-Enslaved Canary- ((For All))

[Damien]

Lush greenery over came all senses. The birds high in their nesting place singing lullabies to their infants. The peaceful pleasure of freedom washing all care from mind and withdrawing all stress inside. It was a sanctuary, a resting place for all but mostly for those who needed a cure for a black heart.

Rotten this one was prancing into the vivid colors as if there was nothing wrong, her spiritual odor causing all heaven to scream and the coat seeped its infectious ways with each paw she placed on the ground. She had come to seek healthy remedies to her blackened ways, her mind and body trapped within an astounding agony. Harshly she called out, baying to the beauty around her to have forgiveness on her polluted look. With each out cry saliva transpired from her maw, seeping over her lips and falling to the floor. The earth burned as it was forced to swallow the impure drivel.

The wind howled its displeasure with a clamor of anger pushing the varg back. The she-wolf pressed forward and let out another pleading bellow, reluctant to be turned away because of her look of filth. Her muscles tightened as her maw stretched open for another say in her matter but just as she did so a brilliant glow caught the emerald of her eyes.

A beautiful human with stunning pale skin appeared from a wall of hanging vines. Her scarlet red hair cascading down her back and pooling at the floor she stood on. Her eyes however where those of a trusted brethren, a wolf of red.

A white hand reached out and the black fae was frozen in half admiration and half fear. Soothingly the hand did not harm, instead it gently caressed the she-wolf’s grungy chin. The wolf’s eyes broadening with each movement of the glowing human, who was she? The curious question quickly being replaced by others that begin to fester within the vaults of her mind. She was dirty and felt even more so next to such a bright figure. The lady of red rested her calmly touch and phased behind the wall of vines that covered what the varg thought she could smell was water. A hand was left, its palm faced up and open, seducing the fae to follow. She placed her muzzle into the glow and was gradually pulled through the wall, the kind hand gladly wiped clean the dribbling maw and when the fae re-opened her eyes she could see a crystal pool that radiated light and warmth.

Crimson follicles dabbed at the water until they surrendered to its alluring force as the maiden slowly waded into the pool, the wolf close behind. In a timid fashion Aspen placed one paw in the warm water and then the other. A surge of electrical purity ran through her feet and she glanced down in atonement. However the maiden pulled her gaze toward her own face and walked the she-varg into the waters. Suddenly her whole entirety was engulfed with in the shallows and the healing began.

She fell asleep.

[Liberté]

“Enslaved canary,
Spread your wings like purple aniline
With eyes of dazzling shooting stars
And a plume of brilliant sunshine…”

The infant wolf wandered across the lush bullion spears of the prairie, bathing in the warm colors as they melted into him as his mother’s love once had done. Paws tread lightly as always, digits spread and barely touching the silt along the riverbanks. His head was just about taller than the grasses surrounding, just enough for his pale eyes and erect ears to float above them as he executed his sinuous gait. Broad daylight has exterminated his fears of darkness and monsters, and his heart was light with the relaxed emotion that a pup his age was accustomed to feeling. It was not that he was the desert rose, but he was unusual.

Thoughts of Bila horded his mind, withdrawing his senses from the golden moment and bringing it into one of doubt. The chocolate-doused toffee she-wolf was the only wolf he had been able to relate to in the months of mourning his lost mother, and nothing but her and the promise of spring had been able to lure him from his own surrender. To him almost everything started as a lost cause as he padded restively towards the oasis in the desolate tract of his life and the Valley. “Oh, Spring, what will you bring?”<br>
Then with her voice of lilacs and robins, Springtime cried in joy, “In these hours of darkness, I bring you light!” And she did. Her volatile nature had overridden winter in the Valley, sending warm fingers of growth to crawl like vines through the otherwise barren plains. Those fingers caressed the old dormant roots of the trees and the bulbs of the flowers, sending them breaking through their self-endowed cell of crippling soil, and into the fertile silk rays of the newborn sun. All was peaceful, and only the warm fronts were left to tickle the sapling’s spines and the petals of a budding narcissus.

