Pride
Newborn
"The desires of an individual, confined to a finite space within an infinite cycle."
Posts: 73
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Post by Pride on Aug 23, 2015 20:42:44 GMT -5
A great hush fell over the Wastes like fog, breathless and soundless. Sirus slid through the skeletal remains of trees, paws never once breaking the silence. For an age it seemed he had wandered through the forests, always lingering on the edges of society, yet still he walked on— purposeless and hollow— hunting ceaselessly. He moved like a shadow across the lands which he had travelled, haunting their denizens like a ghost in the dark. They fascinated him, and even from his far-removed perspective, he couldn't help but feel a strange urge to reach out to them. Their thoughts, their movements, their words, streaking like snow flurries across his mind. The agony of others reached out to him, but never touched him. Instead they had struck him with a rapt fascination that was simultaneously both sadistic and pitying.
They struck like lightening across the clear sky of his mind, both vexing and spellbinding. How could he do anything but seek them out again? Their hope and naivety, their spite and cruelty— they were perfect reflections of the world in which they lived. How many times had he watched some mourning she-wolf cry for her dead pups and wondered what it must feel like? He had watched the world like some greater being, existing in a perpetual state of detachment— perfectly under control and utterly alone. Slowly this idea began to taste like ash on his tongue, driving him with some fathomless hunger to seek out others of his kind. That was what had brought him here, to this valley, and to the waste that had been carved like a gaping wound across it.
He sought out this pack in particular due to its newness. The relationships there, at least the majority of them, were still tenuous and fluid. Their rules and rituals still semisolid— new. This was pleasing. The idea of being a part of something that was new struck deep, satisfying chords within him, and he was lured to it with the same dizzying attraction. There had always been something so tumultuously graceful about it, and for some reason, he found himself inevitably drawn to the concept of something that had just been created. In many ways, it was like fresh clay that had just been dug up from some deep well in the earth, and he had always been only too eager to mold.
The scent of other wolves was rich and heady here, alerting him to the fact that he had reached the border. He tilted his head up, mouth cut back into an ugly gash. His pelt shimmered like snow under the night sky, lending some horrible contrast to the vicious marks that burned his face. Even outside of the simple fact that the deformity was an aberration, there seemed to be something so twisted about the elements that came into play. For, in spite of his twisted appearance, he moved with poise; every step slow and hypnotic. Each motion seemed expertly designed to distract and beguile, like the languid coils of a snake. Sirus seemed to stand in direct defiance to all that was natural, and for that reason alone he was unnerving.
With a deep inhale, he howled. The call seemed metallic in the warm Spring air, cutting like a scourge through his otherwise-quiet surroundings.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Aug 23, 2015 21:16:24 GMT -5
Fjord was patrolling. His paws hardly touched the soil as he skimmed alive the earth. His thick white pelt streamed out behind him in a blur through the deceased trees. A blur of pure white in the mottled wasteland he now called home. His red eyes were narrowed against the fog that lingered here at dawn. The sun was up, but its rays were not strong enough to pierce the ghostly veil that lay upon his territory. You could only tell it was day by the opaque whiteness if the mist around him. The condensation lay like a cold blanket against his fur as he pushed through it, it's clean scent contrasting greatly with the potent musk of his border. Fjord skidded to a halt, his paws crunching through the dry layer of soul, snd giving way to a puddle of thick, viscous mud. Fjord stepped out of the liquid slowly, enjoying the unique dirty feeling that felt ominously like blood. Sadly, it was not the same.
Fjord was violently ripped from his own world in the middle of marking the gnarled, dead oak tree by which the puddle has grown to exist, by a ghostly, soul piercing howl. At first his crimson eyes widened, but then they narrowed to slits. Who was this wolf that roamed along the borders of his land? Was it a new recruit such as the shewolf Tanali that had shortly joined a week earlier? Or was it some wolf from another pack, here to seek an ally? Well, the latter would not be accepted, Midnight Silence had made to many truces as it were, no more vouchers would be given. The great white alpha left the tree, freshly marked, drenched in his scent. He left it to seek out this newcomer, to see what he wished if him.
Fjord oddly felt like a genie. One that was to be called on. When he had first found the ambition to become an Alpha, he had thought that he would be free to do as he liked, whenever he liked. But now, he knew this was not so. He was tied down to his territory, forever bound by the authority that would cling to his pelt for eternity. Fjord's word was if course the law if the land here, yet he felt that he was a prisoner. Once again Fjord was jerked from his own deep thoughts. The howl.
