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Valefar Apprentice || Masculine || 1.5 Years || Mentions: Raiding Party Stony eyes surveyed the scene. No expression broke out upon the young male's face, nothing but pure and utter vacancy. For a moment, he did not feel anything, and he stared at the bodies, confused. He could not fathom something like this happening. Not to them. How could it? Why would it? Who? He remained motionless, even as his eldest brother, Dezo, leaned against him in support. But he could not even look at him. He couldn't bring himself to offer a simple glance nor make any movement to reciprocate Dezo's own. All he managed was a twitch of his head, and even that was meant to be a nod. "Frida is at death's door... Three of your pups are safe." Three, was that all? His ears had twitched, feeling selfish at that thought. He continued staring, eyes glazed. No, he did not feel anything.. ..until he saw him. A guttural sound was pushed out of his throat, escaping through his clenched teeth. He knew that he should await his father's orders. He knew he shouldn't make a move, but Valefar could stay idle no longer, not when he was among them. He was being pulled, uncaring if danger was near. Proceeding, he brushed past his father, his paws hovering over the bodies of his pack. They were stained with their blood, but Valefar didn't seem to notice. His eyes were only upon him. He lay there in a bush, nothing but a singular hind paw sticking out and resting upon the ground. Valefar knew that paw. He used to watch it run around. Oh, how it constantly followed after him! And when it didn't, it would rest by him at night, kicking him in its slumber. And now, it lay before him, motionless. He had never seen it so still before. At some point, Valefar had broken out into a run, but he hadn't noticed until he stumbled, tripping over somebody and plummeting to the ground. He had landed onto his chest with a grunt, frantically crawling the remainder of the short distance rather than picking himself back up. He couldn't waste any time. He needed to get to him. And finally, he did. He reached the paw that was attached to the leg, that was attached to the body, that was attached to Raum. And for a moment, he rested there on the ground, head upon his paws as he gazed at his youngest brother's hind leg. He could not see the rest of his body, but he knew. Valefar knew that he was no longer, but he refused to admit it. To admit it would admit that Raum was gone, and Valefar was not ready to accept that. "You can wake up now," he whispered, for what if he was still alive, simply hiding? Raum always did enjoy playing small tricks on him. What if this was merely another? What if the blood surrounding Raum was not his own, for surely this much blood could not come from such a little thing? "Get up," he repeated, tone dropping an octave. For a moment, his hopes had increased, because maybe.. just maybe Raum was alive. However, he could tell by the way he dragged his brother's broken body out of the bush that he was a fool for thinking that he'd be fine. And when he gazed into Raum's eyes.. those half-blinded eyes.. they were clouded and emotionless. Valefar knew at that moment that this was no longer Raum, merely his body. Raum was never expressionless. There was always some form of emotion upon him. It was never.. never blank. Blinking, Valefar felt his chest heave, a shuddered breath releasing. He could feel all of his senses at once, and beneath him, his legs began to tremble. Valefar stood there, his proud stature now slumped over with defeat as he stood over Raum's small, fragile body. Raum, who always went everywhere with him. Raum, who used to weave around his legs so often, that Valefar had to adjust the way he walked. How could he continue on without his Raum? "Forgive me," he mumbled out, his voice straining as he suppressed a gutted wail. Life was never fair to Raum. He was too good for it. It should never have been him. It should have been Valefar lying there. He felt enraged at the world that it was not him. Who could do such a thing.. who.. ..somebody did it. It was then when his grief switched into something else, something he had never felt so intensely before. Anger began to seep through Valefar's pores, taking up all of his senses. It caused him to splutter and twitch, froth dripping from the sides of his lips as his heavy breathing increased. He was heaving now, head angled so that his eyes observed the bodies of the other deceased. Valefar had never wished to harm another before. He had never wished death upon anybody, much less felt the desire to kill. But now, he wished to spill blood and.. The grief had corrupted him once more, pushing back the anger, his huffs and growls transitioning into silent cries. And then it switched back into anger, the snarls resuming. On and on Valefar's emotions changed, a series of odd sounds being muffled as he attempted to suppress them. And then a simple silence overcame him. He had met the eyes of Raum once more, staring for several moments in an attempt to memorize them. Those moments had transitioned into minutes of Valefar simply watching. And when he took his next rugged breath, he forced himself to lower his head next to Raum's own. Inhaling his scent, Valefar closed his eyes, his nose pressing into his youngest brother's cheek. A goodbye. |
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Darkseeker
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Valdemar
Earl of the Pack | Male | 6 Years | Mentions: Freydis, Valefar, Dezo, the Pack
Without waiting to see who went where, the large Earl padded up the hill that lead to the valley, pausing as the stench of death and blood smacked him in the face. He was used to it, sure, but not from his own home, from his own wolves. It sank into his flesh, seeping into his bones, making them ache as he stood there for a moment.
