|
|
Post by Bengal Brat on Sept 21, 2008 16:20:53 GMT -5
The massive redish-brown body of Shanook slipped easily through the territories of neighboring wolves until he sat just inside the southern border of Tazenda Cove. Head and tail was held high as a sign of great rank, but his body language in itself was not what one could consider a threat to the alpha of these lands--at all. Big, hard muscles rippled as the alpha of Benstripe Woods sat down and lifted his head to point his muzzle at the sky. Lips formed into the shape of an 'O' and he let out a low howl, no doubt calling for Morphine. He had a proposition that the brute would hardly be able to refuse. |
|
|
|
Post by Locura on Sept 25, 2008 16:25:42 GMT -5
Morphine. && Let's taste your burning flesh.
OOC -- Sorry for the wait ^^
Word Count -- 936
Dappled sunlight filtered down upon a demon where he rest upon his throne. The oaks and maple's around his pool glowed like fire from the pits of hell as fall engulfed them. Dancing crimson leaves twirled upon the surface of the teal water, causing it to ripple and shimmering in the afternoon sunlight. In the depths of the pool, one could see the tiny silver minnows darting under the various waterfalls that trickled and chimed like bells. The place was beautiful, and even more so when compared to the bringer-of-death which lay at its head. The massive, dark-coated brute held a sinister air. The right side of his pelt was tainted with several scars of various shapes and sizes. Multi-hued eyes were closed in a light sleep, the right one red, the left one yellow. Thick, well equipped jaws rested upon the heavy, dark paws. A tail with its end long cut off and healed wrapped around his thick torso slightly. Chest heaved as the male breathed, his nostrils flaring at regular intervals. All seemed peaceful for such a rare moment in the brute's life. He had nothing to do but rest, and in the quietness of his sleep the rage that burned his limbs had cooled. A smile hinted at the edges of his lips as he dreamed, something rare for someone so accustomed to nightmares.
The dark male sat upon a hill, surveying a large expanse of land that he knew was his. Several hills away faded into forests, and from forests into mountains. A large territory perfect for the king he was. In the dream, the brute was tall, and handsome. Not a scar dared to taint his simmering and silky hide. Bright, sun-yellow eyes gazed out at everything with warmth. His life was perfect; beautiful. A wolf moved up to him, a slim and small female with a coat of shimmering ivory. Her eyes sparkled like diamonds as she rubbed up against him. He smiled at her, a thing his real body could not do. Warmth and love flooded from him as he nuzzled her. Little yaps came from behind him, and suddenly five little pups ran into his view. They were all miniatures of their parents, three dark coated ones and two simmering in white. Joy filled their gaze, as the smiled and played with each other in the long, green grass. Beautiful. The male's heart swelled to the point where he thought it would burst. His life was perfect; wonderful, and amazing. He knew nothing of it being a dream, and believed it to be so with his whole heart. Yet, as it often was for him, dreams changed into nightmares. He heard a howl, and turned around. The scenery changed drastically. Suddenly he was no longer on the green hill. Instead, he was at the auction rock, covered in chains and bleeding wounds. His vision was flashing red, a growl rippling from his throat like thunder. Before him was another wolf. A thick, barrel-chested brute of light grey fur. The other male was covered in crimson waves of blood, and was standing on three legs. His right front leg hung halfway attached to his body, dead. Morphine could taste the male's blood and flesh in his mouth. The salty liquid dribbled down his chin. Suddenly, his legs moved of their own accord. He wanted the fight to end. Now. The male tried to lunge forward, but in his blood lust he forgot about the silk blood-coated chains that held him to the ground. His jaws closed down upon hot air in an audible snap.
