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: 216.96.230.145
Posted on October 28, 2011 at 08:04:37 PM by Silver Bullet
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Silver Bullet found that he ended up responding to the strangest of creatures as of recently. He was still slightly disappointed in the lack of utter blood shed in the border scuffle and the other new wolves had been odd and...not worth Malignant's time and effort at that. Queens had doled out new ranks after that little incident on top of things, so Bullet now approached yet another female with a raised banner to portray his rank of gamma. His gaze focused on the vixen with a disconcerting stare as he listened to the words that dripped off of her lips. The smile that followed made him curious as he revealed himself, stepping from behind the tree line to approach her. He stopped a fair distance, never stupid enough to give a new comer the chance to go on the offensive without giving himself the opportunity to react. The words that spilled from his own vocals continued what she had started, his own thoughts coming around to his usual medieval speech and recalling the flowing sililoquy. "Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing end them? To die: to sleep; No more." The words spilled forth in a soft tone of reminisence as he stared at the lady, his eyes never portraying the words in their sight as he would if he were to recite such beauty to someone as say, Calypso. As he reached the part in which he wished to stop, his words drew to an end in an almost storybook way, as if he had been sweetly narrating. The next thing to come out of his mouth was entirely his own in both thought and voice. He cleared his throat to break his own personal trance, which he sometimes slipped into when he recited things, and began to speak once more, this time in his usual, nothing special tone of voice. "Speak thine name and show a bit of respect if ye wish the Queen's audience." Silver Bullet |
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