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Post by obnoxiousturkey on Mar 16, 2010 3:00:59 GMT -5
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The world spun in a whirlwind of frenzied images, the borderline of hallucination due to the weakness malnutrition had brought on. The mind was lost in the chaotic wiggling, and the intensity of the joy and relief at discovering a fellow canine. The young dog danced in place, unable to control her excitment. Front paws bounced from left to right, side to side infront of her, upper body still lowered and rump rising happily, tail whipping about in a frenzy.
Lost. Forest... hungry??? Cara's mind couldn't cope with entire sentences at the moment, and these words seemed to drag her back to some rational level of calmness. If only for the moment. Fly. She was standing somewhat still now, and spoke between laboured, panting breaths. "Fly? Fly.. Fly! Fly.." She seemed to lose track of her thoughts, unknowingly repeating the womans name to cement it into her memory. An enormous smile was plastered upon her face, eyes bright and wide. "Fly.. Fly.. OH. oh.. Cara. My names Cara." She finally answered, somehow snapping out of the cycle of repitition. She was quickly realising she should really calm down. There was something different about Fly, about how calm and collected she was. She was different from any canine Cara had ever before met.
"Where have they taken Denna, Mother?" Cara sat with her littermates in the barn they all had slept in since she'd be born. The other pups wiggled and wrestled, while her brother Otto had sat beside her also curious. "Well.. Do you remember that human man that came to see you all a few days ago? He will be her very own human. Like how Striker now lives in the next den over, with those humans. They have chosen her." Cara remembered her mothers sweet face, and the sadness that lingered in her old eyes. They weren't her first litter to be raised and then taken away. She had expected it, but still, Cara could tell that her heart was aching. Still her mother smiled, she was always smiling. "Will we be able to visit Denna, like how we visit Striker, Mother?" She had asked. Her mother had only sighed, and looked away. She had been tackled then by Pepper, and gave her best play growl and joined the wrestling. Her mother had soon grabbed her by the scruff, for her nightly washing. She had giggled, wiggled, and thought about how glad she was to not have been chosen.
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[/i] The memory came to an end, as it was all leading up to that day she had been loaded into the truck. She halted the flashback on purpose, her calmness faltering and the energy bubbling up once again to propell her body forward. Fly had smiled and relaxed, and the small change in posture had been enough to flick the excitment switch in Caras head back on. She acted on impulse, greeting her like any adult farm dog she had ever met. Body low and submissive, she wiggled and crawled forward at a speedy pace, tail tucked and tonuge lashing up to lick at the females chin. She was only there for half a second before she had backed up, paws dancing in place once more. After a few moments Cara seemed to process her sentence, tail thumping frantically. [/color] "Th-th-that would be wonderful F-f-f-fly!" She stuttered, panting now and trying to relax. Having to think seemed to have a sort of calming effect on her. Family. She missed her family. She could talk for hours about her family. "M-my Mother is the best dog on the farm you know. She-she's smart and pretty and very kind. And I have many brothers and sisters too! P-Pepper, Otto, Daphne, Maisy, Tie, Denna, and Striker. But Denna got ta-take-taken away when we were young. And Striker, h-he is my strongest and smartest and fastest brother ever. He lives with the humans in the den beside ours. With my f-f-father T-t-tanner. Pepper was my bestest friend you know. Tie got sent away to new humans a little while ago.. And M-maisy is very fun to wrestle with, but Otto always stopped us if he caught us... A-a-and.." She suddenly paused, realisation hitting her now for the first time. She had been taken away from them.. She had been on her way to a new home, and might have never seen them again. And.. now she was lost, and would probably never see them again. Cara suddenly looked very sad. Ears and tail drooped, a shaky breath escaping her kissers. They way she thought and spoke was quite immature for her age, more than likely due to the world she was raised in, where some dogs stayed puppies for years.
"I was in their big moving den, and something bad happened and there was a deer. And I was so afraid, and then I was free...Th-the human was hurt, but... I just ran, I don't know why. It was all s-s-so confusing." She shivered, fighting the memory and unable to explain further at the moment. Her stomach growled, and she blinked, looking sad and confused. "The birds don't fall from the sky when I stop and stare at them now.. Or even when I shout at them.. It always w-worked b-before..."
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Post by Starrlight on Mar 18, 2010 21:44:49 GMT -5
"You won't last a week, hot shot. You'll be crawling back here by the time three days are out, but don't expect a welcome, Tynan. Your time runnin with us is done, an' if you ever show your mug aroun' here again, we'll jump ya before ya even step a paw on the pavement."
Tynan had had little patience for Valdrik's threats. The only reason he was in this position was the coward's five lackeys standing behind him. If they weren't there, the tune sung would have been a tad different, that was for sure. "If I ever come back, you may wanna get more help, Valdrik... cuz when I do, you won't even see me comin'. An' I bet when that time comes, one of those five will have seen ya for who ya really are too, an then the odds will be a little more fair. Ain't that how ya like it, Valdrik? Fair?" He had grinned, his usual, cocky expression, but there was steel in his eyes that made his former leader waver for a second. A nasty snarl came over him an instant later.
"Start runnin, whelp. You got five seconds."
"Then I'll give myself ten, old timer. You and your lapdogs couldn't catch me if you had wheels n a engine." The words were empty, though... the only purpose they filled was to make him feel better, the satisfaction of one parting shot against his former boss. He was beat. If it had been only Valdrik, and even two others, he could have taken them. But not one on six... the odds counted him dead in a matter of minutes. Tynan was no coward, but he was no idiot either. Valdrik knew this too, though the dog could see him straining against the instinct to attack. At least he was hitting home.
The memory made Tynan smile. Of course he had run, setting out from the city that had been his turf since his puphood in a tiny back alley. He knew every corner, every turn, and every building like his own pelt, and in truth, was a little tired of it. No challenges, nothing to do. He had been Valdrik's plaything for far too long. An amused chuckle broke through his lips, making his chocolate eyes dance with mischief. How long would Valdrik have lasted out here? Because Tynan had proven him wrong in every possible way. The young bru was no forest dog, and food was harder to come by, but luck so far had been with him, and his hunting was improving. After all, his instincts weren't deadened by years as a housepet, thank heavens. He snorted.
Unlike Valdrik. I bet my old buddies don't know that bout their fearless leader. He grinned wolfishly. He didn't really want Valdric's place, leading the pack, protecting the turf. No, he just wanted the pleasure of rubbing the old cur's face in the dirt. What was the harm in that? There was no need for those other five to get so defensive. He bet at least half of them would have enjoyed the sight. Too bad they were too whipped to join in on the fun.
Well, at any rate, he was free of them all. Now he just needed to find a place to start over. He had been traveling two weeks, and while thin, he was not starving. He knew how to catch squirrels as well as rabbits... larger game, however, was a mystery that he was still working on. He was positive he'd have it figured out in no time, simply because that was the way he was. He didn't let anything beat him. Smiling, he anticipated the full stag that would very soon be between his jaws, subject to his slashing teeth and powerful attack....
Suddenly he stopped, frozen, mid thought. Was that...? Yes; a scent marker. And about time, too! Now all he had to worry about was another idiot like Valdrik leading this pack. The scent was not dog, that was for sure... wolf? It was the only possibility left. Great. Egotistical savages was all he needed now. Rolling his eyes, Tynan crossed the border. It was better than nothing. Perhaps this pack had some sort of civilization about them. Some of the dogs that Tynan had run with these past few years had had wolven blood in their veins, however... and it was hardly a promising experience that he had had with them. A little wierd. Loyal, but not completely there, and crazy as hell. Nothin got in their way. Tynan kind of admired them in that... even if they did go into a fight without a second thought or consideration to strategy. Tynan grinned. Then again, others thought that strategy was everything. He could prove that wrong as well.
A ways in, however, something hit him that made him completely forget all thought of wolves... the general sort, at least. Ears pricked, he caught the sweet tones of a fem, seemingly in conversation with another. Well, what have we here? Seems my presence is needed elsewhere. The dog immediately switched directions, pawsteps carrying him towards the smaller gathering.
He got there just in time to hear the smaller fea, a dog like he, profess her ignorance about the birds. He snorted, walking out into the clearing. "Babe, your wastin your time with this one... housepet through and through." He winked at the dog. "Not always a bad thing, though... some males like a sweet fem. I'm more for the fire myself." Uninvited, he sat down, of course out of reach. He never knew how one would react, and he had had his pelt torn more than a few times by the fems back home. Though not always unpleasantly, he added to himself nostalgically. It had been too long.
Handsome head cocked, form completely and totally relaxed, he pointed his attention back at Fly. "The name's Tynan. Does your pretty face come with a name?" Eyes were completely blank, innocent and endearing. He figured she would see right through it... after all, that was all he wanted. A reaction.
OOC: Enjoy, Rei XD oh lord, what have I created? He kinda sounds like half the guys in my school....... >>
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Post by Asphyxia on Mar 19, 2010 0:54:41 GMT -5
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Fly’s pads shifted, her weight shifting from one side to the next as she tipped her cynical gaze toward the youngster. Surely the excited pup was under a year, but close to, from the looks of her. She’d been a pet. There was no doubt in Fly’s mind now. She had known other dogs that had come from human homes, human farms, human lands. From zoo’s and ‘sanctuaries’. Certainly not what she considered a sanctuary. “Cara..” She repeated lightly. Fly was startled as the pup shuffled toward her so quickly, wiggly, and attempted to lick at her chin. Fly’s mug rose slightly, her right paw lifting as she eased her body back from the excited child. Fly knew this was the way many dogs greeted others. Submissive, excited, only aiming to please. But she also knew that this pup had a lot to learn if she intended to stay in the wild and not be ordered around by humans. But she could not fill this child’s head with the horrors of the two-leggeds. Not when the child’s family still lived with them… Not when it could cause horrible nightmares that could keep her ever worrying and never sleeping.
