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!! out of character.
I'm RAGE FILLED AND YOU'RE RIGHT THERE!
The girl sat in an open meadow right on the border of Dahlia De Mai. Leaning back on her elbows she let the soft wind sweep over her as she thought. Her offer to leroy, her meeting with Haku, and living with Cwmfen. How long before she couldn't stay with the women anymore? It bothered her to think about it. So she didn't. The red cloth was tied around her eyes today. She usually kept it on, so the people wouldn't bother her about the scars, or her head wouldn't start to ache from trying to focus her vision. When hunting though, she took the wrap off. Svara was at least thankful she could attain her own food.
Feeling the clouds move above her, she smiled slightly and fell back onto the soft grass to lay there. She wondered what leroy was doing. Not being able to have him on the pack lands bothered her. Everyone else had their mates at their sides, hers wasn't even aloud to come say hello. It had become easier to walk off the lands with out her sight. Every day Svara became more reliant on her other scenses. She wondered how long before she forgot about what seeing had been like.
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500+
HEART OF DARKNESS
They day had become brighter than the usual overcast days, but the sun had not yet been allowed to penetrate the clouds. And so the world lay still within that world of half-lights plagued by shadows. And yet, even if the sun were to have the strength, night would still exist to harbor those shadows. And Corvus lingered within that day’s dim light, a flaw within the terrain. His mind lingered upon his daughter, or at least what his daughter symbolized to him. The god that he followed had told him—that bloodline offered to him something much more that his spawns. But Graine had failed. Cwmfen would not, lest she desired the same fate. A sneer. As if she had a choice. But Chance was a part of that game, and it was always moving against her, just as the world was moving toward entropy.
The pied brute stalked silently through the lands, his silence incredible for his size. It was no wonder from where Cwmfen had received her grace. And yet, the grace upon this male seemed ethereal and eerie, as if he were made of something else—something like the shadows. He breathed, expelling that black air that sought to infect those about him with cold, deadly tendrils. And yet he was alone, as he always was, as he always would be for there could be no other way. But his heart did not hunger as the hearts of others did, and his soul was an empty void that did not need to be filled save for with the darkness. It moved through him like the black waters of some taciturn world. And so the pied brute moved through this world as a passing shadow, the black eyes piercing the world with their fathomless ferocity. Sadistic curiosity, if such a thing could be called that, was all that moved him. And he moved now to the pack that had been carried upon the scent of his daughter.
The crow wolf’s maw was pressed upon the earth as if those cruel jaws threatened to destroy the life that would soon thrived upon that dirt. The shadows that lingered there reached out to stroke that maw, only to withdraw as he moved out of reach. The shadows hissed in protest, their wind a whine as the black eyes beheld a form ahead. She seemed to lie just beyond that invisible barrier. The male lowered his maw, sniffing at that scent again, believing that he recognized to whom it belonged. And then he was moving again, a flowing wraith of darkness. The empty facet lifted as he found again that form. Silently, the male breathed in the scent of that thing, recognizing only the scent of the pack. A cold sneer tugged at his lips, but in vain. And then, with that silence of killers, the male reclined upon the sinewy haunches, waiting with a patience that belied mortals. And he waited in his silence for that thing to notice, for that thing to begin the game.
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!! out of character.
I'm RAGE FILLED AND YOU'RE RIGHT THERE!
She could hear him. Smell him. The scent was life a fire in her nose, it was so strange and so close to someone..Someone. The girls heart raced in her chest as she felt the stranger closing in on her, coming so close she couldn't avoid them if she wanted to. She knew she wasn't able to see, at least not good enough to be useful. Only form could be defined if she took of her red cloth and sometimes that was worse then just not being able to see. Grabbing the carved wolf staff at her side, the herbalist sat up and picked the staff up so the base touched the ground and would give her help to stand.
"What the fuck do you want stranger? Sneaking up on a blind women is a dumb ass thing to do, all you end up with is getting whacked with her stick." Getting to her feet with grace and poise she let her ears flick and listen her nose taking in the scent. The moment the stranger talked, she would know where he was. It would give her the chance to really find his body. The voice not only caught her ears, but sent a vibration through the ground and if she stood still enough and quiet enough she would feel it pass through her.