A howl broke into the dream. Morphine found himself jerked rather suddenly awake. The dream still playing behind his eyes, he jumped to his feet snarling like a demon. When his vision cleared, he saw where he was. The howl still echoed in his ears. It rang for him clear as a bell. Intruder. Intruder. Tattered eyes swiveled back, and a grimace set itself firmly upon the beast's face. He lunged off his throne, and raced down the rocks on his thick legs. When he reached the grass of the meadow, he took off as fast as he could. Morphine could not run as fast as the average wolf do to his thick legs , yet, he still managed to shake the ground with his stride. He reached the forest and maneuvered through it without hitting a thing. Finally he slowed to a walk, and after heaving a few breaths managed to calm down and look as if he had not run at all. The brute emerged from the shadows, they seemed to pull at his matted coat, like he was truly a demon stepping out of the shadowy fogs of hell. Red and yellow eyes caught sight of the intruder, and glared at him venomously. "Wad da ye 'ant?" He spit out in rumbling tones, and waited for an answer. Ye be in trouble now.
[/color] |
|
|
|
Post by Bengal Brat on Sept 28, 2008 19:49:24 GMT -5
"Whad da ye 'ant?"
Shanook turned his head slightly to see the shadowed, dark-coated pelt of Morphine advancing in his direction, glaring menacingly at him. Saliva dripped from the pink tongue of the brute as it slipped slightly between white fangs. Although an ordinary wolf would be frightened by the beast coming towards them, Shanook was unfazed. Lyrics dripping with venom were spat in Shanook's direction, and he had to bite down hard on his own tongue to restrain himself from lashing back with a stinging retort.
"Hello, Morphine. I'm Shanook of Benstripe Woods. The reason for my intrusion is because I'm interested in knowing if you'd be willing to ally Tazenda Cove with my own territory against the upcoming Rebellion."
It was obvious that the brute was trying hard to sound polite, and wasn't used to acting like this. He knew that Morphine was not pleased by his intrusion, and Shanook wasn't in the mood to shed his own blood for no reason. |
|
|
|
Post by Locura on Oct 5, 2008 15:58:20 GMT -5
Morphine. && Only a fool plays with fire.
OOC -- Sorry for the wait, Driver's Ed. is taking up a ton of my time xP
Word Count -- 572
The shade felt beautifully cool on the dark brute's back as sweat created tiny rivers down his sides. Paws clenched and unclenched, digging into the soft soil. He didn't like intruders. It had taken Morphine a long time to get a land to call his own, and only his own painful death would take it from him. Still he planned to cling to the land, haunt it, until no one dared to touch its cursed soil. It was his land. Why didn't anyone understand? Probably because they were not him. They did not understand that if Morph cared about anything at all, it was his land. Being a slave had taught the brute many things, and those teachings constantly affected his life outside of bars. So as the male's red and yellow eyes glared at the other male, the beast was fighting to stay still. He could almost taste the blood already. His body wanted to howl, to scream. It wanted to thrash about and beat the living daylights out of anyone who dared to challenge it. Only the male's mind, despite the insanity that already crept at its corners, kept him from lunging forward and attempting to make a kill. It mattered little to Morphine what the male wanted, as long as he left as soon as possible.
"Hello, Morphine. I'm Shanook of Benstripe Woods. The reason for my intrusion is because I'm interested in knowing if you'd be willing to ally Tazenda Cove with my own territory against the upcoming Rebellion." Benstripe Woods? The dark beast had never heard of such a place. Red eye narrowed. Clearly this male was Shanook, Leader of the Benstripe Woods. He'd forgotten a very important word. Also, what was that about a rebellion? Morphine hadn't heard anything about that either. Still glaring, the male let his fat rump meet the ground with a soft thump. His half a tail curled around him as he took a quiet second to think. An alliance? Morphine was certainly strong enough to take care of his own territory. He didn't need some weakling's help. Raising his head up high, the beast spit out a few mangled words. "Wat 'oud da ben'fits beh a sutch a t'ing, eh?" The dark-coated male wanted to know what an alliance would do for him, and what he'd have to do in return. Would he have to help protect the Benstripe Woods? Or was an alliance just a title to make the weakling feel strong? Would they be hunting for each other, helping in disasters? Was it a permanent thing? Or just temporary until the rebellion or whatever it was was over? In fact, what was the rebellion? Thoughts ricocheted around the brute's head as he glared at the other male. 'Ou got some 'splaining tah do.
