~*~ I slapped these together this evening while watching movies. I wanted to get a little piece of myself out there... just because I've been afraid to for so long. All of the character, save for Ling, are mine. Yes, I made the little icon, yes I know it sucks, but it's all I've got... unless you want to make me a new one! XD So... the characters and the story excerpts are mine... I have no idea who made the base for my icon, and Ling belongs to a friend of mine. Enjoy.

... P.S. Please be gentle with your comments. I really don't like putting myself out there like this, but I knew I was going to have to take a stab at it sooner or later... ~*~


Sample Tales by Khemet (formerly Tahmi Heartstar)

There simply is nothing more beautiful to an Egyptian jackal than a sunset over the pyramids. Tonight was a night beginning like any other. The sun sank slowly behind the great monuments, placed in honor of the world's greatest bygone rulers. The jackal, a female, sat on a sand berm and studied the shifting hues of the evening sky. She tilted her head and swept the sand with her whip-like tail. Her solid black pelt reflected the beautiful fire tones overhead. Soft barking sounds off in the distance indicated that the other jackals and assorted crepuscular animals were emerging from their dens to explore the darkening world. The jackal stood and stretched as the first signs of true darkness crept into view. Her long, lanky legs carried her swiftly to the entrance of a temple, still well-maintained after all of these years. She stopped to drink at a bowl set by the door just for a moment. The entrance still held the last wisps of smoke from the day's burned incense. The jackal made her way deeper into the shadows of the empty temple. A soft breeze picked up and carried the scents of magic and power throughout the single stone room. The jackal trotted to the altar, and stopped. A soft whisper and a sigh, and within moments the jackal was no longer sitting on the floor. She was standing on two legs and examining the items left on the surface of the offering table. Where there had been front paws, there was now fingers. Those fingers were slowly caressing a pile of trinkets left by those that secretly still held great reverence for the ancient Gods.

She left the temple, walking slowly into the cool desert night. She was now draped in the robe of the priests, disguising herself as any of the other attendants of the nearly forgotten hall. The wind shifted again and the smell of bread baking somewhere caught her attention. It was clear that it was time to eat.

~*~*~*~


Morganya was the angriest she could ever remember being. And that was really saying something, since she was angry a lot. She stared at Myriea incredulously, her feline jaw agape. “You... you can't be serious!” She gaped. Myriea simply shrugged her shoulders, causing her heavy wings to shift loudly.

“At least I'm being honest with you, Kitten. You need to understand that I'm doing this for both of us.” Her face was full of concern and worry for her lover. She took a step forward, but for every inch that she moved up, the panther moved back. Morganya fiercely shook her head in the negative.
“
I love it here, Myr. I've loved it here since we first moved here, and I thought you knew that.” Her anger was beginning to cool under a wave of sadness. She dropped her neon green eyes to the floor. The bat stepped forward again, and this time the other let her.

“I know you love it here baby, I do, but I needed to take this job. I'll be making triple the highest amount I have ever made in my life, and I will be able to afford all of the wonderful things that I have always wanted to give you.” She wrapped her wings slowly around the other and pulled her close.

“But I don't want you to spoil me. We have so many friends here.”

“Yeah, but you hate the weather. And you make friends within seconds no matter where we go. Even the grocery store!” Her dark brown pelt blended with the spotted black of her partner's in an interesting milk chocolate and dark chocolate swirl. She nuzzled her snout into the thick muscle of panther shoulder. Morganya in turn nuzzled back, letting out a breath slowly. Myriea was right – she had always been a social creature and very rarely had difficulty making friends on the first meeting. She began to nod slowly and lifted her head.

“I suppose you're right. I've always wanted to see more of the world, but... I've been too nervous about different cultures to think about traveling THAT far... much less moving there.” She moved her head to rest her chin on the shorter girl's shoulder. She closed her eyes and savored the feeling of being wrapped in wings that loved her.

“You'll love it there. It's cool, not as humid, and lots to do. And all of those new people to flirt with and get to buy you drinks!” She pulled back to look into the other's eyes and grinned happily. Morganya couldn't help but return the smile, her eyes twinkling faintly in the light of their bedroom. Myriea closed her eyes and tilted her head forward, breathing slowly through her nose. Morganya followed suit, bringing her muzzle to her lover's with a gentle sigh. Their mouths met softly at first, then harder and the love they shared enraptured them both. Morganya brought her arms up to wrap around Myriea's shoulder, pulling her closer. The kiss deepened, and they both let out soft moans of delight. Myriea broke the kiss slowly and turned to the side, bringing her mouth to Morganya's neck. Morganya let out a gasp and sucked a breath through her teeth, feeling the soft graze of fangs. A hungry groan rumbled in her throat, giving way to a loud, rumbling purr that made her entire chest vibrate. Myriea slowly drew back, leaning her head back to align her lips with the panther's ear.

