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: 156.34.192.199
Posted on October 9, 2011 at 02:31:46 AM by Vingi
The handsome stag was a morning person, or should I correct, a morning wolf. He rose with the dawn, crawling out of the low entry-way of the den he had painstakingly dug himself. The warmed air inside the confined space contrasted with the chill fall air of the world outside. Although the morning was crisp, his coat kept him perfectly comfortable. Vingi stretched luxuriously, arching his spine and throwing his legs out in front of him in an undignified but useful position. He held his ungainly pose for a few moments before shifting into a normal standing position. A long night of sleep had left the emerald-eyed demon thirsty. Following both his nose and his memory, he set his course toward the nearest stream and moved his stilts in what was a graceful jog. He moved with oiled grace, each muscle, each fibre, each molecule, perhaps even each atom of his being worked together seamlessly to propel him along at his chosen pace. After a few moments of lithe trotting through the underbrush, the boy made it to a ridge. He took several powerful strides to gain the top of it, then slipped down the descent that followed it. Before him lay the water. A clear, fast flowing brook gurgled cheerfully. Vingi stepped forward and lowered his head to lap the pristine aqua up. The water felt extremely cold when it touched his nose, but he had been prepared for that and thus did not jump or feel shocked at it's low temperature. His pink-hued tongue slipped out from between parted jowls, flicking the cold liquid into his mouth and down his throat, from whence it began it's cycle in his digestive tract. He drank his fill before raising his dripping maw from the stream and stepping back a few paces. His drinking finished and his body reasonably refreshed, the male pivoted on his nearly chocolate haunches and began the journey to his elusive destination. Vingi's dark facial was set in an uncharacteristically serious expression as he began to trek dutifully through the forest. He walked for a long time, hours even. As his limber frame slid and ducked through thick tangles of foliage and as he picked up an easy trot through less obstacle strewn terra, the pearly dawn sky turned gradually turned blue. He journeyed through till evening, stopping only occasionally for quick breaks in which he took care of his physical needs. Only when dusk had passed and night had fallen did the trim warrior move his dark bodice to a suitable resting spot and curl up peacefully for the ebonite hours. The midnight moon found him slumbering yet alert, his ears flicking back and forth to keep a tab on his surroundings even whilst he briefly visited the land of Nod. The next sunrise found the determined hunter already on the move. That day passed much the same as the last, the only change in it being the capture of two hapless rabbits who were attempting to live a peaceful life in the forest. He waded through a small brook, trotted through a sunlit field full of chest high grass and continued onward. The only similarities between the terrain that he marched upon was the tendency that it had to slope almost imperceptibly downward. As he reached the low-lying areas, the air became noticeably muggier. The trees changed from spruce and birch to those of a more tropical variety. Their overlapping branches cause a canopy of shade upon the forest floor. He blends with the shadows even though he is not sneaking or hiding in the slightest. But more apparent than the change in scenery was the powerful, pungent odour that marked were he was headed: the pack land of Malignant Felicity. Vingi had numerous reasons to choose the pack that he had chosen. Foremost that many of the wannabe joining wolves would consider was the territory itself. Malignant was lush and beautiful, a literal paradise on earth. However, that was not what had made his decision. He would have headed toward the land even if it hadn't been the prime real estate it was. Vingi had been an executioner/gladiator for a few years at the place were he was born, something that made the smell of the place seem like home, but that wasn't what made him decide to grovel on the borders either. To put it in his own mind's words, he was going to try his hand at joining because it 'seemed like the most interesting thing to do' . Blossom Forest, as a whole, was a boring place. A wolf like Vingi who didn't have the inclination to become a serial killer, flirt or run about saving innocents from the many wolves who killed time by killing others actually had very little to do in the place other than just lazing around. Watching other wolves acting like idiots could only amuse one for just so long before it began to get achingly tiresome. Vingi had, of course, chosen the route of the amused bystander for a time. However, he found a couple things about the job a bit annoying. The girls who were involved mainly. He wasn't bad looking by any standards - long legged, lean, with a well shaped face and normal sized, nicely shaped ears. His fur was nice - almost-black-dark-brown muzzle and lower legs with a slow change from ink to chocolate as it spread upward (in the case of his legs) and over his silky ruff and down his back (in the case of his facial area). He was basically plain, with the only really attractive thing about him being his intense, almond shaped, emerald green eyes. However, in the eyes of all the single gals in Blossom, he was amazingly hot and an object that needed to be flirted with. The first three times a random, in heat girl walked up to him it was funny. Fourth and fifth, vaguely humorous. Sixth in one day, however, did not float so well. Another irritating thing about the unpacklands of BF was the amount of benevolence. Seriously, how long could a wolf smile like that without doing permanent damage to their lips. Or perhaps that was why they were always smiling... He hadn't actually sunk so low as to spend time pondering whether or not the average smiling bumpkin's face was actually stuck in that idiotic expression. It was actually quite a possible scenario that would easily explain all those curved kissers. But enough of that pointless blather. After three days of on and off walking, he had reached the border of what hopefully would be his future default lurking area. If even half of the rumours about the pack were true, it would be an interesting place for him to begin his career of actually being amused in BF. Without a doubt, the most interesting type of wolves to hang around with were dangerous sociopaths with long histories of violence. They weren't predictable like the average Jane or Joe, that was for sure. For that reason, basically that sole reason, he had come here. Whether or not his search for amusement would get him killed remained to be seen as his fleet stilts slid him to a graceful halt a few respectful feet back from the strongly marked scent line. Vingi was neither an idiot nor one prone to vocalizing, he kept his trap firmly shut and his palate devoid of expression as he waited. He wasn't one to bow to thin air, so he wasn't doing any grovelling yet, but his posture was far from imperious. Although his tail isn't flattened against his rump yet, it is lowered into a respectable position. His jetty auditives are slightly back, not pinned, but slanted, the rest of his head follows suit by being lowered slightly. All in all, he is behaving himself like any intelligent creature would. He had taken the hint from the mangled corpse that lay about two hundred feet to his right.... ooc: As discussed <3 this is a rejoin... Please ignore the fact that he was probationary accepted before. Nobody has seen this guy before, 'kay? stock by FIGG manbearpigs - a deviantart source. |
Replies:
- take apart your soul.. - By Llorana October 10, 2011 at 12:53:41 PM
.sweet lies. - By Vingi October 12, 2011 at 00:24:06 AM
TROUBLE: middle name - By NIKANDROS October 12, 2011 at 11:45:28 PM
old soul. - By Llorana October 13, 2011 at 02:41:10 AM
. sweet lies. [coming] - By Vingi October 15, 2011 at 02:02:14 AM
. sweet lies. - By Vingi October 21, 2011 at 01:05:58 PM
TROUBLE: middle name - By NIKANDROS October 18, 2011 at 03:26:23 AM
old soul. - By Llorana October 30, 2011 at 04:56:38 PM
. sweet lies. [incomplete] - By Vingi November 6, 2011 at 09:12:20 PM
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