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Post by Carcharoth on Jun 29, 2005 12:37:26 GMT -5
Carch grinned and chuckled darkly as Serg suggested their own fun game of torture and nodded his large head before looking down on the trembling, submissive form of the long-legged faemme. "You are a little wretch for thinking you could simply come in to our lands and take this cub from our grasp. Clever i admit for passing our borders and not loosing your way or running into another such as ourselves...but foolish all the same," he growled deeply to her, leaning in close to her throat and hovering his powerful jowels not far above her delicate wind-pipe. Carch's maw began to drip eerily with drool as he was tempted almost to the point where blood-lust would take over to rip out her worthless, yet pretty, little throat. Though after drooling along her neck, he managed to pull himself away from her and take a step back - forcing himself with all the power of his mind...not to bite! The game would soon start - or at least Carcharoth hoped so - he was unsure how long he could hold back the bloodlust and allow them to live without further pain any longer. Turning his head to Fern, he observed the youth on how he acted about Lufian - chuckling mindlessly at his fear for what the First and Second would do to him now that it was brought to their attention he'd left the Sikla's life unharmed. "No worries Fern - it's more thoughtful of you to bring them both back to us, double the fun," he slavered as his eyes whipped back to the trembling youths.
Thoughs began to play in his cruel and savage mind as he peered at the pretty little sikla. She was a catch...no matter of her ranking. What harm would it be to have a little fun with her before tossing her back broken and shattered? The others could have their own ways with her also...there was pleanty of her to go around them. He shaked this throught from his mind and shook his pelt savagely, making it look like a great effort as the skin was loose and heavy. Standing back and wagging his banner proudly over his back and barked impatiently and began to snarl at the trio, shifting his paws as he was ready to maim..
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Rokk
Sikla
High Warrior of Deor
There was something calling me, to negativity.
Posts: 251
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Post by Rokk on Jun 30, 2005 9:28:32 GMT -5
Rokk winced as he heard the game, he did not like the sound of it at all, but he dared to raised his head to look at Serg, then at Ziev, they were cruel wolves, and right now he could only hope that one day they would get their comeuppance. hope beyond all hope.
Rokk twisted his head to see what a big black wolf was doing by the bushes, and his eyes widened in surprise. the sikla had followed him? he had been picking on her and she had followed him? part of his mind immediately thought 'stupid sikla' but the other part wondered what she had planned on doing. only now of course, there was no way she could carry out any plan even if she had had one. for she was in the same boat as he was. at the mercy of a merciless hoard of blood thirsty wolves.
Rokk looked back at Fernlick, the wolf who had brought him here and whispered. 'you screwed up.' before turning his head again to look inquiringly at Lufian. he nudged her with his light brown muzzle inquiringly. not harshly, or affectionately what they needed, as an escape route. then maybe Lufian could get out and lead her pathetic sikla life. Rokk sighed, why did he have to have an injured leg? these Balkar were cruel, and they scared him, maybe he coudl cause a distraction to create chaos? if he could move. struggling he tried to stand, but yelped as the pain from his leg shot up through him and he fell back down again with a pathetic whimper that he regretted as soon as he let it loose. 'when our pack hears of this you'll be in trouble' he growled, glaring as much at Serg as he dared to. 'Deor will come for us.' he said definately. although his heart doubted that fact very much
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Post by Serg on Jun 30, 2005 10:07:18 GMT -5
ivory fangs flashed as he passed his sickly smile upon the two before him. his tail curved in a snake like fashion behind him and he licked his coal-stained muzzle greedily, anticipating the taste of blood with a passion. the ideas of fun of the others echoed in his mind, they could have all the fun they wanted to with these pair. he could see the lack of hope in the pups eyes and he laughed. especially when the young one tried to stand and fell back down
'you a weak little pup, but we have ways to make you run.' he reassured, but his smiled faded as Rokk mentioned a pack, 'pack? what pack?' Serg snapped his head up sharply and looked with an infuriated questioning glare to Fernlick. 'you left her unmaimed, and able to go back to her pack?' he snarled. it was fortunate indeed that the sikla had appeared instead of going to warn her pack, for now they could toy with them freely, instead of having a few angry vargs pressing on their borders. if the pack was a strong pack, they could have trouble. but then he heard Rokk mention the packs name and a swell of relief rose inside of him, he turned his attention back to the little one. 'Deor you say? you're more stupid than i thought, Deor is weak, and ready to fall, they cant save you now.' Serg growled with delight. savouring the fear he could almost taste from this pup.
