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: 98.18.145.60
Posted on December 8, 2009 at 04:27:30 AM by Devil May Cry
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Facilities dipped slightly as audits waited to hear the lyrics of the brute before him, aimed in looking interested while at the same time gold touched rims scanned the surroundings for something more his style. Not that Bronx was the boring sort or anything of the sort, Devil just had other things on mind. The crimson fluid of that trespassing bitch and her mate still stained his ashen canvas, mostly around his facades and muzzle, though splashes covered his appendages and stomach where they squirted from the dying hunter's lower jaw. It was hard to make out from his dark hued pelt but there was no doubt about the aroma. The perfume of death was still fresh and and Devil drank it in with wide open nares every time the breeze blew through the forest. His mind still filled with images of their death. Oh, how he wanted to have that power again. Being the assassin was his number one love in life. The adrenaline to kill drove him like a slave, and he crawled on hands and knees to the whip's end. He lusted for it like a starved horse lusted for oats. The sweet sugary taste pulled at his pink muscle, yearning to caress some from the drying corpses even as they grow cold in temperature from the inner rotting. A new odor suddenly filled the borders where he sat and Devil immediately went rigid. It was her. That was all he needed to think. His sexy devil of a queen was coming. It felt like centuries since she'd met him on the borders of Malignant, offering him a home in paradise while her mischievous orbs promised much more. He wanted that promise fulfilled. Sure he had caught the distasteful air of a male upon her, mixing with her own in the intimacy that could only mean a mate. Did he care? Not really. Devil knew enough to respect the bronc if it ever gave a chance of an encounter but that didn't seem likely, at least any time soon. Pendulum was off to meet a challenger. Queens would be following if he failed, which for some reason, Devil doubted. Surely Queens would not take claim to a male any less worthy of protecting her borders, after all. Devil had enough faith in the velca to know she wouldn't be thinking only of her bodily attractions when it came to an alpha to share the throne with her. She would be thinking of Malignant. He felt his weight shift to lift himself from the surface, full gentleman style, as she approached. Crown dipped below hers in respect, luminaries caressing over her curves like a carnivore scoping out the prey. He breathed in her perfume as he had the blood smell coming from his won bodice. It left his whole body wanting. God, how she turned him on. Just the whisper of her paws hitting the terra firma told of the pleasures she could give him in another more private place, maybe in a dark clearing somewhere, under a full moon. Devil tried not to get carried away. After all, he didn't know how faithful the vixen would be to her boy toy. He was sure he could talk her otherwise, but with the way she looked at him, it didn't look like he would have to do much talking. She spoke with that oh so incredibly sexy girlish voice and his coat trembled. The giggle vibrated through him like the best of orgasms, feeling her rhythm like the beat of the blood in a marathon runner's heart. It was fast and healthy, promising and fulfilling. Just the way he could be for her, if she'd let him. He kept himself in check though, letting his canary pools convey their depths to the czaress as she came up on him, rubbing on him like a cat her master. She left her beautiful scent on him and he could have dry humped the air where she left her aroma's path. When she brought her petite obsidian maw close to one tipped lappet, he drank in her soft words like water, satisfied with the sip but lusting for more. He was left thirstier than he'd come. He kept his optics trained on the ground, not wanting to betray her secret to her brother, as he would be watching this short touch with curiosity, for sure. Whipcord held itself behidn his fit form, curved up in neutral as he waited to see what she would do next. She turned her smoldering gaze away and he held his breath for a second, holding those dark sexy mirrors in his mind for a little while longer. Her lyrics came out less flirtatious, though still holding the sexy core and Devil knew she was speaking to Bronx. Seems she was talking about the meeting they'd been holding in that clearing. The one that smelled of torture, pain, and finally death. Devil had smelt it on the way here. He had been tempted to check it out. Yet he'd gotten his fill from his own masterpiece. Sure enough the carcasses of the trespassers still lay back further in Malignant, like poetry set in motion, like a play in its last chaotic moments before the curtain falls. A beautiful tragedy. And he had ruled it all. Devil was quite proud of his masterpiece. He wouldn't visit it again, no, that would seem pathetic. He was confident there would much more where that came from. He thought of the wench Melanie and licked his chops. Maybe she would be the next whisper in the air, the next red stained liquid hitting the fan. Then her offspring, one by one yelping their last breath as he crushed their vocal cords. Ah, but the thought was just a tease. This was reality. She was here in front him, turning her lovely figurine for all of his visionaries to take her in fully, every living breathing curve. Never could something still breathing look this breath taking to him. Usually he preferred his models dead but this one, she would do just fine alive. She was just that sexy. Eavesdroppers tipped toward Bronx, waiting to see what he would say to seeing his long lost litter mate. ................................ DEVIL MAY CRY_WOLF_MALE_FOUR YEARS_BLACK_GRAY WOLF CONTROLLED BY DARQ 
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Replies:
- 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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