His foster father had told him that when he’d dragged him out of the river his biological parents had thrown him in. And he had proved it in other ways, too, until Reagan believed it himself. It was his mantra, his fate, and he used it to justify the females that turned away from his runty, scruffy form. It ceased to make the male sad anymore, and so he’d spent much of his time in Nova Scotia simply wandering and not caring.
However, when the Boreas wolves had come passing through, the wolf had felt a stirring. He wanted to be part of them, and they’d treated him so kindly—one even gave him an extra cross. The wooden crucifix dangled between his forelegs as he trotted the last few yards to the edge of the coyote territory, where he paused and shifted into his secui form. He wasn’t the best fighter out there, but he knew enough to drive off fellow loners when they competed over a kill. And, in this form, he looked normal for a luperci rather than the thin little creature he was.
Tongue swept nervously over his lips, and he bared a chipped fang as he looked at the border stakes at the edge of the land. It was proof of all the group of wolves had preached: these coyote were wolf-killers, and evil. He could only imagine that some of the skulls hanging there were those of women or yearlings too inexperienced to be a threat. His green eyes narrowed to angry slits, and he marched onward.
The tall grasses before him swayed in the afternoon breeze, and he could see a couple of deer grazing in the distance. He paid them no mind, however, instead skulking forward into the territory and keeping an eye peeled for its inhabitants.
Reagan had planned to do this long ago. When he’d asked to stay with the Boreas wolves, wanting so much to be part of something for once, wanting to be wanted, they had politely refused him. However, their lack of interest in recruitment didn’t bother him. He just knew he’d have to prove himself before the militaristic wolves let him in. And what better way to prove himself than to kill a coyote?
Now that they were all gone (it was terrible, terrible, and the coyotes had stolen every shred of possession the wolves had), he supposed it was up to him to avenge them.
Grimacing, he hunkered in the tallest patch of grass he could find. His mottled light russet pelt almost blended in, but he’d done his best to roll in dung before he came, so that his victims wouldn’t see him coming. Unfortunately, the dung reeked more than his wolf scent had, and it was all he could do to crouch quietly while his head was pounding from the strong odor.
If you could only see the beast you’ve made of meI held it in but now it seems you’ve set it running free
Word Count → 437 :: I kind of assumed how Jacinto and Sparrow ended up together, so if you want to change it, Ess, just shoot me a PM. <3
A moon, a whole cycle had pasted since Salsola and Inferni had dispatched the Boreas wolves and their camp, and it only took that short amount of time for Sparrow to calm down and be lulled into believing that the threat was over. That she could finally settle into peace that she had sought for. There was not a single sniff of any wolf near the borders whenever she walked around them, nor did she find anyone that seemed to be swayed by the wolves’ preaches, better yet never heard a word about them. It had been quiet long enough for her to slip a mental weight that had been lying on her chest, though her reminder remained hanging around her neck in a form of a broken cross.
It was in that tentative peace did she allow herself to skip the trip to the Mansion that she usually took to gather a bow, just for that one day. The day was beautiful, still ripe with the sun hanging in the sky, and she had decided to leave the weapon with the rest of the storage, and simply relax. Soon enough, she came across another clan member, a male with a ginger mane. He, whom named himself a Jacinto Lykoi, was a friendly man, and finding his company enjoyable, she invited him to walk around the borders with her. Not to scout, or to wander the boundaries with fear in her heart for what she could met, but to simply walk around Inferni’s edges and talk.
Their conversation was easy enough, some sharing of words here and there, and it never reached an awkward point like most of Sparrow’s talks went. Sometimes they were comfortable silent, and it was in one of those pauses that she felt a stir within her. She had been looking over at the distant landscape when something seemed… off to her, but at first she could not place it and let it slide for a moment longer since she did not wanted to worry over nothing. But, it persisted, and the coywolf found her scenting the area, and smelled something pungent on the gently breeze.
She wanted to ignore it, but again her instinct told her something was wrong. Again, she gave into the worry, and slowed to a small stop, motioning for her company to do so as well. “Do you smell that?” she asked the male with a leveled tone, not allowing her rising tension to show through her voice. “I scent… something.” She tried to act as nonchalant as possible, but the slight smell was starting to bother her.
