W.rath
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[M:50]
...does the toilet paper ever run out?
Posts: 26
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Post by W.rath on Jun 12, 2011 14:51:16 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,300,true] | [bg=000000]The sun was just coming up above the trees. A cool wind flowing through the tree's, catching the leaves and the branches with it's icy grasp. The sun flowed up like a shimmering ball of fire, which it was if you wanted to get intellectual. Thick, fluffy clouds rolled through the sky, a pink hue at the edges because of the glorious sunrise. The sky was a rich pale cerulean blue, with violet red hightlights and a tangereen orange that swirled through like cotton candy. The forest trees stood tall, branches filled with multi-colored leaves. The branches were spread out, some bare as their leaves slowly fell one by one. Leaves dotted the ground, different hues of red, orange and yellow of autumn. Birds awakened from their slumber, wings fluttering as they checked their feathers. Many begin to sing a morning song, flapping their wings and flighing through the sky. A deer shook her brown pelt, climbing to her feet as she readied for another day of searching for food. Her fawn got to his feet as well, clinging to his mother's side. The doe smiled slightly and began to pick her way through the forest, pressing soft footsteps in the wet grass. The fawn keeping up on thin, gangly pillars. A fox moved silently, paws leaving nay a mark on the terrain as it tracked a hare across the field. The hare suddenly stiffened, then bolted as it senses the red fox. The vulpes went after it, quick on it's paws. Within moments, the rabbit was in it's jowls, lying limp from a crack in it's neck. A quick death to the hare, thakfully. Life and death was the cycle of the world.
Now, the forest was filled with music notes. A stream cutting through the forest, giving a soft trickling background to the singing birds. The silvery white water lapping at a pebbled shore dotted with slick mud and dew. The stream dumped into a medium-sized pond, which stood clear and still that morning, close to the Moonlit Meadows. The water reflected the colors of the sky, so it was a cerulean blue with pink and tangereen. A small rocky waterfall bubbled to the east, more of a stream rolling down and around large rocks that dotted a side of a small rise, the water flowing softly down into the silver pond. It was not as large as many of it's breathen, but it held its beauty none the less. The silent lapping of the water against the shore was peaceful, giving a sense of security to those around it. A moose stood at one end, standing in the shallow waters, muzzle buried deep as it gulped the cold water down it's parched throat. A grunt escaped it's maw as the crown lifted, water pebbling on a black lip like a diamond. Shaking thick antlers, the moose turned and ambled back into the forest. A cold wind flowed across the pond, sending puffs of the leaves to fall lightly upon the surface. They drifted slowly, floating across the silvery liquid. Everything was so beautfiul, so in peace and in harmony. The music a sweet lullaby to any creature who heard it without disrupting the silence.
Then, to add variety to the birds, the wind, the doe, the fox, and every other part of the wildlife, a howl broke through. The music flowed softly, touching auds with its softness. With it's melodic tune that sang of sadness, of a bitter loneliness that none could quench. A need for a companion, for someone to make the lupine smile once more. A call for someone to keep them from vanishing into the empty nothiness of darkness. The lyrical howl slipped through the sky, through the very heart of the forest, beckoning, calling with every fiber of it's being. The animals froze, taking in every syllable, hoping that this lupine could find the one who would heal it's heart and hold back the consuming darkness. The howl spoke so many things...asked for some many things but also, it showed the fragility of the owner who sang such a sweet lullaby. As the song drifted away, the birds opend their beaks, a let a sweet melody escape. The sang as though complimenting the lone lupine who had breathed to life such a heart - pulling howl that would forever bury itself in the memory of who listened to it's tune. The birds song ended after a few beats, and the forest breathed once more. Most of the mammals that had frozen during the song, now walked forth with a easier lope. The song had touched something inside their beating heart, and taken away the worry of this autumn day.
