Post by Curiosity on Dec 18, 2006 15:09:24 GMT -5
Waterfall Pool
---
Styx, male wolf
Tamaharus, male lynx
Keiryn, female lynx
Gods, this thirst is unquenchable. The brindle-furred wolf laps frantically at the pool's surface - the first time he's been down from the mountain in a long time. But with his pack's disappearance, and the invasion of so many new wolves, he decided he'd rather try and drink from a source that wasn't already swarming with strange wolves. At the thought of his home being taken over, his fur bristles, even while he drinks.
Having tracked the wolf from a safe distance through the suffocating fog of the region, the cunning shimmer of golden eyes slices a shining line through the mist from the opposite bank towards the infected wolf. "These are dire times, brother wolf." Comes the saccharine baritone lifting through the air as the lynx begins to slowly pace from his position along the water's edge. "have you lost your kin?"
At the sudden noise from an unfamiliar voice, Styx whirls around, water droplets flying out from his muzzle. His fur bristles even more than before, his fangs bared in an unfriendly snarl. "I'm not your brother," he spits, his golden-green eyes searching the fog for the owner of the voice. What he sees are two hovering points of gold - and with his mental state not quite pristine, he doesn't assume there's anything more to the disembodied eyes. "My 'kin' have betrayed their pack's pride and honor. They are no longer considered friends of mine."
Slow, deliberate clicks float across the gap as the feline twitches his whiskers thoughtfully and cranes his head higher to attempt a better view of Styx. "Honor lost? Such a /sad/ affliction upon your line and your livelihood. Word amongst the ravens speaks quite unfavorably for lone wolves...may your ancestors shower your future with /blessings/ to guide you through these turbulent times" He remarks, his soothing voice doing its best to remain as amiable as possible. Unseen is the private, sadistic smirk already growing as Tamaharus probes the wolf for weakness. "You may put your troubled mind at /ease/ though, brother wolf. I hold no ill will towards you, oh no /no/!"
Styx continues to growl all throughout the lynx's diatribe, though his body shakes involuntarily, as if he were cold. "What the hell do you want from me, riddle-maker?" he demands, his infected brain certainly not able to make much sense of what is being said by the unseen lynx.
"Many pleasant, /happy/ returns, daggermouth." Tamaharus replies with a rising chuckle, the distant smoosh of pads to mud throwing up enough of a general idea of his position towards the suspicious wolf. "Is it not polite to offer a peaceful greeting? Or, perhaps, such pleasantries have been lost upon the /rage?/" He spits out, his laugh sharpening with a cruel, malevolent edge. "Yes, oh yes. I see something /dark/ growing within you, farstrider. The crows see it too; as plainly as you would see it in an aging buck. Your core rots while you yet /walk./" He murmurs, his voice falling once more somber and, this time, laced with concern. "Forsaken and raging...tsk, tsk. I am so /very/ sorry, sirrah."
All these riddled phrases with hidden meanings and confusing undertones...even in the very initial phases of the contracted disease, Styx is unable to make any sense of it. "You...you are a demon!" the former beta suddenly accuses, bounding several feet closer to the source of the voice. "You speak in tongues to confuse and belittle me, but I will not succumb to your dark powers!" The golden eyes seem to dance slightly in place now, only taunting the wolf further. Saliva drips heavily from his maw, his teeth glistening sickly in the low light.
"I am a /hunter./" Tamaharus replies coldly, his muzzle hooking into an unsettling smirk at the label as he still impatiently paces. "With eyes so keen I can see the limp in your soul as clearly as you would the limp of a fawn. The rage is warping it with hate, brother wolf; twisting you into a great destroyer. Our elders have uttered tales of times so bleak they quake at the mere memories they inspire. Tales of great destroyers; harbingers of an age of desolation and terror. Beasts that rake their claws across an entire clan and send them to sleep with the old ones...surely, your clans whisper the same? Surely, you have /seen/ the ripple in others that /I/ see in /you./"
If there's one subject matter that Styx will always understand, no matter his condition, it's death and destruction. He seems to salivate even more than before, if such a thing were possible, the ground below him wet with the disease-carrying liquid. "...I /am/ a great destroyer, hunter-demon. You do not fear me, because we are the same. You feed on the blood of those I slaughter." In his mind, this conclusion makes total sense, based on the assumption that Tamaharus is, in fact, a demon. He steps a few paces closer to the mist-hidden lynx, a twisted smirk appearing on his maw. "But others...they will fear me."
