Shurima belonged to the wildlife and creatures like them and the Void. The Darkin recognised quickly that they would have to stop these encroachments. The fact that they were a pack of demonic-looking hounds now served them quite well.

Naafiri began to attack and plunder any settlements, which brandished the barbarian colours red and gold. They destroyed storage spaces and tore farm livestock in their rampage. But worst of all, Naafiri began to strategically ambush and kill the settlers of this Noxus. They went for the children and women first, and when eventually the villages sent out the men to hunt them, Naafiri lured them far away from their village and butchered them all.

Such a butchery had just occurred. The Darkin sat surrounded by a sea of dead bodies. They had been torn to pieces, chest cavities ripped open and limbs yanked off from mad shakes. Naafiri's already blood-red coat was sticky and warm on their paws and muzzles. Strings of gore dangled between razor-sharp fangs.

"Nooo, savour it!", the main body growled under its breath as Naafiri felt how the pack mates stuck their heads deep into the open wounds and ripped out meat the same way, you might pluck birds from a chicken. They chewed around severed rib cages, powerful back molars grinding against the gristle. Their stomachs growled and grumbled loudly, acids eager to break down the chunks of meat they were wolfing down.

The main body's ear twitched as a sudden rustle from a bush caught their attention. Naafiri turned their head around and stood up. Sniffing the air carefully, their yellow, pupilless eyes locked upon a hulking figure, sulking in the distance. Their head was hard to make out and they seemed to have some kind of crooked back.

Naafiri growled a threat and their blades rattled against the main body's neck. It shifted forward and stepped before one of the dead soldiers. Naafiri deliberately stepped onto the skull and used the strength the seven-foot-tall main body could offer to break open the bone. Brain matter leaked out and smeared across Naafiri's paw pads. The Darkin howled and growled ominously at the strange figure, even as their hemomancy was pulling like a vice upon the stranger, trying to force them to step forth and show themselves.

@restrainedhungr

[shimmerbeasts]

The main body had its eyes covered, however, even so, Naafiri could see Varus kneel before it from the eyes of the pack mates surrounding them. While the main body was weeping and shivering in its panic, the smaller red bodies stared at the stature and bared their teeth. Their bodies were rigid as if they were waiting for the slightest inkling of the blood in their veins to charge forward and slam their blades into the stature, destroying it further.

Though the destruction of the item only hid Naafiri's true desire underneath all that pain and panic. Varus longed for revenge on everybody and everything. Naafiri craved the annihilation of any civilisation in Shurima, but they too knew the howls of revenge, mixing itself with the growls, barks and yowls of their dune hound brethren.

Nasus had to pay for everything he had done.

While Varus had been more of an army soldier in terms of his God-Warriorhood, he had been one of the few God-Warriors, Naafiri had interacted with regularly. Her brother's swift bow and skills in archery had meant that those wretched Voidlings had all their focus on him. The distraction was exactly what Naafiri needed to flank them and leap onto them to drive her dagger into their eyes. Still, the times where Naafiri had anybody to aid her, had been few and far between. Nasus had demanded it to be so. For his stupid studies, he had needed a test subject, which experienced the same conditions as frequently as possible. Naafiri's mind be damned in the process.

Pushing their paw away from their snout, Naafiri's blurry vision found Varus kneeling before them. For a few seconds, the other images of the packmates caused their head to spin as they saw Varus from various angles. He was cupping the main body's jawline and had pressed his temple against theirs.

"We know we are not alone, Varus", Naafiri rasped, "We have the pack and we have you." Their tails wagged shyly. The Darkin sighed and pushed themselves into a sitting position. "We are sorry we freaked out at that stupid statue. It shouldn't have come as a surprise. Of course, Shurima has traces of its past buried in the sands. People, we knew."

@shimmerbeasts Cont from here

Varus was, eons ago, a noble warrior, a man of honor and loyalty, someone who put his duties above the lives of the ones he held dear, and paid a high price for that. He thought he lost all, only learning later that his dear sister was alive, and more than that, Naafiri was also chosen to become an Ascended God-Warrior.

They had gone through far too many battles together, leaving all of them victorious but not without bearing mental scars from each one of them. Yet, no memory of those nightmare times of his life could bring him more pain than to see the dune hounds first losing their minds and attacking an ancient and already crumbling statue, just to drop to the ground and weep right after.