I suck, and didn't know if he would see the invader....As Jacinto also sucks at those things :o
He had woken that morning on the verge of a nightmare, visions of worlds he didn't want to see, obsessively checking on Omni to see if she was healing alright. But even with her rebel-like assurances of being alright, he still couldn't calm his nerves. Like a sharp point, the situation prodded the Lykoi man. His mate was hurt, and how could he singlehandedly care for a child? Cinto attempted his best, and Sina didn't complain. It could not be all bad. At least he was there to try. He left the Mansion that morning, carrying Omni's bow and donning a simple pair of tattered jeans. His bare chest covered by the strong string of that hardy bow. Hopefully some prey would happen by. Then he met Sparrow. She proved to be adequate company. Able to calm
the hybrid to some degree.
Jacinto had worries on his mind for a while since the attack on Omni from the dusky hybrid that he had encountered upon the borders. If he had not been there, what would have happened? Would he have a lover no longer? A dead woman in his arms? Beauty extinguished for his lifetime? How could the rusted hybrid ever look around and see the beauty again? And how--Could he raise a small child....And still be there strong? Worrying about the worst had him nervous, the chit-chat between him and the smaller coywolf by his side was becoming much more tense. But in a way calming. Omni's ribs were not healed yet. But hopefully--They could heal to the point of near prime status. He walked on four legs, his gangly body slithering through the grass quietly just as the little lady's did. Probing the borders wasn't as hard as it seemed. It was as vital as being a warrior, as vital as breathing and protecting. Cinto's voice stayed friendly, finally falling into the steady pace of kind words and easy conversation. It wasn't so bad. Sparrow wasn't bad company. Maybe, another friend within the fire realm was found. Hopefully.
His tawny feet hit the ground softly and steadily, easy and fluid. The musician missed walks like this. It seemed as if the nicer days, when the lithe male could enjoy himself, were tainted by the blasted wolves attacking their borders. Perhaps some of the clan weren't crazy. Perhaps wolves were not to be trusted, or at least just some of them. Who knew? Maybe the conflict between the canines would persist for generations to come. It had in the past.
Orange eyes took in the scenery around the coy-mixes, summer was surely coming very soon. The Lykoi was not alerted at that time, lulled by the pleasant backdrop around his russet body. But the girl stopped, yellow eyes seemingly searching the area as if something was wrong. His stomach gave a small squeeze, a rather unpleasant clench as she mentioned something. In reply, his back nose based on a thin snout lifted. Taking in a small sniff. The air was tainted with flowers and the fresh smells of the warmer season...And something else. It bothered the Lykoi prince. Something wasn't right. "Yeah." He paused, once again scenting the air. "There's something...Weird about this." The instinctual impulses prodded the hybrid to seek it out. After the experience with hunting, there certainly was something fishy with the entire set up. "Let's go check it out...It's someone, I think. Someone--Who we don't really want here." His size was a downer, barely a smidge larger than the sister to Vesper. How could he possibly be of valid defense? If the worst case scenario persisted...."I think we better stay alert Spar...This isn't right." The silken voice belonging to the musician was laced with a growl, slipping closer to Sparrow as if to protect, tawny flank close. If the worst of his fears condemned true, it could be both of them injured. Or dead. Teeth bared towards the brambles and terrain, the Lykoi called to the source of the scent, "Come out!"
He waited, and waited, and waited. The drone of curious flies was maddening, and he flashed his chipped tooth at them, swatting one of the insects with his tail. It shouldn’t be much longer. He knew that coyotes would pass by here sooner or later, and then he’d jump out and rip them up like they’d done to the Boreas wolves. The thought almost brought an anxious whine from the runty secui, and the cross grew heavy at the dip of his collarbone.
And then—voices, and scents barely discernible over his own stench, especially as his pores began to leak the acrid tang of fear. His green eyes, which clashed with his mottled ginger pelt in an ugly way, widened as his ears swiveled forward to hear them. A patrol was coming his way, and the coyotes would pass close enough to his hiding place in the vegetation to possibly detect him. He had to decide if he wanted to come out brazen and screaming, a scruffy angel of vengeance, or like the unwanted coward he was, waiting for their backs to turn. He wasn’t glad there were two, but coyotes had to be small, smaller than him even.