A soft snap came from the abyss of shadow beside the meadows northern point. A figure edging herself away from the inky blackness that would consume her mortal soul. The lupine was a petite thing, no more then thirty-six inches in height, and a hundred and two pounds. A small crown was lifted high, the bones that made up the cranium thin and finely shaped. Tear - shaped auds flicked forth slightly, rounded slightly to catch the slightest of music that the forest birthed with each passing breath. Thick, ashen black lashes curled slightly, framing orbs shaped like a half moon. The color of the orb was the palest of blue. A slim muzzle was cast to the terrain, black nostrils flared slightly as the scents of the wild came through and matched themselves with what knowledge her brain knew. Jowls parted slightly, black lips pulling back to show curved ivories. Each was long by its own right, sharp and the color of the finest opal white. A pink tongue sliding out sightly, passing canines to taste snowflakes falling down. The fine crown connected to a arched neck, muscles slim but woven tight under the light sprinkle of hair. A small chest pulsed with each breath and the pulse of her beating organ. Bodice was slim, with a rounded barrel covered by flesh to show she had been eating the amount of meat to keep her petite form functioning. A fluffy plume curled at the tip, brushing against pillars and terrain as she moved. Now, her movement was of fluid grace, pillars long and thin, with slight paws of mini saucers, with sharp little daggers that sank into the terrain. A pelt of the deepest onyx with barest flickers of silver. The lupine would have been of marbel perfection on the outside of her being, had not she been so scared. Many lined her form, easy to see upon her pelt. Yet the worse was a scar that rounded across her crown, making others flinch and look away. Because of this, in the depths of her beating heart and thinking mind, was the tortured being of someone long forgotten by all.
Now, the petite beast glided forth with the slightest hesitation. The delicate auds listening to the harmony of the forest, but waiting patiently for the sound of a predator that would swoop from the darkness to sink it's clutches in her form, and drag her unwilling body into a dark abyss. Her breath came quickly then, hiding back a low moan that would have escaped. Lungs burned from the icy wind that threatened to burn a hole through the organs. A shudder wracked the femmoras form, her thoughts getting ahead of her and causing her form to react without her knowledge. Nostrils flared slightly, no threatening scent reaching the intellictual part of her brain that activated when danger approached. A soft, melodic sigh escaped opened jowls to form a crystalline mist that left beaded drops upon her lips. Her orbs lightened slightly, the stress of doom that sometimes came vanishing as swiftly as that of a rushing rapid. A slight curl on a bottom lip left a smile upon delicate features that now showed no distress or sorrow so profound. The face of the femmora showed vulnerability, but the expression of a lupine who was finally free of the shackles of the world and it's cunning ability to bring you down. Pure joy. Pure simplicity. Those were the emotions showing brightly from her pale orbs.
Halting, the femmora stopped before the meadows small pond. Her crown lowered slightly, jowls parting and tongue slipping out to taste the silver liquid. A shudder wracked her form from the sweet, pure coldness of the liquid as it wet her dry tongue and lips, then slowly slid down a parched throat to burn a icy path to her empty stomach. The water rippled with every silent lap of the tongue, and the warm breath that fell upon it's surface. Hesitantly, the lupine lifted her crown, liquid silver beading upon black lips. Her orbs searched the meadow with a burning insenity of one often pursued by hunters. When nothing came out the waning darkness or silvery blue grass, did the femmora step back and look around. She spotted a small oval shaped rock and trotted to it. Her paws pulling her light mass upon the cold stone, daggers clicking slightly as she moved forth. The wind tussled its fingers in her pelt, causing her to shudder. A sigh escaped the slim jowls, as the figure laid down, her warm flesh laying upon the silvery opal rock. Her crown lowered, bodice curling into the slim shape of a crescent moon. The plume dropped it's tip upon her nose, and with a sigh of pleasure, the orbs closed as she soaked in the natural peace.
Only when she heard the sound of approaching footsteps did she lift her crown. She peered out at the meadow, then at the pond behind her. Her auds twitched as she tried to sense where the figure was approaching from. Who is there? she asked.