Her acoustics tipped toward the dog, listening as she explained her family, her frown deepening slightly as she relaxed her frame again. This reminded her of Dalek. So much. Only, Dalek had been much younger and abandoned. “And you got sent away too, didn’t you child?” Her words were spoken softly, knowing it probably hurt to think of such things. “What those humans did is called breeding. They will breed dogs to get litters of puppies and sell the puppies for a profit, or… what they would call to better the breed. Those puppies go to new homes, with new humans and new rules. I’m sure your family is looked after.” Fly had learned a plenty of things about humans from a dog that had been in her homelands. He had come from the lands of the humans, in similar situation to Cara, only, that he had escaped when he’d been left outside. “Do not fret, Cara. If you wish to return, I’ll find… a way to show you back home… But if you wish to stay here, without the humans telling you what to do and giving you gross food to eat, I can show you our ways too..” Plume swished behind her thick frame, acoustics tipping back, then forward once more. She had to let the child choose. It would be cruel to keep her in a world she didn’t know or want to live in.
“No, Pet. The birds do not and will not fall from the sky anymore. Here, the birds fly free. The wolves and dogs run free, without worry of being put on a leash.” A smile crossed her face. She would attempt to brighten the child a bit now. If only for a moment. “Come, Cara. Watch this.” Her pads carried her in a gentle lope toward the stream and she paused briefly. Her spheres scanned the water, waiting, watching for what she hoped to see. And there it was. In an instant, she had pounced into the stream, dropping her great head beneath the water to snap up a salmon. As she captured it between her jaws, she lifted her skull from the water, liquid soaking and dripping from her head, belly wet from the shallow waters. Giving her head a toss, her jaws opened to release the fish and let it drop upon the ground by Cara. “Food. It’s a fish. I assume they fed you… Dog food, yes? This is the real stuff, child. Give it a taste!” She stood in the water, watching, waiting for the child to make a move. Fish was one of the easiest of prey to tear apart and would be an easy transition for the pup.
Cara looked starved for food and nutrition and this was the quickest, most nutritional meal she had at hand. “If you wish to stay, Cara, I can show you our ways. We are very different from where you come from. But know what? We have another dog puppy here too. She’s younger and smaller though. We have others like me. They’re kind. They would help you learn our ways. But only if you wished it.” Tipping her crown slightly, she observed the pup for a brief moment. It was then that her acoustics caught the rustling as another dog appeared. He was handsome, certainly. And her nostrils flared as she caught his scent. Acoustics flicked backward on her skull, slightly flattening, before pressing forward once more. Lips curled, though only a twitch of her lips would have been noticeable at all. Plume rose, hackles lifting slightly. “I highly doubt it matters to such a young girl whether or not a male is even remotely interested in her.” Brow furrowed as she observed him, watching him sit with a light growl rumbling in her chest.
She was fine with pups. Pups bothered her naught, as much as she avoided many. This one, much like Dalek, had sort of happened across her, with her as the only help around at the moment. This male, however, was older than Cara and perfectly capable of knowing when his presence was unwanted. Especially by her. Haunches rose as she stood, muscles flexing in her shoulders and thighs. “Perhaps, Tynan, you will have much better luck in the presence of the King, rather than that of mine.” Lips finally pulled back to reveal her canines. She didn’t like his flirty behavior, at all. It reminded her a lot of Courajess. She was here politically and for a home. Not to make friends or find courters in handsome males with over-inflated egos. Tipping her crown slightly, she let her lips curve into a smirk. “But then, perhaps it was your lack of intelligence that truly lead you here first. I’m sure you had no problem scenting out the King. But perhaps it wasn’t enough to steer you in the right direction.”
Stepping toward him, she circled ‘round him in a wide circle. “Let me show you the way…” Giving a nod of her crown as she paused on his left side, she nodded in the direction of the beach. “You’ll find the man you’re looking for over there. Follow the stream down until you’re in the field, cut across the field, and you’ll find the beach.” She snapped her black spheres back to his, before she slowly padded her way back over to Cara and sat next to the pup. “I truly hope you don’t drown when you find the ocean.” As she switched her gaze back to Cara to see how her meal was coming along, she felt his gaze on her, muscles tensing. He wasn’t going to go down so easily and she knew it. Damning him in her mind, she snapped her orbs back to his, narrowing the pretty spheres as she waited for him to take his leave. Talons dug into the soft ground beneath her pads. “It was a pleasure meeting you.” Still, she hadn’t given him her name. And she wasn’t sure she was going to. She had struggled to be at least nice enough that Vergilius would not be disappointed in her behavior toward the newcomer, but rude enough that it might get him to leave her be.
wordcount;; One thousand, two hundred, twenty-three lyrics;; L-O-V-E - Nat King Cole
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Post by obnoxiousturkey on Mar 22, 2010 0:06:08 GMT -5
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The wiggling mess of a youngster gazed at Fly, amber orbs wide and bright. She seemed to take a lesson from the older fae, halting her frenzied panting for a deep, wavering breath. She relaxed back onto her haunches, clearly very desperately trying her best to calm herself. She was trying to mirror the calm, collected image of Fly. Muslces still twitched, and tassel still thumped upon the earth however. She was doing her best.
"Yes..." She replied quietly, her features falling into a sort of sad faraway expression. Yes, she had been sent away as well.. She had not a clue where she had been going. Cara had been so nervous, so jittery, almost frightened. Her mother had assured her everything would be alright.. Her silbings had all looked horribly upset, unable to speak to her... She closed her eyes tightly for a moment and let the memory run through her minds eye.
"It's alright child, do not fret... Do your very best Cara, do your best to please the new humans and everything shall be just fine.. " Her mother had looked away then, unable to keep eye contact as their human had grabbed her scruff and led her away. Cara had fought, pulled and wiggled in the two-leggeds grasp. None of her littermates would look at her. The barn was so quiet. "Mother? I will be able to come and visit, r-right?" She had stared, wild eyes wide and frightened. They were almost through the doors... Her mother would still not look at her. "I love you, my Cara.." Her mother had choked on those words, before the barn doors swung shut behind her.
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[/i] Cara swallowed the lump in the back of her throat, tightening her spheres before finally opening them. She didn't understand this breeding concept. Why did they have to seperate her family? It just wasn't fair. It just didn't make sense. Do not fret.. Fly sounded like her mother. It made her chest hurt, but she smiled past it. [/color] "I-if.. I go back.. They w-will take me away again, won't they, F-Fly?"
It was dissapointing to hear that the birds would simply no longer fall for her. This world was so strange, so different. She'd never been in the open like this, so far from the humans and their leashes and fences. She followed Fly and watched intently, obrs sparkling with interest. A gasp escaped her smiling kissers, as somehow Fly had snatched up a wiggly silver thing right from the stream. She couldn't control her excitment now, starting to wiggle again and dance her paws back and forth infront of her. Food? This did not look like food. She had never smelt anything like it! It wiggled, mouth opening oddly and eyes unblinking. How stranger. "W-wow! Fish? wow... what...do I.." She stopped talking, loosing her train of thought and leaning down to poke the slippery creature with her snout. "Oh!!" She giggled, jumping back as it reacted to her touch. She lowered her front end, rump in the air and growled playfully taking a lunge at it and nipping it softly.
Stay here and learn these strange ways? She was fearfull, nervous, but the thought of going to some new human with new rules was just as frightening. And there was another dog here? Cara nodded happily, a huge smile plastered on her mug. "I would l-l-like that, Fly. A-and I can stay with you r-right? I won't have to leave...or get sent away ag-again.. Will I? " Her stomach grumbled and finally the girl relaxed enough to actually attempt eating the Fish thing. Jaws open and about to take a bite, the girl halted and looked up to see a male suddenly in their presence.
The pups head tilted quite severely to one side as Tynan winked at her and spoke. She was utterly confused, and reacted according to how Fly reacted. She shivered, backing up quickly, uncoordinated legs scrambling to get her behind her friend. She stood frightened, hearing the low growl from Fly. Cara had always been wary of males, the farm dogs back home were not always so pleasant to her and her siblings. Eyes darted to the fish, tail wiggling slowly but tucked under her rump submissively. She was so hungry...
As Fly moved forward and began to circle the male, Cara let a paw rise from the earth and slowly took a step towords the fish. She stalked silently up to the thing, it wasn't wiggling anymore... Spheres locked on the adults infront of her, she lay down infront of this new food and secured it in her paws. If Tynan tried to take it she wouldn't put up a fight.. So she decided to eat quickly, as she was desperately hungry and back home an uneaten meal would be quickly snatched up by the nearest canine present. Still staring silently at the adults, she began to chew and rip at the fish. Soon, this new and wonderful taste overtook her and her eyes could only focus on the meal that she now scarfed down as quickly as possible.
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Post by Starrlight on Mar 26, 2010 0:37:40 GMT -5
He grinned at her hostility, shrugging off her dismissals as though mere suggestions. A proper spitfire, this one... why would he leave, seeking the king, when the conversation here was so much more stimulating. The sights too, he thought, gazing appreciatively at Fly. He had spoken of Cara, but that was more for the reaction from the older fem. He wasn't one to seek out pups, and she was a tad too young for his tastes. Back in the city, fems had fallen off porches over him as he walked by, fighting one another for a chance to be escorted. Big bad street walker, second in command in the district, Valdrik's golden boy, with a hellish tongue and handsome appearance. Why shouldn't they? Still, he had left a trail of broken hearts behind him... prissy lapdogs, with their shallow conversation, barely held his interest long enough for him to catch a name. Street fems were better... but uncouth, ungroomed, and oftentimes so masculine themselves that he was diverted. There was rarely a balance, and when it came, he would milk it for as long as it lasted.
