It was a fine day atop a hill. The sun rays slowly rise over the shore, unveiling the city further down besides the seas. The waves, usually more energitic are letargic, showing signs of getting just agitated like most of the citizens.
Higher up in the hill, where a gentle but vigorous torrent of streaming water continously falls down, a table is set, one particular figure sitting on one of the chair, clad in steel colorization. Her head is lowered on her black fur-coated hands, ears slumed down like a case of morning wakeups.
Not too far from here, stands yet another figure, this one bearing gray and orange shaded jeans and jacket, both in the short version, a typical preferation of monsters. Although, to her defense, said cloth encased her bits rather in large sums. And, since her fur and skin were of display in the same variant of color pool, it was somewhat complicated for onlookers to distinguish where her jacket ended and where her skin began.
Anyway, this figure, standing on the edge of a secluded house built of steel and brimstone, a constrat to the flowing falls, nocking off another one before her, one who's hands are embedded in black steel. A rather hefty pickaxe is present on his back, yet another opposite to his clothes, a robe present with two different rosaries as necklaces. The robe itself is parched on the back with the classic symbol of a man of faith: a cross entwined with light like a serpent.
The two figures share a reasonably long accolade, his hands on her waist, hers on his nape. Matching rings shine in display at the dawn of the day on each's special finger. Before them, the male figure had already left, leaving the fur woman waving back with a clenched hand. Her glare is stiffed with resolve "If anyone or anything even tries to mess with ya, just call me and I'll come beat it to oblivion, you hear me?!"
Her expression softens up, seemingly receiving a positive response from the departing man. Her back turn from his path, she goes to rejoin the sitting one at the table. Taking a seat herself before a tray of snacks, she leans backward in a stretch, prompting the other one to stand more straight and take a more relaxed demeanor.
"So, I hear you have something to annouce, Jasmine", speaks the gray-pelted woman, taking an interest lean on the table. While unknowing of her sister's annoucement, her fur couldn't help but be tense, a symbol of good news. Her hands cross under her hefty chest, putting more emphasis on them, even isolated by her jacket and undershirt.
"I don't know why you're this excited about my visit, Sam, I'm the one with the big news here", replies Jasmine, joining her clawed fingers in a triangle.
"What?! Can't a sister be in a pandemic joy for her other? Especially since it's been too long we've seen each other"
"Fair enough, big sister. Anyway..."
Jasmine, pigmented more like the classic hound from hell, black skin, black fur, crimson iris and a matching set of clothes, clears her throat as one would do. Her stomach slightly buldges exponentially, a smirk inscribing itself on her coal-textured lips.
She leans on the table toward her sister "Tell me, Sam. Do you smell that?"
Samantha's ears perk up in curiosity "Smell what?" Her eyes shift to the left to the right as she parades her nose around, trying to detect an odor. It sprinkles a bit, then suddenly stops. Loud nastral inhalations occur, courtesy of Sam, resulting her eyes widening up as much as they could, about at the same time as Jasmine's smirk stretched further "You noticed?"
"W-when?! How?! Oh, you have to give me details about this, Jas!" Sam acoasts her chair at the edge of the table, even leaning on its frontal legs. Jasmine couldn't help but laugh a bit at how easy it was to garner her sister's attention.
"Well of course, big sis. It would be cruel of me just to let you hinge on such meager details". She clamps her fingers together, a loud crack emitted between their fold, after then, separated and wobbled around for more comfort.
"So, I had just finished some work. I had my pay and was well on my way back home. To be honest, I had also thought a visit would be swell, since we almost never see each other. And I've heard you finally got married. My first question was: how did you even pull that one up?"
Sam raises an eyebrow "What?"
"What do you mean 'how did I pull that one up'?"
"Well..." Jasmine pushes herself and her chair a bit away from the table, only for her feet to rest over its edge "...you always spoke about how you wanted a man who could fight with you"
"Yea, not exactly a rare find". Samantha crosses her hands.
"One that wold display other qualities as well. The kind of men we attract are always meat heads, always bantering about their prowless or total perverts. I'd be hard-pressed to see that you managed to find someone able to brawl with you without spitting his masculinity all day.
"Miracles do happen, baby sister", Sam replies, uncrossing her arms to raise one aside her face "Besides, after all we've been through, no way in hell I'd let a gem like that go".
Jasmine raises her brow this time "We'll see, but anyway! My train of thought became but a blur the moment i felt something grabbing the left cheek of my ass by one of the innumerable perverts that simply won't stop taking us for 'free intercourse dispensers'. So, with the grin only our kind could muster, I turn to this idiot and the first thing I spot is his dumbass grin splattered all across his face".
"Huh-uh, keep going! This is getting juicy!" Sam reaps a cookie from the tray and carries it to her ashen lips, all the while Jasmine was sipping some of her drink. A slam echoes from her mug as she wipes the excess drink with her arm.