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Post by §ilent on Jun 12, 2011 16:34:56 GMT -5
Quite far from home, aren't you, dear trickster. The vulpine like wolf jumped, lurching forward a good few paces before coming to a halt, a low whine in his throat. His tail was tucked between his legs, ears lowered. It was only the wind through the trees, he assured himself, forcing his body straight again, shaking himself vigorously and releasing his tucked in tail. His sides contracted as he heaved a heavy sigh, closing his eyes, such a light, pale blue in colour. Be it voices in his head, or the wind in the trees, the words were ever so true. He was awfully far from home. He suddenly lowered himself to the ground, and heaved another heavy sigh. He knew why he was out here, and it irked him, but hurt his heart more than anything. His pack hated him- well, a lot of them did, but did he really deserve this cruelty? He mused over the prior night.
Hunting? He loved hunting! Although, it was difficult for him, due to his poor eyesight, and the pack never allowed it. Once or twice they had tried to teach him, but he could never run like the other's, or stalk, or avoid running into things that would give him away. The two times he recalled hunting with them had ended disastrously. The first time, he had careened into a river, and one of the subordinates had to fish him out. The second time, he barreled after the prey, so certain he would get it, so certain he was on it's trail, he stopped paying any attention, and the rump he ended up sinking his teeth into was a male wolf around his age, a male wolf that then had no problem whatsoever attacking Loki for his mistake- and then having to be rescued from that situation as well. Since then, hunting was a no-no for him... and knowing that, when last night, one of the males he had grown up with, always teasing him at that, asked him to go hunting with them, Loki jumped at the chance. He knew the moment they left Ignavus territory and entered the loner lands, but he simply thought, with Winter on the way, maybe they had to travel farther to find food. But alas, there wasn't a speck of prey he could scent out. Turning to speak to the other's, who had gone oddly quiet,he realized something. He was alone. Knowing he was too blind to notice, they had led him to the middle of nowhere as some sick joke, and abandoned him. All through the night, Loki wandered, determined to find his way back using their scent trail- but soon a light rain picked up, and washed away the scent.
Loki opened his cloudy blue eyes again, all around him, the world was dim, everything composed off fuzzy, illegible shapes and dull colours. The watery, pale light he could see, the dew beneath his paws, and the crisp air alerted him to it being morning. His paws ached, and he felt leaden, but that wasn't all- he felt utterly alone. Being blind and the runt had made him worse than an omega. At least the pack didn't drag the omega's into the wild and hope they would never return. Just Loki. Immediately he shook himself again. Negative thoughts would never help the situation! He closed his eyes and took a deep breath of the crisp autumn air. It was a beautiful day! And he couldn't be that far from home. Who knows, if he could avoid the carrion stench of Regnum de Mors, and maybe run into Imperium Magnum, one of their wolves could lead him home. It lightened his heart, and his rust coloured body, and once again he rose to his long, gangly black legs, trotting on again with more confidence than before.
The sun was slowly creeping up, warming his back, and keeping his thoughts light. Occasionally, he would hear the call of a bird, scent a doe, or feel a gentle leaf fall from his branch and rest on his back, which he would then shake off. For a moment, his heart ached. Times like this, he wished he wasn't blind, so he could see, and enjoy the wonderful day. Like everything else that got him down, he forced positive thoughts into it. It wasn't so bad, being mostly blind, it made his scent, and hearing so much better without perfect eyesight- and he could still see general colours and shapes. Using that superb hearing, he flicked his tall ears forward, pausing in his steps. Gently ahead, he could hear water lapping at the earth. Water. Exactly what he needed at this point! Changing his course, he started toward it, but not far before he heard a slight rustle of fur, and a tentative voice calling out to the intruding stranger. Oh, that stranger was him. Oops. He himself paused for a second, going deathly silent, but always one to try to make a good impression, try to make friends- despite the fact most of the friends he tried to make, tried to harm him, or hurt his feelings, he brightened up, held himself with what dignity he had, and padded out of hiding, his sightless eyes settling on a patch of colour with a shape that didn't belong to the natural scenery- another wolf out here, and by scent, a she-wolf. "Oh, hello there."He spoke coolly, stopping a few feet from her, "I didn't mean to disturb you, I didn't quite see you here."