Once that moment passed he made his way down the hill and into the valley, his ears flicking back as soon the ground began to squelch beneath his paws. He bared his teeth as he glanced down, blood pooling around his paws the longer he stood, the pressure pushing the liquid back up. How was it this bad?
His attention was caught as a young warrior approached him, her name, for the moment, not coming to him. The news she gave him should have made his heart soar, but instead it was the words she didn't say that made it sink further. Three were alive. Only three. Or, at least, only three had been found so far, or so he hoped. He nodded gently at her, taking a moment before speaking.
"I understand. Return to Nehir, you're going to make sure her and the pups, and the survivors she has with her stay safe. Instruct a couple of Omegas to make those with wounds comfortable, even if they are dying," Valdemar couldn't hide the thickness in his voice, his emotions seeping through despite his best efforts to keep them at bay. It was hard to tell what he was feeling, but it was evident he was feeling something.
He turned and began to start walking when he spied Valefar taking off, purpose in his step as he went. Which, to a degree, didn't sit right with the large male. It wasn't because he viewed it as insubordination from his son, but because it was unlikely Valefar would ever do such a thing without prior permission. His ears flicked as he watched what happened, his heart sinking and breaking further.
"Dezo," he growled out softly, "go to your brother." He spoke simply, before walking from the ground, calling out to those behind him. "They rest of you. Find any survivors. Take a tally, who we have, who we lost. Those lost deserve to be remembered," he then increased his pace, heading for the den in which his pups typically occupied. Surely they would be there, right?
Valdemar moved with a purpose, stepping over the bodies and torn bits of those who once were, carefully making sure he didn't disturb them. They deserved the respect of not being trodded over by their own pack. Still, as he reached the den, part of him almost wished he hadn't. Rage roared within him as he slowed to a stop in front of the den entrance he and his mate had occupied for so long. The place all his litters had been born and raised in. The one place he could go and find peace within, knowing nothing would bother him so long as he was within it's walls.
He stood there as he took in the scene, partially afraid of what lay within it. The entrance was all clawed a part, scratch marks from nails carve into it's sides to make the entrance larger. Part of the top had caved in a bit, but the falling dirt had quickly been kicked out. Blood stained every aspect of it's entrance, fur and flesh splattered about, creating a grotesque painting of pure carnage. It didn't sit right with him that such an act was brought upon a den meant for whelping and peace.
Pinning his ears he began to crawl into the den, growling as he came face to face with the mangled remains of an omega. The poor thing had been nearly ripped apart as it had used it's body to black the entrance to the den. Clearly it had been futile, but the effort alone made the male both proud and horribly sad for the wolf. Had they died for nothing? No. Three of his pups were alive, that meant something. So carefully as he could, wanting to remain respectful, he pulled the deceased body out and laid it gently aside, pressing his forehead against what remained of the wolf's neck. Then he dove back into the den, shimming his way down the entrance, grunting with the effort. It had never been this hard before, but clearly the fighting had damaged it from the inside too.
As he reached the inside of the den, it took all of his will power not to turn tail and claw his way out. Blood coated his legs and belly as he laid there for a moment, panting from stress of what he was seeing. Two small, frail bodies laid warped upon the ground, far too still for comfort. He had never seen any of his offspring so still. It felt wrong.
Slowly he slid over to them and pulled them towards him, the heavyness in their frames and the coldness of their bodies chilling him to the bone. He whined within his chest and nuzzled against them. Aasta and Eitri. Two of the pups in his litter of six. Which left Raum, Thyra, Folke, and Luane. Who had survived? There were four not in here, but only three had been found. So which of the four was it?
His mind went to Valefar, his reaction to sometihng he saw, and his heart sank for who the reaction could be for. He needed to confirm it though. He needed to see it for himself. Carefully as he could he picked the two pups up, their weight heavy in his jaws as he moved gently as to not maim them any more than they already were. Slowly he pushed out of the den, ignoring the blood that clung to him, and slowly walked over to where his son lay.