If either of the once-hunters was speaking, the Darkin heard nothing as his entire mind was focused solely on his suffering sister. He waited only long enough to know the other Darkin would not leash another attack on the statue before kneeling in front of the main body. With his bow hanging across his chest, he had both hands free so he could gently cup the hound's face and lower his own, forehead resting on top of Naafiri's head.

"I know it feels overwhelming right now, but you're not alone. I'm right here beside you, and I'm not going anywhere." His words were whispered, fearing anything louder than that could possibly startle her and make it all worse.

If he could take his sister's place, bringing all the pain and suffering Naafiri was feeling at that moment, Varus would do it without a second thought. He grew bitter over time, caring for nothing but his revenge, with, of course, one huge exception: He still cared far too much for his dear Naafiri.

"You are not alone, sister. And I will not let you be alone again."

[shimmerbeasts]

The fact that she had been yanked out of the sky was enough to make her angry. The fact that she had been dragged down by a dog's maw from the ankle? Blindingly so. But the fact that she had been TOUCHED by something as unpure and defiling as a Darkin when she was about to land the killing blow to a voidling had awaken a rage inside her the likes of which the angel didn't think possible. "YOU DARE?!" She turned around in a split second, her wings causing the air around them to snap and crackle as it was filled with righteous anger and heavenly light, and she forgot completely the target that was now behind her, instead raising her sword. "YOU. DARE!?" In a swing a wave of holy fire shot out of her blade, moving towards Naafiri, with enough force and speed to carbonize five of the mutts from the pack.

That Voidling was theirs! It had been burrowing far too close to Naafiri's own burrow, which had prompted the Darkin to chase it away from the heart of their territory and further up into the desert. No matter how far the blackened beast ran, Naafiri had struck it with a curse, making it leave a trail of blood from a wound, which refused to close, and yet it also refused to bleed the creature dry.

And now, up in the sky hovered an angelic-looking Aspect, which dared to attempt to take the kill from them. Without any hesitation, the main body had leapt into the air and snatched the angel by the thigh before slamming them down onto the ground with so much vigour, that the gesture should have stunned any lesser being.

Yipping and howling, three of the dune hounds rushed over the Aspect, paws slamming into its stomach and claws scraping against his face. However, none of them targeted the creature below them. Instead, they charged the Voidling from all sides and slammed bladed skulls into its sides, making it bleed more putrid blood. The Voidling screeched in pain and fury and slashed at the animals.

Naafiri let go of the leg. The Aspect whirled around, the massive, snow-white wings caused the air to crackle with energy. As she roared at Naafiri, proclaiming how the Darkin dared to touch her, the blood curdled inside the main body. Disdainful whispers flitted through its ears. Only an Aspect and an Ascended would be so arrogant that they chose to believe the world revolved around them. Yet the only world, which needed them, was a world of societies. Societies, which were prone to failure. Naafiri had seen it.

The moment the blade sent a wave of blazing fire their way, Naafiri let out an ominous howl and a shield, dripping and wet, shimmering like blood, wove its way around the main body and reinforcing most of the packmates. It allowed them to withstand the severe heat of that magical blast, however, five of their dogs died in the inferno, burned down to a crisp. Naafiri lowered the main body's head and yellow, pupilless eyes locked onto the Aspect.

Alright. Our turn.

The Darkin blades around the dune hound's neck rattled ominiously. The blood thrummed in Naafiri's ear. A thrill, going far beyond an animal's desire to kill for its food. Hemomancy did not just corrupt someone's blood. It infused it with sentience and hunger, which were hard to grasp for a non-Darkin. Naafiri was not just all the dune hounds, she was the very blood coursing through each and every one of their veins.

Naafiri jumped up into the air and with a twist of the main body, hurled a Darkin dagger right at the Aspect. It lodged itself into the angel's shoulder blade, penetrating her armour and causing perfused bleeding. Immediately, five of the still surviving pack mates came rushing at the Aspect. They snapped around any exposed flesh, they could get their fangs on. Naafiri flung a second dagger, which upon penetrating where the first one had struck, caused a spray fountain of blood to rain down upon the field.

