A Parasite Returns

[Arias]

With both the Gods of the sky gone, disappearing with an unknown trace, the abyss above was nothing but turmoil; clouds rolled and writhed aimlessly as the red skies spoke of ill will, thunder and lightning storms now occurring more often than before. The world was now unbalanced…and a sickening evil was beginning to arise.

Beneath the canopy of the black and dying skeletal figures of trees I stalked the lands, aiming for the forbidden and deathly lands of the Balkar pack. It was in my blood to be with this pack, in fact it was now residing within my mind…a mere parasite that had latched onto my soul and had now corrupted my thought and body. Though I never knew my grandfather before he died, it was evident that he had been a well known figure within the vicious all male pack; or so my mother had said.
My short legs cycled endlessly and rhythmically beneath my petit form; though fully grown I have mainly Red Wolf blood flowing through my veins, therefore making me shorter and more lithe than the more common Gray Wolf of this area. With the sudden change in temperature due to the lack of sunlight to heat the lands and the shifting of seasons from summer to autumn, my pelt was beginning to grow thick and coarse once more; changing from a rather beige and ruddy summer pelt into a paler sandy hue.
Fiery ember eyes were ablaze as I scanned the area up ahead. I knew well to be cautious in these lands. No matter if List were allies with the Balkar, I knew all too well of how unpredictable they could be…and how unforgiving their territory was. Last I knew, Ziev was the First of the Balkar and he had been there that day when I’d announced Leohlic’s return. A bitter snarl suddenly flashed my features as I re-lived the humiliation and the loss of my dignity that day. Of course they didn’t believe me, why would they? The idea of such a thing was totally surreal and nothing like this had happened to them during their lifetime. By now the story of The Sight seemed nothing more than a myth, yet after experiencing this I am beginning to have second thoughts; it turns out the world is full of strange things and the unexpected is likely to happen at some point or another.

All of a sudden my legs stopped as a long forgotten memory that was not of my own began to sink into mind, causing my lips to curl back into a sinister grin. A dark and cold chuckle began to shake my chest as I scanned the tree-line before me; the border of the Balkar territory. Taking a few steps forward I scented an unfamiliar, yet familiar, tuft of grass and the powerful masculine odour consumed my senses, making me growl deeply in response, brushy tassel twitching with Leohlic’s sheer eagerness to return. Opening my maw I let out my song, a powerful yet youthful note that called out to my Balkan brothers, letting them know my return; his return.

[Serg]

A dark paw crunched down on a brittle leaf, and sharp dark claws flexed into the soft earth, testing strength, and echoing the restlessness that teased the brutal soul of the owner of this ebon paw and its killer claws.

Serg flicked his bushy black tail mindlessly. After reclaiming his position as First, he had not left pack territory all that much, paranoia and the need to assure his place here had kept him patrolling and present in the pack - a dark stubborn presense that told of his utter refusal to give up his position yet again - although last time he had hardly wanted to. Brushing the thought from his mind before his temper flared yet again, Serg sniffed at the autumn air. His black form relished the darkness that encased the lands, he was so proud of himself for it. However Serg's pride was something that was not that hard to stoke. There was little doubt about it, his ego was something that was getting bigger by the minute, or at least most vargs thought so. Serg let them think what they wished, he certainly didn't care, if they thought that he was too busy thinking about how great he was, let them think that. His real thoughts ran along a much darker path.

The air scented of nothing unusual, just the usual scents swarmed the air. So far, border patrol had picked up nothing more exciting than a pheasant, the winged lera that had, as soon as it became aware of the Dragga's presence, flown off to a safer spot. Not that Serg had been hunting it, he had just eaten.

A howl rang out, downwind from his current position. The charcoal Dragga frowned, as if there was something strange about the howl, and his still form shifted, switching paths from his original direction and padding stealthily towards the source of the racket. Serg might have been a Lacan, and a large and muscular varg at that, but he could move quite quietly for it all the same. Not as silent as a Nihtgenge, but Serg had no desire to hide all too much. It was in his blood to fight, to stand tall and proud, and not to hide in the shadows.

Eyes of broiling flame flickered, as eventually, he reached his goal, and orbs caught onto the form of a small varg, standing at the borders. At least the little runt had sense enough not to cross without permission. One thought laughed at the size of the creature, but another thought - buried further in the deep recesses of Serg's dark mind - whispered words that Serg could not quite catch, only registering them as a niggling feeling of familiarity, which was in a word, strange, because Serg was damned certain he'd never seen this varg before in his life. His scent was alien, and yet increased the niggling familiarity at the same time. Resisting the urge to snort at this particular feeling's stupidity.

Raising his head to a respectable height, Serg padded out of the shadows of the undergrowth, a deep rumbling vibrating deep in his throat. Stopping just short of the youth, Serg looked down upon him, his fiery gaze boring into him before he even thought about saying a word. "And what does one such as yourself seek on the borders of the Balkar's lands?" He growled finally.

[Arias]

Silence followed my call, and I remained still with my auds erect and my sense finely tuned and ready for any unwanted or unannounced attack. Excitement and anticipation took over my thoughts, suddenly the concept of fear was thrown aside and I was now just desperate to meet the First and prove to him that he was back, for maybe this brutal beast might actually believe me, where my mother and pack had simply shunned the idea to the side with amusement. Suddenly the concept came to me that my hopes would be shattered by the mere fact that Ziev was still at the height of this pack, and my heart sank with the passing thought, a growl tickling my throat as anger rose once more.