His ears flicked as he looked down at the young male, and then gently set the two he carried down. "Raum?" He asked softly, not baring to look at the small figure he could see poking out from the bush.
As he awaited a reply he felt himself instinctively nudging the two lifeless forms at his feet, checking for any sign of life once more. When no movement stirred, and now pup yapped at him about it being a poorly played joke, he gargled a whine back, and gently pressed his face into the matted fur of Aasta's body, and then did the same to Eitri's.
"We need to take them to your mother. She needs to know," he whispered, though he wasn't sure he should since she had the rest with her. |
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Baron Omega | M | 8 | M: Open Baron saw the others in the distance as he raised his head. He smiled happily though it slowly frowned against his jaws. The realization that they find all the shredded wolves. Our family that has been torn to sheds. The old brute tried to stand on his paws but thumped on the ground as gravity took him down. He growled with anger. The Earl must know who did this massacre. He grimaced in pain as he slowly tried to drag himself towards them. As he dug his claws into the dirt to give him the traction. He felt the wounds on his stomach and chest reopen as blood curdled in his mouth. He closed his slowly only to shred the ground below him to push him farther. His eyes reopened fighting to keep him alive. He growled,"Find me.. Someone.. I know who did it..." His breathes were heaving as the exhaustion drowned him like blanket. His mind felt as it was slipping away to abyss. He coughed the blood out of his mouth the discolor of red and black. New and old that was coming out of his body. Baron smirked that he wouldn't die trapped as omega that disabled themselves. He will die as a warrior like he wanted to be. But his duty has not be done. He let out a bone chilling half howl and half snarl into the air. A job to for the others to finish. Justice and Vengeance and he knew this pack will honor his pride and his life. That they will repay the souls this pack took. The youth and defenseless lives that those monstrosities took without blinking an eye. The Pups that will never see their mothers again and play. The omegas that will not fight to try to be a warrior to prove their worth. The mothers that can't bare the next generation. Those pets of the Grim Reaper's took the very soul of this pack. And they sure did piss the wrong pack. They got another thing coming. |
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Bellona
Warrior of the Pack | Female | 5 Years | Mentions: Baron
The metallic and sticky scent of blood, stale blood, clung to her like an unwanted cloak. She hated it, truthfully, and not just because it came from wolves of her current pack, but just in general. It was sickening, not to mention the carnage that came along with it.
Still, she followed the Earl up the hill, paying little mind as a warrior rushed up to him giving him some news. She couldn't hear what was said, or, more so, she wasn't actually listening, instead minding her own business until she could see exactly what had happened. By the smell of it, it had been bad.
Oh, well.
Her ears flicked as the Earl spoke again, this time giving them orders to find any survivors. Taking that as her cue, the female trotted off, sifting through the area as she searched for anyone who might still be alive. Her was was impassive, but not because she was trying to hold it together like many wolves were, but because she didn't care nearly as much as them.
"Hmm," she murmured as she heard a weak, distant voice, either calling out or gurgling to itself. Still, it brought her attention, and she walked towards it, blood beginning to coat her paws. However, as she drew nearer the words 'I know who did it' met her ears and she stopped for a moment. Did they? Could they truly have known who it was? Most of those left behind had not been on previous raids. So could they know?
She shook her head gently, and continued to walk towards the source of the voice, finding an old omega who's current state seem poor. Her lips deepened into a frown as she approached, though there was a hard, almost hateful gleam in her eyes.
"Oh you poor fool," she murmured, her voice almost a growl as it's cruel tone came through, "look what they did to you." Her words weren't pity though, like they should be. She curled her lip a bit at him in disgust as she stood over him.
"What were you saying? I only caught the end of it I think? Did you say you know who did it?" As she finished speaking her lips peeled back into a cruel smile, her eyes narrowed onto her features. Carefully she picked up her paw and set it on his throat. "Because if you did... we can't have that..."