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Lufian
Sikla
Fennie's Munchkin
The Sikla is what I am...Do not try to change me
Posts: 113
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Post by Lufian on Jun 30, 2005 13:15:32 GMT -5
*Lufian's body turned rigid as she watched the sneaky ebon bulk of a Balkar slink away from teh group and turn a course where he was no longer in her sight line. Panic over took her and she was trapped where she was, fear preventing her limbs from moving and ehr from from escaping this terrible place. And only seconds later the clattering of twigs as they snapped against his body reached her auds and her gaze slowly shifted to the glare of Carcharoth as he stared at her through the brush. It was too late.
With a yelp and a snarl, she was already caught by her scruff and being dragged mercilessly back to the troup of Balkar males who encircled Rokk. The bite of Carcharoth was tight and shot pain through her back as he shook her savagely before dropping her suddenly limp form to the dry earth. Lufian lay where she had fallen for several minutes, listening to teh cruel, malicious words of the Balkar, until a light nose dug into ehr side and she flipped over suddenly into a submissive position. Realising it was only Rokk, she flattened her auds and whined lightly before glancing away from his brown puppy-eyes. She had failed him...failed him entirely.
But then thoughts began to boil in her mind as she glanced at the faces glaring down apon them. Fear and adreneline building up in her blood as her breathing quickened its pace. No. It wasn't over yet.
It was clear that the male's minds were all engrossed with the thought of play and twisted tricks. So as they chuckled away at one another's ideas, Lufian growled and swiftly got to her overly long legs - reaching the height over few of the males who surrounded them. As quickly as she could, her head flew down to Rokk's scruff like a swallow chasing a fly and suddenly bounded out of the cirlce they'd been imprisoned in, allowing her long legs to fully accelerate and carry the two swiftly and gracefully over the long shrubs and bracken that barred her path. The scent of cub now enveloped her scense of smell and she paniced, trying to find the path she'd taken into the territory...hoping to Tor that she would not lose her way and find herself only running deeper into the Balkar lands...Oh Tor help us now...lead my paws back through these wicked lands and back to Deor...I beg of you!
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Post by Captain Z on Jun 30, 2005 15:54:13 GMT -5
[glow=black,2,300]
Ziev managed to smile with Fernlick, as the sikla faemme was discovered by Carcharoth. Rising to all fours once more, he noticed the faemme, a weak figure, she too trembling at thought of the four balkar wolf at hand. Swiping his forepaws at the remainder in the pile of bones, he watched them clutter into the forests. "Very well Fern, its what I'd expect from a lacan. I'm pleased regardless." He said under his breath to the black lacan.
Padding forward, he saw the faemme's worries, that in her eyes, she cared for the little pup more than her own life. "Awh, you've been taking care of this little beast? Isnt that so, sweet, of you." He taunted. "But, do you not see, that this loud mouth of a furball, has gotten you, to where you pray for your life? Not my idea of babysitting now is it." The wolf snarled at the faemme. " And your pack so I hear, are no better at such, babysitting than you are. So who's to save you my friend?"