I had little time however to dwell on these thoughts as a large brute emerged from the shadows, almost seeming as though he himself were made of them. I started more a moment, taking a slight step back and rising my hackles as instinct instructed, I bore my fangs at the beast. Yet Leohlic scolded me, taking control of my actions once more and swiftly replacing the snarl with a toothy grin, malice flashing within my fiery orbs as he took over.
I looked into then past the Balkar’s lantern orbs, showing as much respect as Leohlic would dare let me, listening to his unearthly voice as he asked me that foreboding question. A dark chuckle suddenly escaped my throat at the thought of how I could answer him, though I lingered not long on my amusement and went straight to the right reply. “Me? Well dear Serg…I am simply returning to where I belong,” I growled, my voice suddenly harsh and old. I myself had no idea who this brute was, and yet he was almost very familiar…memories that were not my own were faint and few yet this varg was amongst them…and his name was included.

(rotten.)

[Serg]

the youth started, a snarl flashing across its muzzle before a toothy grin hurriedly took its place. Serg made no change in his facial expressions, his face was a blank canvas of emotion, only his eyes danced with a fiery light that warned of a coiled spring that might explode in a flrry of tooth and claw at any moment if the occasion called for a fight - or in this youth's case, a quick execution.

His reply to the question was, not as satisfactory as Serg might have hoped - the fact that the youth knew his name meant little to Serg, his description could be told from many vargs who knew him. What niggled him most however, was how the little sprite knew that it was Serg, and not Ziev. Apart from the fact that Serg stood at a much taller height than Ziev, and they had different eye colours, different mannerisms, different personalities. They were both black wolves, and as far as Serg knew, very few knew about Serg's return to power, even though it was a fact he was making sure was broadcasted as much as possible.

The fact that the youth said he was returning bugged Serg too. The youth looked only just old enough to join the ranks, if he had joined earlier, and then left for some strange reason, Serg wouldn't want a flight-risk in his ranks. Maybe the youth had left for a good reason, maybe it was Ziev's fault, for being a coward. Although the coward shouldn't have allowed a youth any younger than this one into the pack. Pushing aside all these possible theories, and not allowing any others to take flight in his dark mind. The youth's voice belied his age, seeing him as older, and his tones were harsher, as if they had more experience than could ever be possible at the pup's age.

Serg grunted. "Return? As far as I am aware, if you were previously a member of the Night Hunter's ranks, to leave would be considering deserting, and we do not appreciate vargs taking the oath light-heartedly. Although for Ziev to allow you in if you were even younger than you are now.. well, that would have been extremely stupid and careless of him." Serg took a menacing step forward. "Unless you have been trespassing. Boy, saying that you believe you belong in a pack will not make me grant you access, and hinting that you have been here before will only serve to raise my suspicions. Give me a reason not to snap your neck now, and then we shall talk about whether or not I will allow you to join my ranks." Serg snarled, black tail flickered behind him.

ooc- i need to get back into posting properly.

[Arias]

I observed the beast, watched the cogs inside his brain working over time as he assessed the situation and the little runt – which was I – who stood before him. It was almost entertainment to Leohlic, as inside my head all I could hear was a distinct chuckle; cold and menacing. At last the brute replied to my answer, taking the logical course of thought that I was nothing more than a pathetic runt that had somehow wheedled my way into the pack’s border during the reign of Ziev and run from them in a cowardice manner. To think anything other than logic was too much for most varg, but powers beyond thought existed…I was simple proof of it.
Snorting in retort to his accusation, Leohlic suddenly took a sharp hold of my mind and began to control my movements; I was no longer Arias, I was in fact Leohlic. The distance between us had been shortened thanks to Serg’s bold step towards me, but now Leohlic closed it even more so by flicking my tail sharply and taking two of my own smaller steps towards the monster. Looking now directly upwards into the brute’s malicious features, I growled deeply and frowned, my voice once more contorting to sound older and hoarser than my own natural vocals. “If I had a chance to die, I would have laughed in the face of Wolfbane and continued my tormented life if only to put a grievance on those who wanted me dead Serg,” he spoke through me, almost spitting in the face of the First now. My own locked up mind was quivering with both terror and excitement now. The former First was treading a very thin line between life and death now, and just because he had felt death’s tightening grip before he was no longer afraid, I had my whole life ahead of me and so far…it seemed like it was going to be a short one. “A good enough reason for you not to tear my head from my shoulders right now eh? How about the knowledge that I, Leohlic, have returned to walk amongst the Balkar once more. Is that satisfactory enough for you?” he ended, allowing my fighting mind to break through only a fraction enough for me to regain the control to shift backwards and away from those threatening jaws.

(apologies for lateness. also, it's been a while since I RPed, so it's not the best quality)

[Serg]

Serg's brow raised ever so slightly, a deep grumble escaped from his blackened maw as the runt moved closer. Lips bared to reveal sharp white fangs that glistened with the presense of death and destruction. Then the youngster spoke, and it was a strange voice of another, either that, or he was making fun. An extremely foolish thing to do to a varg with a known short temper.

having said his piece though, the runt stumbled backwards, leaving Serg to ponder the strange words that had tumbled out of his mouth.

Growling, Serg stepped forward. "A good enough reason not to tear your head off? No, I think not. All I have is a dropped name and your say-so on a ridiculous idea." Serg licked his lips, really thinking about tearing this troublesome runt's head off. His arrogance and ill-manners had irked him. But there was one more question to ask. "But tell me runt, where did you hear that name? Some old varg telling tales of an old First of the Balkar? And perhaps you thought, quite rightly, your pathetic self would not be worthy of a place within the Night Hunter's ranks. A fool are you though, to come here and claim such an unbelievable story, and expect me to believe your every word, simply on your say so!" Serg growled, his amber eyes flashing dangerously. "No solid proof? Nothing but a name?" The great brute mocked. Then he laughed. "At least you brought me proof of something, proof that youngsters today are only getting less intelligent."

(short, but i really ran out of muse on this one)