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.
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Posted on October 25, 2011 at 09:16:58 PM by chulyin
She walks with the gait of one near death, though her pale pelt holds the luster of youth. From the sharp edges of her face peer liquid envy, pooled into beady green ellipses that seemed to engulf the entirety of her svelte face; these jealous-wrought windows are accentuated by the vehement cheshire leer stretching up the expanse of her sinful lips, exposing the spade tongue and ruthless teeth curling venomously from the roof of her mouth.
She comes in a flurry of ruin and desire, though there is no lust in this desire. Only discord, croons the chaos-brood mentally, pressing through the heavy flora with a delicate shove of her silver shoulders, dual curvatures of unimposing appearance. At first, this female would not appear a daunting figure, standing at a diminutive height and bathed in frigid fur thought to be the wool of a pure sheep to the delusional rabble. The thought brings the fading smile back, sickeningly shivering up her lips in coy amusement. How foolish those who thought her to be some chaste maiden, tittering and hiding behind her false knight of sweet nothings! How strange they were, caught in the throes of deceit woven from tales of nonexistent gentleness. Vehemently, quietly, darkly, the girl thinks up a suitable demise for such harbingers of naivety, chiming softly in nefarious mirth as she thinks up a grand scheme. To disembowel them and choke them with their own entrails, what gruesome symbolism; it would display that they were impairing their own youth, leading them to asphyxiation through blind innocence. How cruel those tale-tellers were.
But, we stall from the true point. Chulyin goes forth, prancing in almost child-like carefreeness, stopping as soon as a powerful stench of death and the paradisal smell that came with lust abound filled her nostrils. How lovely, how blissful, thinks the soiled seraph as she peers about her with her narrow emerald eyes, abolishing any earlier glee from her face. Smoothly, she makes a small ellipse on the spot before laying, letting out no indication of her presence beyond the natural wafting of her scent.
"To be or not to be... that is the question."
Murmurs she in a contrastingly soothing falsetto, the fluctuation of her voice spreading only a few feet from the area where she reclined. She spoke not her plain intention, nor did she bay to call all of hell upon her; she simply murmured, following her words with the most minute and fleetest of strange smiles.
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Replies:
- Speeding by like a BULLET - By Silver Bullet October 28, 2011 at 08:04:37 PM