Shadowbane
Cub
Destiny. What is Destiny?
Posts: 36
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Post by Shadowbane on Jan 1, 2006 20:50:09 GMT -5
“This is crazy.” A low growling voice rumbled from the gloom. “It's suicide.” Inside the dark shadow something shifted, two orbs of fire suddenly appeared, seeming to float. “I will be able to show him here, show Him I am strong. I will fight without fear or mercy hear, and they will teach me.” Slowly, prowling from the dimness came the form of a young Dragga. He was more or less a pup, but the blazing anger in his eyes seemed to belong to an adult. He raised his snout, lips drawing back. “This is not where you belong, you do not want to become like Him!” He snarled back at himself. This was not unusual for him, but it wasn't normal either. He had been alone for so long now his mind became the only voice he could speak too. “Maybe this is what is suppose to be. Destiny. He was my father, he wanted me to fight. Like him.” But the voice in his mind remained still and silent, so he began his trek once more in search of a Balkar member and ask if he may join their ranks. As the black and red hued wolf wondered, not far behind him he heard a rustle. Immediately his gate stiffened and hackles rose. He walked with greater care, straining to here if something was actually following him. Crunch Yes, there it was. By now his tassel raised, eyes peering from side to side. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. 'Someone's there.' The shock of hearing his own mind speaking made the young Dragga whip around with a wild snarl. “I know, I know.” He mumbled dryly, once more raising his muzzle as he prepared to speak to the other following him, or if anyone was there. “Please leave the shadow stranger. I ask Tratto's Blessing into the Night Hunter's Realm.” He then watched and waited for a reply.
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Post by Serg on Jan 2, 2006 7:20:01 GMT -5
moving up the slope large black paws housing sharpest of claws made the snow compact beneath them in a series of rhythmic crunching sounds. he had no need or want to be quiet here. the large muscular wolf strode up the hill, head lowered and smouldering amber eyes searching for one place alone, a place he knew of, concealed and a sanctuary for solitude, a place where he could rest himself and finally get some time alone to think.
the great black Dragga cared nothing much about anything more right now. patrolling his borders had become a tiring monotous chore, and he had just finished such a thing in the lands of Sarnes. he had only just left those lands. the looming war between his packs, Deor and GeRad making him more wary of his borders, and his time spent in each packland became shorter and shorter, his sleeping patterns shifted and his paranoia growing. they could attack any day now, and when they came, Serg would be ready for them. they would find him ready and waiting, two packs behind him. and Cwen woudl feel his teeth before the end for her treachery.
a quiet muttering made Serg cock an ear. maybe it was one of his. listening more intently now at the alien tones Serg's lip curled, abring sharp white teeth, stark in relief to his jet-black coat. no, this was no one he knew. settling down the deep rumble that threatened to rise up in him to emerge as a growl, Serg stopped. no, he had been making too much noise. cursing himself, he pushed his way through a bush, intending the rustling noise and the following crunching steps to alert this wary trespasser to a presense. but the black wolf did not intend to come at him from this side, no, he wanted to give this one a fright. smiling wickedly Serg backtracked silently. surprising stealth for one of his bulk. and slowly and silently he made his way around this wolf. creeping up slowly, now he was where the wolf was originally heading, but he was now facing the other way. smiling Serg prowled closer still.
'and why would you wish to ask Tratto's Blessing into my realm?' he growled.
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Post by Carcharoth on Jan 3, 2006 15:29:53 GMT -5
Laying on a protruding rock that was now bare of snow, the massive bulk of a Balkan male rested. His sturdy hind limbs hung limply off the edge and his forelegs lay before him, his large skull resting limply apon each of them. A deep rumbling growl escaped his muzzle as a flurry of white mist that merely held itself in the air amongst the rest of the Balkan's fog. Grunting, the enormous beast shifted his position until he was once again comfortable, his one good emerald green eye staring lazily out around the clearing in which he dozed in, the other - resembling the great milky orb of Tor above - stared out with it, blind to everything it toughed. Often standing to attention, his single ear was layed back in a relaxed fashion, as the other ear did not exist and was a mere tuft of ruffled fur. He was on a break from scouting the Balkan borders, and was lavishing every moment of it.
A gentle breeze stirred the fog and created mystical swirling patterns around him. Captivated as Tor's pale light shimmered off the water particles, he gazed for a while, flicking his single aud in quiet thought. But within an instant his nasal twitched and his head and ear perked up. Gazing out in the direction from which the wind had blown, Carcharoth frowned and let a deep growl pass through his throat. One scent that was carried, along with that of his First, was not familiar to him. The breeze had been too gentle to carry these scents from beyond the boundaries, this varg must had penetrated it.
His white flecked lips curled back into an agrivated snarl as he, with great effort, pulled his massive bulk onto his sturdy limbs and leapt off the rock, landing heavily into the snow drift. Clambering out from the compact powder, he began to run through the dying vegetation, making far more noise than needed as he was not a light weight Nihgtene as Lheaht was. He was a Lacan, built to fight, not to slink silently in the shadows. Though as the scent began to grow thicker, he slowed himself and took far more tender steps in hope to cause little attention to his whereabouts. Though voices caught his attention immediatly and he stopped, peering through the branches to see Serg standing behind a young male, authority pouring out of his First's voice.
Chuckling coldly to himself, Carcharoth continued on, knowing now that the youngster would be focussing too much on the First's own actions to even hear him make a rustle in the brush. So working his way round to the youth's back end, he emerged slowly from the bracken, nodding silently to Serg but hoping that he would not give the game away, and crept up behind the young male. Making now noise but simply sitting heavily onto his haunches, Carcharoth then gave out a low growl and curled his lips up into a sneering grin. This pup's path...had now been blocked.
((Hope you don't mind me joining in on this..))
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Shadowbane
Cub
Destiny. What is Destiny?
Posts: 36
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Post by Shadowbane on Jan 8, 2006 0:28:16 GMT -5
Shadowbane felt his heart leap in surprise as a low cunning voice spoke behind him, the bold and powerful tone told him that this was the Varg he wished to meet. The first of the Balkar.
Slowly he turned, gazing up at the black figure before him, having to crane his neck back to look up at the wolf's head. Once more he felt the uneasiness of being smaller than another. Rising himself to his full height Shadowbane spoke, clear and calm; "No sikla here, no breath of fear." He whispered, dipping his head in respect. "I come here in hopes of having the honor to join you pack, if I am worthy enough." He growled, returning his burning amber stare back to the Dragga. He could see the scars that stood out a pale silver hue in his heavy dark pelt, Shadowbane looked at then, pondering what stories they may wield.
As he stood there the young Mann's hackles stirred, slowly his head turning in the direction in which he felt the sudden feeling of another watching him. It did not take long for him to make out two floating orbs in the entangled brambles and shadow. Shadowbane smirked, he knew he was now blocked from any escape without killing himself. But they would do what they wished with him, and he showed to sign of fear.
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