you might wanna sing
#1
[html]I love this table, by the way. xD Set after that fight thread, 'cause I got impatient.

erif; font-size:13px; letter-spacing:2px; text-align:center;">jan 15

Older and bigger, Andrezej Lykoi could easily admit that he was glad to be out of the rat-hole in which he'd been born; Inferni was nothing more than a hindrance to him. Without the laws and boundaries given to him by the clan, the hell hound was able to go where he pleased, even though consequences still stood, and attack whomever crossed his path. However, he had not yet been crossed, and with age came cunning; he knew better than to fling himself in inexplicable rage at anybody near him.

Instead, he knew he needed to use them. Abuse them. They were advantages just waiting for him to seize, and while they would never be friends or even thought of in a kindly manner by him, they would be unaware of such a thing, as far as he would know. He hadn't had much of a chance to exercise this new idea.

It had never been his intention to find a packland, walk defiantly over the boundaries, and right into the heart of it, though. He had no qualms with doing so, but seeking others out was not what he actively planned; he simply ignored his own wandering feet and kept plunging deeper through Jaded Shadows territory, through the barren trees that stood sentry and the naked bushes that weren't so much obstacles without foliage.

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#2
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I know now that I'm forever dirt

Some wolves contented themselves with wandering vaguely around the very outskirts of their packlands, guarding it from intrusion. They were to be admired, yes - they protected lands, and greeted the friendly visitor. The sentries. He, however, was not a sentry, and he never planned on being one. He would, on occasion, travel the borders for various reasons - boredom, the suspicion of a trespasser - but he would likely never make it a habit. For some reason, he knew that he would not care that much; whether he just understood how he would be once aged, or he already was beginning to have an air of indifference about him, he was unsure. Whatever the case, the male had not strayed to the borders, but merely away from the heart of Jaded Shadows, if only barely. There would be nothing to worry about, there; of course no one would dare to enter the territory so extremely without permission.


It would have seemed, however, as an unfamiliar scent reached his nostrils, that he underestimated the stupidity of some creatures. With a grunt, he sought out the beast with the peculiar scent.


As the young brute aged, he became more indifferent, and yet, at the same time, protective. This defence was not for his pack, though - if they could not protect themselves, then they were worthless - but for his family, and something that he was unsure of, then. He felt the impulsive need to send away those that did not belong, for, had they gone unnoticed, they were a threat. Such an impulse was he feeling then, as he stalked towards the one that did not belong. Perhaps he was unknowingly becoming territorial.


What do you want? he barked out, violet eyes narrowing, showing his mistrust.

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#3
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as they thank the lord


the blind can't see

Andrezej whirled around at the voice that called out from behind, and the young man struggled to keep himself fully in check; his hackles threatened to raise, teeth to bare, ears to flatten. He controlled every variable, beat it into submission, and finally smiled sweetly at the other boy. Emotions did not flicker through his dead yellow eyes, but nor did any amount of frost; one could not tell so easily through his eyes. They were windows to hell, windows to decay, and nothing more. Perhaps in the throes of lust, they might shine for all their vibrant, acidic worth, but until such a point, there was no spark.

It took mere seconds to look the similarly aged wolfboy over, and immediately, Andre decided he didn't like him; rarely was any other type of judgment passed on such despicable things as wolves. Cinnamon brown, he almost reminded the coyote hybrid of the Inferni folk, yet they were decidedly more useless; still, they were at least a breed worth acknowledging. The most notable features included the black that dapped his paws and his muzzle, though it more swamped his face than his paws, and the eerie (chilling, he might say, and delightfully slitted in suspicion) indigo of the eyes.

Dashing. But worthless.

I was just looking for my father, he said in a voice slightly raised by panic, inwardly smirking at his lie and the aplomb with which he pulled off concern. He hurt his foot, poor dad, and went off into the trees around here. He placed his ears back and lowered his head as if he was really worried and frightened. I can't find him anywhere! He's really big, and looks a lot like me, but his eyes are blue. Sure, make-believe daddy was handsome and strong, wasn't he?

Can you help me find him? Please?

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#4
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the better of two evils

The young male had to suppress a grin as he seemed to startle the other. He did not know why he took pleasure in such a thing, as normal as it was, but he did. Perhaps it was because the nameless creature had no right to be where he was, and he might have needed a good scare. And although it was not really a good scare that Merit had given him, it was something.


Appearance-wise, the coyote appeared quite normal, with a coat consisting of greys and browns, these hues darkening and lightening at various places. What the boy did not like, however, was thought almost, because surely there must have been something in them. But that thought might have been incorrect, too innocent. But he was not yet grown, he had yet to understand the heartlessness that some wolves possessed.


Oh, Merit murmured, his ears folding back as he thought. Had he seen the male in question, anywhere? But before he was too deeply lost in thought, the boy noticed a small detail about the story that was... fishy. Why would a coyote adult be here? Within reason, he really did not understand why he would be there. Unless his father, too, was lost, but even then, areas claimed by packs were usually noticeable.


The good thing - well, good for those other than him - was that, at his age, he gave far too much the benefit of the doubt.


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#5
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as they thank the lord


the blind can't see

I dunno, he admitted, though he didn't miss a beat in between; he could be an actor, if he wanted to pursue that kind of a life, but he already had his life in line, that being that rules were abhorred. It was a simple matter of rebelling against what was told to be, proper, and ignoring that which was not regular. Unfortunately, it led to the lack of reining on such rampant creatures, and left them to run their lives in whatever feral fashion they so chose.



He really likes it here, he explained quietly, as if that would be some kind of excuse. The forest and the mountain and everything. He says it's tranquil, reminds him of his real home. Yes, Andre really did have the perfect, father. Make-believe was much easier than reality, in which he had a wolf loving waste-of-space father named Laruku Tears, who was also somewhat insane, as the belief was. He was, too, but being the way he was, he believed it was simply by choice.