He turned around, glancing at the first, and then Carcharoth. The lead lacan was eager and restless, and the same feeling flowed through the veins of Ziev. Turning back to the two hostages, he felt his talons glide and grind against the rough terrain beneath him, the urge to use them being restrained to the right moment. Glancing at the faemme, her intentions were clear, as her optics searched her surroundings. Glowling, his lowered his frame, the ivory on his jaws gleaming with the piercing rays of Fenris. Don't be a fool, my wolf know these lands better than even Tor would. Pray for a miracle, sikla... He said, noting her flee with the little beast clamped between her jaws. He nodded to the First. "Let our games begin." He said under his breath, yet his quick fours took him a different directiong that the path of the fleeing hostages. If they prayed to escape, they would head to the nearest edge of the forest and out to the borders. Yet, the map in his mind was subconcious, and he would stop them before they even left the treeline. "No pack, no goddess of yours will save you from the savage jaws of me and the wolf next to me."[/glow]
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Post by Carcharoth on Jul 2, 2005 10:39:15 GMT -5
The deep charcoal male had been so engrossed inn his plans for play, that when Lufian took to her long legs and fleed with the young cub securely held in her trembling maw, he didn't even notice till a ray of golden sunlight blinded his sight and he hobbled back snarling and blinking furiously, only to look down and see her no longer there. A savage snarl now whipped aross his muzzle and he watched as the tail of Ziev disapeared through brush that was further from where Lufian had left, leaving Carcharoth slightly puzzled at his actions. Though Ziev had been a member longer than himself and knew the lands even better...and soon he realised the Second's tactics. Growling deeply he swung his muzzle to the skies and let his battle song commence over the lands, a deep booming tone that writhes the dead trees and forced them to quiver with fear. The Lead Lacan was out for the taste of blood; varg's blood.
His heaving bulk soon bounded out across the clearing and, taking Lufian's course rather than Ziev's, his ebon limbs cycled furiously beneath his shifting bodice, loose skin rippling as the air he broke through streaked over it. His rose pink tongue lolled at the side of his maw as rubbery lips were pulled back into a gruesome snarl. "Little sikla...you have no hope now..." he growled savagely to himself as he lept over log and bush in every attempt to catch up with his speedy pray. Though Carcharoth was far larger than Lufian and his muscles were richer, she had the power of long legs and light body-weight. With this knowledge in mind, the ebon male knew she had a good cahnce of out-running most Balkar in the lands...as most were bulky and strong; made for the kill, not the chase.
Though soon her scent came into contact with his moist nasal and his speed picked up slightly, muscles now on fire as his paws were beginning to grow numb from the furious pounding against hard, dry earth. A fleeting flash of her tail as it jolted another corner caught his eye and his snarl twisted into a wry grin as he persued. "Eye spy with my only eye..."
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Post by Serg on Jul 4, 2005 7:16:19 GMT -5
Serg had lifted his head and was so engrossed in the pleasureable thouht of torturing and killing these two captives, that he only noticed their disappearance as the tail of Lufian was the only thing he could see, shooting through the circle of slavering Balkar with Rokk in her mouth, both being propelled onwards by Lufians long legs. he snarled and snapped in anger. his amber eyes noted that Ziev had run off in a different direction. whereas Carcharoth had taken to directly following the faemme. although he too, like Ziev, knew the lands here well, he knew that the sikla would know that something was up if too few of them did not follow directly on her heels.
joining his own howl to Carcharoth's, Serg plunged after the sikla and the pup. he too was not built for the chase, he could not run at a great speed - definately not the speed that the sikla and her long legs could run at - but he did have stamina to run for long distances if need called for it. however the long treks from Sarnes to the Balkar were doing nothing for his energy, but he had decided he would run till his legs dropped off if the need called for it. determination flooding his features, Serg sped on, weaving through the trees, and whenever the tail of Lufian came into sight, his amber eyes locked onto it, refusing to let it out of his vision.
they could not let these two get away, would not. and now they would pleasure even more in their deaths, and Serg would revell in the taste of their blood that he was now hungering for beyond all else. they would regain their prize. but, could the long legged sikla keep ahead of the Balkar for long enough for she and the cub to escape?
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Rokk
Sikla
High Warrior of Deor
There was something calling me, to negativity.