Reagan quivered, his tail lashing against the dry brush before he clamped it between his thighs and silenced his whimpering. He peered, hidden, through the tangled brambles to see them, two smallish luperci on a stroll. Eventually they stopped, and he wondered if they could hear his hammering heart. At first, they didn’t jump or act like something was amiss, but the tension crept over them slowly, and the lupus-formed male whirled toward them.
His challenge made the scrawny halfling start, and he realized that he’d rattled the thirsty bushes with that motion. I can’t be a coward, I can’t be a coward, I have to be like the Boreas, I have to be like them so they’d want me. Any thoughts of their corpses strewn in the Dampwoods was erased from his mind; he was a cub again, doing his best to please his critical father. Go hunt for me, Runt. No, something larger. Do you expect anyone to like you if all you can catch are mice and squirrels?
Reagan sneered silently. I’ll hunt you a coyote, father, he whispered, and then the muddy-ginger wolf burst out of the bushes, rushing toward the small coyote male with a wordless scream and aiming to crack one of his legs in his secui jaws.
If you could only see the beast you’ve made of meI held it in but now it seems you’ve set it running free
Word Count → 392 :: sorry if it wasn't clear before, but sparrow is in optime form. ^^; but, i don't think you guys have to edit anything. <3 just mentioning it.
Sparrow thought for a moment she could hear shuffling, but she reminded herself that both her and the Lykoi was probably making the noises, but she began to worry even further that something was wrong.
When she mentioned that she scented something, he too stopped and detected the same smell. She now wanted to turn back, to promptly avoid whatever it was; it was starting to disturb her, and she did not want to face it. But, before she could suggest such, the male went forward, encouraging her to follow after. She swallowed her fear, but it choked back up when he said that someone was out there, and stuck close to Jacinto as they continued forth.
After he made his challenge, she hesitated, stopping only for a moment before taking another step. But, as she moved forward, she heard the slightest of whispers, and her breath caught in her throat. When the beast flew out of the underbrush, his once quiet voice now an unclear screech, she became winded, stumbling backs and away from the targeted Lykoi.
Though she fell, she kept scrambling backwards from the snarling wolf, cloak catching on the grasses and overall slowing her down. But, she didn’t care. She needed to run, whether it was to her sister, other canines, away from Inferni, she needed to get away from the wolf. She knew he had the intentions to kill, and all her instincts screamed for her to turn and run.
The only thing that stopped her was Jacinto; she couldn’t see him clearly from her low vantage point, but Sparrow knew that she could not leave him. Her mind said to desert him and to leave him dead, just a mere something to distract the wolf so that she could run; in her mind, she was lucky that Jacinto was here to buy her some time. Her heart, her reasoning, her humanity said to help him; he was a clan mate, a friend, a living being and not an expense for her own survival.
She dug her claws into the soil, picking up dirt and even some gravel, and got to her feet as quickly as possible. Thinking that he must have been focused on the coywolf male, Sparrow attempted to grab the wolf around his neck from behind, to try to wrestle him away from Jacinto.
ooohkay. When I first replied I thought she was in lupus, then I read it again and tried to revise. I'm sorry if I forgot anything <.< also, Cinto is a durrr --STABSTABKILLKILLDIEDIEDIE :3 he attempts toooo much <.< and oh yeah, he isn't aiming to kill Re, I know that Sparrow was originally supposed to c: he's just being a durr and thinking
Word Count → 625
From bright pumpkin eyes the hybrid watched through the shock of orange hair, seemingly frozen in time time, waiting ready for his challenge to be initiated. But inside, the rusty man wan was terrified. His heart beat hard in his chest. Any moment then would there be a sign, either to tell him that the threat wasn't apparent or soon something would come crashing through the foliage. But placing his life on the line seemed right, it was for Inferni. For Omni, for Sinatrai, for the leadership and clanmates and friends, like Sparrow. And then--Everything seemed to happen in an order of events that seemed like a blur.