Clutching her hand on the staff tigher she barred her fangs. The scent of the male intrudor was so close to someone else's. It made her tense and uncomfortable. The inability to know who's scent it was, was driving her mad as she stood there. What if it was important? Snapping her teeth together in frustration she took one long deep breath of the scent, let it pass into her lungs like an illegal drug. That one long breath finally told her who it was that this wolf smelled so much like. Cwmfen. A growl passed through the herbalists lips. Who was this stranger that smelled like Svara's friend, and yes she saw the adonis as her friend. Leroy was a lover, Haku a father, Firefly a mother, and Cwmfen her friend, this was home. Who was this stranger?
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500+
HEART OF DARKNESS
The black orbs watched with that silent patience. Time was not a factor to the male. He may have been quick and worked quickly and without mercy, but he could have waited for an eternity for any moment, regardless of how insignificant it may have seemed to those beyond that black mind. And the light thing was still for a moment longer before it finally moved. Those moments were long and drawn out, but brief all at once. And because time was not a factor, he perceived it in a different way. It was similar to his perception of the world—a colorless world made of grays and blacks and whites. Briefly, the male remembered a time long ago when he had been born. Then, his eyes had been grey, but as he had grown they had grown darker until they were a flat matte. And that flat gaze watched the movements of the thing that was moving beyond the boarder. The movements were smooth, but they were clumsy when compared to the fluidity to his daughter, whom he had seen only a week before. But he supposed that such a thing would come naturally to those who began as wolves. Cwmfen had been born a shifter, but he had kept that from her. He wondered if she had discovered that anthropomorphic form.
When it spoke, he offered no response, not even a single movement. He remained still and lithic as the effigies of those long forgotten gods. But those words were ugly. That voice was ugly. This thing seemed to hold the ugliness of these lands. The pied brute could not help but sneer. This continent to which he had come from across the sea was new. It felt new. It did not hold the old magic of the other lands. Even Albion had held such magic, and it was this similarity to Korea that had taken the pied brute to those lands. And there Cwmfen had been made from his loins and the vessel of that bitch, Graine. But here there was a lacking as if the humans had truly killed something. And thus it seemed he was faced with this thing that spoke with noises. The fathomless gaze flickered over the cloth and the way in which the staff was used and held. It threatened him with it, but that staff would not serve as a weapon. Perhaps it didn’t even know that. The sneer moved his jaws, and the movement seemed to throw his form into life.
“Sneaking?” the tenor voice soothed even as he remained still. He provoked her, inviting her to come. He knew the mannerisms of the blind and of the blind who believed that they could do things. It was belief that made one blind. “Your judgment is lacking.” The suave, empty voice dripped only with his mockery. It was a cold sound that laughed and sneered upon the whining wind that wavered between them. The shadows hissed their laughter as they gathered at his sitting feet, pawing at his sinew that wound about his body. And the pied brute still did not rise. Perhaps the humanoid thing before him could entertain him with the attempts. And then he could have his fun.
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!! out of character.
I'm RAGE FILLED AND YOU'RE RIGHT THERE!
Svara felt his words they made her head turn to his location and a snarl emitted from her maw. She knew what she was faced with. "Black souled beast." Like her mother, that was what the beast talking to her was. He was arrogant and egotistical. He was strong, and he found his strength in dominating females and others weaker then him. Not that Svara would have any of it. She wasn't weak, she was stuborn and sometimes foolish, but never could someone say Svara Thames was weak.
She gripped her staff, her one weapon and peice of sight in the darkness. She could take off her blind fold, let her one good eye help her see and defend if needed, but Cwmfens words sank into her head and made her keep it on. The one eye could make it worse, and she would rather have her other senses alert and waiting.The blind were not unable, they were not incapable. Who ever thought so was stupid and niaive. She was able to protect herself much like anyone else.