“Enslaved canary
Trill your hymn for me
Your wings of bright comets’ tails
Can’t you smell the sea?” and the words trickle drowsily from Tocho’s lips as he sings his mother’s song, the resonance of her beautiful voice instilling him. He ruminates on the saltine taste of the marshes where he once lived, fed by the Black Sea, and endeavors to see his mother’s face before him. There is a faint wag of his tail as a wisp of her features materialize in his minds eye, but as quickly as it comes it dissolves into a morning-after-the-storm haze to leave the wolf grasping onto the only lines of the ballad he could remember. Before him a scent was greeting him, flourishing as the fresh lawn, but pure as the cascading waterfall, and his mitts lifted with more and more spirit with each pace.

To Tocho’s dismay he could not find the source, for an intricate knot of creepers forged a thick barrier from the boughs weeping willows. It blocked off the perimeter of the pool, as some small flaws in the vine wall gave him access to. As he stole a glance through a somewhat large break in the hedge, he caught glance of a black mass rising up and down- a wolfess? At the comprehension of this Tocho’s hackles flared and he began to pace around the greenery, frantic to get to the other wolf for no reason at all but to check if it was all right. Puppyish whines crawled from his gorge as he sidled up to the hedge, trying to press his tiny maw through the holes to no avail. Finally he realized he could crawl under, and he sank to his haunches.

The reeds strove to snare him, roots to enmesh him, and every particle of water attempting to lodge itself in his throat. As he got through the thick wall he realized it must have been longer than an average gray wolf from tail to snout, and he gasped for oxygen. With the water nearly up to his withers, he waded across until his feet told him it was time to cycle for a swim. At the farthest bank, not even six adult wolf lengths away now, the ebon bulk didn’t seem so large and about his size. As he trudged up next to the wolf he inhaled sharply, analyzing its scent as female and one he had encountered beforehand. Lobes pricked and he licked her warmly on the maw, hoping to rouse her to her senses lest she be unconscious. Walking a tight circle around the she-wolf, accompanied by his barks in the humid darkness within the vine wall, he could find nothing to do to wake her.

And so he began to sing again, quietly at first but his tone grew stronger:
“Enslaved canary
Wage war for your beliefs
Please do not blame me
For together we will discover relief…”

[Damien]

“Enslaved canary….”<br>
The warmth finally begun to sink in…<br>
“Wage war for your beliefs….”<br>
She was strong and though it had been daunting she was still alive…<br>
“Please do not blame me…”

It hadn’t been her fault… what had happened…<br>
“For together we will discover relief…”

The purity sung itself into her heart… cradling her feeble body until awakening…<br>
Serene emeralds gradually revealed themselves from their darkness, the ever-growing worry of what had happened earlier plaguing the sweet mind of one so innocent of life’s spoils. She was to weary from the long travels that had taken the mass amount of energy that once lay placidly in her and drained it into each of the steps she had commandeered for her escape.

The lush green illusion that once filled her innermost thoughts intertwined itself with her dark follicles as she lay still on the grass. She listened, the harmonic melody swinging her into a vast majority of depth as the tones rose and fell, each word whispered confidently as if rolling off the wind’s tongue. Her eyes perceiving the unfathomable details of the fore paws in front of her, studying, memorizing, silently.

Movement came to her just as swift as life itself did, she spoke, her maw brushing against the grass that had been bathing in Fenris’s light earlier that day.

“Enslaved Canary…” she whispered,
“Do you not feel the ire?…<br>It will forever be inescapable…<br>Until our hearts lead us to the end…<br>Where we will expire…”

[Liberté]

Day was deserting the mountains as Night came to cater the affair of transition, relieving the woods to something of a fusion of both dusk and dawn and light and dark. Peculiar light, also unified to the sun’s scarlet rays and the moon’s silvery ribbons, pooled through the canopy. Around the tiny pool in the middle of it all the vines swayed in the light tangerine three leafed spades. They fell in dreary locks to the blades that rose wither-high and seldom a leaf would drift down from its stalk and send a disruptive ripple in the tranquility of the pond. It was humid and the air hung with integrity, a purity that had at once shunned the two wolves but now adopted them into its capricious elite.