[/color] |
|
|
|
Post by Bengal Brat on Oct 7, 2008 20:16:30 GMT -5
Ooc: You posted.---- "Wat 'oud da ben'fits beh a sutch a t'ing, eh?"
Shanook was not intimidated by the 'lost-his-d.mn-mind' type of look that was glinting faintly in Morphine's eyes. He also wasn't worried about the way that he spoke: with authority. It was his land, after all. I'm no weakling. Shanook knew very well what the other brujo was thinking, but he didn't bother to show it. He wanted to know the benefits? Well, Nook would tell him all right.
"Well, a lot of masters around here--horses and wolves-- who are saying that the slaves are plotting to rebel at any given moment. That's not what I'm worried about, though. Slaves are less than the scum of the earth and even a thousand of them couldn't take any of us masters down. Anyway... by forming an alliance, our two packs can help each other out if either one of us should either have some sort of problem, such as a fire or hurricane or something along those lines. It can be ended at any given moment, if you so wish it."
His lyrics were laced up tightly, like the laces on a corset, with all of the authority of a leader, but it was hushed slightly; the brute was intruding on another's territory, and he didn't have the right to act as if he owned the place, because he didn't. Even the headstrong brute Shanook knew that all too well.
His cold, coal-black colored orbs met Morphine's 'menacing' glare with an intimidating look of his own; it wasn't the type of glint that would mean that he was challenging Morphine. No. It was merely a strong, steady, even hold that showed that he wasn't one to back down from anything.
|
|
|
|
Post by Locura on Oct 27, 2008 18:10:37 GMT -5
Morphine. && burn all the lies.
OOC -- Wow, sorry for the 2 week delay and the crappy reply xP
Word Count -- 579
The other male had a strange gleam in his eye from the view of Morphine. It was not quite challenging, but not I-bow-to-your-almightiness either. It sort of irked the male. He was so used to being treated like worthless scum. Was this wolf actually treating him seriously? Was that even possible? It confused the male, for most of his chest-puffing I'm-better-than-you attitude in reality was to hide his weakness. He had not been born a master's son. He was nothing. Scum like the very slaves he owned. However, through hard-work and perserverance... and a lot of blood, he'd made his way to the top. It didn't matter though. Other masters didn't look at how hard he'd worked to gain his spot in society, but what he used to be. "Well, a lot of masters around here--horses and wolves-- who are saying that the slaves are plotting to rebel at any given moment. That's not what I'm worried about, though. Slaves are less than the scum of the earth and even a thousand of them couldn't take any of us masters down. Anyway... by forming an alliance, our two packs can help each other out if either one of us should either have some sort of problem, such as a fire or hurricane or something along those lines. It can be ended at any given moment, if you so wish it." The deal was actually starting to seem worthwhile to the beast. This leader seemed to have a mild respect for Morphine, and they both shared many of the same ideals if the brute was understanding correctly. Help? Morphine doubted that he'd ever need it, but an alliance would probably help with his standing, among several other benefits.
The dark beast continued to ponder the other male's words for a short few seconds. It seemed to be a good idea, and if he could end the alliance at any time, then an alliance certainly wouldn't get in his way. So, if a better alliance presented itself, the brute could always drop this one. Satisfied with his genius logic, the dark color male spoke. "A 'lliance seem teh be 'ood fer bot' a us. Meh ac'ept ur purpos'l." The brute didn't really know how to say that he accepted, so he made it up as he went. Stringing words together was not something the male was good at, but by the end of his sentence he figured that he'd gotten the point across well enough. It was hard to not understand "I accept your proposal." Of course, that was believing that the other male could understand Morph's broken speech, which he hopefully could. He rose onto his large black paws and entered the other male's "polite" staring contest. They were both strong, that was unquestionable. Yet, would Morphine really be a good ally? Only time would tell. Ou just dug urself a grave.
[/color] |
|
[P:-1150][P:-1150]