Fjord once again ran through the skeletal trees, weaving around the stumps, leaping over fallen logs and under low hanging branches. At last he saw him. He was a spectral white wolf with lank fur that seemed to buoy itself in the fog around him, and across the side of his face was a horrendous scar that seemed to be his flesh actively decaying off of his bones. Fjord barked to announce his presence, he being still aways off. "You have called for an audience with me. What do you wish of me?" Fjord barked, a snarl in his voice, announcing that if he was not here for a valid reason, he should leave now, or never leave this place alive. Fjord spent no time wasting time with poetic words or extended enquiries. He said what he meant, and the wolf he was conversing with should be integral is as well.
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Pride
Newborn
"The desires of an individual, confined to a finite space within an infinite cycle."
Posts: 73
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Post by Pride on Aug 23, 2015 22:17:42 GMT -5
Sirus turned when he heard the quick, warning-bark that he knew announced the presence of another of his kind. Jade eyes met blood red, and he studied this stranger for a moment, immediately recognizing him as an alpha merely by the way he stood. His own stance was non-agressive and calm, his face expressionless. He considered this question briefly, aware of the fact that it was traditional to offer one's strengths to the pack when requesting membership. This pack, he knew, expected him to kill mercilessly and brutally. He could accomplish both of these things, of course. Physical violence had never been beyond him, though he would freely admit that he preferred psychological weapons to those of brute and shameless force. After all, were these not more proficient? Pain could be caused by physical torture, but what was it in comparison to the anguish that could result from mental tactics of the same nature? Memories and sorrows could well up like blood from broken teeth— all it took was precision and intelligence. Everyone had a weakness, some fatal flaw that was intrinsic to their design and could be exploited. With the right words, another wolf could be picked apart like maggots picked apart carrion, and they could even be made to enjoy the decay.
"My name is Sirus, I have come to request membership into your pack," his voice had a rich, smooth timbre to it as he replied. Lack of experience made him unsure of the general demeanor of this wolf, but he could still gather collect enough clues from the way he spoke. Aggressive, protective, yes, and perhaps even slightly frustrated, though with what Sirus did not know. He structured his words carefully around what he saw, adapting rapidly to the situation. "I have strengths to offer that would prove useful to you and Midnight Silence." It was not an empty offer. There were things which he excelled int hat could prove quite useful in a group setting, though what he specialized in was the finer points of control and influence. Even with kindhearted wolves, there always existed a subconscious pull towards the dark. It was in this attraction that he thrived, a great white spider sitting upon a web, pulling and weaving threads as he liked to either attract or repel others. The only true ecstasy he had ever felt could be found beneath he flesh of others. It existed in their darkest secrets and most intimate memories. And, in the taking of them, he had been selfish as only something acting on pure instinct could be selfish. A natural force of destruction— slick, cutting, and consuming.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Aug 30, 2015 9:02:05 GMT -5
Fjord surveyed this ghostly apparition. He was silent, thoughtful, ambitious, cold. He seemed indifferent to him. Neither submissive, nor dominant. The mighty white and crimson wolf wondered if he was to be his gamma. Fjord doubted that he could strike enough fear into the hearts of rule breakers. Sure he was a bit odd and mysterious, but he didnt seem ferocious. But then again, perhaps his unnerving silence, and soul piercing stare would be enough, especially with some muscle to back him up. At that moment he thought of Tanali. Fjord wondered if she would prove herself to be ruthless. Maybe then her strength combined with his ghostly eeriness would make a good team as Gamma's.
Snapping his thoughts back to the situation were Sirius's words. They were very bland and vague and Fjord couldn't help but bristle. "Indulge me a moment: Are you a swift efficient killer? Or are you perhaps a cunning, ruthless wolf that kills only by necessity? Are you capable of punishing any wrong doer with wounds of pain, not death? Are you a skilled hunter?" His questions spilled from his maw in a hiss, his scarlet eyes narrow and appraising.
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Pride
Newborn
"The desires of an individual, confined to a finite space within an infinite cycle."
Posts: 73
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Post by Pride on Aug 30, 2015 19:11:49 GMT -5
Sirus stood still, lapsing into a heavy silence as he was studied. He kept his pale eyes fixed upon the alpha of Midnight Silence, his expression unfathomable. The peridot that washed down his sides was turned noxious green by the murky light of the barrens, the exposed flesh on the side of his face shimmering dully. He watched as the fur across Fjord's spine rippled, apparently unsatisfied with Sirus's response, and made note of the curious reaction. This wolf appreciated directness; an interesting trait in an alpha. Most leaders kept their distance by wrapping everything that they said in a layer of ambiguity, but he found the stark contrast that this particular wolf provided to be intriguing. Did the rest of the pack share their alpha's straightforwardness? If they did, then this would no doubt prove to be an interesting endeavor.