Here it was different. First fem he met, graceful, witty, and completely sardonic. Hard to get, of course... a challenge. Tynan always loved a good challenge. It wasn't that he felt an immediate connection to this wolfess. Nah, it was the acid that dripped from her tongue, the scorn in her eyes. He wanted to see how far he could get her to go, how angry she could be made. Though her tone was caustic, her words were relatively subdued, as though carefully assessed and chosen. He wondered why she held back. Was he on civilized ground now?
"Perhaps not yet, sweetheart, but later she will find my words quite encouraging, do you not agree?" He looked at her, then shook his head. "Or perhaps you would not know, for you don't seem the type to go for males... a fact that I completely understand. I too prefer feminine company myself, which, if I need explain myself, is why I am here." He put his best innocent face on. "Unless you would like me to wander off, alone and unescorted, into the depths of your territory? I don't suggest you lettin me do that... I have a horrible sense of direction. It's just too much for this poor, stupid head of mine."
He could have followed her instructions quite easily... the scent was clear as day and the landmarks evident. Still, he couldn't help but goad her. It was his nature. Her remark about the ocean made him chuckle. "Oh, honey, I've been known to hold my breath for quite a long time. Drowning is definitally not the issue here." He winked at her, then glanced at the pup, who was silently digging into a fish. Though hungry, there was no way Tynan would ever steal from a whelp. City life was harsh, but his mom raised him right. It was with a feeling of nostalgia, however, that he watched her tuck in, as though soon someone else would discover her meal and take it from her. He had been in the same boat, larger dogs stealing every scrap he had if he did not choke it down fast enough. He took an almost imperceptable step back from the pup... he had nothing against the young. He could be a real piece of work sometimes, but he wasn't seriously cruel.
'It was a pleasure meeting you sir.'
That wasn't a bit obvious, love. He stood up, now going closer to Fly. "Somehow I am getting some pretty negative vibes from your direction, sugar. Now, is that any way to treat a guest? What would your darling Alpha think? I haven't done a thing to you or the pup, and here you are, acting like I'm some sort of hellhound." He feigned a hurt ego. Then his characteristic, ever-present smile once again broke through, and his abrupt subject change was completely random. "So, what do you wolf-ish types do for fun around here? Hunt? Howl at the moon?" His tone wasn't disrespectful.. not quite at least. If there was a hint of teasing in there, well... he couldn't be blamed for ignorance, now could he?
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Taboo
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Post by Taboo on Apr 4, 2010 1:16:11 GMT -5
Time sprung forward in ever graceful, consistent leaps. Never impeded by any obstacle or failing in performance unlike every mortal thing, it portrayed as one of the most fascinating truths in Dorian's life. Of course, he never dwelled on it too long. The idea of spending something so precious wastefully always repulsed him. Still the seeds of possibilities sprouted in fertile soil inside his reclusiveness. In honesty that Dorian stubbornly refused to cater to, he wished he had the power to stop time. Not to simmer in the moment, but more to wield the ability to intervene inside the most inexorable force in the world. He knew such a fancy sounded absurd. The desire to halt time stemmed from foolish pride. Reflecting upon it, most of Dorian's wishes insulated a greed and haughty nature. He was too embarrassed to indulge his petty and vain fantasies.
His adjustment to this new life definitely would not come close to matching time's fluidity. A new jealousy flared in him for not somehow obtaining a higher level of perfection. But at least for now he was at peace. Only him, Cleitus, and the foreign woman remained. Once again he enabled cloaking his poor social skills rather than train them. All in due time he would work through that torture. His mind rippled on as pebbles disturbed the surface of his concentration.
Cleitus continuously intruded in on his inward meditaton like a sharp rock caught in the web of a sore paw. Contrasting eyes often skirted to him, trying hard to piece together what flickered on the young wolf's visage. Ears flickered to catch Avendasora's words, but they easily flitted outside of memory. He felt stung at being overlooked and almost blatantly ignored, so he merely reflected her sentiments. Body displayed immovable restrained as Dorian's head craned high and alert, despite his day dreaming. New scents filtered on the wind and assaulted his senses. More strangers had infiltrated the border as well, most likely pleading for a place to feel welcome. They entered from all directions and definitely belied a diverse group. A certain wave of relief submerged them that they didn't mob together in all one spot. Meeting them one by one eased the tension beginning to arise from all the possible danger moving in. Perhaps Virgil played the trusting, favorable type, but Dorian grew up in a world of monsters.
The subtle shard of shock that briefly registered on Cleitus' face wasn't lost on him. It saddened Dorian that the hessian lived amongst so much mistreatment that a few words revived him. Young straplings should be revered and constantly praised for accomplishment. They were, after all, this generation's replacement. To save embarrassment, Dorian turned his face to where Fly and Virgil stalked off before Cleitus could catch his observation.
"Was I being foolish in the thought that Virgil would return?" A slight shade of rose painted his cheeks. Perhaps the King expected him to start doing something useful once his presence was required elsewhere. As soon as the notion entered him, Dorian sprang to his feet. Fibers tautened together in preparation for hard work. He directed his posture towards Cleitus and offered a hidden wink. "He's going to be rather swamped in a short time, maybe we should find some food to help replenish the growing pack?" Dorian refused to feel like a dawdling pup waiting for a parent to come take care of it.
He swung his cranium in the direction Baby had exited a while ago for the attractive fae. "She'll help take you to the King. I hope your concerns are settled." Inwardly, he growled at himself for sounding so unapproachably formal. It was too late to take back the dispassionate remark, so he brushed it off by prancing around the ebon youth. "You know these lands better than I do, and it will help me feel more comfortable being around newcomers after I do something helpful." A coy grin split his maw in two, revealing a bit of his dangerous, younger self. He knew Cleitus resembled him in the way of not really enjoying being around a crowd. He playfully danced to the side, his lust for farouche adventures surging through him. His sapphire and emerald pools glittered like sharpened stone as he waited for a response.
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Post by Asphyxia on Apr 6, 2010 21:07:44 GMT -5
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The lack of food had everyone turning on each other. The time of which they would be tested had come among the pack, starving them and driving them against each other. Fangs clashed at thinning bodies, blood was spilled. They hadn’t crossed the line yet.. Hadn’t turned to cannibalism yet, but it was only a matter of time. Freiya’s spheres squeezed shut, acoustics flattening against her skull as she listened to the screaming agony of one of the older females. She had gotten so badly malnourished and so sick, that she was in constant pain, screaming at her pack members to end her life now. “Freiya.” Lips curled upward in an irritable snarl of warning, plume lifting as the voice of another wolf entered her personal space she had created about herself. A wall of protection against the reality of what was going on until she could find some way to do something… Anything. “It’s been announced. It’s official. There is no prey left in these lands. It’s too cold for most and what hasn’t migrated, died long ago and was already eaten…”
Casey. Her brother, His voice drifted to her acoustics and even with the news the lyrics carried, they soothed her very soul. Their sister Brokelyn had already died. She’d fallen ill like several other wolves and had passed on. To them, it was a relief to no longer hear her screams of pain and hunger. Snapping her narrowing orbs open upon Casey, her auds gravitated toward him, lip quivering. The snarl had quickly diminished. It amazed her how calm and collected her brother could continue to be. Lifting her crown, she tipped it in his direction. “Has the King decided what to do?” Without the King’s word, they could do very little. It irritated Freiya that they stood here, doing nothing. Only to die. “His son is trying to convince him to let the pack move to other lands to try to find food.” Courajess. She felt a growl rumbling in her chest at the very name. But she had to respect what he was trying to do at the moment.
Nodding her crown slightly, she knew it was time to take a stand. Brushing her shoulder against her brothers in reassurance, she loped past him toward the King’s caves. As she reached them, she saw Courajess sitting there, speaking quietly with another pack member. Upon hearing the snow crunching beneath her pads, his spheres quickly located her. It was possibly one of the few times she had seen a serious look upon his visage. Holding her mug high, she glanced his way before she stepped through the den entrance. Without permission, it was a feat very little were willing to try. “My King.” She announced herself as she cleared her throat, hoping he would not flog her for intruding. “Freiya. What is it?” His voice was raspy. The King, too, was hungry. They all were and a lot were weak. “I know which direction the herds have migrated. If we wish to survive any longer, we must move fast. Staying here, we will die.” His gaze lifted to meet hers from his hidden chassis in the shadows at the back of the cave. “The weak will die..” Time for a slap of reality. “If that is what must happen, so be it. That is reality. That is nature. Only the strongest will survive and if any of us have a chance left in Hell, it’s to move now.”
Fly’s stubborn gaze drifted back to the worrisome pup. “No, child. If you wish to stay with me, I will not send you away.” How much more reassurance could she give Cara? She refused to admit hat if Cara went back, they may very well send her away again. She didn’t need to have the pup feel worse than she probably already did. The way the child had quickly moved away from the fish at least told Fly that she understood when trouble may arise. Lips curled upward as she snapped her attention back to the other male. “Quite the contrary, Tynan. I rather find that she may not find your words at all encouraging later. For all you know, she may not go for males at all, or perhaps never be interested in either genders. I’m sure she will set her own path, one way or the other, with or without your words.”