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W.rath
New Member
[M:50]
...does the toilet paper ever run out?
Posts: 26
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Post by W.rath on Jun 13, 2011 16:26:45 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,300,true] | [bg=000000]The black femmoras auds twitched as she searched for the stranger that was around. Her nostrils flared, but the wind was against her this time. Her banner swung from side to side, orbs searching with a deep intensity for the lupine or creature that was closing in on her position in the rock. She did not panic, but searched with a calm serenity that was foreign to her. Most of the time she would have panicked and run, but something inside her told her that it would be ok. That whoever was there would not hurt her nor would it kill her. She would be safe if she stayed were she was and greeted the creature that was approaching. That was getting closer and closer to her as the time ticked by. She let anticipation flow through her veins and a smile play upon her jowls as her orbs searched for a endless moment. Adrenaline pounded through the blood that rushed through her form, making her muscles tense and pillars lock as she waited for her visitor to appear.
Her orbs landed upon a shadowy figure that was approaching the water. A frown appeared on her brown that realization made it apparent on her face. The lupine, for that what it was, had not noticed her. The wind was blowing their scents away from each other and the lupine must not have scented or seen her lying against the large rock. Even though it made her wonder how the lupine could not have seen her. Her pelt was the deepest of onyx, almost with a purple sheen and the rock was a deep opal like newly fallen snow. Her crown cocked as she watched the brute who was larger then she as he moved closer to the water. Her nostrils flared trying in vain to catch his elusive scent. A sigh of annoyance escaped her lips to echo in her auds as she got to her paws, shaking her pelt and flicking her banner to and fro. She did not want to appear threatening to the brute but she would keep herself on the rock to give her a little bit in the height department. She was not large, medium sized in height, so she always tried to find a place to gain advantage in height so that a brute or femmora did not look down at her. She hated being looked down upon, and was glad she had this advantage.
She watched with calculating pale blue orbs as he stopped. She smiled softly to herself because he had heard her lyrics that had been spoken softly. She watched him approach her, and the smile widened softly. He was trying not to scare her and this made her heart soften in gratitude. After the attack by four brutes she had never trusted males again. But he was acting in a friendly manner and was not at all like the four brute who had ripped into her pelt. She could still remember ivories sinking into her flesh, tearing at her and forcing her to do things....She shuddered from the memories and ignored the bitterness that ran through her soul. She sometimes wondered why they had attacked her. She had been a defenseless loner who had done nothing to deserve their unprovoked attack. It had been a winter day, and they had appeared out of no where to sink ivories and other...things into her body. It was painful and she wondered what had attracted them to her in the first place. Sadness filled her orbs but she shook it away and waited for the brute to approach closer.
When he stopped mere feet from her, she listened to him speak. Her crown tilted slightly as she sniffed the air and finally got his scent. The musky scent of male and the richness that was his own sank into her senses and something clicked. He was part of the pack she had left not long ago! She wondered why he was out here alone, when she noticed something. Stepping forth, she took in what she was learning. The brute was blind, or close to it. He was disfigured like she was! She would not judge the brute but that might be the reason why he was here and had not noticed her. Her warmed, she spoke again to answer himIt is alright, you did not disturb me at all. her lyrics were soft and filled with truth. I am Azkadellia. What is your calling? she questioned, dipping her cranium slightly in respect to the brute.
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Post by §ilent on Jun 13, 2011 17:10:09 GMT -5
Keeping himself relaxed, Loki was all too aware of the feeling of eyes burning into his pelt, examining him, but it didn't bother him much. Just the fact she hadn't yet spat an insult at him was heartwarming, and it gave him hope. After obviously finishing her examination, he heard her respond, seeming to be entirely at ease. He felt a surge of happiness that he hadn't scared her, that she obviously didn't mind being sneaked up on like that- and best of all, she didn't tease him, or try to drive him away, despite his obvious blindness. It was rare for any wolf to treat him as an equal, let alone truly try to speak with him. Her voice was so formal, it sent amusement to his brain. He was her total opposite in that way! His tail wagged and he sat down on his haunches, a somewhat awkward movement and position with his long legs, so that his back was a bit curved to accommodate the long legs- it also cause his back legs to cock to the side and splay out next to him. He gave her a lopsided grin, looking straight at her, even if he couldn't see her.