Out came from the bushes was a snarling fiend, jaws opened just to catch his precious limbs between the ivory death traps. If only the Lykoi had been alert for a split second, more on guard for what would happen, things wouldn't have followed in precise order. A sound filled his large brown ears, a sound of fury and vengeance. Reaching for an arrow, the hunter loaded the bow. But not quick enough. The teeth of the invader snapped upon his leg in a quick clip, leaving behind a gaping wound on his shin. The Scorpius didn't cry out, but rather quickly unleashed an arrow aiming for the wolf's throat. And as the arrow was sent flying, his orange-splashed head turned as another event caught his eye. It was Sparrow, trying to take on the attacker with her own strength.
He knew very well that this fight could not simply be the coywolf's alone. He couldn't run off and save his own very survival, and would he even consider it? Not with another of the same territory. He couldn't do that. And using logic or not, he threw himself into the fight. He couldn't shift, that would surely deduct his time for helping out Sparrow. Fiery eyes were wild as an arm pulled another arrow from his quiver. His intent was not to shoot, the risk of falling his compatriot was too great. But the sharp tip would provide useful for something.... Arms out and rolled upon the ground, the slight coymutt with the arrow in his hand attempted to wrestle with the Secui wolf, snarl on his lips and the arrow flinging at the flanks of the invader, trying so desperately to wound and maim his attacker. He wasn't sure if it'd work, but it would be a good diversion....If only Sparrow would move for him to shoot.
Nah, I thought it was Jacinto in lupus. :| Read about four legs last time then he whips out a bow, haha. And I guess I wasn't clear with my attack either? Let me (Raze) know if I need to change anything this time. Aly, some PP on my end to get them in the position you mentioned over PM, just to speed things up.
Reagan almost felt like a monster as he sprang from the foliage -- but it was a thrill, an empowering feeling. He had never been a force to be reckoned with, but the pretty mottled coyote stumbled away from his advance and fell, and a satisfied smirk twisted the side of his lips upward. His scream deepened into a hoarse roar as his secui jaws closed around the redhead's shin, biting deep and hard as he could, wanting to feel bone crack between his thick teeth. He tugged, about to start shaking his head back and forth to drag the luperci to the ground, but the stretching sound of a bowstring made his ears snap up on his broad head.
His movement -- and perhaps the coyote's aim -- saved him from sprouting an arrow from his throat. The tip instead dug into his scruff as he tried to crouch away; his thick, raised hackles and secui neck saved him from devastating damage, and with a shake he managed to dislodge the point. Blood running down the side of his neck, the scruffy orange wolf snarled.
That, too, was cut off. The slender female had grabbed him, and he squirmed in an attempt to get free or bite a chunk out of her arms. She did succeed in holding him off from the male, who jumped into the fray armed with an arrow. It stabbed him, and he growled again, lashing desperately against the pair of coyotes. He could not go out this way -- not until he'd killed one, just one, so it could be said he'd accomplished something in his pathetic life.
Desperation and fury lent Reagan strength, and he whirled around, throwing himself at the woman. He landed on top of her, weighing her down, and lunged for her face, saliva flying from gnashing teeth.
He could have run while she had him for a moment. But, it was obvious that Jacinto was a better person than her as he was not hesitant to jump into the brawl with a sharp point in his hands despite his leg injury. As the beast under her lashed and turned and snapped at her arms, she kept looking at the arrow, and a memory came to her, an idea. She was stupid not to have thought of it sooner, but now that it dawned on her, and knowing that she could not hold the wolf much longer, she wasted no time and made a mad grab for something under her cloak.
In that same instant, the monster turned the tides and in a sudden wave, she was under him. His weight was too heavy for her to throw off, and she knew this. Yet, she stared down the eyes of the wolf, into the very maw of death, and felt no fear. An eerie calm settled over the woman, and whatever emotions she had before were erased from her mind. With a soft cry, her hand drove into the side of the beast as he came down upon her.
The dagger was plunged deep into his ribcage, up to the very hilt where the lion's head laid.