A whelp lay sprawled and still singing with his long pillars of beige unfolded before him, poise and dignity murmuring through his bones. As he rested as a lank contour against the cataleptic female he seemed unproportional with colossal puppy ears and oversized bony mitts, but time would be good to him. Lids wilted like the soft petals of a purple forget-me-not and the wolf’s orifice went ajar in a yawn, a pink worm tongue lolling from it. Sleep had slipped through his teeth for two nights to the day, the journey to the new pack land being its stimulation.

Tocho situated his chin upon his forepaws to close his eyes for a moment. The chocolaty hairs of his pelage mingled with the black of the other wolf and he began to feel a dream knit thick around him. Finally, he felt himself plummet into wonderful delusions of meadowlarks and subversive grottos, then the body next to his stirred fitfully. The wolf was now aware and Tocho rutted his forehead as she began to sing in an undertone of mercy and compassion.

The rhythm of his pulse syncopated with the offbeat of the awaking she-wolf’s loud breath and he fell away to the sandy banks. It was that same beautiful ebon pup from the meadow, that very same female with her eyes of jade splinters that fueled his own breath to heave and caused his pulse to rise in tempo. His mother’s song had faded into the silence as he watched those eyes watch him. Every chemical was in balance; each tonic note of his voice and every wrinkle of falling vine leaves all blending into one lingering chord. The sound of it lingered and expanded, getting softer as time grew old at the pond side just as the ripples in the water grew.

Had he just heard the final verse of the song his mother sung? No, my mother never ended things. She began them, and Tocho speculates what that meant and if he was expected to conclude the lullaby of the Enslaved Canary. He could not speak with his tongue too large for his mouth, sticky and ugly like wads of cotton to his gums. No longer did the shadow monsters and faint footsteps dwell in the caverns of his mind, and he did not settle on Bila or his real mother, for the words of the black wolf before him still clung to him like briars in a disheveled coat.

“Enslaved canary
I shall sing for you
Too long have I made you worry
Wet with the Armageddon dew…”

[Damien]

She was still…<br>Shards of moonlight spilling through the ringlets of vines moved over her shimmering ebony pelt. The pale lighting soaked into her body, giving her more energy to awaken from her semi slumber. Her olive eyes absorbing all life they could as they maintained a trans like stare toward Tocho. His pale colors fading in with Tor’s mysterious glow and his figure nearly vanished before her. The male’s breath was soft like her own and seemed a little hesitant in answering her verse, his tongue lolling in his mouth as if it troubled him to speak. Her eyes rose in a gradual fashion and her heartbeat wildly while overcome by his domineering lure. She felt herself feeble whilst in the midst of his confidence and found herself captivated by his own glimmering optics of jet.

In the vast pools of black she saw what she did not expect, it was as if his mind had vindicated for the time being. No longer did the apparitions of his past infect his thoughts of the future. Soft tones then averted her attention from his sensors as his maw moved to the melodic pulsing of “The Enslaved Canary”. As the words gently swirled around her auditoria and slowly phased into a blanket of silence, Aspen’s body summoned her voice and she admitted to her latest conceptions,
“Enslaved Canary…<br>Your melody intrans me…<br>Lingering you are not…<br>On the past that binds thee…”

Her own tone now dwindled down to a near whisper as her loosely tied focus wandered through the events that had occurred earlier.

