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: 210.246.4.185
Posted on January 25, 2010 at 06:47:11 AM by Black Chance
He yawned, sighed and rolled over. A sleepless night spent tossing and turning had not diminished the unused energy that had collected in his well muscled, snowy frame. He preferred to lie on this frozen branch, high up instead of down low, on the vulnerable ground. Sure, it was a strange, perhaps even weird, thing for any wolf such as himself to sleep in a tree like a jaguar. Though, it was not from preference, more from habitual circumstances. He had grown up alone and solitarily in the thick, hot jungle, though his pelt continued to thicken as he grew and drove him mad over any month in that place. It took him months to find somewhere colder, he did love the jungle, the birds squawking at all hours of the day, the steam rising from the treetops, the monkeys that he chased through the toplines of canopies. He was indeed muscled well from his experience and could move faster through thick tree’s than any other wolf he knew, for he did not know any other wolf who grew up in the heart of the jungle. He stretched and rolled, letting himself fall off the branch, he landed smoothly on the thickest below his extremely downward flight path and yawned again, shivering. He wasn’t cold, but he still was never properly in favour of snow.
He stepped off the branch into midair, though his freefall lasted less than second til’ he was crouched on the earth, his head flicking about him warily, much like a big cat, his tail waved highly above him. If it was not for a southern artic tribe of purely white wolves, he would not have learned to be a wolf, he soon left there after a few months, so far preferring the solitary life to that of a pack canine. Satisfied about his surroundings, he let himself rise from his crouch with a dreamlike smile on his face and proceeded to stretch his muscles, twisting his neck this way and that until audible clicks were heard and murmurs of satisfaction followed. Feeling slightly looser and slightly warmer, he stepped from under the trees into the full sunlight, partially blinded for a few moments. He let his eyes adjust, in a second he could smell a fae, not far from here. No, two faes, nope, a fae and a brute, both with very similar scents, more like siblings than any mate ship, still, there were some weird couples. Maybe they were brother and sister and mates? He giggled and continued on, after shaking his artic wasteland coat and inhaling the sweet canopy of Malignant.
It only took a couple of minutes to find them on their back’s submitting presently and neatly, waiting for, no doubt, Queens. He approached them blank faced and made no attempt to hide himself, indeed, when your surroundings were a wintry white and you were perfectly white it didn’t take much effort to complete said act of camoflourge.
The alpha should be here soon. State your names.
Really it was almost pointless fro him to learn their names, but still, matching a name to a face never hurt anyone, well, almost never.
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