It was rather disappointing for him. A wolf, a she-wolf nonetheless, who was giving him the time of day, and he couldn't even see what she looked like! Although, being blind his entire life, Loki never judged anyone by looks, obviously, and it had taught him that even if he could see, he couldn't care less. A friend was a friend, and as corny as it was, he did know it was what was inside that mattered, no matter who the wolf. Trying his best to make out generalities, he saw a small shape of the she-wolf, smaller than most he knew, and colour wise, her frame was obviously very, very dark in colour, like a speck of night that even the rising sun couldn't burn away- otherwise, he couldn't make out much. He couldn't make out head or tail of her, just a small black, vague shape in front of him in a dim world. It could be frustrating at times, but born and raised with his disability, he was more than used to it.
His cheesy grin never fading, he nodded his head. "Azkadellia. Very pretty name, for a pretty lady." He lifted his head higher, a knowing look crossing his face before she could say anything. "I may be blind, but I'm blind to all but a kind personality, and that is a beautiful thing." Whenever he made comments, such as something being pretty, or any visual thing, he normally had some reason for his words, despite his blindness. For him, ugly wolves were those ungodly cruel, and so on. Loki wasn't flirty, he wasn't a ladies man , believing he could get any wolf he wanted- he expected no one in his life- but he believed every wolf who at least gave him a chance to say hello, to ask his name, deserved some praise. "My name's Loki of...er, Ignavus- not that anyone there would admit to having me around." He chuckled, shaking his head, trying to ignore the fact that his own pack had just tried to abandon him. That wasn't something people tried to openly flaunt. "Hi there! My pack doesn't want me! And how are you this fine day? Oh bother.
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W.rath
New Member
[M:50]
...does the toilet paper ever run out?
Posts: 26
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Post by W.rath on Jun 18, 2011 15:55:39 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,300,true] | [bg=000000]The black femmora watched the brute, relaxed and easy. She did not sense any threat coming from the larger brute. He seemed good enough, not willing to tear her into shreds like her attacker had done. Her orbs flicked over his form, taking in the relaxed form of himself. She was glad that he was not one of those brutes who were always tense, mostly to show off bulging muscles while some did it because they couldn't trust you and were suspicious of you. Azkadellia was medium-sized femmora and scarred horribly, so who would fear her? She might have survived the battle but it had left her shattered. She was a warrior, but no match for a brute. If she fought one, she would be torn to shreds. Her muscles would lock up, and body freeze as memories assaulted her senses and blinded her from battle. A battle against a brute could prove fatal to the femmora so she tended to keep away from the opposite sex. It was quiet sad that she was afraid of males, but who would not when you were disfigured by one in a unprovoked attack? Yeah, I thought so.
Azkadellia watched as he wagged his banner like a puppy would. A smile played upon her lips as he sat down in a awkard movement. He was very different from the usual male lupines she spotted from afar, courting some poor, yet eager, femmora. She wanted to giggle at his lopsided grin, but she swallowed it and kept it from leaving her jowls. It wouldn't be polite if she laughed at her maybe friend. Also she didn't know him enough to know if the laugh would offend him or not. Some brutes were very touchy about their pride and instantly disliked any femmora who would giggle or laugh at them. So she kept her amusement in her chest, and had to snap her jowls shut, keeping them down and clamped so the musical notes didn't slip free. She couldn't hide the amusement that danced in her orbs, or caused the blue to glow with a deep warmth. It was a natural reaction for this femmora when she laughed....which was rare now a days.
Azzy watched him as he peered at her. She felt some sadness that the brute could not truly see her form, or the gentleness in her features that was saying quite clearly that she would never judge him for being half blind. Alas, she also felt happiness and that made her angry at herself. Why should she be happy that he was blind? Many lupines would tease and even act cruel to the brute because he wasn't perfect. They would treat him like a plague, as they had done herself. The evil happiness came because he wouldn't codemn her for her scars, but why should she be happy? Her scars were nothing compared to a harsh dulling of one of the lupines important senses. Shamed, she called herself ever foul calling that she could come up with for feeling joy for someone elses disfiguration.
