Malignant Felicity is a paradisaical abode to the faithful remains of a mighty pack. Once ruled by the magnificent wolf Genocide, now the wolves of this pack follow the laws of the Alpha Lance, son of Sorna, Beta and Genocide's best friend...
The sounds of crashing water fill your auds as you enter this tropical paradise. The tall trunks tower above you. The treetop canopy's seem to shade the beautiful land from the sun's rays. What a paradise this place seems. This place dubbed Malignant Felicity. As you draw closer to the boarders a stench slowly devours the air around you. The stench of death.
"Beware..." scream the birds from above you. "She kills for games. She kills for fun." Something deep inside tells you to listen. Your body tells you not to go no further. Do you listen or do you dare move into the pack borders. This could be a life or death decision...
Follow the Queen, or become a corpse that lines her border. The choice lies with you.
IP: 75.91.98.81
Posted on December 2, 2009 at 04:09:16 PM by Devil May Cry
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Devil narrowed his tabiries slightly as the brujo spoke of his siblings. He caught from the hints and clues left in the lyrics who Queens was to this brute. His sister. Ah, now he understood why the smell was so familiar. Bronx was her brother and he was here to pay his litter mate a visit, just as it seemed he did for all his other siblings. How sweet. Devil thought he felt a little vomit in his mouth and had to swallow. There, that's better. Not that he had anything against the hunter's intentions, as true as they may be. Bronx could say they were empty as much as his little heart desired but Devil knew no wolf would wait here at the borders this long without some kind of motivation. Either he had something important to talk to Queens about or he just had nothing better to do so he figured he'd wait to talk to his dear sister. Devil felt a small sneer tug at his features, wondering which one it would be. Facades of darkness remained blank as he analyzed the gladiator's words. Devil always had a habit of doing this. Taking each syllable that another xavier would say and twisting it to take more meaning from it than maybe even they meant to say. He often intimidated other wolves like this. Yes, it wasn't his pure black pelt or his rich golden orbs or even the way his muzzle always seemed stained with crimson. It wasn't the way he seemed to glide rather than walk, as his paws never made a sound even on the most leaf ridden terrain. It wasn't even the way he always seemed to have sarcasm in his tone when he spoke or the way his sun kissed opticals seemed to look right through the other wolf when he thought you worthy to speak to in the first place. No, it was the way he understood everything the wolf said and what they didn't say. The way he fretted and puzzled in his mind while his face was the air of confidence, like he knew everything about them before even meeting them. He gathered rather quickly that Bronx's other brother was dead. He wondered if Bronx had been the killer or another wolf. Had there just been an accident? Did Queens know? Maybe that was what the virile had come to tell her. Maybe not. He also gathered that this was not Bronx's first visit to meet the queen. He just hasn't thought of a good reason to say why he came to visit again just yet. One of Devil's auds laced back while the other stayed trained on the czar. It would come to him soon enough. Devil had faith in that. Then he took the demon's last words into account. Was he planning on the duchess inviting him to stay a while? Maybe thought she'd go a little soft for her brother and tell him he could have a high ranking if he stayed? Devil, of course, didn't know the belle long enough to decide if that would ever happen or not. He'd like to think not for the fairness of the pack, but who knows? He didn't know how Queens was about her litter mates. The tip of his whipcord seemed to have a life of its own, flicking to and fro every few seconds, maybe his only sign that he was deep in thought while his chassi and pate remained motionless. Finally, he got ready to speak, not yet sure what would come out of his own mug but he knew it would be something he had considered deeply before speaking. I see. A live in the moment fellow. I used to be that way, once. Now its only certain moments I live in. Others I simply exist. But enough of the deep chat. So how long have you dwelled in Blossom Forest, Bronx? Have any pack mates? Friends? Maybe a mate? Or two? He added the last question on as an afterthought, to bring a little humor to the conversation. After all, he didn't want Bronx getting bored and wandering off just yet. The socialization was supposed to be good for him. Devil had never been a social creature. The only confrontations he took enjoyment from usually consisted of blood and guts spilling. That was his true love in life. ................................ DEVIL MAY CRY_WOLF_MALE_FOUR YEARS_BLACK_GRAY WOLF CONTROLLED BY DARQ 
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Replies:
- Even freedom has limits - By Bronx December 3, 2009 at 05:00:21 PM
can't deny that one - By Devil May Cry December 3, 2009 at 11:45:16 PM
SexyBitch - By Queens December 8, 2009 at 02:46:25 AM
well look what dragged in the cat - By Devil May Cry December 8, 2009 at 04:27:30 AM
The dead cat - By Bronx December 10, 2009 at 03:24:35 AM
There is nothing dead about this pussy - By Queens December 11, 2009 at 01:05:17 AM
that one is very much alive - By Devil May Cry December 11, 2009 at 02:22:19 AM
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