@chaotick-musings cont. from here.

[blackrosesmatron]

✿ - Naafiri

From this meme; Still accepting (because pre-established relationships help a lot)

FRIENDSHIP.     childhood friends  /  work buddies or coworkers  /  family friends  /  friends with benefits  /  smoking buddies  /  adventure buddies  /  fake friends  /  recently friends  /  party buddies  /  friendship of need  /  dying friendship  /  circumstantial friendship  /  partners in crime  /  old friendship  /  [ your muse ] is the good influence  /  [ your muse ] is the bad influence  /  [ my muse ] is the good influence  /  [ my muse ] is the bad influence  /  opposites attract  /  ride or die  /  frenemies  /  roommates or flatmates  /  penpals  /  exes to friends  /  enemies to friends  /  other

ROMANCE.     childhood sweethearts  /  [ your muse is mines ] childhood crush  /  [ my muse is yours ] childhood crush  /  exes  /  exes to lovers  /  forbidden lovers  /  highschool sweethearts  /  secret relationship  /  opposites attract  /  long distance  /  unrequited [ from your muses side ]  /  unrequited [ from my muses side ]  /  unrequited [ from both sides ]  /  skinny love  /  friends to lovers  /  enemies to lovers  /  spurious relationship  /  power couple  /  newly entered  /  soulmates [ metaphorical ]  /  soulmates  [ literal ]  /  awkward  /  turning toxic  /  toxic love  /  cheating [ on your muse ]  /  cheating [ with your muse ]  /  other 

FAMILIAL.     siblings [ half ]  /  siblings [ step ]  /  [ my muse ] is an older sibling figure to your younger sibling figure  /  [ my muse ] is a younger sibling figure to your older sibling figure muse  /  [ my muse ] is a parental figure to yours  /  [ my muse ] is a child figure to your muse  /  guardian figure  /  legal guardian  /  adoptive child  /  foster child  /  [ your muse ] is taken under mines wing  /  [ my muse ] is taken under yours wing  /  other

ANTAGONISTIC.     dangerous to each other  /  dangerous to others  /  unpredictable  /  rivals  /  petty  /  developing into sexual or romantic tension  /  based off family matters  /  based of off circumstance  /  based of professional matters  /  based off misunderstanding or lies  /  conflict of ideology  /  betrayal  /  hero - villain dynamic  /  enemies  /  fight club  /  friends turned enemies  /  lovers turned enemies  /  exes turned enemies  /  other 

[blackrosesmatron]

As Shurima grew in power after the return of its old Emperor, and with him many other powerful beings who had been long absent from Runeterra, so did LeBlanc's interest in the neighboring continent. Surprisingly, her main interest at the moment was neither Azir nor Xerath—both whom she still wished to become acquainted with at some point. No. There was somebody else who could become a great ally if she could manage to create a good first impression.

And what was the best way to start a friendship if not by offering a feast?

The Pale Sorceress selected some of the new recruits of the Cabal, eight people in total, young and old, from different parts of Noxus, to come with her on her little venture to Shurima. The criteria? All of them had been given two missions after being officially named members of the Black Rose, and all of them had failed both missions. One could think that LeBlanc should be more picky with who she allowed to join her so secretive club, but in all honesty, everybody was useful if they could see beyond the success or failure of a mission.

He taught her long ago that every soul counted, no matter how weak and incompetent they could be. Every soul counted.

Following the trail of warnings, her caravan arrived at the place natives told them to stay away from, for speaking beasts lurked around. Teeth, claws, and even tails sharp as daggers, they would rip apart even void creatures like Xer'Sai with little issue. By the description she heard, she imagined that those beasts could only be a Darkin—the Ascendeds forgotten behind after giving their life to fight off the Void borns. A Darkin living in Shurima was precisely who she needed.

"Here I am, Emilia LeBlanc, Matron of the Black Rose, to speak with the one ruling upon this desert." It was just fair to announce her presence and introduce herself. "I also brought offerings." At that point, the low-rank members looked at one another, still clueless about what she could possibly mean by offerings. She was bluffing, right? Another trick from the mysterious Pale Woman to make the Darkin show themselves.

"Please, come forth and feast." She bowed her head, a hand to her chest while the other held the staff beside her.

@shimmerbeasts