Azkadellia turned her gaze back to the brute when he spoke. Her auds pricked, and she felt heat warmher face as he called her a pretty lady. Thank you for the compliment. You yourself are handsome. Tis would not be good to call you pretty, because I wouldn't dare to hurt your male sensibilities she teases, her tone light and full of surpressed amusement. Not insulting in the least was she being, just trying to act playful. When he spoke again, her happiness dimmed slightly and she spoke once more I won't condemn you for your blindess, for alas I am scarred horribly. I am ugly to many beasts, and though it is wrong, I felt some gratitude that my unseemly appearence won't stain your gaze. Her lyrics were soft, and filled with old sorrow and pain from many insults sent her way. She let the pain run it's course before tossing it away and meeting the brutes milky orbs. When he gave her his calling, a half smile played upon her lips It is a pleasure to make your aquantince, Loki. If the Ignavus do not see your worth, then they are not worthy of your prescence she said softly, standing up to move a few paces forward, brushing her maw against his own before stepping back and sitting down once more.
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Post by §ilent on Jun 21, 2011 10:10:42 GMT -5
Loki listened gleefully to the lady speak, her comments warming him from the inside out. He never earned praise, so this was a treat for him, a fine, rare delicacy he knew he may never get from anyone but Azkadellia. She suddenly began to explain that she was horribly scarred, and that many saw her as being ugly for it. It appalled him- not the idea of her being a scarred creature, but that people would so hold it against her. She couldn't help it as much as he could help his blindness, and yet, they were both ostracized and unloved by their- well, Loki was unloved by his pack, but Azkadellia was a loner. She had no pack. Did she have anyone. This troubled him- of course, if she preferred being a loner, all to it, but he felt that no wolf deserved to be alone- even the murderers and sadistic rapists of the world should be put with others of their kind. He knew loneliness was never the answer. She explained that, if Ignavus didn't want him they didn't deserve him. He opened his mouth to chuckle and make a joke of it, but a dark voice lingered in his head, attacking his mental stability. No, you don't deserve them. They feed you, they take care of you, and you're still worthless to them. They should have long tossed you out, you worthless basta- He clamped his mouth shut, the voice going silent and a blush rising under his fur. Azkadellia had stepped forward, rubbing her dark muzzle against his coppery red one- he had even noticed her move. Thankfully, his blank eyes hadn't given away the fact of his mental battle.
Suddenly able to push the dark voice away fully, he gave her another trademark lopsided grin, "Aw thanks. In my opinion, no one deserved you. You're quite sweet." He punctuated this by licking his muzzle as if he had just licked clean a honeycomb, his grin then widening and his eyebrows raising in a rousing gesture, a deep chuckle forming in his chest. He knew he was corny, childish, and more than just a tiny bit dorky, but it made him who he was, and he'd never mind it. He opened his mouth to speak again, when from behind him, he heard a familiar voice. It was far away, and slowly approaching, but not at all welcome. A low whine replaced the growing laughter. "It's my brother... I'm not quite ready to go back to them. I'll only get chased off again, then dragged back. It's like a game for them, the Abandon-Loki-and-If-He's-Still-Alive-In-A-Few-Days-Bring-Him-Back-and-Repeat game." All in good nature, he smiled at her, a slightly sad look in his eyes, "I don't like the game very much, but I'm all in for good sporting." He rose to his paws and shook himself off. The sad look was gone, placed by amusement, and the mischievous look of a young trickster. "Maybe I'll play back this time. Let's play the, Lets-See-If-They-Can-Find-Loki-Game." He padded a few pawsteps in the direction away from the voice, before turning back to his new friend, [color= "Care to join me, m'lady?" He asked, giving a sorry excuse for a regal bow, the movement instead almost making him plant face-first into the ground, waiting with a curious expression on his face, waiting for a response.
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