Depression, he said, let the rain pummel the earth

[Roanoke]

The sky swelled with darkened clouds and the air had an electric edge to it. Black paws gripped the soft, needle covered earth, pulling the rest of his black pelted body forward. Why do I even bother? The thoughts rippled through his crammed cranium, making way for even worse migraines. The ebon hued demon just sighed and pushed the pain aside. For some reason Roa liked pain, it was a constant reminder that he was alive.

Milky eyes gazed aimlessly into the pine’s darkness, his slated colored nosed picked up nothing from the air. Nothing but the scent of the coming rain. His heart was heavy sitting in his furry chest. Roanoke had no tricks to play for he knew no one, not a single varg had growled or even cared to look at the crazed mann. Ahh what a sweet heart ach, with no one to care, no one to hate, Roanoke had not a single means of existence. No battles to win, to scores to settle, or even blood lust cravings to ceases. Nothing. Beautiful, I’m just a useless tool going dull in a human’s shed. The sky had had enough, and it seemed to feel Roa’s depression. Its reaction was to poor down, hard. Rain pummeled the earth and the mann that stood still, with out intentions of moving.

Ivory eyes glazed over as the simple demon gazed up at the sky. What time of day was it, he couldn't guess with the clouds so thick, and his inner clock so disoriented, Roa could not make out anything. Thunder clapped as the sky seemed to scream in the over whelming pain of sadness. What was the mann to do now. He had no home, he knew none, no was he in any mood to meet a fellow varg. Knowing him he would end up acting lick a wolf that was too big for his britches. The English demon laughed inwardly at how well he knew himself.

[Archita]

Archita pounced under on tree to another. The rain falling from the angry clouds above her. She really was trying not to soak her red pelt. I'm cold and Frightened! Of course If you really knew Archita you could tell that she wasn't really scared of rain. But otherwise weird dark things that were hard to make out. Weather was the only thing she couldn't control. After jumping around in the wetness so much. Her coat was a few pounds heavier. It draped from her thin stomach. Her ribs were now buried under the dampness. It was hard to take. She didn't think her coal colored toothpick legs would hold. Eyes fully wet and full of carelessness. Archita had given up.

While she scampered around lazily, it was hard to tell what was what. And she was often banging into trees and objects around her. Normally someone would just stand still and wait for the downpour to wear off. But she was foolish enough to keep going. Look, if you just held still I could catch up with you! And soon you will bump into something thats not a tree or a plant. See that now, that thing has fur. Don't walk into it, I dare you. Stop. Stop now. I said- Oh shush I've been walking into these things for over and hour okay? 'BANG', this shape wasn't like any of the others indeed. A tree wasn't furry. And had nothing of a structure. A MANN! A fine one too. Yes, quite tall and so fine. She was drooling.

Oh your obsessions! Can't you get over a wet-dog guy? That could be a bear! I'm surprised it hasn't killed you just yet! You are such a foolish one. Running into trouble every second. And I don't feel like running into this right in the middle of a rain storm. You should be telling me this. I know you aren't that stupid. You want me to leave this fine one? Just for you? I'm sorry that won't work. I am Archita. What I have dug my claws into, I will not leave! "Oops." She said to the black varg. In relation to her bumping into him. She watched him intently. Wanting trouble or attention it was hard to tell. Her head was in a whirl like the thunderstorm. [/font]

[Roanoke]

Roanoke, looked down at the soaked shape knocked him, but he didn't move, nothing could move him from his seat, even the famed Fell, could not usurpe his place on the earth. But what lay before his eyes shocked him, An over grown fox, what IS this place, Red wolves, and mutated foxes? The nasty little thought slither through his mind like a snake bathed in oil. Insanity had loosened it's grip on the tall man, so with a composer that fit his origins, Roanoke set his bright milky eyes on the fae. Gentile chords rippled though his voice box and then through his immense toothed jaws, to come out as speech with a soft accent of the highlands of England. If you wanted to knock me down it would demand that use a greater force. His glanced over her with thickly hued eye and continued, And who might you be my dear?
The rain pounded the terra that lay beneath his over sized paws. It drenched his thick pelt that hid a muscular structure. Roa looked away from the fox creature and to the sky, sending a silent pray for a glimpse of the moon. A soft snarl came out of black lips as chaos tried to take over. The pressure to be a gentleman was deafening and the demand was almost unbearable. That soft, almost inaudible snarl was the only hint of the ragging battle over the Western demon's soul.

[Archita]

Archita flattened against the floor at how he looked at her. She most likely didn't seem to look like a varg. Wet, long hair. A Mane Wolf like herself most likely wouldn't be living in these places. What did she look like now? A monster cat? The other varg spoke of her running him over. Thats what she couldn't do. Even though she wasn't trying this was the type you can't just knock over. She glanced up at him again. Was he mocking her? Didn't sound like it. "No, not running you down." She purred. " In fact the, eh...over there said not to run over you. But I didn't listen." She decided that she wasn't finished. "I thought you were a bush though." Archita said truthfully. She had thought he was a tree.

"I can't tell you my name." She said simply, carelessly. Then sunk her claws into the soft bark of a wet tree. "I can know your name-" She rambled on. "First." She said. Pushing off of the tree and splashing back into the wet soil. She shook her wet pelt out. Just to feel a few pounds lighter. She did her best not to shower the mann in the process. How do you act so casual. Do you not see the struggle beneath the guys muzzle, not to just pounce forward and rip out your throat? Your silly as a zilly. I'm gonna make you leave. Poor as a mouse. That is it! I'll chain your tongue! Really. I didn't guess.

No wonder I'm a demon to you. I'm not. I should be the angel. Look who is making all the good choices. And you treat me like- A hot-dog. It don't matter, your me. I'm a hot-dog. Indeed by the time she was looking up, the black varg seemed very hesitant. She could swear by the snarl forming over his lips. She wanted to snarl back but wasn't in the mood. She could run. That would be funny. He didn't know how fast she could run.Not. Tor seemed to be there beside Archita. beaconing the beast towards her. Letting it come closer and closer. And letting it rip her into pieces. Then he would go to the next. But the only thing she could say was. "Knock Knock who's there?"

[Roanoke]

Rain lipped at the midnight demon's fur and sent soft shivers down his long back. Wet clung to his skin like a leech to it's patron, even after Roanoke shook his fur had it still held and the down pour added even more weight to bear down his broad shoulders and wide hips. Long tail hung down too heavy to lift without strain, How pathetic, I can't even lift up my own tail. the mann scolded himself. After the thought he forced his tail up then let it fall back into it's original position, as if he had not moved it at all. Thickly-ed furred ear perked up as the fae spoke, why wouldn't she tell him her name, that irked him but Roanoke keep those thoughts neatly tucked behind his gentleman's mask.

With a quick jerk of his head Roa, placed the pleasant mask back onto his ebony maw, he lips curled back to make a cooked smile that was meant wipe any suspicion from the fae's mind. Milky eyes now inspected the orange fae, inspecting her long, slender legs that faded from a rusty orange to a black that was a darks as his pupils. The mann cleared his throat and spoke in a gentlemanly manner. Roanoke, now I ask again who might you be mistress? Bright lights flashed above his head, his earlier melancholy now has all but disappeared, tucked neatly being still white eyes. Roanoke shifted his weight to his hind paws and rose his head to look straight at Tor, his eyes dancing in her light. How would the fae respond to his western manner? This the mann did not know nor had any idea what he should do if rage again came so close to breaking his hold on the emotion.

forgive me I was filling out college apps I'm sorry it too soo long to reply back