Keiryn pads along the rocky shore of the pool, her gait slow and wary. She can smell the scent of the diseased wolf on the earth and she isn't going to take any chances... Had it just been the wolf that she had scented, the lynx would have gone on and minded her own business but the prospect of finding another lynx, a male, was too great to pass up. She just hoped that he didn't share the same fate as the wolf. She glides to a stop at the sound of voices, her tufted ears straining to hear them above the roar of the waterfall.
The lynx retreats several bounds back into the mist, flicking his tongue across his lips as tufted ears perk towards Styx suspiciously. Beneath the external control exhibited by the sly feline is an underlying layer of well-contained fear. Oh yes, the rage quakes him as it did the elders. "Your fangs will taste the end of a generation, destroyer. The end of the masses. The question on your mind should be that which ails us all. /Who?/" He remarks, his concern and wariness about the solitary wolf having eclipsed his perception of the already mercurial surroundings. For now, Keiryn goes unnoticed. "Who will you destroy? How will the elders tell your tale to the young? Will you destroy those that wander or those that /matter./ I know of a crowded land that lusts for your destruction, brother wolf. A corrupted land of stone and metal that grows with taint by the fortnight. You can be a celebrated hero; feared and respected, nay, /loved/ for the glorious crusade of desolation you could visit."
The growls have ceased for the most part, only occurring sporadically at certain key points of the lynx's speech. They are no longer directed towards the lynx himself, regardless - after all, he is viewed as a 'partner in crime' now. "Where is this crowded land, hunter-demon?" he asks, every muscle in his body aching to pursue this new target and destroy it, as suggested. And Styx is very open to such suggestions. His senses are completely focused on the speaker; as such, the new visitor arrives without notice. Which is likely a good thing.
Keiryn's tail twitches at the other cat's words. What is he after, to toy with the wolf's mind like that? Not a very wise thing to do, in her opinion. Not that it mattered at the moment anyways. The lynx steps a bit closer then sits; ears cocked forward to catch everything.
"Far to the north, brother wolf. You will find a great forest and it is further yet; you will /smell/ the realm of the wicked long before you see it. A land of destruction and war so thorough the very trees refuse to climb out from the Earth." Tamaharus explains, sterling dagger-points spreading into an expansive smile beneath those smoldering eyes. As the lynx retreats further into the blanket of humidity, his voice raises into judiciously. "Man, a destroyer that surpasses even /you/, holds a pack of twisted hounds. The wolves speak their hatred of the monsters more fervently than us. You can slash discord amongst their ranks...and if you kill man? You will die a /legend./" He calls out, buttering his voice with as much flavor as he can; tasting the distant promise of his own lust for man's obliteration pleasantly across his chops. A wary glance flickers towards Keiryn's spot, a dark, tufted ear twitching with his eyes as he suspiciously scans the area for what he dismisses as imaginary pebbles. "If you desire mayhem and glory, brother wolf, make haste to the dire farm."
Styx's body shakes a little more violently as the excitement builds within him, his eyes darting about every which direction. "Man...I am familiar with his evil-doing. He has killed before, unjustly taking away our pack's kin." Saliva continues to drip onto the ground, building into a froth as he speaks. "And these dogs would protect him? They are even less deserving of respect than I formerly thought. What pitiful excuses for my kind's cousins," he snarls, snapping at the air. "Your advice will be well observed, hunter-demon. I shall not fail." He lifts his head in a challenging howl before turning and abandoning the pool in pursuit of his new goal.
Keiryn startles as the wolf's ragged form lunges out of the mist towards her. She skitters to the side with her back arced and fangs bared only to find that the wolf didn't seem to notice her at all as he rushed past, off to follow the "hunter-demon's" direction. Yellow-green eyes flick towards Tamaharus and she waits a moment before approaching. "They will kill him," she says lowly, now quite visible through the mist. "Was that your intention?"
"Yes." Tamaharus replies flatly towards Keiryn, his face betraying mild surprise as he lunges a rocky shortcut across the water and inhales deeply. Already his gaze shifts to inspect the female for weakness and identity, his nose taking deeper sniffs of the area for familiarity. "The rage is a hazard to us all. With luck, it shall be a hazard to man then a hazard no longer..."
