Many wolves looking for relaxation come to Blossom Field. A gentle breeze vibrating the blossoming flowers is quite a sight to see and it is quite a favourite for wolves to come with their mates.
A recent fire has ruined the scenery, half the field covered with soot and marked with scars of the flames. The other half is untouched, however.
IP: 174.22.153.101
Posted on December 28, 2012 at 04:07:13 AM by a x e l;;
A maned wolf is not a particularly rare creature, at least not in the eyes of man. Perhaps they are on the endangered list, but many do not even know the name of such an odd looking creature whose bones seem to be far too long for its bodice to function with a purpose. When the two twins were born to their equally strange looking mother, the hope for their population rose incredibly. Two males. One might wish that they were the opposite sex instead but their mother was overjoyed with them the way they were. Two bundles of hope. Two cures for a cancer of death that spread quicker than the cells could reproduce themselves. Two kalaks that would grow to be handsome young vagabonds. One, the larger of the twins, had no red pigment that the species was known for. His title was Kong. And he had taken the path of a warrior, showing kindness to none but his origin and bestowing mercy only to her being as well. He would kill his brother in years to come, and wear his skull upon his own crown... But that is an entirely different story. One that is nowhere near happening quite yet. The smaller of the two had two small ebon triangles under his emerald optics. These looking glasses came from his father, who was killed by their mother when she learned of his treachery to her father. Again, that is a story that is fairly long and requires a comfortable ground to seat yourself upon and a nice warm cloak to wrap around your shaking shoulders. This one was called Axel and he took the more easy way of life. A crafty way, mind you. Though his appearance rendered his lineage that of a fox relative, these boys are most definitely in the varg bloodline. A gentleman figure on the outside and a sly individual lurking beneath the sheets... It was Axel's greatest weapon... As well as the key to his destruction.
The last time he remembered being warm in his own company was... Well... Never. He had been lost in a sea of cold and had never risen back from that grave. His love had only dug him an even deeper hole to rest within, and then she took a shovel and drowned in his own desire that had not been reflected back at him... This day had been cold as well. A world under a pale, worthless sun. In this month, nothing moved, the landscape was frozen into a colorless diorama devoid of life. He had won his right to call himself King. A right that would attract wandering eyes in a way that a flame does a moth. Challengers would arise to his claim of power within the next new moon, when the sky was dark and empty of any being... That would be just fine. It was Tor, after all, who abandoned his feelings for Xion-- her name sent bolts of lightning through his frame. And in the middle of the field, he collapsed. It was not from blood loss, though that is an entirely plausible statement should he look at himself... But no. It was not that. Not was it weariness tracking soil into his already muddy soul. It was the same reason why his heart was decorated with unbreakable chains. The same reason why he had lads and lass's all over the place with his blood coursing through them. Her. For the first time in many many many months, the bloody war boy felt his throat clench uncontrollably. Like a dried organ, it shriveled and stuck together, threatening to stop his breathing completely. Wherever he was, he did not know, or much less care. Nix was nothing in his head. He was all HERS. The fisherman who had reeled in the trout.
Xion. A gypsy with a mixture of maned wolf blood and some scoundrel mother... Eyes of a sea creature, violet and teal. Cloak of a wraith, silver like fog with ink around her startling soul catchers. And her name, oh TOR her name! Did angels craft such a title as hers to be called by suitors of every kind? O, surely so! For not even he, a King as he had promised her he would amount to, could drive her eye to his frame for at least a lifetime. No... Axels pillars collapsed back into the mixture of ash and snow, of rotted things both decayed and decaying... Wallowing in the pits of Hell... Xion had been his prize. In a world where femmes were won not by right, but by charm and number of fights won, much as the Herla world of deer works... He had pressured himself to drive her asteroid gaze towards his own portals. Blood... Sweat... Libido... Even now his stomach churned sickly for that voice to call his title. And when he was granted fatherhood of her offspring, he cherished and treated her as a dragon would a horde of gems, coins and jewels. He made sure she knew his appreciation. Knew his protection. Knew his warmth...