That Boreas wolf had done the same to the girl, who's father was now dead because of the very canines this beast chased after even after their downfall at the clan's hands. It was ironic, really, but Sparrow had no time to think that over. Her hand had relaxed around the blade for half a second when the deed was done. But, it suddenly gripped again, and was raggedly dragged out to sink in again on another place on his flank, bearing the same drive at the first stab. And instead of allowing for it to rest there, continued to push it into his body with as much strength as she could muster, driving the point the farthest it could possibly go.
Skipping Jacinto so we can wrap this up. Also, this sucks. xD
Broom yellow eyes gazed back at him, and for a second Reagan stood poised over her, saliva dripping from his bared fangs onto her cheeks. Something flickered in his green eyes, a sense of foreboding coming over him, and a ripple went through his ugly ginger fur. But he could not hold back now, he had to bring her down, even if the male shot an arrow through his brain he had to kill her so no one could say he hadn't tried.
I'm sorry, the wolf tried to tell her, a choking sound leaving him in place of a snarl this time, I'm sorry, but I have to, you don't understand. And then his teeth flashed for a final time, his head lunging down for her throat -- only to halt midway, his jaws parting in a gasp. A sharp pain exploded in his ribcage, and he yelped as he felt something deep within punctured from the blow. His wriggling, originally meant to keep the girl pinned and maintain his weighty grip on her, turned into a spasm of pain as the dagger ripped out then plunged in again.
No, can't, Reagan yelped, and he jerked backwards. Something tore, and more blood spilled onto the yellow grass, and he knew that cut had been deep, far too deep. He threw the whole of his body sideways to evade her, abandoning his determined last-ditch effort for acceptance in favor of getting out with his life. He turned around, his tail tucking behind his legs, and limped as quickly as he could away from the coyotes, his side matted with blood.
(466) I'm starting to chant to myself not to feel sorry for Reagan. Don't feel sorry, don't sorry... ;m; Its not working. I'm a terrible person. Seriously, I'm about to go in a corner and just bawl. Not even going to ask if PP is okay cause I'm already a horrible person.
He had paused over her, and her large eyes could only look back at the ugly, beastly green. She saw nothing but murderous intent, a fire that had wished to consume her. That pause seemed to stretch on forever as she stared down the wolf. She could have sworn that she saw some shift of emotion, that his gurgling sounds were words trying to be form instead of monstrous growls. For the most fleeting of moments, the last shred of compassion that was left wondered if this was all a misunderstanding. But it was too late.
There was no mercy on either side. His teeth were bared, and leaned in, hungry for her life. The knife was soon buried into his flesh without any more remorse, and it stopped him in his tracks as his throaty growls were replaced with quick intakes of air. He had started to shiver over her, and he soon turned hysterical. When he pulled away from her, her grip was still hard on the hilt despite the blood that now slicked it, the lion's head speckled crimson. It ripped out of him raggedly, and the muted sounds of the motion chilled her somewhat, but the cries of the wolf kept her from being nauseous.
He leaped from on top of her, and she quickly rose to her feet without any hesitation. He had started to retreat, sniveling away with a trail of blood tailing after him. She did not consider for a moment of letting him leave, to show him an ounce of humanity. If she was nothing more than a damned monster to him, a beast that is an unregrettable kill, she may as well be one.
She hit the ground running upon she had regained her balance, her round gaze seeming larger than before, her pupils dilated, wild. In moments, she was upon him, hands shoving him to the ground roughly and without grace. Despite her small size, an overwhelming strength suddenly came over her as she pinned him down on his back, and if the male tried to squirm away from her grip, it would have been futile.
With clawed hands, she grabbed his muzzle from under his jaw, and made him face towards her. The tides had turned, and it was now her time to looked down upon the victim. "Can't what?" she asked quietly, too quietly, too peacefully. Her voice was emotionless, devoid of anything. "You did not have to, but you did anyway. Without hesitation." It was his choice, on his own initiative that he had attacked her and the other coyote. He did so without a second thought, to prove himself something when he was nothing to the world. If anything, he dug himself a deeper hole, deep enough to be his own grave.
Aly, some PP on my end to get them in the position you mentioned over PM, just to speed things up.