Acoustics tipped toward him, narrowed spheres darkening slightly, although such could not be noticed through black spheres. “I prefer the company of none, with the exception of this child and the King.” Her hardened gaze twitched back to the pup momentarily to be sure she was doing alright before guiding back toward the dog. A slightly amused smirk twitched at the right corner of her lip. Why did he remind her so much of Courajess? They were both arrogant, pushy, flirtatious and egotistical. Perhaps that was the reason. “With all the cougars, bears and other predators around, it’s a very tempting idea.” Fire spit at him in the form of her lyrics as she forced herself to decide whether or not to take him to Virgil. But she refused to move until the pup had finished her meal and she truly had no desire to return to the politics of pack life when she was tired and irritable. “This isn’t my territory. You’ve strolled upon the lands of Cthonia, belonging to Vergilius Patroklos.”
As he spoke of drowning being no issue, she forced herself to ignore the impending memory of when Courajess had pulled her from the ocean tides. Following his gaze toward Cara and catching his obvious step back from her and her meal, she had no choice but to respect that. Fly, too, had many times when she had needed to fight for her food. Particularly when it had grown too cold and all prey had either died or moved off. Back then.. She’d fought for a lot. Life, family.. Food.. Before she could open her mouth to speak, Tynan was already speaking up, and her gaze traveled back from the hungry, eating pup to the man once again. Hackles daggered ever so slightly, narrowed spheres glaring at him as she dug her talons into the dirt beneath her pads. He was right. And she wasn’t quite sure yet how Virgil might react to her behavior toward the male. “You’re correct. I don’t know what my alpha would think, however, he must respect that I have my own reasons for behaving such towards you.”
Lips curled back from canines as she spoke, acoustics standing erect upon her skull. “My name is Fly. You can stop with the pet names any time now.” Reclining upon her haunches in obvious stubbornness, she refused to budge. “I’ve given you clear direction on how to get to the alpha and quite honestly, if even you can’t figure that one out, than I’m sure it will be of no loss to my darling alpha if you become food to a cougar or bear, as you clearly have nothing to offer his pack.” Now, her lips coiled into a smile. A deadly, cold smile that some in her previous pack would walk away from. But never Courajess… “Wolf-ish?” Laughter pitched toward the air before her expression grew serious once more. “I’m one of those types that doesn’t do anything that your types might consider fun. Hunt, perhaps… Hunting other wolves is more fun than hunting game though. But I certainly don’t howl at the moon.” Brow furrowed slightly as she let herself go into thought process. “What I considered fun in my previous pack may be considered… cruel here.” Gaze met his once more as she stopped speaking. She’d let him ponder that one.
“Cara, are you enjoying your fish? Maybe I can show you how to catch them when you’re done eating.” She winked at the pup as she gazed at her over her shoulder. The male seemed hungry too and while it would be common courtesy to offer him a meal, she wasn’t about to catch it for him. “You’re free to join, Tynan. That is, if you can catch one.” Growing up in the north, where the ice was thick, the rivers ran far and old and the weather was colder, a lot of her meals were fish. She’d excelled at the sport of hunting fish, despite her fear of deep water. Plume rose and fell about her hind legs, curling against her side as she lifted her crown tall and gazed once again at Tynan.
wordcount;; One thousand, four hundred, thirty-one lyrics;; Savior - Rise Against
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Post by Asphyxia on Jun 17, 2010 23:35:28 GMT -5
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A grin tugged at the Hessians features, acoustics shifting forward to stand at attention. Cocking his crown, his lop-sided grin appeared almost childish. “Ah, lass. You barely know me and I am already a condemned man.” The seething glare sent in his direction made the male pause mid-stride. The pretty fem he was betrothed to was feisty. She was challenging, stubborn and above all- infuriating. But the brujo refused to be ignored by her and refused to let the intriguing woman get away so easily with just a glare of her eyes and some biting words meant to hurt his auds. Plume swished behind his frame as he stepped forward once more. “Come, lass -” As her body swung around to face him, he stopped again and stood where he was, gazing upon her. She was far more delightfully beautiful when her black spheres blazed with the fires of hell and her fur stood on end. And more than that, she was paying attention to him. “I have a name. It is Freiya and if you continue to call me petty things such as lass, then I’ll be sure to cut out your tongue for you. Make it less difficult.
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[/b]” Delighted at her words, Courajess let a chuckle pass his lips. He was normally very serious, but being so laid-back and teasing caused her irritation, which got him some attention from the woman who was meant to soon be his lifelong mate. What harm was it in getting to know as much about her as possible? Even if she despised him? “ Don’t tease me, honey.” Amused spheres lifted to spot her lips curling to reveal the angry tips of canines ready to inflict injury, her own black orbs glaring bullets at him. “ Go off and kill wolves. It is, after all, what you knights do, is it not?” Her words were bitten out through clenched canines, and while he knew she was very bitter about the way men looked upon women in their pack, the way she told him to go and kill so easily uneased him and made him wince. She must have caught the very small movement as she let a smirk easily play across her lips. “ Couldn’t handle the bloodshed? Is that why you returned to a land where very few spoke of you? To become betrothed and become a retired daddy?” Lifting her crown tall, Freiya’s acoustics shifted in his direction. The muscle in his jaw flexed, his shoulder muscles rippling beneath his thick pelt as his spheres narrowed upon her. “ You’d be smart to start acting the Lady you are meant to be. Is it the bloodshed that drove you to become a ‘knight’ then [/I]Freiya ?[/b]” Laughter pierced the air, following at his words heels as if it were a pied piping clown. “ Your threats don’t scare me, Courajess Aingel.” But even as she said the words, even as he began to regret the move he made, his hind-legs launched him from the ground, his fore-pads shoving hard into her to knock her to the ground. His jaws were about her throat, though his teeth barely scraped her fur. He pinned her in a position so that she could not move without willingly putting her jugular into his jaws. Many emotions scrambled through his heart, his expression hardening as he felt her quiver briefly beneath his larger body. His breath warmed the area at her throat, his plume lightly brushing against the toes of her back pads. “ I warned you long ago, damsel, not to tempt me.” Her spheres lit up with fury, quickly diminishing the streak of shock in her pretty orbs. “ If you really -” It took the blink of an eye and heat soared between the two. Pinned beneath him, Freiya had nowhere to go, her pads scrambling against his belly and chest to attempt to shove the larger male off of her as his kiss heated her cheeks into a quick blush. Finally, her talons dug into his flesh and she shoved hard, forcing her body upward and her lips far from his eager kisses. A groan left the warrior as he felt claws break through flesh, his body being shifted as the female slipped from beneath his grasp. Muscles tensed as he watched her jump back to her pads. “ Tempt me again and I will do more than kiss you, woman.” His dark green spheres gazed upon hers, full of fury. The fury that ignited his very core. The flames that sparked the heat between them that never, before in his life, had he ever felt. He wanted more and he was determined to get it.[/I] A groan slipped from the knights lips, his body rolling on the ground as he attempted to get more comfortable in the place he’d chosen to bed down. Though light shone through the bushes under which he’d slept the previous night, the wolf had no intention of waking just yet. Not yet. His mouth was parched, craving the cooling relief water would bring him. Jaws cracked apart on a yawn, a light moan leaving his chest upon the expression. Shifting his weight onto his side, he allowed his paws to flop over upon the ground, plume limp on the earth. It was cool, here in the shade of the bushes and the sun proved to be very hot during summer in these lands. He, a wolf accustomed to much cooler climates, was finding it difficult to get comfortable here. It would take him a few days to adjust to the temperature and difference in overall climate. These lands were warmer, some areas hotter, than his home lands. He had been born as the Prince of the Ice Fields and as such, he had been well adapted to below-freezing temperatures. Acoustics flattened on the mans skull, body rolling onto his belly once more. Toes spread apart slightly on his pads as he gripped the earth, dragging his body upward so that he sat upon his haunches. Tilting his crown, the brujo gazed out from his chosen bed to the lands beyond. It was then that he realized what had dragged him from his deep slumber. Smoke. Forest fires blazed nearby and it was with this that he also realized why it was so hot here. The wolf stared at the ashen skies, darkened from clouds of death, dragged on by the ravenous mirth of hungry flames that lapped at the trees, sucking in as much oxygen as possible and spilling it back out in an angry black smoke. Sighing, he shifted his gaze in the direction of where he recalled catching the wolves scent. He would meet the alpha before nightfall and he would find the woman who had killed his dear friends sister. Nostrils flared, taking in the scent, even from this distance in lands so foreign to him. Scraping his talons across the earth, the male slowly rose and guided his chassis in the direction of the alpha. It was here, he would perhaps exact vengeance for his friend and if he was able, settle for a time being. The plan, however, was to gain entry to these lands as a trusted newcomer, or at least an unjudged one, before he would seek justice in the head of the other predator. Still, he couldn’t fathom what had transpired between the two females to cause such a deadly battle. And if the she-wolf provided him with no good explanation, he would show her what the consequences were. His gaze continued to drag back toward the smokey haze and the deadly path of flames climbing their way through the forests. Were forest fires a regular thing in Cthonia? Perhaps it was why he could scent the wolves so close to the ocean. Safety was in the water. The scent was strong and still fairly fresh upon the air, so the male moved ahead, continuing on in a laid-back, non-threatening pace. His shoulders rolled back as a sign of relaxation, plume limp but wagging slightly, acoustics shifting upon his skull as his expression grew friendly and seemingly optimistic for a place to call home. Weaving through the trees and easing his way over fallen ones, the male paused at a stream of water, dipping his crown low, shoulders hunched as his tongue slipped forth to lap at the cool liquid. Finally, his thirst was quenched. Pulling back from the water surface, he decided it smart to make his way out of the trees and away from the path of fire. There had been a time when he’d enjoyed losing himself in fire.. Shaking the thoughts from his head, he tipped his crown as he continued moving forward and quickly spotted a wolf in the distance. The alpha perhaps? The scent was strong and seemed to be the same as that which marked the territory. Pads carried him quickly in that direction, a smirk tipping his lips. Ash clung to the whites of his fur, graying and blackening the soft hairs. He either appeared dirty or less white than he truly was. He could only hope the alpha didn’t judge him as a dirty mongrel. A chuckle passed his lips at the thought as he slowed to a light trot, then halted before the alpha, dipping his crown low in a bow, chest lowering slightly towards the grassy fields. He‘d had the time to observe the King before he had gotten to him, taking the time to take in his handsome, wise features and seemingly relaxed composure. That wasn’t to say that he didn’t appear deep in thought, however. Acoustics tipped forward as he slowly lifted himself and reclined upon his haunches, his respects for the mans position held true in the way he held himself. He may have been a Prince at one point in his lifetime, but that was not to mean he didn’t know his place in the hierarchy, much less in lands that were not his fathers. “ My King, I apologize for not knowing your name, but offer my own. I’m Courajess and seeking a temporary home, if welcomed.” Emerald spheres quickly lifted in hopes of greeting the King with a proper, respectful speech.[/color][/center] wordcount;; one thousand, seven-hundred and one. lyrics;; cold - crossfade[/size][/blockquote] [/color][/td][/tr][/table][/center]
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Post by Sighani on Jun 18, 2010 2:26:01 GMT -5
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"Master, will you tell me the best story you've ever heard?" Banishing the shadows of night with confidence and grace, the morning sun rose swiftly and vibrantly over the lands of the Patroklian Empire. Wheat golder than imagination and richer than that which graced the undying Elysian realm rippled as a light breeze whisked by, carrying on its wake the crisp, aqua smell of the sea. Since the defeat of Saladin Mavrokardia and the rejection of the feral black lords, darkness had never tainted this sacred home. Until now. And who would ever have guessed that such a dread harbinger would be delivered hence in a form so innocent and unassuming? Vergilius Patroklos sat upon the edge of his glorious empire, weary head hung low, eyes misty with tears of betrayal, speaking with the Seed of Destruction itself.
