aurora borealis- noun plural: An aurora that occurs in northern regions of the earth. Also called northern lights.
In the middle of a dense forest of coniferous trees lies the Aurora Borealis pack, its name coming from its location. At certain times of the year, the northern lights appear, dancing almost magically in the sky. A narrow trail leads you through the close evergreens. Giving into temptation, you begin moving your paws. By venturing into this territory, you are venturing into a land belonging to a pair of feared leaders. You have heard rumors of them...but you decide to take your chances and hope that the tales of blood and death are merely fabricated stories to scare wolves.
You have walked nearly five minutes before you realize the sound of paws stepping somewhere from behind. Deciding that you've made a mistake, you quickly turn around, but find that you cannot go any further. Standing before you is one of the mighty kings you've heard of. His blood red pelt clings over perfectly toned bands of muscle. But that isn't what causes such fear in your veins. One of his amber eyes has a horrid, bleeding scar across it, and his good eye seems to stare right through you. His face is expressionless, giving off none of his intentions. You cower away as his jaws part.
"I'm Hell Demon."
His voice was deep and cut through the air like a hot knife through butter. Right where he left off, another voice picks up from behind you. You whirl around and find yourself facing another male with steely muscles beneath his pelt, which seems to consist of every shade of brown. He had startled you, and you're amazed how you hadn't at all detected his approach.
"And I am Ghost...we're the alphas of Aurora Borealis."
His deep voice was laced thickly with a Native American accent. His own golden eyes are directing a harsh glare your way. Now you're caught in the middle...your breathing has become heavy in your panic and you're not sure which to face.
"You've foolishly trespassed into our territory. You face the one called Hell Demon's whose voice is once more addressing you. Get out, or become a corpse along our border."
It's obvious they mean business. So now it's up to you...take your chances and stay, or heed their warning and waste no time getting out with your life.
IP: 50.53.175.236
Posted on January 18, 2012 at 05:09:23 AM by kestrel
for sin only <3
 Hate. Flashing eyes. Cruel smiles. Deceit. Broken. Blood.
The limber wolf inched along the dying, frosted underbrush, his form pale even in the dead of the night, for the constant, neverending grasp of winter painted his entire world just as starkly white as he. His entire body throbbed with pain, even though it had been a week, maybe even longer, since Varenth had defeated him. Now, with his torn pride and his broken heart, Kestrel thirsted for revenge; not just on the alpha male -- his enemy -- but also the alpha female, his beloved sister Vana. How dare she choose Varenth over him? How dare she try to end his life? He was her brother! Blood in the veins means more than blood in the heart! Kestrel made as little noise as possible, slinking along in the dark like a ghost in the midst of shadows. One lip curled over the side of his jaw, exposing a single curved, short but lethal canine. That canine would later dig into the necks of his kin-sister and his unfortunate pack-brother. Who would've thought that kind, soft, I-would-die-for-those-I-love Kes would ever want revenge so badly? Who would've thought he would break the very normality of his species just to have it, hold it close? That snarl morphed into a cunning smile as he skirted the territory's heart. The dens were in clear view, now, and his auburn eyes trailed over it with almost hungry desire. Frightening was the word one could now use to describe him. With tail swinging jovially behind his haunches as though he was not going to take any lives tonight, the ivory male padded closer to the deep home where sleeping wolves lie. And as he entered, the only sounds he could remember and retain were the surprised, pained, scared, terrible cries of those who'd hurt him and betrayed him in more ways than one, and the only sight that was imprinted into his mind was the deep crimson of night-washed blood marring the perfect, frosted ground. No. Kestrel jolted awake, auburn eyes wide and elegant face uncharacteristically vulnerable, his ears twisting in discomfort and pressing to the crown of his head. He was clearly pertrubed, something that was anything except common for the normally calm and cool polar wolf, the ruthless killer with heart made of the ice from which he seemed to have descended. Indeed, it seemed he related to the condensed and frozen water more than anything else; how else could a being so lacking in empathy be described? A deep ache throbbed just below his heart, more of an emotional pain than true physical pain. Kes no longer cared for physical pain -- in fact, he somewhat welcomed it. Not that he was a masochist, or anything -- not even remotely. It was just that the feeling of his flesh breaking, blood welling and flowing quietly, staining his snow-coat crimson, was far easier to bear than the feeling of his metaphorical heart breaking, or the nausea of grief, or even the painful amusement of loss. He could not last in Munashii Gekko. The pack itself was okay -- slow, but okay. Its lack of activity was far more appealing to the boy who was naturally a loner more than anything, rather than the more bustling and busy packs with their drama and large-scale, full-unit operations. Kestrel was only himself, and he worked only for himself, to keep himself alive. No one else mattered, ever. They couldn't matter. Because, although he would not admit it, would not let the frozen surface of his cold blood crack, Kes was scared. He feared getting close to others, because they would break him. They would bash down his walls just to throw acid in his face, and force him to build those walls back up again even through the agony. They would not care. Nobody cared -- they were either naive and innocent or cruel and sadistic. Where was the balance of the two? The arctic boy climbed to his paws, stretched lithely, his face gone numb and emotionless once more. His auburn eyes, burnt and hollow, watched with clear appraisal as he stared upon the lands hooked once more into winter. Star-frost clung to trees and stuck helplessly to the ground, slowly melting beneath the lemony warmth of the sun. The landscape was lovely, and nostalgia bore into his bones. Often his home would look this way, too. Home was not a place Kes really wanted to remember. His muzzle wrinkling slightly, the boy began to stride in a long, elastic gait, his honed muscles moving easily beneath the thickness of his bone white fur. As he ventured deeper into the forest, the snow seemed to recede, leaving some terrible mix of slush and dirt crunching and sloshing beneath his nimble paws. With no hitch in stride, Kestrel stepped over them, his tail swinging jovially behind him. So lost he was in his own thought that he didn't realize he nearly bumped into a form so dark -- a female lupine's form -- that it could be mistaken for a shadow. Startled, the ivory male drew back, blazing auburn eyes staring into subtle, sightless white ones. A simpering smile crossed his mouth. "Sorry," said Kestrel, but his apology was dry and lacked conviction above all else... like true apologetic feeling. Ice, no? [[ OOC: SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG. OH & I'M USING HIS OLD HTML... HTML ON PHONE AHAHA ]] |
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