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Floki || 5 || Omega || M: Bellona, Baron He could hear the faint rustling of leaves being smashed into the ground as the paws of many wolves hit the earth at varying speeds. After the desolate silence that had plagued him for days, their pawsteps sounded like thunder. The large male pinned his ears and continued to hobble in the general direction that the Earl's voice had come from. Floki assumed that there would be at least two parties: one dedicated to locating the Earl's offspring and another to searching... for anything, really. Knowing his sister, Freydis would have left to find the pups. She never could handle death and decay quite like him. His legs were stiff and screaming at him as he forced them to move. Faint gasps to his right caught his attention, and Floki deviated from his original path to investigate the noises. Someone was dying, but he had been certain that he'd been the only one so far from the others gathered by the pups. Obviously, he'd been mistaken, and there was another wolf living out here. One of the packs? One of the intruders? The pale tan brute slowed his hobbling gait to stifle his noise, just in case the wolf he was about to encounter was... less than friendly. Floki's movements took on a much more fluid, prowling state as he crept forward, drawing close to the ground and pricking his ears. The pains seemed to have disappeared for the time being; the thought irritated him, as he saw no point in an adrenaline rush over an already dying creature. He was in no danger-- Oh, yes he was. The omega stopped in his tracks but remained hidden at the sight before him. There was Baron, one of the older omegas. He was gasping and heaving, clearly dying, with blood running out of several cuts as well as his muzzle. Floki resisted the urge to recoil, though it was not because of his fellow thrall's state: rather, it was because of who was now on top of the dying wolf. Bellona stood there, seemingly surprised -- perhaps unnerved? -- at whatever words the old wolf had uttered. Then, her whole demeanor changed. She placed a paw on Baron's throat and grinned. There was nothing pitying or apathetic about the female in that moment. She radiated absolute malice. What Baron had said before, either to himself or to the she-wolf directly, was about to cost him his life. Floki had always seen Bellona as aloof, constantly irritated, and perhaps a little judgemental. But now, he could see what was really going on behind those careless eyes. A thrill rushed through him, causing his hackles to raise as the sensation ran down his spine. He wasn't alone. He wasn't alone. Others despised this pack as much as he did, reveled in their sorrows as much as he did, wished death upon them all as much as he did. But this wolf, this Bellona, was ready to follow through with those thoughts. Floki no longer cared if she saw him or not. While he did not move from his position, his expression had switched from one of alarm to one of something near excitement. Would she do it? Would she take on the mantle of a traitor, risk her own life to take Baron's? Floki's respect was growing for the female by the second. He had never given it thought that perhaps there were more wolves than just him who resented the pack. Now, as he watched eagerly, those were the only thoughts in his mind. Not alone, not alone, not alone. |
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Folke Pup | Male | 16 Weeks | Mentions: Luane & Thyra. Others "They'll be home soon. They have to be." His younger sisters' confidence in their family's return gave him a renewed sense of energy. Thyra’s hoarse voice continued on about Frida. Poor Frida. She was right, the female had given her life so that they could live. The thought was depressing enough for the pup to lower his head, resting it on top of his paws as he lay among the reeds. He strained to hear the birds, but Thyra was right again, they had gone away… It was a strange feeling, being completely alone in a place that used to be home to so much life. He noticed his sister's ear pin back, and that's when he remembered they weren't alone. Folke’s face grew hot at the selfish thought, eyesight fixated on the limp body before him, it was as if he could see the life being drained from the female's body. Right before his own eyes. He shuddered, turning away. Folke couldn't bring himself to look back, the wounds she had sustained had clearly taken a toll on Frida. "Come on. We need to howl." Thyra urged, her own howl distressed as Luane finally chimed in, in an attempt to stop it. It seemed as if she was afraid enemy wolves would hear, and come after them. “Luane, Thyra’s right,” he spoke. “If we don’t howl now, Frida could die…” Folke did his best to get his sister to understand, but arguing wouldn't make it any better, so he turned and lifted his head to howl. His voice cracked at the attempt, and his throat felt scratched. Relief flooded through the pup when he heard familiar voices. But he was tired, so, so tired. He forced his eyes to stay open as he trailed after Thyra, his mother in site. His sister's voice seemed to fade into the background and he let out a yawn, his body rocking and nearly tripping forward as he reached his mother's side. “Frida needs help…” was all he got out before he let his eyes close. Safe at last, the pup leaned into his mother and sister, but much wanted sleep that he assumed would come once his mother returned, did not. So he stood silently awaiting their next moves. |
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Lightbringer
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Aric - Warlord - 4 - M - Mentions: The raiding party, the pack,
The golden and gray pelted wolf was located near the front of the group as they made their way back to their home. The male held nothing in his jaws as a prize from their raid, he had taken nothing in fact; nothing in the other pack had caught his eye enough for him to deem it worthy to bring it back. He never knew what item would catch his eye, never a living thing unless certain circumstances; sometimes a bone or piece of wood which had a special shape or color; sometimes a good pelt which could be used for bedding.