-Short of breath, she heaved and panted urging her lungs to take in more of the air she ran through. Shouts following her from behind, as they got closer. She was agile in her gate and stepped quickly over the fallen foliage. But with one tap she was taken from her swift run and plunged into the forest floor in pain. Her foot had been caught in a metal clamp that sunk its teeth deeply into the flesh of her hind ankle. Aspen whined as she licked at her foot, senses still fully alert for the monster that struck her deepest fears. Following the trail of pressed prints, grungy humans loudly stomped along the path, whimpering shrieks that pierced the silence lead them to the enmeshed wolf. Scuffing through the leaves like a giant bear would, not caring if her presence was announced to all for he was at the top and no other putnar could take him. There were a few men in the group and they circled around the she-wolf in an arc. Aspen’s gaze jerked up in a frightened jolt, as her head twitched toward each of her former owners. One suddenly lunged toward her and she shot backwards into the arms of another who placed his large hand around her muzzle. Struggling to be released from her prison she clawed and wriggled about violently. The other two came at her and roughly shoved her to the floor. They strapped a muzzle around her maw and bound her feet to a log after stripping her free of the bear trap. Hoisting the wood onto their shoulders they carried her light body through the forest re-tracking the way they came, however, Aspen would not give up with out a fight. It was true in some ways she longed for the familiar but the valley was now her new home and she did not want to leave. The men moved about a petty pace as Aspen flexed her mandible muscles, their straps worn and old torn from much use. With a small tear through the hide her bottom jaw broke from its hold and rendered itself free. She snarled and snapped at the human’s weak attempt to bind her to the log and plummeted to the hard earth after slicing through more straps with her pearly canids. The rest was a bloody mess, she did not wish to recollect at the moment as her vocals softly faded from all sound.

Aspen felt an unending warmth stream from the words Tocho had earlier uttered. Their rhythmic beauty giving her all the familiarity she needed to continue on in the Valley. A sudden aspiring emotion flauxuated through the fae as her vision gobbled up the image of Tocho. Aspen rolled onto her stomach and lurched forward as if she was about to rally to the alpha but hesitated. The equation was clear to her now and the strong yearn for someone to fill her void tugged at her insides, the single constant in all the variables of her mathematics was Tocho, but she kept her sentiments at bay.

“Enslaved Canary…” she continued to refer to the man.
“Your name no longer fits you so…<br>Doors to the rookeries are open…<br>You are free to fly you know…”

((Twasn't the same as the other one *sighs* but OH WELL it'll have to do, so bare with my quick subject changes lol cause i'm to tired to think quite like i was when i first typed it))

[Shiyune]

Sweet melodies of hush. Sweet melodies of warmth. All so tempting all so desirous but all so far away leaving holes of pure shadow, burned with the absent purity of lush shine.
Soft featherings of light seemed to dance on the cool breeze. Like doves swirling around in slow motion, it's every wingbeat savouring the feeling of soft air drafts carressing it's wing feathers.The light then faltered, retreating to the outer reaches upon the wings of silence.


The fiery glow of past times and times of desire faded away leaving a barren backbone of the time of the present and the time of preown. But move a little slower and soften your pace, for there is no place ever to great, to stop and scent the breeze. The bringer of far off lands and to gaze out across the open sea of poppies.
But time ticks away and leaves you nothign but a stare, so you think, no wonder you don't care. I time does not stop for you then who will? That is upto you to decide the outcome.

Fly away little bird fly out of sight
sing little bird, sing with all your might
though few know your lovely song
and few know your presence
Though some want to steal it
steal your sweet voice
They don't know what is right or wrong
Until the damage has been done
How they ended the little bird's life
and her melodious song
So fly away little bird
somewhere you belong

A pair of cyan hues hgazed out onto the land. Stock still and silent as the deep pools watched the little red swallow flutter away. Her thoughts drifted upon the little bird and how free it seemed to be. how she wished that her life was like it's wings, able to fly away at any given time. Perhaps to some far off place. A way to escape all things unbearable.
Finally takign her gaze away from the path that the bird had flew, the form turned and silently continued her pace. A walk that had beginning or no end, a walk that had no destination or no reason but still the lera walked on.

A song. Soft and sweet. Soothing and rich came to the lera's ears. Her dial turned to the path of the vocals and her sight led her to the north of where she stood. The lera turned, a wolf she was her form small and thin. Her tan coloured hide covered in light dustings of snow from the rigorous runs she had attemptign down the slopes of ridges and mountain sides, all still with no point.

Soft pads under her paws gave her leverage, enablign her to glide across the plains of snow and ice as the voice got closer. The varg stopped her ears pressing forward to take in the notes before continueing her gait.
Seconds later found her pausing a few feet away from the ebon lera, yet another of her kind. The she wolf lifted her chin, a crack forming on her snout and then it parted revealign a set of shimmering canids. Her own voice escaped her parted maw, almost unexpectedly though it seemed to flow just right. Without hesitation the varg began to let the words emerge as well flowign into workable sentances.