As he turned his regal muzzle upon the shadow-garbed boy, his heart shattered. But a broken heart may yet beat, just as a ghost may shape dead lips into a smile. "I should have expected such a query from you, Cleitus, my love," he replied quietly, sunfire eyes crinkling in mirth, the wandering king of kings trying his best to veil his inner torment with a mask of fatigue. It was best not to stir the shadows of a Mavrokardian heart, particularly not with thorns of blame and scorn. "My grandmother, Nefertari Marytmut-Patroklos Regina, was the last and greatest queen of the desert kingdom in the southernmost reaches of the Patroklian Empire, and the myths of her culture are very different than those we now speak, and far older. She told me once a tale of creation, and there has never been a tale so fair as this.
"A very long time ago, the mountains were but grains of sand on the shores of time, and our race was but a savage one, wolves existing without names, without speech, without dreams. The Moon, who then called herself Iah-Atara, had quarelled with her sister the Sun, Ra-Atara, over the love of the West Wind, and she was fast regretting her folly. As she walked the night-sea above, she looked down to the earth and saw the ignorant simplicity of the pre-wolf creatures, in their innocent animal joys, and felt both envy and sorrow. She shed two tears, one for each emotion, onto the emerald plains, and thought nothing more of Ra-Atara and the West Wind.
"The tears, however, grew forth a bud previously unknown to the infant earth. A great tree, black of bark, gnarled and sickly with Iah-Atara's jealousy, that uncurled with ugly malevolence in the plains, choking out as much grass as it could with its razor-sharp roots, dropping poisoned fruit, shedding leaves of ash and fire. Soon the great emerald plains were reduced to naught but a vast desert, and the pre-wolves began to die, for the roots of the tree reached deep into the underground veins of the earth, poisoning the water and all the creatures who drank it. But Ra-Atara saw this, one day in her day-sight march, and she reached down with one golden hand and blessed the tree: gave it true-life in a sun-mark, as she had once done with the earth during the beginning of the days, and all the creatures on it. And the tree burst green with leaves and red with flowers, and it grew vast, reaching towards the sky in praise.
"True-life is not meant for trees, however, not even one such as this, and soon she grew lonely. She threw acorns across the North Wind, and from those child-trees grew up around her, tall and proud but with the part-life of the plants, not the true-life we know. And she remained lonely. Iah-Atara passed by and saw her sorrow. And she said, 'O Daughter, wherefore dost thou weep?' The Mother Tree looked up to the heavens and replied, 'Mother Moon, all daughters wish for daughters of their own, and I have bred but silent sons.' And Iah-Atara said, 'I will think on this.' Much troubled was she, for the Mother Tree was her child, and she had much to atone for in her making.
"Now, the Life-Forge is the home of the Winds, possessed of the shards of all forms of life. Wolves contain short-dream, long-fate, true-born: we who would live short lives, with the capacity to change our fates, we who would die and will be reborn. Some shards forged were left untended, and Iah-Atara stole into the Forge as the Winds slept and took the nearest three shards she could see. Fleeing, she crushed them into dust, and sprinkled it across the far-reaching boughs of the Mother Tree, with her benediction. The tree burst at once into blossom, and so the great Marytmut Queens were born, in buds from the Mother Tree during each centennial Benediction--every hundred years, by our reckoning. They were all of them daughters, and they had the shards long-walk, true-soul, far-mind: they who live long, find soul-mates, possess the memory of all things. With such noble-born women gracing the earth, is it any wonder the desert was never ruled by a king?"
As Virgil spoke the last words, his spirits lifed by the weaving of such a grand yarn and his doom momentarily forgotten, he felt a stirring in the lush ivory mane near his breast. Glancing down, he saw a bundle of ebony curled up, fast asleep and dreaming, against his heart, and thence would Cleitus Mavrokardia remain. Against the wise counsel of kings before him, Virgil knew there would yet shine some light in the boy. A heart born in darkness did not have to love in darkness.
But as it was, darkness was exactly where they now resided and sought refuge, as it were, from their own pasts. A high-born Patroklian king cannot often be troubled to look West--to the west lies the shadow realm, a vile land that each day claims the fires of the sun, smouldering with the nightmares and traumas of all wolfkind beyond the vast reaches of a tempest-tossed sea. It was whence that the Mavrokardian clan first crawled, crimson fangs gnashing and dribbling streams of discord and pestilence throughout an ever-glorious empire, and ere that too-fresh calamity, it was whence that all ghosts and demons emerged, if the tales were to be believed. But Virgil now stared into the firey heart of the West, staring into darkness, wondering when it would spread as it ever did and claim these fair lands. Not for any unsettling, symbolic reason, however: his lands burned, and they burned in the lands of eternal sunset.
Smoke and ash choked Cthonia's western horizon, the hills crowned with a scarlet blaze. A purging flame, some said; necessary to keep the greedy green fingers of the forest from stretching too far, and it seemed contained for now, hardly wild, though its roaring heat and size would suggest otherwise. The king could smell the sickly-sweet stench of seered earth, musky as the sweat of any tortured beast, and it unsettled him. The gentle whisper of the waves, however, was a familiar comfort, one he dared not leave behind. The fires were still far-off, hardly a vermillion thread upon the horizon, but he knew the slightest whim of the breeze could weave that thread into a tapestry of death and destruction to cover the whole of these lands. Perhaps the Lady Fly felt unsettled by the dark enigma of the ocean, but Virgil feared nothing more than the blinding clarity of that westward inferno. He sat for a moment half-dreaming, listening to the distant chatter of the wolves on the beach, the rustling of the wind through golden wheat and sand, the swell of the tide, and the deep silence that loomed behind all sound. He couldn't rightly say how long it had been since Fly had left his company, disappearing into a more familiar sylvan landscape, or what scant treeland Cthonia had to offer, but his thoughts kept drifting to the stone-hewn warrior nonetheless, the king finding her words . . . intriguing. She was a mystery, one he looked forward to unfolding, if only she would allow it.
Sun-blessed eyes flickered to a figure approaching from the gloom of the west and his daydreams fled. It was fortunate this wanderer had made such a timely appearance. If not for the distraction, Virgil might have spent the remainder of the day sitting lost in thought. He offered a kindly smile to the new hessian, noting the smudges of ash upon his alabaster pelt, the thick smell of smoke intermingling with his own scent, smothering it, hiding it. "I hope Cthonia was not too cruel to you, sir. She is forged of fire and ice and not merciful to travelers," he said after a moment's observation, lips hitching up in silent laughter. "Call me Virgil. Courajess, is it? A noble name indeed. I pray it is an honest reflection of the man who bears it. Come." He rose swiftly to his paws, stretching cramped joints and muscles, a sphynx-like smile dancing across his features, a mask in its own right. "A king's duty is never done. My pack will be missing me by now. It's best you know what you're getting yourself into here before you make any hasty decisions, so feel free to come along and I'll introduce you to the mob. The wolves here can be quite . . . unique. Ah, here comes one now!"
