The air is heavy as you make your way through unknown territory, as you pause to sniff the air a drop of rain falls onto your nose. It is soon followed by another and another and soon the rain is pelting down in sheets, soaking you to the bone. The clouds are an angry purple and the menacing drumming of thunder rolls over the sky. Squinting your eyes against the blinding water you find yourself at the edge of a large, dark pine forest. You are too desperate for shelter to notice the scents that mark the border and plunge in, and nearly into the chilly stream that runs through the territory. You veer away and as you are shaking the water out of your fur you notice a large pair of icy blue shards gazing at you. The storm has passed now and beams of sunlight filter through the thick canopy of pines, illuminating a massive male wolf not three feet away from where you stand.
His pelt looks like a bad patchwork job of black and white and beneath them you see large, hard bands of steely muscle and you know this is a warrior for his torso is marred with many battle scars. His banner curls over his back and his lips are drawn, exposing sharp ivory daggers. When he speaks his voice is deep and dominant, like the thunder you so recently heard.
"Wolf, you have found yourself in the terra of the Andere Seite Pack. I am Eclipse, king of this land."
It is only then that you notice another pair of lanterns gleaming in the penumbra and a dark-pelted fae slinks out into the clearing to stand next to the king, her own banner waves and her green and blue eyes bore into you. She is the same size as most males and a crisscrossing pattern of scars show that she too can take care of herself. Her voice is cold and has a snake-like sound to it yet you can see they are both fair rulers.
"And I am Nephthys, queen of Andere. We don’t care much for strangers so you must make your choice, Submit to us now or flee our lands and never return. If you fail to do either you will have little time left to regret it."
The formidable pair pierces you with their gaze and you feel as if all your secrets spill out before them. You are left with a decision now. Will you submit and take refuge in this dark forest or will you flee and never know what secrets these trees hide? Make haste, you can see that the pair grow tired of waiting.
IP: 168.103.250.132
Posted on January 28, 2013 at 01:27:32 AM by NeMO
.Winter is Coming. Fee. Fye. Fo. Fum. Quick before the thunder comes… Ice pillars gently brushed against one another as the stranger flew towards the border. Fee. Fye. Fo. Fum… Can you hear those distant drums… A ghost, perhaps… a sense of urgency as each pad rammed into the dirt beneath the mass. Gone, gone, the days have died. Each step imbedded into the ground a small footfall, a pawprint. Here, hear the dead giant’s cry. Behind the hinds, soil flew into the atmosphere, pushed up by the talons and brown, leathery pads. Gone, gone… Blood was drawn by small branches that touched the youngling’s cheeks and shoulders, breast and legs. The dead… Exigency to just touch the territory line he’d been brought in to. Gone. Dirt swung into the heavens as the frost demon slid to a halt, mere inches away from the aromatic stench of pack wolves. Clover had never told him that she was going to be leaving him soon. He had guessed it but somewhere he had believed that she would be beside him forever. The only one whose shadow was not always weighing down on his shaking shoulders. The road had been clear when he had touched her pillar as she walked. Just small gestures of reassurance that she had been real. He had had a rising suspicion that the reassurance of her reality was not as strong as it appeared. Wise sage portals had already been bleached when he approached her resting form. Still open and denying life. The pup had not been afraid of approaching her. He had made no sign of feeling grief over her. The bastard had just stared nonchalantly at her emaciated form. Whatever killed her—it had left no sign of a fight. No blood had been spilled… and so the prince went with the conclusion that the battle had been inside. The heartwarming light that radiated from her being during life had succumbed to the forces of darkness. She had been brave to not speak of her internal struggles. Clever russet and gray optics now flickered from side to side, taking mental Polaroid’s of the location he had arrived at. Black radars flared as they picked up on Clover’s unique perfume. It, too, was fading. As if it knew that its owner had already left this world for the last time, lost in a dream that would never end. The signs that should have shown his exercised muscles were not there. Red now tinted small portions of his polar frame, little flames licking at the snow. Why had he stopped? He had never been introduced to the figure of authority in this territory. He had never ventured into the unknown place, as project Clover had never shown interest in introducing him to others. Perhaps that had been a good thing—but it no longer mattered—he was here, and would not turn back. Clover had not shown much interest in anything at all, now that he went back in his memories. She had not spoken to him much either—perhaps she had just helped him out of pity for the mangled form in the nighttime scene. Had she believed she would help keep him from his ambitions? It was true that she had delayed the spreading of the black ink in his heart, but frostbite does not just go away. It lingers subtly and waits for the correct time to freeze over again, spreading its deadly black and blue fingers over a beating source. Eyes flashed a soft shade of crimson as the evil spirit born to a wench, who, like all others (aside from Clover) had viewed him as such, turned his head forth, towards the deeper part of Andere. A bane… an undesirable. He slowly bent his hinds, the bones aching to be set down on the hard tundra, and he—denying their wishes, paused… and finally, as if pleased with having tortured himself, lowered his rump down. So now, he waited. Waited for something. For someone, though he was not quite sure he wanted to risk a meeting with another soul just yet. Coming to the conclusion that he could turn and walk away at any time, the reaper in a miniscule angel’s cloaking relaxed his hackles and went back to looking to his left, distracted by something that was not there. Perhaps he was thinking. Perhaps he was dreaming. Perhaps he was just staring, lost in space. Or perhaps he was still planning. In any case, as the approaching stench of a pack wolf approached, he proceeded to not turn his dial in their direction. Uninterested. But that was how things were. How things always were. And how they would always be. NeMO was just… not interested in things that meant nothing to him. …  |
Replies:
- just a little slower - By eric January 29, 2013 at 03:39:05 AM
winter is coming - By NeMO February 7, 2013 at 10:15:49 PM
just a little drop - By eric February 12, 2013 at 11:36:27 PM
winter is coming - By NeMO February 13, 2013 at 10:50:10 PM
just a little faster - By eric February 22, 2013 at 03:31:24 AM