As she stood before the beast she thought of her mate. Weather he was offically or not, he was in her heart. It sounded mushy to her, but she liked the idea of her mate of having his eyes at her side telling her what he saw. A growl rose from her throat, threatening hating, and demanding. "I don't lack in judgment beast, If I did I would be dead already." Her voice was a deadly rumble. Gripping her staff tighter she waited for the black souled beasts move. She would see what he would do.
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Eh, I got caught up in other things and so it gets posted now, ^=^;;;
500+
HEART OF DARKNESS
The pied brute watched as she responded, as was expected, to the sound of his voice. He wondered why she said it. There seemed to be no point to that sound, or any of the sounds, for that matter. She seemed to speak for the sake of speaking; it was not a trait of the children of Korea. He remembered his parent’s efforts. He had known honor, and he knew it, to an extent, even now; it was a part of that lupine existence that remembered everything. And even the darkness knew respect. It moved every day from the sun’s path to allow it its brief glory, however, false it was. But the darkness would always come to take back that which belonged to it. There was but one thing that he had come for, and he would return from whence he came once he took it. It was a simple matter of territory, or so the brute thought of it that way. And he stood now before the territory of another, recognizing it now to be of the lighter male who had claimed to have deflowered hi daughter. A light sneer flickered over his maw. That one had had a black soul too. It may have been different from his own, but it was there just as it was in ever creature; it had merely been stronger.
The thing gripped the staff as it spoke once more. The emotionless facet remained unmoved, unmarred by the sneers that threatened upon his lips. A hint of that ambivalent beauty was terrible for the darkness as he watched and was silent. The growl was heard, and he only responded with that cold, mirthless grating of laughter that clawed the air quietly. “And why do you seek to prove yourself to me?” The tenor voice was only scarcely marred by the Korean as it pawed at the thing’s ears like poison. The tendrils reached out, threatening to draw her in. He could sense the anger and so he would find the fear. That soft grating sounded again as if two stones moved against one another. “Without a pack, the blind perish. It is the way of Nature and Death.” This thing was a fool to think otherwise. The pack was the only thing protecting it. It was the same mistake Cwmfen had made in accepting that lighter male’s loins, but it was not a mistake that could not be...righted.
"Yah,” the tenor called in the manner of Koreans, that suave tenor rising up on the cool air. “Why don’t you come. Embrace the Night and you shall know.” The voice spoke without the inflexion of a question, as if he were stating or fating. Those words dripped in his mockery, as if he were expecting nothing great from the thing before him. It would not be like that Sabeen Thames where he would leave, allowing her to live. But perhaps, if he played with this thing on the boarder of the pack in which his daughter resided, another would be called to attention. The only movement was the secui’s tail that flickered about his feet as if he were settling into the shade, inviting her to come and join him.
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!! out of character.
I'm RAGE FILLED AND YOU'RE RIGHT THERE!
Svara felt like she was in a dark game she couldn't escape with this stranger. Clutching the staff ever tighter she stopped growling and barring her fangs. Svara's facade broke and a blank face pulled over her features. He wouldn't be angered or intimidated by her growling and barks of rage. With her maw pulled into a taunt line she leaned her weight onto the staff casually. He could inflict pain on her, kill her even, but he wouldn't last long after he had done it. So she wasn't bothered much by the idea.
Her blank face was facing the male as he spoke. She could only shake her head at his words. "It may be you who is not giving the benefit of the doubt. Only a dumb man would think I am fully blind." She said with her husky voice. Of course she couldn't see great out of her left eye, it was good enough to accomplish things. "I don't seek to prove myself to many. So I don't think your on the list." Svara said in the same monotone voice she had taken only a few moments ago. Only after he had said his final words did a light smile creep onto her face and she let the tension crawl from her body.
Deciding something in her head she moved towards the male. Stopping only once to remove her red cloth and get to see what she hadn't seen before. He was in the second form, standing relaxed but confident. Moving towards him she got down to her knees before him so they were now nose to nose, her staff at her side. "You think your better then me. Maybe you are, maybe you aren't. Show me male what makes you better then me and I will give you my respect then, but only after you have shown me that you are better." The excitement in her breast rose. She had been so bored for so long the chance for danger, a thrill made her smirk slightly, but only so slightly. Her nose still very close to the others. Loving him for bringing the chance at some fun.
