Post by misty on Jul 9, 2009 10:16:52 GMT -5
Moloch
Not all who wander are lost . . .
It was torture. Bodies laying left and right, dead or dying and free for the taking, but he could not touch them. This disease taunted him, killing off wolves for him, but ensuring that he would never be able to taste them. This illness had also stripped from him his land and his title of Alpha. It had infested his home, killing off his slaves; Moloch had narrowly missed becoming infected, staying in his isolated den. The clean lands, those free of the dreaded virus that was taking hold over Sobibor, had already been claimed, leaving Moloch with no choice but to become a pack member, or, at the very best, a Beta.
The pungent stench of scent markers drifted over the brute nose. Here was one of the few lands that would become homes to the healthy. From the smell he could tell it was a male who had claimed the territory, a young one at that. Moloch smiled to himself. Young brujos tended to fit a mold: power-hungry, often lusty, and usually very full of themselves. This amused him greatly, though he would not have been able to explain why. He wondered how often he would be able to 'feast' under an Alpha. The sickness often made wolves disappear, but would it work as an excuse in a land full of healthy ones? Leaving those thoughts to wander in his head, Moloch waited a few moments before he decided to head in. He had wanted to wait until the Alpha found him, but it seemed that the young male was not touring this part of his home today. Stepping quickly over the boundary the markers made, he tried to guess where the camp might be situated. An obvious place would be the middle of the area, far away from the borders so enemies would be easier to catch before they reached the cluster of dens. Might as well go straight ahead.
Pushing through small bits of undergrowth, Moloch wandered how long it would be before the leader noticed he was there. Depending on how large the territory was, it could be days before he finally found the camp. This would be his first time joining a pack. A big milestone, he though sarcastically. As he moved farther forward, the faint smell of wolf reached him. It became stronger as time progressed further, and Moloch guessed that someone, probably the Alpha, was headed toward him. Moloch sat back on his haunches in a tiny clearing; whoever it was had his scent by now, he was sure it could find him without help. Leaning lazily to the side to rest his hindquarters against the roots of a thick tree, Moloch waited to be discovered as the scent grew ever stronger. Then, a wolf emerged from the shadows and undergrowth. Moloch chuckled. "Why hello there."
For: Image/Rouge
Words: 509
Muse: average
Comments: Meh, mostly rambling. Sorry for the slight powerplay.