---
Styx, male wolf
Tamaharus, male lynx
Keiryn, female lynx
Gods, this thirst is unquenchable. The brindle-furred wolf laps frantically at the pool's surface - the first time he's been down from the mountain in a long time. But with his pack's disappearance, and the invasion of so many new wolves, he decided he'd rather try and drink from a source that wasn't already swarming with strange wolves. At the thought of his home being taken over, his fur bristles, even while he drinks.
Having tracked the wolf from a safe distance through the suffocating fog of the region, the cunning shimmer of golden eyes slices a shining line through the mist from the opposite bank towards the infected wolf. "These are dire times, brother wolf." Comes the saccharine baritone lifting through the air as the lynx begins to slowly pace from his position along the water's edge. "have you lost your kin?"
At the sudden noise from an unfamiliar voice, Styx whirls around, water droplets flying out from his muzzle. His fur bristles even more than before, his fangs bared in an unfriendly snarl. "I'm not your brother," he spits, his golden-green eyes searching the fog for the owner of the voice. What he sees are two hovering points of gold - and with his mental state not quite pristine, he doesn't assume there's anything more to the disembodied eyes. "My 'kin' have betrayed their pack's pride and honor. They are no longer considered friends of mine."
Slow, deliberate clicks float across the gap as the feline twitches his whiskers thoughtfully and cranes his head higher to attempt a better view of Styx. "Honor lost? Such a /sad/ affliction upon your line and your livelihood. Word amongst the ravens speaks quite unfavorably for lone wolves...may your ancestors shower your future with /blessings/ to guide you through these turbulent times" He remarks, his soothing voice doing its best to remain as amiable as possible. Unseen is the private, sadistic smirk already growing as Tamaharus probes the wolf for weakness. "You may put your troubled mind at /ease/ though, brother wolf. I hold no ill will towards you, oh no /no/!"
Styx continues to growl all throughout the lynx's diatribe, though his body shakes involuntarily, as if he were cold. "What the hell do you want from me, riddle-maker?" he demands, his infected brain certainly not able to make much sense of what is being said by the unseen lynx.
"Many pleasant, /happy/ returns, daggermouth." Tamaharus replies with a rising chuckle, the distant smoosh of pads to mud throwing up enough of a general idea of his position towards the suspicious wolf. "Is it not polite to offer a peaceful greeting? Or, perhaps, such pleasantries have been lost upon the /rage?/" He spits out, his laugh sharpening with a cruel, malevolent edge. "Yes, oh yes. I see something /dark/ growing within you, farstrider. The crows see it too; as plainly as you would see it in an aging buck. Your core rots while you yet /walk./" He murmurs, his voice falling once more somber and, this time, laced with concern. "Forsaken and raging...tsk, tsk. I am so /very/ sorry, sirrah."
All these riddled phrases with hidden meanings and confusing undertones...even in the very initial phases of the contracted disease, Styx is unable to make any sense of it. "You...you are a demon!" the former beta suddenly accuses, bounding several feet closer to the source of the voice. "You speak in tongues to confuse and belittle me, but I will not succumb to your dark powers!" The golden eyes seem to dance slightly in place now, only taunting the wolf further. Saliva drips heavily from his maw, his teeth glistening sickly in the low light.
"I am a /hunter./" Tamaharus replies coldly, his muzzle hooking into an unsettling smirk at the label as he still impatiently paces. "With eyes so keen I can see the limp in your soul as clearly as you would the limp of a fawn. The rage is warping it with hate, brother wolf; twisting you into a great destroyer. Our elders have uttered tales of times so bleak they quake at the mere memories they inspire. Tales of great destroyers; harbingers of an age of desolation and terror. Beasts that rake their claws across an entire clan and send them to sleep with the old ones...surely, your clans whisper the same? Surely, you have /seen/ the ripple in others that /I/ see in /you./"
If there's one subject matter that Styx will always understand, no matter his condition, it's death and destruction. He seems to salivate even more than before, if such a thing were possible, the ground below him wet with the disease-carrying liquid. "...I /am/ a great destroyer, hunter-demon. You do not fear me, because we are the same. You feed on the blood of those I slaughter." In his mind, this conclusion makes total sense, based on the assumption that Tamaharus is, in fact, a demon. He steps a few paces closer to the mist-hidden lynx, a twisted smirk appearing on his maw. "But others...they will fear me."