The sun had begun to descend under the lip of the horizon, and still the soldier lay, staining the crystals with crimson, his eyes closed to the death of the day... Shoulders shook unbearably slow, his hind stilts not having the incentive to raise himself back up though his front pistons scrambled hesitantly for a hold on the slick terra, his breath ragged and hoarse, opaque shapes filtering out of his dagger-lined maw and into the chilly heavens. He opened his eyes, but the memories, when invoked, could not be stopped until they came to a complete halt... And because of this, he could only see what his heart did not wish to see. Xion was close to birthing in the fall time, when the leaves reflected the color of Axel's own cloak. The sire of this dams pups had been on a week long hunting excursion. His work had been rewarded by a good catch with a friend of his,and the son of their King. The trio hauled in a good amount of venison and took it back to the pack gathering. Mostly brutes showed up, and Axel remembered hardly any of the celebration... He was drunk on success and the fact that his life was in green pastures. He did, however, remember, as clear as if it had been etched on the back of his eyelids, just what he had come back to when he snatched a large piece of meat and more for that lovely lady of his... But that hot meat became cold when he padded into the hollow he'd dug for her, and found one of his closest friends, Fen, and Xion speaking in low voices about things only lovers would dare utter. His optics swept around as he entered, watching as their faces grew pale with surprise. Blood was all over the place. At present, Axel's nape lowered, a defeated look for a Pharaoh such as he. Blood. It was not his. Not Xion's... Nor even Fen's. It was theirs... The ones he'd worked so desperately hard for. The lives he'd helped Xion create. There was three of them. In his blind rage, Axel could not put the names they'd come up with to the genders. He lost the food in his mouth and rammed Fen, who was covered in his fair lady's scent as well as his children's. Fen's gullet was easily punctured and he heard Xion scream her disapproval and horror. Next, our protagonist took his madam's nape within his jowls and he dragged her out of the hollow, completely unaware to her words, screams and her cries.
The sun was red now, enveloped in a miasma of symbols... Red, just as her silver pelt had been as he ripped her to shreds, destroying her vision, tearing put her tongue, crunching her legs and shredding her listeners. Even now, finding a small batch of energy to push himself to his pillars, Axel did not know if she was alive. If she was, she had paid the ultimate price of her betrayal. And he left her there, torn and broken, the kindly sir gone from his vampiric gazers, her blood smeared all over his labias and his chest. He returned back to the hollow, throwing out the garbage that he'd left there earlier before pursuing a more lively Xion than she would ever be again. He took the three dead pups, all with incisions down their throat to their tassels. Split in half. Beautiful little beings... Who never had the chance to develop a personality or a life...
As Axel stood upright, his plumage sweeping the ground beneath him, soot and snow mixing together on his coat, he blinked thoughtfully, staring into that sunset as if it held the key to enlightenment and peace of mind. There had been two boys, one with his mothers coloring. Ebudae and Ventus. And a tiny femme, with Axel's triangles under her glued shut optics that would never see the light of day. Her name would have been Aerith. Even now, Axel could remember each painful claw it took to dig the cold ground up three times and them the clutching of his throat and heart as it pounded against his chest in denial. And then he left. Over the year or two he'd been gone, he had done the same thing Fen had done to Xion. He charmed his way into bedding down vixens and then he would not claim fatherhood of them. He would care for the femme for a short while after her birthing and then he would be off, never to see them again. The process would repeat everywhere he went... Save for this time. The killers eyes searched round, finding the scent of another kalak on the wind. His muscles tightened as his head went to Kong's last appearance. But this was softer than Kong's own stench. It was more passionate. With this, Axel's thoughts stumbled. It was not out of hate that he took the virginity of those females. It was... For no reason. If only, save, for one. To find that soul that was surely searching for one like him... Two pieces of a puzzle that fit perfectly together...
Our demon now turned, breath still ragged, and watched from his solitary position as this rare being, a femme no less, turned her dial like a frightened doe. Instantly, the hessian did not trust her. She had the same lanky appearance as the other one did. The same snout, eyes, curvature of the rib cage... And everything about her screamed Hell in the fallen gods eardrums. But as she totally dismissed his frame, for he stood downwind of her, darkened by her own shadow, as well as the trees that lingered close by. Thinking, the kalak could quickly take refuge into the dark forest, and rummage around for his pregnant mistress to see if she too was ready to give birth... A sense of panic hit his already winded frame and he did what no creature with a dark past like his own would do. He did not turn around. He took his shaky carcass and slid to the side where the doe's vision would surely pick up on him. And he stared. Like some manic stalker, yes. For, unless you count his mother-- though that hardly made an impact at all, he had never seen a full blooded female of his SAME species before. And he was willing to take that chance of meeting her to see if she was the soul he had been looking for. Whether or not she had picked up on his intent gaze or not, he spoke up in a husky voice, shattering the silence. He did not take to shaking the soot and snow off of himself. The earthy smell was perfect for covering up the stench of blood he'd carried along with him.
"Forgive me if I stare, miss. But for the night to bring someone like you in her tidings.. is quite unnatural." He smiled, a completely open gesture despite his length away from her. "Axel... It is surely a pleasure to be in your presence, no matter what your name might be." The memories had not gone, but they were disappearing quickly as the handsome maned wolf focused in on the feya.
Replies:
- sing your twisted songs - By pandora December 30, 2012 at 02:01:09 AM
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