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ooc; in Halfing form like usually, and he hasn't entered the area yet; though any loud sound can lure him further in anyway :3
Walking with a slow pace the husky's mind was mixed with many slow thoughts that he let run wild, simply enjoying the images they showed him. Walking seemed almost like a unconscious thing to the patterned male, his feet knew the way and needed no help as they carried his large form over the ground; tail curled up behind him like a small shadow as his red eyes looked into the past few weeks events, the meeting with that black female Cwfm and of course his meeting with Svara. He was very surprised by what the red female had to say,ask him, though she is his now and he will do anything to keep it that way. Shacking his head lightly a small smile pulled his away on his lips as his red eyes looked down to meet the necklace his 'mate' had given him, the small word rose a rise in his chest and a ball in his throat- though it was all in a good way. "mate, my mate" The husky's deep voice was soft in his throat as his spoke to himself with a small happiness. Maybe they were not officially or traditionally mates but to each other they are nonetheless, nobody will tell them other wise this male was completely sure. Blinking his red eyes pulled away from his thoughts as he neared her home,maybe just maybe this will become his as well though oddly a tense feeling seemed to be in the air. Flickering a ear the male listened as he furthered his journey to see his love.
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Well, the initial point of this thread/most of Corvus’ threads are supposed to be for him to take a hit at someone, so does Leroy want to be that someone? And of course it’s up to you if you do and how much damage etc. Also, a bit of powerplay, but a realistic one; let me know if you want it changed, Syd, ^=^;;
500+
HEART OF DARKNESS
The thing’s effort to mirror him was amusing. Her words were simply...nothing. They were nothing to him and meant nothing to him; she had mastered nothing and could not master him. Her pathetic attempts at the mastery of words fell ineffectively upon his ears, standing erect atop that head like two horns of the netherworlds. And still he was unmoved, sitting there as if truly hearing nothing. That fierce, empty gaze simply locked itself upon the thing’s face. That flat, fathomless gaze simply bore into the place where the eyes would be. And yet they saw nothing. It was a strange emptiness, a hollow void that did not seek to be filled, for that emptiness was filled with that substanceless Dark. And it had a sound. Just as Cwmfen could hear the song of souls calling to her, this crow wolf, too, had a sound. It was the hollow sucking of air threw the mouth of a dark cave that drew in the warmth and light into it, snuffing it and killing it with a silent, patient efficiency.
And then it was moving. It was moving towards him as if succumbing to that Darkness. The pied brute responded with nothing, seeing nothing even when she released the hold of the cloth that bound her eyes. Those eyes held nothing alluring. Those eyes and that soul were dead to him as all souls were, requiring only his jaws to crush it into oblivion. Black shadows that had gathered about him, tugging at his fur with weak fingers, sighed. They sighed as the wind moved through, whispering and whining through the tops of trees. The trees swayed as did the grass. But the black crow wolf did not sway. He did not move. The white and black hackles responded to that breath, moving as the mist of a cold, damp night. And that damp could penetrate the warmth and seek out the life of the bones. Perhaps he could have a taste as well...?
A quiet grating shuddered through his form as those black lips parted for his merciless laugher. She was close now, kneeling at his feet before him as if in submission. That sneer tugged at the corners of his lips as it finally ceased to move, its nose near to his own. He could smell its stink. He exhaled his own scentless air as if to reject the thing, but his mind was only filled with his laughter. That laughter dripped in mockery. Lured in like a deer fooled by what it saw and smelled, unable to feel and trust that feeling. A warning. It was a mere moment given. The silence that had filled that crow wolf’s ears finally fell away. Abruptly, those cruel jaws had parted releasing a black snarl. His movements were swift, smooth and intangible like quicksilver. He moved through the air with such celerity that the air had but to follow, whistling in his wake. The bone white of those cruel jaws were hungering for that life pulsing beneath that coat.
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