Keiryn pads along the rocky shore of the pool, her gait slow and wary. She can smell the scent of the diseased wolf on the earth and she isn't going to take any chances... Had it just been the wolf that she had scented, the lynx would have gone on and minded her own business but the prospect of finding another lynx, a male, was too great to pass up. She just hoped that he didn't share the same fate as the wolf. She glides to a stop at the sound of voices, her tufted ears straining to hear them above the roar of the waterfall.
The lynx retreats several bounds back into the mist, flicking his tongue across his lips as tufted ears perk towards Styx suspiciously. Beneath the external control exhibited by the sly feline is an underlying layer of well-contained fear. Oh yes, the rage quakes him as it did the elders. "Your fangs will taste the end of a generation, destroyer. The end of the masses. The question on your mind should be that which ails us all. /Who?/" He remarks, his concern and wariness about the solitary wolf having eclipsed his perception of the already mercurial surroundings. For now, Keiryn goes unnoticed. "Who will you destroy? How will the elders tell your tale to the young? Will you destroy those that wander or those that /matter./ I know of a crowded land that lusts for your destruction, brother wolf. A corrupted land of stone and metal that grows with taint by the fortnight. You can be a celebrated hero; feared and respected, nay, /loved/ for the glorious crusade of desolation you could visit."
The growls have ceased for the most part, only occurring sporadically at certain key points of the lynx's speech. They are no longer directed towards the lynx himself, regardless - after all, he is viewed as a 'partner in crime' now. "Where is this crowded land, hunter-demon?" he asks, every muscle in his body aching to pursue this new target and destroy it, as suggested. And Styx is very open to such suggestions. His senses are completely focused on the speaker; as such, the new visitor arrives without notice. Which is likely a good thing.
Keiryn's tail twitches at the other cat's words. What is he after, to toy with the wolf's mind like that? Not a very wise thing to do, in her opinion. Not that it mattered at the moment anyways. The lynx steps a bit closer then sits; ears cocked forward to catch everything.
"Far to the north, brother wolf. You will find a great forest and it is further yet; you will /smell/ the realm of the wicked long before you see it. A land of destruction and war so thorough the very trees refuse to climb out from the Earth." Tamaharus explains, sterling dagger-points spreading into an expansive smile beneath those smoldering eyes. As the lynx retreats further into the blanket of humidity, his voice raises into judiciously. "Man, a destroyer that surpasses even /you/, holds a pack of twisted hounds. The wolves speak their hatred of the monsters more fervently than us. You can slash discord amongst their ranks...and if you kill man? You will die a /legend./" He calls out, buttering his voice with as much flavor as he can; tasting the distant promise of his own lust for man's obliteration pleasantly across his chops. A wary glance flickers towards Keiryn's spot, a dark, tufted ear twitching with his eyes as he suspiciously scans the area for what he dismisses as imaginary pebbles. "If you desire mayhem and glory, brother wolf, make haste to the dire farm."
Styx's body shakes a little more violently as the excitement builds within him, his eyes darting about every which direction. "Man...I am familiar with his evil-doing. He has killed before, unjustly taking away our pack's kin." Saliva continues to drip onto the ground, building into a froth as he speaks. "And these dogs would protect him? They are even less deserving of respect than I formerly thought. What pitiful excuses for my kind's cousins," he snarls, snapping at the air. "Your advice will be well observed, hunter-demon. I shall not fail." He lifts his head in a challenging howl before turning and abandoning the pool in pursuit of his new goal.
Keiryn startles as the wolf's ragged form lunges out of the mist towards her. She skitters to the side with her back arced and fangs bared only to find that the wolf didn't seem to notice her at all as he rushed past, off to follow the "hunter-demon's" direction. Yellow-green eyes flick towards Tamaharus and she waits a moment before approaching. "They will kill him," she says lowly, now quite visible through the mist. "Was that your intention?"
"Yes." Tamaharus replies flatly towards Keiryn, his face betraying mild surprise as he lunges a rocky shortcut across the water and inhales deeply. Already his gaze shifts to inspect the female for weakness and identity, his nose taking deeper sniffs of the area for familiarity. "The rage is a hazard to us all. With luck, it shall be a hazard to man then a hazard no longer..."