Posts: 251
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Post by Rokk on Jul 26, 2005 13:14:02 GMT -5
Rokk quivered, they had ways to make him run? he did not want to imagine what the First would do to make him run. probably inflict more pain than his leg would give him already if he tried to run. Rokk gulped and looked at the ;arge black wolf before him. normally Rokk prided himself on being able to stare boldly into another's eyes, wanting to make them angry. but, he dared not with the First. he did not want to make this wolf angry.
Rokk whimpered as he realised what Serg said was true. Deor wasnt as strong as other packs. they couldnt save him and Lufian. and he couldnt save himself, or the sikla. he was only a pup. and he highly doubted Lufian would have the bottle to do anything.
but as Rokk felt gentle jaws clamp down about his scruff he found himself proved wrong. he glanced up at Lufian in surprise. she was going to get them both killed! however, Rokk felt a rush of adrenaline, yet now they both had a chance of living. he had instinctively fell limp and swayed in her jaws. he marvelled at the speed her overly long legs managed to accerate to. now they really had a fighting chance.
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Lufian
Sikla
Fennie's Munchkin
The Sikla is what I am...Do not try to change me
Posts: 113
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Post by Lufian on Jul 26, 2005 13:46:10 GMT -5
*Lufian's legs felt like they were ready to burn as she pushed her light weight bodice through the thick, Balkan brush; her tassel streaking out behind her. The heart of gold within her heaving chest accelerated as her speed increased, adreneline and fear pushing her on further and faster. For a time it felt as though she'd lost them, their savage snarls and howls passing into non-existence. However soon it became apparent that these develish vargs would stop at nothing to tare these two innocent youths apart and get their blood-wish. The metaphorical breathe of them could be felt heating up the back of her heels as she ran on, though in truth they were still a relative distance behind her. Her long limbs were swift and nimble and carried her on at an unbareable pace.
On reaching a large fallen tree, Lufian whined pitifully as she continued at full speed towards it, judging it's size and if it were possible for a clean jump over it, preventing her form slowing down and losing the momentum she'd managed to build up over the quick dash from the Meeting Area. Though as she gained distance on it she knew that it was simply far too large for a clean leap and with a quick movement she leapt into the air and scrabbled insanely at the rough bark that had once helped keep the old oak alive and sturdy. Her claws dug deep and her burning limbs worked furoiusly to haul herself over it. It took work, but eventually she'd managed to clamber to it's hight and bounded off with a powerful leap, whining as she hit the ground hard and carried on the chase, pain shooting through her four legs as they continued her cycling course..*
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Post by Serg on Aug 1, 2005 17:08:23 GMT -5
muscles contracted and relaxed as the immense midnight Dragga ran after the long-legged sikla that was speeding away with Fernlick’s prize. Silently Serg cursed the fact that Fern did not put the wretched runt out of her misery before he dragged the injured whelp to their lands. That way they would all have had their fun, without this tiring chase and extra trouble. For all their strengths they had but one weakness – getting carried away with their pleasurable thoughts of torture.
Frustrated Serg let out a piercing loud howl, a warning to the fugitive ahead. They would catch her, and if they didn’t, perhaps Deor might get paid a visit from himself, and a few selected members whom the First decreed worthy to go. For there was no way that Serg would allow his pack to fail, or to let any varg escape from them unscathed, or drag their pride through the mud without him inflicting horrendously bitter-sweet revenge.
Serg’s livid ochre eyes spotted a scrawny grey streak of wispy fur clambering up a fallen tree trunk and he let out another triumphant howl from his coal-stained muzzle, he had his prey in sight, and he was not intending to let the sikla run away with the pup. He could never allow that to happen. Now he had her in his sights, a sick and twisted smile overtook his features, his tiring limbs sending ignored screams of weariness to his brain were forced to speed up. As she slowed down, he sped up, shortening the distance between them. Upon reaching the fallen log Serg took a mighty leap. His claws renting deep wounds in the rotting flesh of the timber and pushing his black bulk onwards. Continuing with his relentless pace after the faemme.
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