"With a voice as grave as possible, mostly because I didn't have the petience to deal with the 87th jackass today, I ask; 'What the hell are you doing'?" This idiot knew he was in for a world of pain, yet he just kept smilling like a goofball. At this point, I wasn't sure of what ass-wopping I was going to deliver to this man. So get this: with his moronic smile reaching the corner of his stick-bread face, he says 'I needed some hot-dog buns'!"
Samantha's hand falls to the table flat "No way!" Comes her impromptu laughter that she fails to stop "Hahahaha! My god! No way!" Jasmine sighs all while shruging her sister's indecent session "He did, unfortunately".
Seconds pass before Samntha manages to cease tickling her funny bone, her face plastered on the table with out grievious her laugh was "Ohh, of all the guys stupid enough to ever try anything, this guy takes the cake. And that includes the morons who spilled my husband's cake on the floor"
"Yea, I remember you telling that. That was frankly funny. But, back to the case. This kind of idiotic response prompted an immediate reactionf rom my part. So I did what one would have expected of me. With these..." Jasmine wiggles two of her fingers, one of them being her thumb "I grasped his 'package', and made sure he knew what I had my hold on. And just like a stained window, his jackass smile faded, instead replaced by a face of shriek. He couldn't run. He couldn't hide. And he sure as hell couldn't hope to release my grasp on his second head, likely the head that came up with this idiotic idea in the first place".
She stops, taking yet another sip as Samantha grabs another cookier to munch on " With a pleading voice that reminded me of human infant, he asks 'What are you doing?' With my face widening up in a malicious grin, as to reflect his own, I simply say 'Well, honey, these hot-dog buns needed a hot-dog'. Hmm, you should have seen the look on his face once I've told him that. He knew what was coming".
Samantha had her hands joined under her chin as her straightened back was al but immobile, save for her tail who thoroughly enjoyed her story "So you did...?"
"Yes, I did. But not here. No, I wanted him and I to be by ourselves. So, without releasing my grasp, I began walking back home, welcomed to his squeeling throughout the entire trip, each more high-pitched than the previous. I could tell he was not expecting of such outcome. But, after being groped by morons left and right, well, I had some pent-up aggression to release..."
"... and of course, he volunteered", finishes Samantha.
"Quite so. And my, how he protested. Too bad I couldn't hear any of it amidst his yells and moans. Poor guy couldn't walk by the morning. About as squeezed as a tube of paste. I've made sure of that".
"And then what?" Samantha had her eyes wide open, mouth hidden by her hands posted in front of her. To say she was invested in this story was an understatement.
"Since I've live way too long without this nourishing stuff they call spirit energy, I decided to make him mine. Again, he protested, but it was a much more quiet set of complains. He knew what would happen if he spoke out of line".
"Amazing! Simply amazing!" Samantha speaks, bolting out of her chair. Like a line backer, she tackles her little sister out of her chair an rises her up in a hug "Welcome to a married woman's life, my little baby sister!"
"Yea, yea, happy to be here, though I'd like some pointers" Jasmine asks, raising a finger even amidst her sister's bear hug.
Samantha sets her down, hands crossed again "What kind of pointers, exactly? Considering only up to now you asked this, I'm assuming this has to do with this moron you have under your foot, right?"
"Yep. You told me the guy you married is a polar opposite to this dingus I now have as a husband and I want to put him in a class".
"A class? What kind?"
"I'm not sure yet. This guy you've sent off, what did you do with him so shape him like that? The more I'm around, the more I'm starting to believe you. No way am I standing with a goofball for the rest of my life".
"Ohhhh..." Samantha raises one of her hands under her chin in a pondering fashion. Her fingers snap "Right! Jas, you're a brawler, right?"
"Well, once I found out my very own priest-man could fight, I've had him loosen up but partaking in sparing session with me"
"So you beat him up every day?"
"No, no, no! Wouldn't mean anything if it was just me wailing on the guy. A sparing session".
"Well, yea! It's two individuals squaring off in a friendly fashion in a spirit of competition and a way of disciplining oneself and honing skills. My husband was quite the frightened man, putting his fists against me, what with his priest mouthing about self-defence and what not. Buuuut, after repeatitions, he's became my best sparing partner. We square off every morning for about one hour until the falls cools us down and trust me spitting knuckles sandwiches with someone able to retaliate is some of the best feelings you'le ever have. I had my own to loosen him up, perhaps you could start training this weasel of yours to discipline him".
"Wow, really? That sounds incredible, but wouldn't that break him?" Jasmine was quite doubtful of her method.
"Yes, if again, you just wail on him without reason. Not the scenario end I'd want. But, this guy you've got under you seems like he needs some 'fat trimming' if you know what I mean".
"Oh yea..." Jasmine clenches one of her hand "Definitely..."
"I like your enthousiast! But remember: moderation..."