Bright laughter broke free of his royal demeanor as Baby came romping through the wheat, bearing aloft a stick that was nigh the size of her whole body. She wriggled up to him, bringing news of yet another rogue on Cthonia's shores. He swung his muzzle around to Courajess and cast the brujo a look that screamed I told you so, then dropped to the ground, tail wagging, and playfully shoved at Baby with careful mitts. "When will these strangers learn that Cleitus is ever much the king as I?" he beseached the girlpup with an exhasperated laugh, shaking his head. He supposed they would learn sooner or later. Cleitus was his sole heir, and would likely come to rule alongside Virgil not as a prince but as co-monarch, if only he learned to control that damnable temper. "Perhaps you could enlighten them on such a matter, eh Baby? In the meantime, I must pass judgement. Say hello to Courajess, young one. He, too, is lost and seeking a home. What say you? Should we let him stay?" Yet another cryptic smile graced pristine features as he glanced at the emerald-eyed brujo from over his shoulder, but as soon as the words escaped his maw, he was on his feet again, delicately tracing his footsteps back to shore.
"Hail, maiden!" Virgil called as his paws sank yet again into fine sand, a lilting chuckle spreading through his words and easing tension, thoughts of fire and darkness banished as easily as the dawn dispatches the night. He approached the fatale, dipping his crown in a respectful bow, the scent of ash and fire assaulting his nares yet again, though this time it was different. This was not the scent of Cthonia's fires, but rather some distant hell, the bitter perfume of grief and betrayal, destruction and loss. His smile slipped as he came to stand before the beauty, as like in appearance to Virgil himself as his own reflection, if only for her eyes--deep and sad, possessed of wisdom as dark and tumultuous as ocean depths, hardened by years of . . . what? She had the stature of a warrior, yet the carriage of a queen. Clearing his throat, Vergilius Patroklos assumed a more formal air, plume delicately scythed behind his lean frame, head canted high at a gentle angle. "You have the audience of Vergilius Patroklos, madam, ruler of these lands. I trust Cleitus has welcomed you with all the hospitality Cthonia has to offer."
He smiled gently for the snow-spun maiden, then turned to assauge Cleitus's reaction. The young hessian seemed troubled, glacier-shocked eyes wide and churning with some inner turmoil, but then again, Cleitus seemed ever troubled by some dark cloud or another. It was difficult to read a veil of constant darkness, and as of late, that veil seemed to lift more seldom than ever. Virgil only prayed that it was the stress of allowing strangers within an ice-bound heart. He refused to listen to the haunting counsel of his father--Mavrokardian blood did not doom a mere boy to Mavrokardian nature. Gods willing, he would lead Cleitus from that shadow forever.
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Post by Asphyxia on Jun 18, 2010 22:11:16 GMT -5
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High-pitched laughter lifted from Baby’s lips as she flopped over at Virgil’s gentle, playful pushes. She had dropped her stick upon him jumping down to greet her in a playful manner that left her completely gleeful. “I’m not knowing, Virgil, but I think he is! She dropped her voice into a soft whisper, as if Cleitus were closeby, listening with ever-aware acoustics. “But… But Virgil, Sir, I don’t think he knows…” Rolling over, she spread her short hind-legs out behind her, belly pressed to the soft earth, her grin entirely focused on Virgil. She had yet to even notice the newcomer, as of yet. Tilting her crown at the King, she listened to what he said and thought, a light “Humm.” of thought whispering past pup-lips. “I’ll figure something out, Virgil!”
Oftentimes pups were given little to no responsibility simply because they were not viewed as responsible enough, much less experienced enough. So, it was with a serious and adult-attempted attitude that Baby puffed out her little chest and prepared to greet the newcomer with a graceful integrity to make any alpha proud. But as she processed the name and the pictures that flashed from her memories, she stared, stunned and all but the ‘proper’ pup. She realized who the familiar face, although slightly darkened by ash, belonged to. Courajess. To her, Courajess was a bit of a big-brother type figure and had been since the day he had found her on her own at the side of her dead and bloody parents. Her dropped jaw quickly lifted to press her lips together, a silly smile unfolding upon her visage. Chocolate spheres brightened as she quickly bounded forward.
Upon accidentally head-butting Courajess’ leg, the Corgi landed quite gracelessly upon her rump. Shoving her little crown amidst the males leg, she hugged him close, happy to see her old friend again. Sitting back, she tipped her skull as far back as possible to stare up at the brujo. Sheepishness of a child thought to have crossed a line, Baby’s brow knit together. “Courajess! Oh, I missed you, oh and Miss Cheryl too, Courajess!” All without breath, her words spilled forward almost too quickly, one landing upon the other as they rolled off her tongue. Her excitement left her rear slightly lifted from the earth, her little tail wagging so hard, her entire body wriggled. Acoustics stood high and forward on her head, eyes flashing in her sheer joy. “Oh Coura’, where have you been!?” An exasperated sigh left her lips as she stared at him and let the smile drag away.
Thinking for a moment, she decided to indulge him on her own adventures. “When I couldn’t find Miss Cheryl, I started wandering all over, yup. I can’t remember how, but I ended up with Virgil and Cleitus and they’re amazing, yeah, they’re like… Big brothers too, yuh know?” Realizing that Courajess had only just met Virgil, Baby’s lips parted in a gleeful grin, showing off tiny canines. One of her ears flopped over, plume wagging furiously. “OH, Courajess! You haven’t met any of the others! Cleitus is my friend, yup, he’s Virgil’s friend too, yeah and Cleitus is awesome. He doesn’t like strangers and he can be pretty mean at first, but he’s cool. And then there’s Dorian Gray, and oh ‘Jess, he’s so nice! And the Fly lady, but I don’t like her, she’s mean to Cleitus and gets Cleitus in trouble.”
A frown knit her brow and pulled her tiny lips upward, a small growl leaving her little chest, before the words began spilling forward all over again. “And I just met this knew lady, but her name is Just Avendesora, okay? It’s hard to remember.” Running over to Courajess, she smacked him lightly with her paw in an attempt to give him a playful shove as Virgil had done to her, but with him being so much larger, she failed miserably. Staring at his leg a moment where she’d given him a shove, she gave her crown a quick shake and bounded off in the direction of the group. “Come on, Courajess! Over here, you gots to meet everybody, okay?! OH, and you HAVE to promise not to leave me again, okay?! You gots to stay with me now, yup.” As she led him quickly towards the group, she was careful to follow exactly in the steps Virgil had left behind, clearly demonstrating a liking and a form of looking up to the man.
Bounding towards Cleitus and Dorian Gray in attempt to allow Virgil the quiet introductions with the lady Just Avendesora, she excitedly romped a wide circle around the two males. “Cleitus and Dorian Gray, oh you have to meet my friend! He found me when I was little-er and he’s been my friend for long time. His name is Courajess and he found me again and he’s back and you guys should be friends with him too! We should all be friends, cause that’s what packs do right? And ‘Jess, this is Cleitus and Dorian Gray, the guys I was-a-telling you about!” Plopping her little haunches upon the ground between the three, Baby grinned happily at every one of them.
wordcount;; eight hundred, sixty-six. lyrics;; never leave - seether
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Post by Sighani on Jun 21, 2010 6:20:53 GMT -5
Cleitus Mavrokardia...Heart of Darkness
Novus Vita, Avendesora had called her home, lilting accent lending a mystic ring to the ancient language of kings. New Life. But new life, no doubt, had bred old death, for here she stood, an ivory maiden gracing the everlasting shores of Cthonia, the spirit world, in the words of fallen gods. He could practically taste the irony in the situation, but kept such thoughts safely hidden away. What caught his attention more than that was how a land called Fantasy could ever fall. What fell shadow had gripped that place and driven away such a stern beauty? Covered not in a soft snow but a hard frost, was the maiden Avendesora, too cold to touch, and beneath it she was forged of steel. It was her warrior's armor, no doubt. From her words Cleitus could gather that her sorrows were still too fresh to acknowledge, but perhaps in time she could come to shed that armor. She sought peace and refuge, after all: a soldier rests with her shield only when she's dead while an unencumbered maiden rests with ease. Her dismissal of his authority drew a smile across his lips, but he made no mention of it--there was no need to bring up matters of rank and power to one who could so easily cut him down. "You won't have to wait long for my master, Avendesora, and his judgement will be swift. He's a fair man, and wise. He sees much."
Lustrous glacier veils masked the stygian solitude within the boy's eyes, nightmares and demons kept safely caged in by a sapphire hue so innocent and unassuming that others could scarce glimpse the fell wasteland deep within. Nonetheless, they lent a frigid regard to the ebony-cloaked yearling. His words were ever as cold as his stare, and his heart was seldom warmer. However, the more he spoke with Dorian Gray, the more he came to realize that a voice too often chilled by fierce winter winds was tinged now with a dream of spring.
"The king is such a social creature. He thrives on attention and willing ears. Swamped as he may be, I have no doubt that he's enjoying every moment of it. He's been alone for quite some time now, with naught but a . . . an ungrateful brat for company." A smile flickered all too briefly across his lips, lightning followed by a paltry thunder of breathless laughter. There it was, the hairline fracture in the ice, the wraith-thin crack in his defenses from which hell itself would someday spill forth. His cheeks flushed as he realized the slip, the show of deeply-imprisoned emotion, of black-rooted pain, and the display of embarrassment was nigh as shameful. Cleitus shook his head, rose to his feet. He cast his gaze to the sky, its infinite blue mirrored in his glassy orbs--somewhere he could avoid Dorian's keen stare while he reclaimed his composure. The brute's subtle glances had not been lost on him before--Dorian registered emotion beautifully and without shame, and while his expressions where slight and private, they did not escape the notice of one who was trained to detect and dispell them in himself. But was it pity Cleitus had seen on those granite-carved features, or simply sorrow?