Nevertheless, he wasn't in bad spirits.
The male was as dangerous as the rest of them, but he had a tendency to be a bit more merciful than some. A naturally kind disposition blending with the upbringing he had had. It created an interesting mix. Soft yet hard; ruthless but merciful. Both sides fighting, one winning, then the other pitches it away. Morality and loyalty conflicting each other. Sometimes it felt like it tore him in two. But this conflict was strictly private; held within his own mind. Despite this, he is not to be underestimated; he has the rank to prove it.
Led by their Earl, their leader, the group continued on. Most of the bodies bloodstained and wounded to varying degrees.
But something was off.
The wind shifting to bring the scent of blood.
The bone deep sense of something not right.
The command to stay only proved that feeling right.
Tensely, he waited. Nervously, anxiously. He hid his uneasiness, but he noticed it in others, not just him. Unnerved by the smell of blood so close to their home. By what was different this time in returning to their home. Ears twitching back for a brief moment, before returning to their normal position. Moving his head and tilting it upwards, to better catch the scent of blood.
Then a tiny howl split the air.
His whole body jerked with the surprise of the sudden sound, head snapping up, body tensing even more and ears swiveling to the direction of the sound. Trying, straining, to catch more.
The command to find the pups came. Followed swiftly by the order to follow.
Aric chose to follow. His legs propelling him in a swift trot towards the leader of the pack as he started up the hill that lead to the valley that was pack territory. Catching up to him quickly, pushing his aching and injured body, the bloodstained wolf slowed once a few paces behind the large male. A slight limp on his right hind leg apparent.
The scent of blood strengthed.
His hackles rose. A shiver raced through his pelt.
Silence reigned in the air.
Once down the hill, the blood and death scent was strongest. It felt like a physical wall for a moment, nearly making the male recoil in shock.
The ground was bloodsoaked. With the blood of his packmates.
Bodies everywhere.
The Warlord pinned his ears against his skull, whether it was shock, anger, or fear, or all three, it was unsure even for him.
His leader entered a den.
And he stayed where he was. In the middle of the carnage. Blood pushed up from the ground where his paws connected to the wet earth. |
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Lightbringer
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Viveka Apprentice Of The Viking Pack | Female | 1.5 Years | Mentions: Denzo (ind.) , Valefar (ind.) , Floki , Bellona The young female walked with her pack. She was bored - her yellowish-golden eyes bearing a dull and uninterested hue. She even yawned a bit, her canines flashing for a second. She walked by her behemoth of an older brother, his snowy pelt bringing her a sense of comfort. However a small scowl appeared as she noted his injuries - she'd have to ask an Omega to tend to her brother later. She couldn't have his injuries getting infected. Viveka wasn't that all interested in the chatter that usually happened after a raid. Her eyes lazily scanned to note that they had brought back two new pups and some of her pack members gotten little trinkets or furs. Viveka had noticed the strange aura of the forest. The lack of singing birds or even a slight breeze. It was quite eerie and unnerving, yet she said nothing of it. She just kept her eyes peeled just in case something started running at them. She wasn't necessarily fearful, more so cautious. And at times like these she was greatful to have an older brother , and she picked up her pace - not in a hurried or frightened manner but one to be closer to him in case something did happen. She swiveled her ears at a sound, and paused momentarily - she could've sworn she saw someone or something in the distance. But that was interrupted when her brother gave a small grunt to catch her attention. She perked her ears at the sound and was out of her thoughts. What was going on? She could see her mother and others looking nervous. That was when the metallic tang of blood filled her nostrils and she could feel her hackles raise as she moved with her brother, she gave a small greeting to her twin, Valefar. A simple nudge was what she gave him. Something was terribly wrong and she knew it, and then her father began giving orders. She chose to follow her brothers and father into the valley to see what was really going on. That's when the horrific sight hit her eyes. It was like a lake of blood. The bodies of her pack mates left behind - their soulless eyes and bodies twisted in horror and the haunting looks on their faces. Some faces having fear and horror frozen as the last memory. The flies and maggots were here dealing with the bodies. Oh, how she wanted to gag - but she was used to death. However this was different, she kept her expression neutral, yet one looking into her eyes could see the pain and anger within them. She then watched as her father entered a den and brought the bodies of her younger siblings. That's when she felt her heart