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: 75.91.84.244
Posted on August 12, 2010 at 03:30:51 AM by Devil May Cry
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After an hour or so of sitting, my platinum chasms were starting to droop and even close at certain points. Ah shit, I don't want to sleep, not yet. Something tells me that my night is about to get a hell of a lot more interesting. I stand and stretch, rolling my apex on my shoulders as a few vertebrae pop in my spine. Ah, that felt good. Sighing in relief, I sit back down on the cold ground before letting my fore hand droop to the earth as well, front fulcrums stretching out leisurely before me as I await whatevers coming. Soon, I can make out stealthy paw steps outside my little willow haven and I am tempted to look out and see who it is. No, it could be some annoying prick that I don't want to see, so instead I lay my onyx culmination down on my paws and continue to wait, though my skin shivers in anticipation. It seems like forever before my alert doublets pick up the unistakable sounds of paws moving around outside once more. Lifting my crania, I stare relentlessly through the branches, my sun touched orbits slightly narrowed, wishing I had xray vision so I could look right through the curtains and see the victim behind. Continuing to listen though, I get a surprise as it is unmistakable now that the culprit is heading right to my little hiding spot. Hm, this should be interesting. Then a merciless perfume surrounds me, my proboscis takes a big whiff, my skin shivering again with a new ecstacy. Queens? It could only be, for only her aroma puts me in the asylum like this. I get to my paws right as the lucid lamia pushes herself through the curtain of branches, her own lampistra already on me as if she knew I was there. Well, durr, of course she would have smelled me. I take her in like my newest masterpiece, fresh and warm still on the ground with scarlet liquid leaking form every pore. She is truly a sight to behold. And then I notice the slight limp with which she is walking and instantly my hackles rise. Who in the hell would do this? The dowager seems to ignore it herself, instead cocking her prominence to the side in amusement. She speaks, telling me that its good to see a familiar face and that we haven't seen each other in a while. She would be all too correct on that account. It has been a while. I nod my own hourglass in agreement, even as a gentle smirk crosses my sable labrums. "Yes, it has. Always a pleasure to see you, my queen." I even bow my fragma to her in respect, flattening my diagnostics and lowering myself, something I would do for no one else but her. I am calm on the outside, but on the inside I am boiling with rage at the atrocities done to my alpha. I want to hunt them down and torture them painfully, slowly, yet I know if that was me, I'd want that pleasure myself. Queens always did like doing most of the killing, I guess I kind of took over where she left off on the borders. The succumbus's velvets pull into a grin then and starts to ease herself onto the ground. I watch silently, though at her yelp, I instantly tense and a slight growl of irritation releases from my vocals, though its not towards her, but toward the dumb bitch that did this to her. As her weak sound turns into a growl, I find myself smiling a little, admiring her courage and fortitude, even when in pain. Unsure of how to act, I shift and take a few steps toward her before lowering myself slowly to the ground beside her. Once I am laying down too (of course making sure not to touch her, even though I want to), I turn my mango corneas toward her and ask in a rare gentle tone. "How bad is it?" Even though it is spoken softly, there is an edge to it that says 'don't downplay it, tell me the truth.' I know her types, they'll say what you want to hear because they hate to seem weak in the eyes of their followers. Queens wouldn't want my pity, not that she would ever get it. No, only the pathetic get my pity and she is far from that. My sun rayed twins give her that no nonsense look even as my labias twich a bit at the urge to bite something and shake. |
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