He checked himself swiftly, donning his crumbling mask as he saw Virgil approaching, followed by Baby and yet another wanderer. Smoke-stained and wind-touseled, the new hessian fit the part of a wayward rogue, right down to the easy half-smile slung so casually across his face and the gleam in his emerald eyes. He held his head with pride, but he didn't flaunt it; he carried himself with strength, but he didn't use it; he presented himself with respect, but he didn't force it. He was a soldier, as so many others were, and it was likely he had killed men for no reason other than orders. But as Cleitus narrowed his eyes on the hessian, he felt that there was little to fear. After all, Baby claimed to know the man--had she called him Courajess?--and Cleitus figured that anyone who'd had a hand in rearing such a lively, headstrong child could not be possessed of too dark a motive. His concerns rested mainly on Avendesora, the cryptic fatale who brought with her tides of tragedy and war, who doffed her family name, who spoke in the lofty, measured tones of royalty. He did not suspect her of treachery; he only feared that her guarded past, whatever it may entail, would catch up with her someday. And what then would become of Cthonia? Of Virgil? Cleitus banished the thought from his mind, turning instead to regard his master, dipping his maw in greeting--though less out of respect than to hide his face. Those sun-fired eyes, however, would not look away, so Cleitus turned at last to face Dorian fully.
He forced a smile for the warrior, trying to shrug off the burden of his thoughts. He needed the distraction of hard work, the sweet, mind-clearing exhaustion that only physical exhertion could bring. "He'll be relieved to be rid of said brat for a while, I'm sure," he said softly, lips hitching in a smirk that said more than the boy himself ever would. "I suppose I'll accept your offer, Dorian Gray. We might as well make ourselves useful." It was rousing to the spirits to see such livid action in a man who had too often seemed consumed by introspection, and the condition was infectious. As Dorian danced through the sand, deceitfully nimble paws carried along in a playful foxtrot, a stream of genuine laughter flowed from Cleitus's gently smiling jaws, plume swaying behind his lithe frame. Laughing freely, the ebony youth bounded to the crest of the shoreline, bunched muscles glad to be in use again after so long.
"I'm afraid you'll find I'm quite inept at taking down any large game," he confessed to Dorian, chuckling to himself. It wasn't that he was a hopeless clout when it came to hunting, though. He had spent the majority of his life solely with Virgil, and they had never had any need to hunt such beasts--smaller game was enough to sustain them comfortably in their travels. "My skills in tracking, however, are unparalleled," he continued, speaking with the cocksure pride that only a prince can wield. "What say we make a challenge of this? A fusion of my wit and your experience. A black doe dwells in yonder wood." He motioned towards a patch of stunted trees off in the distance, the sparse but far-reaching forest into which Fly had disappeared only moments ago. Half-lidded eyes gleamed with a flash of excitement, the midnight-cloaked youth stoking an ember of adventure Dorian had kindled between them. It was the first time he could remember feeling like a child in . . . far too long. "I wager we can catch her." Is it bright where you are?
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Post by obnoxiousturkey on Jun 25, 2010 2:31:51 GMT -5
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Adults were quite confusing sometimes. Young Cara had looked up very few times while devouring the slippery, slimey silver thing that Fly had called Fish. She had looked up to hear Fly's reasurring words... That she could actually stay with her if she like. And somehow, Cara knew in the back of her mind that if she were to return home now, she would certainly regret it. She continued to scarf down the fish, her puppy eyes darting up to catch Tynan taking a step back from her and her meal.
Cara slowed the pace at which she ate almost immediately sensing the calming signal Tynan provided. He wasn't going to steal her food... What a relief! Tail thumped on the ground as auds pricked this way and that... They sure used a lot of funny words.
Talk of cougars made her shiver, while talk of alphas and Virgilius made her blink in utter confusion. They spoke of drowning and hunting and howling.. she began to zone out as the licked at the remains of the meal she had so desperately needed.
That big blue bag on the highest shelf in the warm barn was present in her mind... She remembered how they would all crowd around as the two legged brought it down. As he had tipped it, spilling the crunchy earth colored bits into shiny holders. They had all rushed, pushing eachother out of the way. He seemed to frequently not provide enough of the food.. Cara remembered how she had thought it had tasted so wonderful. The days her stomach growled and went empty, she had dreamed of the blue bag. Now it seemed so insignificant, when much tastier filling food was found in the stream.
She remembered Otto growling at her.. pushing her out of the way. Come to think of it... Her mother hadn't even tried to make it fair. Some days she had gone without any food at all, for her childrens sakes.. The more time Cara spent out here, and even after the little time she'd spent with Fly, the more wrong everything she used to know seemed to become.
It had never felt so strange before... the memories.. Never had the thought of the two leggeds feeding them the crunchies seem so odd.
Finally, she was finished. And right on time to hear Fly mention teaching her to catch her own fish. "Oh, yes! Yes yes yes please! Oh please Fly, I would like that v-very very m-much!" Her stomach gave a monsterous growl, and almost instantly she calmed down about ten notches. If her skin could be seen beneath her short pelt, Fly might have seen the color drain from it as she winced. Perhaps the change in food was too dramatic, or she had eaten too fast? Cara flopped on her side, rolling in discomfort with a dramatic whine. "oh..... ooohhhhh.... my tummy... whats happening... oohhhhhh" she sighed, obviously it wasn't anything serious. All the thoughts and sounds, the smells and now her stomachs complaining, she had forgotten her wariness of Tynan. In her discomfort, she at least seemed a little less spooked.
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Post by Starrlight on Jun 25, 2010 11:38:03 GMT -5
Tynan grinned at her comebacks. How he had missed this banter, the baiting and debating, in his weeks of lone travel! He looked at the pup once more, glad to see that she seemed to have relaxed after he had moved off. He remembered his first few days outside the city... it was nowhere near the disorientation this poor child had felt, being a former house dog, but still, he could sympathize. To go from the city, where there is always food when you know where to look, to these wilds, where each meal must be fought for and killed, was enough of a challenge, even for a fully grown dog. For a pup, it must be horribly confusing. However, Tynan could envy her on another scale.... she would grow up out here. She wouldn't have to try to adjust, time and instincts would teach her so much more easily than those older. And she would be accepted. Ty wasn't so sure about himself. Not that he'd let anyone else know that he had doubts, of course. He did have appearances to uphold and a very pretty she-wolf to piss off, after all.
"I suppose she may. Only time will tell. A shame and a waste, though, if that were true." He looked at Fly. "I'm sure you don't, but perhaps you should try sometime to enjoy the company of another. It can be a truly life-changing experience." He winked. "I'm always open to teaching, if you are interested. I don't think you will find my experience lacking." He grinned. "And feel free! Cougars... I highly doubt their reception would be any more fierce than the one I have received here! I give you props for that, ma'am. Your Virgilius would be proud. I bet you have sent many a newcomer running in terror. Too bad I'm not so easily dissuaded."
"I'm sure he knows your reasons. After all, he's the one who has had to live with you for..... however long you've been here. And you aren't that hard to read." He gave a cocky smile, stepping closer to her. "But I bet, somewhere in there, is a hidden sweet side." He looked her in the eye, then broke away, chuckling. "Keep it hidden, love. This side of you is just too dam.n much fun!"
Her terse response to his names came as no surprise, though really, that had only been slightly for her annoyance. That was just the way he spoke. "Alright, Fly. Point taken, touche and all that. I'm sure your Alpha is just dying to meet me, but honestly, I have no idea what I'm walking into. At least when I'm with you, someone might think twice before tearing me apart." He smiled sweetly, knowing full well that, by this point, that was most likely just the thought she had in mind. Her expression said it all, but he ignored it. "After all, as I said before, all of you wolves and your ways are kinda a new area to me. Where I come from, newcomers aren't greeted too well. Oh wait... perhaps we aren't so different after all."
It had been nice to hear her laugh, a surprise response that he had definitely not expected. "Cruel, eh? A lovely thing such as yourself, cruel? I'd believe it." He paced a ways away, sitting down in his former spot. In truth, he was growing more hungry by the minute, so her mention of food was a very welcome topic switch indeed. "Ah, I was wondering when we would get on that subject. And sweetheart, I'll have you know, hunting my be hard where she comes from, but where I come from, it's a different story." An unreadable expression crossed his features, but was gone in an instant. Oh, he had hunted alright. Perhaps not in the way she was speaking of right now, but the principles were the same. Track, find, kill. He wasn't always this... charming.
Fishing was something he had done before, though, so it was a relief he would not make a complete idiot of himself. Those first few days, when quicker, larger prey had escaped him, he had stumbled upon a pond, and spent hours staring at the fish, learning the mystery behind catching the slippery buggers. By the time he left, he was adept, if not spectacular. Lifting himself once more, he followed Fly, anticipating the meal.
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Taboo
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Post by Taboo on Jul 19, 2010 16:11:37 GMT -5
Legendary for the assuming lack of pride and dignity that ever so subtly weaved with depravity, Dorian besieged many with his apparently nonexistant emotional couture. He could not be abashed, ashamed, or roused to anger easily. But the cloak of transparancy he donned in Cthonia carried a sting long and sharp enough to pierce the thin, flexible fabric. Though wanting to escape the past of lavished atrocities that made him King, the replacement for a low mongrel spoiled happy tidings on his tongue. After Avendesora parted slightly only to have Virgil glide towards them did auds flicker restlessly, lowering against a lowered crown before perking up again. The sand dusted hessian sidled a glance towards the 'exalted' heir. The term of exaltation being ignored and tossed as much as he was. At this point, Dorian could do more than just sympathize with Cleitus, he could empathize. He realized that the younger wolf lived this shadow lifestyle for much longer and much more flauntingly then his. A smoldering ashened look foiled in those opposite gems but smoothed over when Virgil came close enough to address all three.
