[M] Ready aim fire

AW!

POSTED: Fri Jun 16, 2017 10:10 pm

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.

Secui | Day | June | AT Borders
Looking for fast replies!
Word Count → 759

A pair of canines walked along Anathema’s border.

A peculiar thing walked in front. She was the size of a normal wolf, but it was her legs that made up her height. She was scrawny, despite the short scruffy mane and her hand-paws marking her as a Secui. She didn't have the muscle or fur that would be associated with the halfling form. She had long ears that stood high on her head. Her head was narrow with a muzzle that didn't tapper. She also had a long bushy tail that almost touched the ground. Her paws were more hand-like that a normal halfling, a thumb and longer fingers that were a bit more dexterous.

Her fur was a silvery-white hue, making her seem like a piece of snow in the spring forest. Her facial features marked her as a jackal, but her fur color made her seem like anything but one. She did bear the saddle of a jackal, though it was a silvery-grey. Black hairs were sprinkled through her saddle and her short mane was black. Her tail tip was white. She had a green eye.

For once, she wasn't wearing some sort of article of clothing. The many scars that marred her body were on full display. Four puncture marks lay on her left shoulder. They were a clam pink that stood out from her snowy hues. Three small scars graced the area where her Achilles tendon was. They were older. The leg with the scars, her left one, was held up and she waked on three legs. Four fresh scars ran down the left side of her face, slashing across where her left eye used to be. It was now an empty eye socket. She wore two necklaces. A wooden pendant carved into the shape of a crescent moon and a copper moon-shaped amulet with an arrow and gem. A satchel was also on her person.

Behind her was a massive beast in Secui form. His fur was of stormy grey hues. He was built like a tank, his thick fur only exaggerating his size. He’d seen many battles, it seemed. Four scars slashed across his eye, an X-shaped scar lay on his chest, another on his side, and a peculiarly-shaped scar lay on his haunch. He had amber eyes.

Avinalora padded ahead of Stormblade, sniffing for herbs. She was a little bit quicker, especially since she was in her Secui form. She was looking for herbs and the Dasa simply joined her since he was already going to patrol the borders and if the vixen fell into another hole, he would be there to drag her out.

”Can you hurry up?” The winter wraith asked, stopping for a second to look back at the warrior lumbering along. Her tail lashed in irritation. She was always prompt and didn't like wasting time. The fox lady complemented leaving him behind.

”You should slow down.” The stormy Secui replied, his response lilted with an Irish accent. The ghostly jackal huffed in response. And then she froze, her hackles lifting and her ears fully erect. The wolfdog recognized the posture. Before he could ask what she sensed, a rustle echoed through the bushes as a pair of loners stepped out.

The first was a dark brown male with black markings and a torn ear. He was in Optime form and standing over six feet. He wore a leather jerkin and simple trousers. A sneer graced his face as he drew a knife. His blue eyes glinted in malice.

Beside the armed loner was a reddish brown male. He was in Secui form, though he wasn't as big as the Irish soldier. He was a wolfish creature and easily towered over the deer-fox. A vengeful look graced his hazel eyes and he snarled.

Before the beast could say anything, the fox-tailed female snarled as she stepped forward. ”This is Anathema’s lands!” she barked, her words ice-cold and sharp. ”Get the fuck off of Anathema you fucking bastards!” The amber-eyed hybrid would have told her she didn't need that much profanity, but this wasn't the time. He moved towards her, shielding her with his body.

”You and what army, bitch?” The halfling loner snarled. The moon-washed medic looked even more pissed. The battle-scarred beast prayed that she wouldn't do something stupid.

”We will make you pay!” The torn-eared male yelled. And then the giant launched himself at the attacker.

”Avinalora, run!” the fighter roared. The monochrome fox seemed to hesitate and then took off, the Secui male on her heels.

Last edited by Avinalora Phoenix on Fri Jul 28, 2017 11:26 am, edited 1 time in total.




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Silverfrost
Luperci
Somebody make me feel alive
The queen of a wretched design
I walk through the fire

POSTED: Mon Jul 03, 2017 12:32 pm

Word Count → 295 :: Hope this is alright. Have a Trav.

Travis paced through the woods on silent paws, the sandy-colored coyote tracking the hare that managed to escape his swords beforehand. He tracked it west, judging by the shadows. He could smell others gathering closer. Travis guessed he was nearing some pack borders, although which pack was unclear to him.

Mixed in with the scents of unfamiliar pack members were two different scents, and they were drawing near as well. Travis thought about turning back, letting whoever met them at the borders deal with them. He wasn't in Inferni anymore. He had no jurisdiction here. Even then, his legs wouldn't let him move anywhere but forward, closer to the borders and closer to danger. Travis barely managed to pull his black cloak over his body and head before he saw the confrontation.

He saw a much smaller, white, scarred canine, barking at the intruders and using words that Travis himself only used when he was drunk. He also saw a large canine, much larger than a normal wolf, who was also covered in pink scars. These two must've been through a lot, he thought. As the two strangers neared the packmembers, the grey beast suddenly charged at one. Travis thought that was his window of opportunity and jumped into view as well, unsheathing his swords and taking the two by surprise. The coyote man briefly saw the two from before escape deeper into the woods before he slashed at the stranger in Optime form.

"You know, I really don't think it was such a smart idea coming to a pack's borders to settle a grudge," he stared as he attacked the loner. At least, he thought they had a grudge, judging by the words spoken to the white canine.

POSTED: Sun Aug 06, 2017 9:41 pm

Anathema was not a holy land for the devote and their saints to bask in the warm glow of God's sweet embrace. No, the land was filled with the crooked, the damaged, the broken, and the forgotten. All who dwelled within the borders were sheep who had been left behind by the flock and damned by their shepherd. Here they found a flock of their own with their fellow black sheep. It was far from perfect but it was the only place they could, in fact, call home. Many of the beasts that prowled beyond the fence sought to feast on the flock, but what they fail to anticipate is a wolf among the sheep. A behemoth prowled the forests within the land of the damned searching for any vermin that dare drag their diseased bellies into his home.

In his right hand at the ready was his first iron maiden, a massive blade nearing six feet in length. What would one name such a large zweihander? Choronzon, a demon of the abyss, would aid the sin of Wrath in dispensing the rats that scurried around beyond the borders. She had been without a proper meal for some time as her master learned how to wield her sisters. For a bit, the demonic warrior believed that this patrol would provide nothing more than time for reflection. Step by step the massive male strolled between the trees with his maiden readied for the threats that appeared to be nonexistent. In a moment that illusion would be shattered.

Three unfamiliar scents had caught the attention of the behemoth, his nostrils flaring outwards with each whiff he took to confirm his senses. The sounds of a struggle urged the man to hurry his pace, within a moment he came across a disgusting sight. A parasitic halfling digging his filthy claws into the hallowed grounds, his loathsome jaws snapping and craving the flesh of the frail Avinalora.Wrath snarled as he launched himself towards the pest, his sword readied to pierce into the smaller man's torso. Claws would begin to dig into the other's flesh as the pair would tumble to the earth with the maiden's blade firmly embedded into the other's torso.

A burning gold gaze glared into the eyes of the halfling, his stern visage sent a clear message. This would be the trespasser's final moment.

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John William Frost
Bound by blood, never alone.

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