When he spoke next it was a series of questions, no doubt aimed to decipher just exactly what he was beneath the silence. Sirus inclined his head as he listened, the sharp tone of the inquiries alerting him to the fact that there was likely an ulterior motive behind them. "I kill when necessary, I inflict pain when others who have stepped out of line deserve such, and I have lived as a loner for years— the fact that I am standing before you, alive and well fed, should attest to my proficiency in hunting," he replied simply, his tone unbroken and crystalline.
However, did he enjoy killing? To him it had always been an action, there were moments of fascination, and perhaps even some of something more primal, but he wasn't sure he would label it as enjoyment. At least, not in the traditional sense. Then again, there was a thin line between a fascination with suffering and sadism, was there not? There were moments when it could be exhilarating, tugging insistently at some deep, primal part of his mind. The expressions, the noises, the pain— there was something intoxicating about the process. But, the simple act in and of itself was not enough. He needed more. There had to be more. Some sort of mental anguish to sharpen and accentuate its physical counterpart. Without it, torture seemed so very... impersonal. However, with everything else in place, he had seen his enjoyment of it through the eyes of others. Their revulsion with the pleasure etched across his usually passive face, even when he himself had remained unaware of its existence. So, did he enjoy killing?
Perhaps.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Aug 30, 2015 19:29:12 GMT -5
Fjord stopped his pacing, blood red paws halting, claws digging into a thin layer of peat moss. This made the ground springy, making those walking across it feel slightly weightless, as if in a relative dreamscape where nothing was really as it seemed. This Sirius seemed to fit right in with the scene, though his billowy white coat was a stark comparison to the harsh edges and dull, mottled hues of the barrens. The great alpha cocked his head to the side slightly, shifting his stance so that his forelegs were splayed widely, showing off his vital underbelly. This was a gesture to say that Fjord was growing accustomed to his presence, yet didnt trust him completely. Who would, after all, trust a specter they had only just met? Daria would. His lip curled in amusement at the thought. The air was heavy and humid, small drops if crystalline droplets formed on his hairs. Fjords power mark glowed a harsh cyan as the dew froze into jagged spikes of frost. His power mark faded to black and his heart beat slowed from the racing pace if before.
Fjord flicked his ears in a rough survey of the area around him, he should always be aware if his surroundings, even when a wolf claimed to be alone. Fjord nodded slightly at the newcomers words. The alpha huffed slightly at the hint of snarky-ness in his words about hunting. His jaws cracked open, revealing his gleaming white, lethal fangs. "You seem capable enough, though one might wonder if you truly are fit to join." His voice came out silkily, yet full of distrust. This wolf was very perceptive, so he didnt bother hiding any emotions. Besides, Sirius should know that he had to earn his trust, he did not simply toss it to and fro like the bauve Alphess Piala of Eyernal Snowfall. He scoffed, the sound hardly audible. "You will now be known as Brother Sirius of Midnight Silence. You will hold the rank if subordinate until proven worthy if higher." Fjord barked sharply, decisively. He trotted up the hill and turned at the crest, to look back upon his member. "Are you coming or not? Brother?"
-exit Fjord- ((Welcome to the pack!!!))
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Pride
Newborn
"The desires of an individual, confined to a finite space within an infinite cycle."
Posts: 73
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Post by Pride on Aug 30, 2015 19:58:15 GMT -5
The alpha came to a halt before him, his searching gaze seeming to intensify tenfold for a moment before seeming to reach a decision. His posture suddenly shifted, taking on a slightly more lax stance. Sirus, himself, did not move— an ice sculpture amidst the wastelands. He had come here expecting to be put through the gauntlet in order to earn the trust of the others, a challenge that did not phase him in the slightest. If he was to be tested, then so be it. He was confident in his ability to survive. He was not an arrogant wolf, but nor was he humble— both traits, from his perspective, had always been useless hinderances that typically led to the downfall of the wolf who was possessed of them. He simply knew what he was capable of, and nothing more. What was the point of exaggerating or understating one's own abilities to appease the crowd? Sirus had never been one to play into social dogma, and he saw no reason fit enough to cause him to change that outlook.
He flicked his ears at the Alpha's challenge as to whether or not he was truly worthy, acknowledging but not replying. There was no point in a response, he would prove that he was worthy of contributing to a greater collective with something more substantial than words. His air of silence had often been mistaken for complacency, but those who had chosen that approach with him usually found it to be their very last. Speech was pretty, but under most circumstances it proved quite useless. Physicality was a much more appealing language, and words could not cover even half of its breadth.
"Are you coming or not? Brother?"
Sirus moved, his stride unnaturally graceful for his size as he followed his new Alpha up the hill, and to whatever lay beyond.
-Exit Sirus-
[[Thank you! Time for Sirus to go prove himself. ^ ^]]
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