He had been listening only half-heartedly to the new maiden's dispassionate story....barely glazing over the rendering turmoil she sought to cover. Not that his attention mattered so he only behaved as he felt treated. She was at the top of her game and fell to only to be born again. A grin divined with bitter trophies to irony curled and dried at the ends of his blunt muzzle. She had seen one of the greatest events in the cycle of life that happens to all: the ending of an civilization.
"Fantasy will be mourned..." he stated softly and most to himself. The sentence pressed into a dying heart that sped its death, but preserved it nonetheless.
Sapphire and emerald fires wandered over to the new gent self-consciously plaiting ash and dirt upon his fair coat. Dorian jumped to attention immediately in surprise and stepped back. He saw that similiar lack of shimmer in his stare albeit it was not directed at him. He carried a secret, and he was here for more than just placement. At this moment his mind ceased to concern any more strangers. His paranoia and accumulating stimulation for notoriety pressed him to choose a less polite stance, but if he was to remain 'pure' and good like he wanted, Dorian had to sacrifice the eloquent image.
Broad receptors captured Cleitus' mutterings before Virgil could even possibly hear and nodded only because it was too late to respond. It proved to be perfect timing, however, as the contriction in the teenage visage indicated his pride was too wounded to be touched upon at the moment. So he left him to wade through troubled waters as he became advocator at the moment. Before he spoke, the same energized, high-pitched voice greeted him in a way that drove a huge grin on his maw.
"Hello, Baby. Looks like you found some friends to play with." Softened orbs looked over at the fleshy pup and shook his cranium somewhat in amusement. He raised his gaze over to the King and newcomer. "And hello Virgil and Courajess. Cleitus and I were just planning on a bonding hunt for the two of us. I am not strongly suited for large company, and I was hoping he could at least show me territory and prey until I can get used to it." Words stumbled uneasily out of his mouth. Too many wolves were nearby, and he was never great at orating. At least it was the truth that spilled out instead of the typical poisonous lies.
Cleitus mentioned a black doe and Dorian nodded in eager agreement. At this point, he didn't care if they chased mice, as long as they escaped the agoraphobic claws of so many wolves. "I don't need large sport to constantly test my masculinity. A doe would be very suitable." His paws began digging at the ground unconfortably, leaving soft imprints in the fertile earth.
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Emmy
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Post by Emmy on Aug 6, 2010 6:40:22 GMT -5
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Avendesora Mahdi Al Ellisande There are those that remain behind ...
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[/i][/right] Novus Vita is burning. Lacrimosa is burning. Edenost is burning. Kamen Reka is burning. Leere Seelen is burning. Fantasy was dying. Before her eyes, Avendesora's home was falling to ash. She was only abstractly aware of the dangerous splintering and tumbling of the trees surrounding her, and the roar of the flames was muted by the roaring of the blood in her ears. How can my blood still be flowing, she thought, when my heart has stopped? The air was so thick it was almost sticky. It settled on her heavily, pushing through her fur in rancid waves, coating her with its corruption. She could almost taste it on her tongue, that filth. The Queen's stomach heaved violently at the all-pervading stench of burning fur and flesh and the smoke that crawled through her nose; her lungs were clogged with it and she couldn't breathe, except she was breathing, because the stench just intensified with each terrible inhalation. Each breath of air curled around inside of her, choking and insidious. It was in her eyes and her lungs and her fur, seeping into her like poison. She had found Zacchio, or what was left of her son ( just strips of flesh and fur and charred bones and empty eyes). He was there. Her baby boy. Her sick, weak, pale, beautiful boy was there. And he burned alone. I love you. I'm sorry. I love you. Why didn't he run? Why? He could have gotten out. Zakai ran, why didn't he? Zacchio. My baby. I love you. I'm sorry. Why didn't you run? Nausea bends her double and she vomits, retching so hard she can't stand. Crouching over the body of her dead son she heaves and gasps and chokes, as if everything inside her has to come up, come up now, as if she is bringing up her stomach, her lungs, her heart. It seems to her that what she is expelling from her body is the water-drowned body of her sister, every single hope she'd dared to have, all of Djevik's anger and hate, Amrita and her fears, every conversation she'd ever had with Ringwe, the bodies of her children, every moment since she took the title Queen, the Wastelands, her name ... When she can breathe again, and manages to push herself up straight, she feels an absence inside her, a deep cold hollowness, but she realizes that everything she thought she'd purged is still there, inside her, lodged there in the darkness. Whatever it is that is gone now, this emptiness inside of her, it is not those memories. It is something else, something she will no longer be able to name. Peace. Happiness. Herself. It's all gone, everything ripped away from her by impossible circumstances; her home, her love, her people, her family. There's nothing left. And she stands there, watching, as everything she has come to love dies, the flames thrashing and devouring, with only one word pressing to the front of her mind: why? why? why.why.whywhywhy? She never notices the tears streaming down her face. x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x There was fire here in the lands of Cthonia, too; burning red in the distance, the sky hazy with heat and smoke. It makes her feel sick, a nervous fluttering in her stomach, and is only getting worse as the seconds tick by. Fear builds up in her mind and it crawls under her skin and she just wants to run, to get as far away form here as possible, but she holds herself still against the muted terror lodged in her throat. Standing beneath the sun, she makes her self close her eyes. The darkness behind her eyelids is burnt orange. Fear is unwelcome in its growing familiarity: she knows she must let it burn through her, as fast or as slow as it pleases. She must let it lick against her insides, must let it fill her lungs until she chokes. There is no fighting fear, Avendesora has learned; there is only the breaths you take until it passes. Let me out. Please, just let me out. It feels like she's been saying those words all her life. And then, it is gone; the fear, filling her from her toes to her chin, wisps away in its own smoke. She opens her eyes, breathes deep the salt-laden air, focuses on the wolves surrounding her and tries to remember herself alive. When the silver-hued brute -- Dorian, her mind supplies -- begins to speak, Avendesora slides her gaze towards him and observes him quietly. She hadn't meant to ignore him earlier, but she couldn't come up with anything worth saying and had chosen to simply ignore his presence in the least-offensive manner possible. It didn't seem to have mattered, however, for he appeared to have taken a similar approach to her own. He acknowledged she was there, but simply turned to Cleitus and discluded her from the conversation entirely. There was a faint, niggling annoyance, but she discarded to emotion quickly and waited for the ebon-hued brute to end their conversation as he liked. " I will wait," she repeats as Cleitus speaks again of Virgil. She finds herself curious when he shares his opinions on his King, and his sudden shame, but says nothing of it because his attention is on the wolf beside him and the words, she knows, are not meant for her. She flinches when Dorian finally speaks to her plight. " Fantasy will be mourned," he says, and she wants to hiss: " By whom? There's no one left to care!" but doesn't, because that is as untrue as it is unfair. Digging her front paws into the sand where she sat, she let the familiar heat of it soothe her frayed nerves as she sought to regain her control. Breathing slowly, counting each wave as it crashed up on the shore, she listened to the gulls on the wind. " Hail, maiden!" The voice carried from a distance behind Cleitus and Dorian and her attention quickly focused on the three figures coming towards them. For a long, breathless moment, she thinks she sees her lost lover approaching, but it is not Ringwe, she knows, and the image dissolves away just as quickly as it had come and is replaced by the features of the King. She forced herself to ignore the grief she can't control and turns her attention to the two following him. A brute with an ivory coat turned gray with ash, a strong man it appears, with green eyes that remind her of Djevik. The comparisons she keeps making are unfavorable and unkind, but she is unable to stop herself. Baby, she remembers easily and fondly, and she forces the tense line of her shoulders to relax. Courajess, she is able to discern from Baby's babbling to Dorian and Cleitus about the brute she'd come with, and Avendesora files the name away easily. The King introduced himself and she returns her gaze to him. Avendesora is quiet as she observes him, taking her time in categorizing the brute, blue eyes glimmering, like glass and lightning. She had not missed how his smile faded as he moved closer, did not miss the change in his bearing, comfort sliding easily into formality. Noble born, she guessed, sliding her gaze along his form, pausing at his eyes; gold like the sun. " Greetings, Vergilius Patroklos," Avendesora finally says when she knows the silence between them has gone on too long. " I am sure Cleitus has done nothing less than what has been expected of him," she added with a tilt of her head. She pauses when the ebon prince and Dorian bound away, watching them as they drifted from view, but returning her attentions once again to the King. " My name is Avendesora Mahdi," she said, knowing she couldn't very well drop her middle title after she'd already introduced herself as such to Cleitus and Dorian beforehand. " Just Avendesora will do." Faceless. Nameless. A ghost of the past.She bites the inside of her cheek and glares down at her paws, buried beneath the pale sands of the shore. " I've come alone, with no desire but to rest and, perhaps, stay a while," she says quietly over the sound of the waves, repeating an abridged version of the words she'd offered earlier. It is so sad, the past. Too sad ... ... so I will not speak of it. [/right][/i][/size] Word Count;; 1386. Comments;; It's late and it's horrible and I'm sorry. Lol. This isn't the original post I had, but when my computer crashed ... well, you know. I also had to leave this one part-done when I left for work, so when I returned to it I was unfortunately disengaged from writing. Next time it will hopefully be better. [/blockquote] [/color] [/size][/blockquote] [/color][/td][/tr][/table][/center]
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