[m] hunger-strung, hard to slake

POSTED: Wed Jan 23, 2019 9:53 am

WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

Posey woke from disturbing dreams – familiar nightmares.

Every winter, when frost blew into her shelter and tickled her nose, she dreamed of the great stretch of arctic tundra. She dreamed of her family, of her husband and her three daughters, all beautiful and as white as the snow around them. She dreamed of storms, and finding foxes and caribou dead standing up, gnawing the frozen meat from the bones. Following the ravens in search of food where the thin trees grew. Growing tired. Growing hungry.

She woke up, cold and starving, the stench of rotten meat surrounding her.

The white wolf lay there curled up in a ball, her snout pressed into her bushy tail, shaking. Her eyes were far-off, her throat bobbing as bile burned her palette. She barely felt her daughter laying beside her, their backs touching for comfort and warmth in the night, though Lyric could feel her mother trembling and lifted her head in concern.

Are you cold? Mother? she pressed, when Posey did not answer. She tried to snuggle closer, wrapping her frame around her aged parent's, but the white wolf was suddenly on her feet and scrambling out of the den to be sick.

Dawn had broken over Winterwynd, the light weak and creeping. It made the half-digested entrails glisten in the snow before Posey hurriedly lapped them up again, knowing she couldn't possibly waste calories. She needed to eat. She was still hungry.

It was a knife in her stomach. It did not feel like her own knife, but it was the same shape and size it had been back then, back in her dreams.

Not again not again not again –

[282 words]

Mistfell Vale
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Luperci With Great Distinction

POSTED: Thu Jan 24, 2019 12:57 am

WC: 525

Something weird was going on. Genevieve was not sure exactly what it could be, and at first she thought maybe it was someone playing a prank. But while she was out exploring, she thought she had heard voices, but Rupert did not hear them at all when she did. It was weird because they were quite loud, not whispers that could have been the wind or some animal rustling under the snow. No, it had quite clearly been voices talking, and one laughing.

Rupert, of course, had asked her if she was trying anything new, which she knew meant that he thought she was on some sort of drug. While she did experiment with such things from time to time, that day she was completely sober. The question was not taken kindly, and the whole situation only grew worse when it was Rupert's turn to hear the voices instead. The way his fur puffed out would have been comical if not for the fact that she was so unnerved. She did not even get to enjoy saying 'I told you so' to him, which was all kinds of disappointing since Ginny always did like getting the better of Rupert.

The whole event managed to get worse yet when they both heard the voices and at that point, they booked it home. Thankfully the voices stopped partway there and they were able to close themselves in and try to talk about everything else to avoid the subject. It was as if discussing it in their home would have drawn whatever it was in with them and neither of them were willing to take that risk.

So, their home felt safe, but that was of little comfort to someone who wanted to go exploring every day. She liked finding out where things were and committing them to memory, and it made her happy to know where things were before Rupert did since he was often such a stuffy know it all. So, despite her fear, Ginny decided that she would strike out early this morning and push on, to prove to herself that it must have been a fluke or a one-day occurrence. Of course, Ginny had no intention of going to that area of the pack lands again. No, she fully intended to go to the exact opposite end of their territory and find something interesting to see there.

This plan was put on hold when she spotted an older looking female outside a den. Ginny thought she had seen her around a bit, though she had yet to speak to her. The former Sapien took a couple of steps towards her and opened her mouth to say hello when she realized that the other female seemed to be lapping up vomit. Was she sick? It was bad when old Luperci got sick, right? Because they were old.

"Hi..." Ginny trailed off, aware that an offer of help might be taken badly. "Are you alright?" Best to start there, she thought, to see if anything was actually wrong. Maybe something she ate simply was not agreeing with her. That happened from time to time.
Mistfell Vale
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Pathfinder I They stole my dirty socks... :(

POSTED: Mon Jan 28, 2019 9:32 pm

She wolfed down the half-digested meat with quick jerks of her head, her shoulders hunched and her honey-colored eyes wandering. It was important she eat. She had to swallow what she could here and there, even the most putrid things one could find in the snow, because the alternative was unthinkable. She'd seen wolves starve to death – those faces gone gaunt, sunken eye sockets ringed with shadow, the pallor of unhealthy gums, hair falling out.

Oh she'd seen it happen to him, too, the most dutiful sacrificed everything in the end –

It scared her. It scared her so much. She need only close her eyes and she could see flashes of skinny wolves around her, the numbers slowly dwindling. Snow piling where there were no hills. Ravens alighting and crying because they lacked and knew the wolf had fangs.

A shadow fell across Posey. She instinctively whirled to snap.

Exiting their rubble den, Lyric watched in horror as her mother snarled defensively, hackles high and ears sunken against her skull, and positioned herself over the very last smears of stinking meat on the cobblestones. She barked and strode forward, trying to ensure both her aged parent and the other Mistwalker were unharmed.

When she encroached, Posey only snarled at her, too. Her hazy eyes stared through them. This was her meat, no one could take it, she couldn't afford to go without.

Hunger hunger. A hill of snow, the plaintive crows.

[246 words]

Mistfell Vale
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Luperci With Great Distinction

POSTED: Sun Feb 03, 2019 8:57 pm

Recent events weighted heavily on his mind - something that was impossible to see, impossible to track, impossible to fight was terrorizing the pack, taking the minds of his own packmates. It wasn't over yet - he knew it wasn't, as soon as he had seen Zuri in that state, although it had abated quickly, he knew it was still out there. And now it was happening again.

Posey. When he awoke, a cold thrill running through his spine from the base of his neck to his tail, he felt something was wrong. He knew it. God, why, why - he jerked to his feet, ignoring the inklings of frost and cold snapping at him, emerging from his home to taste the air and recoil. He ran.

Posey was outside of her den alright, surrounded by Genevieve and her own daughter Lyric. Instinctively, he stepped in front of Genevieve; he knew he could not sway Lyric so easily, but the darker woman didn't seem to know what may be in store. Hell, Felix didn't know - not anymore.

"Posey," he said, approaching slowly, concerned orange eyes trained on the elder. He ignored the wretched smell of bile and digested meat on the ground, the ill sound of Posey lapping up the waste as though she were ravenous, stifled his muted disgust as he tread forward on four paws.

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'Souls Assemblage
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'Souls Assemblage Luperci
now dissolve me,
two tabs on your tongue
reality doesn't change

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