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#6
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hang all you cattle with your velvet rope
The other boy's explanation of why his father, an coyote, would be in Jaded Shadows, seemed plausible. The place was nice, wasn't it? And if it reminded him of his original home, all the more reasons for him to want to be there. But even with that knowledge, something inside of the young wolf was telling him that something was not right about the tale. He promptly ignored it; the little voice didn’t know what it was talking about.


I see, he agreed, with a nod. Alright, I guess I can help you, in that case. Violet orbs glancing around the area, he picked a direction and walked, making sure to keep his nose on edge for any unusual scents. Smell him anywhere?

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#7
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as they thank the lord


the blind can't see

I can't smell him, he explained, I don't know where he went in. That might've been possible, but he knew he would have to stop justifying his case, or he'd find himself waist-deep into this territory before he had a chance to turn on the boy. Of course, his plan wasn't necessarily to attack, but if Merit knew too much, he might ask questions. It wouldn't do any good for his father to be Laruku while he was making stories up in his head to make his trespassing somewhat more righteous to the wolf, who deserved much less than his mask-assumed kindness.

Can we just walk for a bit? I might find his scent that way. He really wanted to find out what this territory held; was there a house here that the wolves stayed in? Where was the secret to their power? He wanted to find whatever it was they had hidden; a technology center, a pit of savages, a group of gypsy women, or anything else extraordinary. Perhaps they were simply a primitive village of spear-bearing wolves, or maybe they weren't even Luperci Ortus at all.

How amazing that would be.

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#8
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hang all you cattle with your velvet rope

'I can't smell him, I don't know where he went in.' Merit frowned, but nodded at that, nonetheless. The process of searching Jaded Shadows in hopes of finding the other boy's father might take forever, and, for all he knew, the older wolf might not have even been there. And yet, despite this knowledge, he still wanted to help the other boy. The reasons for this might have been because he had not seen his own father in so long, and he would jump at the thought of being able to find him. Well, would have jumped; he was beginning not to care. But, nonetheless, maybe that was why he wanted to help.


Yeah, we can do that. He weaved around trees that threatened to smack into him, but otherwise kept a pretty straight path for the two. He kept his eyes, ears, and even his nose open, searching for the father of the nameless coyote. Nameless. What's your name?

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#9
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Andrezej would've been even more thrilled to know that this was Legacy's brother; the girl was a permanent memory of his, the fact that she had run so pitifully from him to hide behind Endymion. Fuckers. However, he didn't know that, and couldn't even suspect it, having not really asked the girl where she was from before launching an attack on her. His tool was no longer to be brute strength unless the situation worked better with it; deception and surprise was, somehow, much nicer.

Jeremy, he answered, barely missing the beat. My name is Jeremy. He lifted his nose to the sky and sniffed, arranging his expression into something close to hopeless. Maybe daddy didn't go into the forest! Hah, what a riot. Poor little Jeremy didn't have daddy to protect him from the scary wolves, but Andre knew they were all mutts anyway.

What's your name? came his echoed question.

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#10
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hang all you cattle with your velvet rope

Jeremy. For some odd reason, the male did not think that the name suited the coyote - but, then, he wasn't one to decide who should have what name. If the other boy said his name was Jeremy, that must have been right. Just as he was about to introduce himself as well, he saw the look on Jeremy's face, and frowned. The poor kid must really have been worrying about where his dad was, huh?


Merit. When he was older, perhaps he would not have given his name. Perhaps he would have ignored the question, thinking only packwolves trustworthy enough to know it - but at the moment, he was a puppy, and he didn't have a care in the world. Not really, anyway.

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#11
Hope you don't mind that I messed with the font family a bit. ^^;[html]
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It was high time.

The coyote's ears flickered forward as the wolf stated his own name, and it was from here that malice openly flooded his expression. He, of course, was staring right at the back of the cinnamon boy's head, plots and schemes urging him forward as his tail began to sway at a far more violent rate. He didn't do anything but let the bubbling laughter, very obviously not innocent or particularly nice, escape through his mouth.

Merit, he repeated, as if tasting the name, and finally the snarling began. Meet death. And the coyote pounced.

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#12
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hang all you cattle with your velvet rope

The other boy seemed perfectly decent. Nice, as far as Merit could see; he had not said one bad thing, had not even looked as though he were grouchy. So, when eerie, obviously not good-intentioned laughter leaked from his mouth, Merit couldn't do much other than stare. Why was he doing that? A threat left him to match the laughter, and the boy understood what was going on.


He was in trouble.


He did not move fast enough to get away when the coyote pounced; he had not really understood what was going on until it was too late. All he could do was topple over and claw at the other boy as best he could. Stop it! he growled, although his voice was not as strong as he would have liked.

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#13
So I finally read that chapter with Edward's point of view...
And this took forever. D: I'm sorry!

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No way! came the bitter snarl of response as the two boys tumbled. Andre's claws ripped for any hold on the other child and as they rolled, so too did his vocal chords; they only paused in their thrumming of angry sounds when he barked in the coyote-esque fashion or to inhale oxygen. He wasn't looking to simply harm the other boy; he was looking for the kill.

Up leapt Andrezej, and down went his body. He landed on his feet rather well, stumbling only a little bit in his growling, stiff hackled manner, but even then the laughter bubbled up. Madness rolled in clouds over his eyes, though it was not purely insanity that inhabited him; there was cold, murderous reason and logic there, too. Sane beings could tell the difference between good logic and bad logic; the latter simply bore the word, "slaughter."

He pounced again, this time with teeth bared and ready.

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