“I love you,” she whispered throatily, her voice laden heavily with desire and emotion.

“I love you too... so much,” Morganya replied, the words vibrating with just barely leashed lust.

~*~*~*~

“Ow! Damnit!” A spotted paw hit the grass heavily, followed quickly a a large splotch of blood. A strong jaw tilted up, and a angry growl rattled a muscled chest. The hyena leaned up and growled, low and angry. The lion grinned, holding his spear easily. “You'll pay for that,” the female hissed. The lion simply smiled and flexed a claw in beckoning. The hyena snapped up, bringing herself forcefully into a standing fighting stance. The lion flexed his shoulder, bouncing a little on his toes. That god-awful arrogant smile never left his face. With a sound that was halfway between a bark and a roar, the hyena leaned forward and charged. Wind scented with blood, sweat and heated wood swept past her face. She opened her eyes wider, focused completely on her target. He shifted before her, taking a defensive position. She flexed her arm downward, pulling a long knife from it's sheath on her hip. Another twitch and it was point out, reinforced against her paw for a powerful jab. He side stepped, and her initial thrust missed. She reeled back, shifting her weight, bringing the knife up to slash. He met her movement with an upward thrust with the shaft of his spear. She grunted and jumped back, spinning in place and ducking low to hit his thigh. He parried that just as easily, having barely moved since the encounter began.

“Enough, Ling!” She crouched again. “I get it, you're a better fighter than I. Just let me pass!” Her eyes narrowed ferociously in the heat.

“Even though I have beaten you in combat, Lylodren, if I let you by, I might as well surrender completely. And you KNOW I can't do that.” The arrogant smile, bane of Lylodren's existence, stayed firmly in place.

“Damn you, Ling. You will PAY for that attitude.” She slowly brought herself fully upright again. She glanced at her right forearm for only a moment, noticing that blood still flowed freely from the nick she had taken from the lion's blade. The knife in her hand felt heavier for just a moment as she weighed her options. She absently slid her thumb up and down the tight leather wrapping on the handle. She remember intensely the moment when she had completed this blade with her own hands. Her father had forged the blade, her brother the hilt, and she did the rest. A blade of pride made by the strongest warriors she knew. The bravest fighters she had ever had the privilege of meeting. Her entire bloodline was steeped in pride and honor. And this clown was trying to jeopardize all of that by coming between her and the only source of clear water left in this part of the savanna. She looked him up and down with a narrowed, critical eye. Taut muscles and tawny fur rippled in the afternoon sun. She glanced once again to her arm and she began to growl. Not a warning growl before, but a growl thick with hatred.

A blink and her legs were kicked out behind her, putting her in a sprinter's pose. She pushed off from the ground with a roar and held the blade back against her wrist. Ling was not expecting her to try again and faltered. It was all the opening she needed to knick his chest. She landed on the other side of him and immediately jumped forward again, smelling the heat of his blood on the wind. Every fur on her body stood at full attention and her pulse sang in her ears. Another feint and a blow with a close fist to his great, shaggy head. She let out another bark and ducked his thrust, aiming a blow at his midsection. It was his turn to jump back and take a defensive stance, but only for a moment. He brought the spear perpendicular to his torso and charged, throwing all of his energy into the charge. She jumped clear and he stopped short, tilting up to jab her in the face. She ducked and whirled. She closed her eyes as she completed the move, feeling the blade connect.

The spear dropped slowly, and Ling let out a grunt of pain. He bent to clutch at the long slash in his abdomen. Lylodren stepped back and wiped the blood from her blade as she had been taught so many times by the men in her family. One last drop hung from her claw perilously for only a moment. She moved slowly, careful not to let it fall, bring it up to the wound on her arm. With patient reverence she mixed the blood of her fallen opponent with her own. She looked up and watched him carefully as he slumped to the ground. She walked to him in measured steps. He looked up at her with fear and anger in his eyes.

“You doubted me, and you were bested Ling. Never forget what has happened here today.” And with that, she stepped past him to the spring, never looking back.

~*~ That's it for now. Thanks for reading. ~*~