"My do you sing well...." The tan she varg spoke her cyan orbs placid with calm complexity. Her facade brimming with an expressionless meaning as she stood before the ebon she varg and awaited the next set of vocals to escape he maw in reply.

(ack sorry my post made no sense whatso ever! I'm tired. yup thats my excuse!! im tired!)

[Liberté]

The response of the black fae echoed in his perked ears with the cries of shredded pity streaming within them like subliminal message confetti. His ruffed neck was arced over her face, his own shadowing hers as he trembled with a mix of excitement and… something else. There was another ripple in the concealed depths of the pool as a silver fish slapped the plane with his fins, large and bold strokes compared to the minuscule swells of a water-strider aloft on thrifty surface tension. It was that same wave of emotion in Tocho as he watched the she-wolf’s jades with his wavering eyes, only both intrepid as the fish and insignificant as the water-strider. The movement was wrinkling his soul and his heart in companionship to his pulse. The movement was increasing threefold and he gasped, realizing he had not taken a breath for quite some time.

Her speech was holding him as she harked her captivation, ignorance a term not in his vocabulary as he accepted each string of words. Until it came to the line and the simple phrase of “Lingering you are not…On the past that binds thee…” and Tocho’s nerves release fear into his bloodstream. Around them the sun vanished behind a clouds and the light within the wall of vines suddenly went with it, leaving Tocho’s pupils to expand and draw in little of it was left. He felt the rest of his body draw in together, tight with an inhale and cinched while his orbs inflated. “What do you mean?” and in the dark his voice wavered slightly.

The autumn chill mantled the lands with a parched tongue, an unusual mixture dehydrated and arctic temperature to birth a polar wasteland. All of the pack had moved across their borders to the warmest point of their region, all but two. The first was a buff-tainted wolf, her eyes of green picking her route along the riverbed as she followed it downstream, opposite her pack. Like a light was her heart, tiny moths fluttering towards it in the confinement of her ribcage, and she tossed a false smile back towards the one who followed her. He was the second, a darker version of the one before him and dawdling in a very young stage, having just learning to run straight through the thin snow. Their footpath was clear an pristine in the afternoon’s sun as it just began to fall from the apex of the sky, and then the mother stopped.

“Son,” she began to talk just as her gait had sojourned. The light breeze moved her tassel like a furred flag with its fingers and the child behind her smiled as he approached. He could be easily amused at this stage in life, and even such a trivial action had caused him laughter in such an awful time.

His answer was short of vocalization as he just tilted his muzzle quizzically. His mother gulped, and in sensing the tension that hindered her speech he whispered, “Mama, tell me.” He spoke as if talking any louder would break his mother’s ears.

A smile from the she-wolf before, “Why don’t you lay down? We’ve been traveling for quite some time now and you deserve a rest.” Guilt beset her chest in flames as she remembered that she had forced him to journey with her since his birth.

“Okay, Mama,” was his response as he tucked himself into a tight ball of shivering cub in a nest of leaves. His eyes didn’t shut till he was sure that his mother had butted up against him. A light sleep sprinkled upon him just then, and he drowsily napped with one eye open.

The percussion of footfall caused his sensory to irk towards the sound, vision snaring his mother’s muzzle already pointed in its direction. “Wait here, I must go and find it out,” she instructed with a splinter of high-pitched emotion in her voice. He awaited his mother’s rapid departure into the boxwood as much as her appraised return, but instead he got her staring keenly at him. “I love you, just remember that, my son,” and she bowed her snout as she broke into an easy trot. There was something that caused a feeling of grieving in him, but at such a tender age he did not yet realize why.

“You know naught of the monsters of my past.” The sun was once again trimming his face as he loomed over her, blinking back something that emerged from behind his eyes. Then like a knife another’s words cut him off. It was a compliment, something forlorn and strange to his hearing, and all he could do was swivel towards her with a bemused smile. “Why, thank you?”<br>

//crappy ending, but yeh... the italics are a scene from my story. =0//