sink. Raum, Aasta, and Eitri The bodies of the pups weren't treated kindly. What kind of barbaric monsters did this? She seethed inwardly. She wanted to scream or shout, but the words didn't come out. Instead she stood looking rather unusually stoic - an outsider or someone who didn't know her well would probably think she didn't care about the deaths from the expression she had. And her lack of emotion to the bodies of her siblings. However, if one noticed the pain in her eyes and the way she slowly walked around the bodies they'd know she's trying to calm herself from the verge of breaking down. She could feel her chest tighten and her breathing worsen, and she had to calmly walk away before she started heaving in shock or anger. As she briskly paced away from the scene she could feel her head swimming. There were so many questions running through her head, Who dared to do this to them? How did they find their valley - did they have a spy or traitor within them? How could the attackers have been so cruel as to kill innocent pups and the elders? Who did this? And as if on cue a sound caught her ears, it was Baron. He knew who did this. And Viveka was relieved, she needed to know who's blood she was going to spill. As she made her way over to the older Omega she noticed a warrior coming as well. Oh, it was just Bellona, Viveka thought to herself. Yet she slowed her pace as she truly observed the female. There was something off about her right now, she wasn't showing emotion. It wasn't that she seemed to have a mask to hide her feelings but it seemed she truly was impassive about the deaths. That was odd. But what was even odder was the way she looked at the Omega as he spoke, it was something akin to shock. But then that face twisted to malice and hatred and she couldn't hear the words spoken but she could tell they were venomous by the look of her face. And then she watched as she pressed her paw to the male's throat. She then noted the approach of Floki. Another omega, would he do the right thing and tell the Earl of this treachery? No, instead he looked as if he was rather taken by this twisted femme fatale and angel of death. Were they in on this together? What the hell was going on? Was she hallucinating - no, she wasn't . She was actually seeing these things with her own eyes. She prayed she had misinterpreted the scene before her. She had to play her cards right because there were so many ways this could go wrong. So she kept on her approach as if she hadn't noticed what was going on. As if she been blinded by her distress - her eyes were neutral as she looked at the both of the wolves before her . She feigned a shocked expression on her face - aimed towards Floki and Bellona "Oh my? What happened here to Baron?" She said looking at the older male who was in rather rough shape, "did he not make it either?" she asked. |
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Lightbringer
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Fell Nomadic Wolf | Male | 4 Years | Mentions: Open The trees of the forest blocked out the shining sun overhead, casting deep shadows across the grassy forest floor. These shadows sometimes stayed still, and other times when there was a steady breeze across the forest, these shadows were lightened by little spots of light that had infiltrated the cover of trees above. Now however, the forest was still and silent. The darkness covering the earth seemed immovable, and the sun a memory. Not many creatures could be seen walking on the forest floor. The reason for this was because of a dark shadow that moved on its own, its deep color darker than any shade the trees could create. It moved swiftly and silently across the mossy ground, its glowing green eyes the only light that seemed to come from it. It was slowing down, ears pricked up and alert as it swept past the tree trunks. Finally, it stopped at the edge of a sunlit clearing with a pond in the center. Stepping into the light, the formerly foreboding figure was revealed to be a male wolf. He seemed a bit on edge, with his eyes and ears alert even as he lowered his head to take a drink. Why he was uneasy, even he didn't know. There was just something in the air, something different. He couldn't figure it out, and it was bothering him. After his quick drink from the pond, he raised his head to sniff. There was not much that came to his attention, but then again, there was not much of a breeze to bring more scents his way. Growling slightly, he made his way to a soft area underneath a large oak tree. Sinking onto the ground, he sighed and stared at the light play and dance on the pond. The last few days had been rather difficult for him. Prey had been hard to find, and he was hungry. A rabbit caught earlier that day had taken the edge off his hunger, but it was still not enough to satisfy him. Thankfully, he could endure it well, but he knew that eventually he would have to pass into pack territories if he wanted to find more prey. Now, he just wanted to rest. As he gazed at the shimmering water, his eyes grew heavier, and it became harder to stay awake. Finally, his eyes closed, and he sank into sleep. "Fell." A voice rang out. The sky was full of dark clouds, and rain had just begun to pour