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.

Refresh/Reload

.sweet lies.
IP: 156.34.198.40
Posted on May 29, 2012 at 11:42:15 PM by Vingi



Teens.... The dark hued stallion let an indulgent smile momentarily slide over his kissers in response to the new path his ever-wandering thoughts had diverged down. He had just excused himself after an interesting meeting with a group of Malignant's best. Nikandros, Kaizer, Fenrir and Kohaku were the names of the four adolescents he had been spending his time observing. From what he could tell, the quartet had taken down a group of coyotes a while back, and still hadn't gotten over a few things that may have transpired on that occasion. It had amused him to watch their subtle vying for power among the group. He had simply stepped back and watched it happen, having nothing much to add to the conversation, as he hadn't been on the hunt in question, nor did he usually slay coyotes for fun. They died easily, made too much noise and didn't taste very good. Vingi's youth hadn't been so blissfully carefree, but he wasn't the sort to begrudge a few prospective future psychos their childhood happiness.

Vingi hadn't been in the pack for a while that would be considered very long, and things had been very quiet since his arrival, so he wasn't one to judge, but it seemed as if the wolves in this pack of crazy killers were very independent and not exactly the hanging around type. This was regrettable, of course, because Vingi had initially joined in order to have the privilege of watching them behave strangely all at once. However, this pack had several pluses about it. He never had to see the smiling faces of the beneolant sissies outside of the border unless he felt the need to, he had an interesting 'home base' to return to, and he got to pretend to be a pack wolf, which was actually not too bad. He had a tiny bit of purpose, a daily run around the borders, a new place to sleep each night as he wandered the territory like a misplaced phantom or estranged ghoul.

He found his limbs moving him toward the northern most border as if they had taken the initiative involuntarily. His strides were smooth and his gait flawless, a testament of his skill level. He hadn't trained in ways other than running for a few days and felt overly energetic. He was leaner than usual – he hadn't been hunting much. It gave him a rangy style that was actually quite sexy, if one liked that sort of lean-with-toned-muscle look. Regardless of how much meat he had on him, he wasn't bad looking by any standards. Before he got bored with vixens, the boy had been a bit of a player. He was long legged, lean, with a well shaped face and normal sized, nicely proportioned 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). But his fur wasn't the kicker. The most attractive things about him were intense, almond shaped, emerald green eyes. But beauty was fleeting, or so he'd heard, just as his interest in it was fleeting. He didn't care about appearances, as any idiot could scan a wolf and see what he looked like. It was far more fun to attempt to discern their personality.

The ebonite Omega had traversed only a minimal distance when the rotund howl of a young adult male shattered the quiet. The voice sang of a hunt, and instructed prospective hunters to meet at the most commonly used border. A little ambiguous in the orders, but Vingi could work with that – he hadn't been a soldier all of those years for nothing. With a rapid shuffle of his well-conformed stilts, the bronco had oriented his bodice toward the call and was loping elegantly forward, his paws taking him through the tropical forest's proud myriad of luscious greenery at a moderate pace. After a few minutes of cantering, e could smell the gathering not too far off. Vingi inhibited the more rapid movements of his pistons, slowing his shadowy frame to a graceful, languid walk. He still felt bizarrely energetic, and was glad to be putting his current vigor to a beneficial use.

Upon striding into the midst of the two already gathered, the black stag lowered himself onto his haunches a respectful number of tail-lengths away from the duo. He looked over them both, noticing the youngness of the one who had cried out for them once more, but not judging – he knew that age didn't make much of a difference, since he'd known a lot of mature idiots. The other varg was also male, but seemed to have a few more summers. He nodded to both of them, courtesy evident in his motions. So far, a good hunting team. The scents of a few more approachers tinged the warm breeze, so he could only suppose that they would soon have company.

ooc: Vingi's here, so the party can start :D

stock by FIGG manbearpigs - a deviantart source.



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