on the pack's camp. The rocks of the camp were drenched and slippery, but a young wolf pup was clawing his way to the top. At the sound of the voice, the pup turned his head. To his dismay, his feet lost their traction, and he hurtled to the ground. He yelped as he hit the hard earth, his claws slashing uselessly in the air. Suddenly, a pair of jaws grabbed hold of him and lifted him gently off the ground. They carried the whimpering pup to a sheltered area of the camp, where a cliff overhang kept the rain at bay. He was lowered down slowly, and turned to see his mother standing in front of him. "Mama, it hurts!" He cried, burying his face in her fur. Laying down, she smiled gently at him. "Fell," he heard her whisper. "Remember, if something is slippery, only the truly surefooted can stand on it without falling." Licking his matted fur, she murmured, "If you want to become a victor, you must learn this. In battle, to lose your footing means defeat. One day you'll become an apprentice, and you will have to learn these things or..." The roaring sound of thunder split the sky, drowning out the rest of her sentence and causing the pup to tremble and curl up closer to his mother. He could feel his mother's tail wrap around him, and enveloped in his mother's comforting scent, he slowly closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep... The dark wolf's eyes opened. He was still under the shade of the tree, and light was still shining on the small pond in the center of the clearing. He sighed, recalling that old memory. It was from a time long ago, when all the world was perfect, when he had a mother to comfort him in his anguish, when he wasn't torn with loss. It seemed so long ago, and yet in his dreams, it seemed like it was only yesterday. If only things didn't happen the way they did. He thought sadly, Perhaps I would be there still. Shaking his head in an attempt to clear his head, he rose from the ground. A pang of hunger went through him and he decided he had stayed there long enough. Stepping through the ring of trees, he made his way through the forest. A light breeze started to ruffle his fur, and he raised his head. A new scent came to his attention, the scent of blood. Blood. It was strong, too strong. A simple hunting kill would never create a scent. Was it...? Narrowing his eyes, he let a low growl escape his throat. Quickly, he turned towards the direction of the scent. He was aware that he could be landing himself in a dangerous position, but it didn't stop him from trotting towards the scent. He was determined to find the source, and that determination overcame his caution. |
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Darkseeker
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Agnar || Warrior || M: Raiding Party, Zoran Large paws hit the ground with surprisingly muted sounds as the dark wolf moved along with the returning group of warriors. His steely gaze traveled along the line, observing the slowly tensing reactions of those up front. His silver and black coat blended in with the dappled light that fell from the tree, but even with his dark fur soaking up the sun, he felt... cold. Agnar could not pin the exact reason as to why everything felt off, but the nagging feeling only grew until it was tugging at his senses. Valdemar's run ahead to the lake only solidified the growing uneasiness in the male. As he approached the waters himself, the grim, hard stony feeling that came with watching a packmate fall to the enemy returned. The cold, dead eyes of one of the omegas were staring out into nothing, pupils clouded over long ago. His mind was still rather numb from the raid, so this was not as jarring as it perhaps should have been. However, he became fully alert at the sound of a pup's weak, pitiful howl. Dull paws followed after the earl, taking him and several others to a place of carnage: bodies were strewn across their home, many familiar. Too many. Too few were foreign. What happened here? The wolves began spreading out, searching for survivors, and Agnar pushed on ahead a ways, out towards the territory's edge. It was soon after that he caught the scent of a healthy wolf amid the macabre. With his hackles raised, Agnar began prowling silently through the trees. It was not long before his eyes found the source of the smell: a young male, no older than an apprentice, was wandering with a tentative air about him. Agnar's eyes narrowed, and he pushed out of the undergrowth with a threatening snarl. Lifting his tail, the large wolf demanded, "What business do you have here, seeking our dead? Rest assured, it will not only be their blood littering this ground if I find you responsible for any part in this." The absolute hate he felt was now clear in his voice. With the bodies of the old and young around him, it was clear that none had been exempt from the attack. That meant that the likelihood of every pup surviving was... very, very small. And any wolf that killed the innocent was beyond dead to him. This young dispersal did not seem privy to what had happened, but even the youngest pup knew how to lie. (This is very crappy, I'm sorry. Too tired >.<) |
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Spring 
Day Weather: 
Flood
