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: 119.224.100.67
Posted on May 26, 2013 at 03:16:11 AM by Arcadian
Hypothermia. What a cold way to die. Basically, to summarize all medical terms into one short sentence of what happens to you is this- your body gets so cold it shuts down, gives up, because its so cold it cannot force the blood to all your organs, its not a fast way to die, neither is it painless. You’d endure a good length of time before you began slipping into unconsciousness, by this time; organ failure is inevitable and brain damage likely. The icy water grips your veins, constricting them, your heart races more than double your normal rate and cardiac arrest is possible. Obviously, you have less time in the water, for hypothermia to work in a efficient period, you have to be wet, dry means warmth is possible, therefore in water, you have half the time to live as you would on land, weather permitting. Wind and whatever you sit on is also a factor, a wind chill factor of three could even triple how short the amount of time it took to slip into unconsciousness. Sitting on wet or cold ground does the same. Moving generates warmth, even if you can’t feel it, it warms your organs, and therefore equal survival.
Arcadian shivered at the crisp wind and the grey thunderhead rolling in fast. The pup had started blabbing its head off oblivious to the ensuing danger. Storms always made the brute nervous- a flash flood had almost been the end of him as a teen. The black-brown monster that climbed out of its riverbed and claimed the low-lying land around it in a vice-like grip had swallowed half his family. He remembered trying to save his family. Mother, father sister, brother, he had leapt valiantly into the fray of flotsam and foam after his sister, as she had fought so fiercely to the surface. Time and time again they twirled in a deadly dance of rapids and tree’s. They had gotten so close, he had basically scraped his claws against her, almost had her scruff when he was pulled under for a fourth time. Darkness ensued and he couldn’t even tell up from down. Somehow luck was on his side and it had taken him a long time to appreciate that luck. He was spat out with flotsam along a calm riverbank. He only survived due to the dead prey animals washed up with him.
Suddenly he felt a nose plunge into his fur, he flinched unwillingly, more reaction than surprise- his body expected teeth, not a moist, tiny nose.
Are you a friend of mother’s like father is a friend of mothers?
His skull flickered around, fear still in his gaze. He quickly breathed in and then realized the child had spoke. How long had he not been listening? How long had he slipped into the past? He mentally scolded himself for reliving that horrid memory. It had not happened in so long, yet the finer details were still so clear. He could still remember the exaggerated roll of his sisters eye- plain fear, nothing else and she was tougher than him most days. He could remember the mournful howl of his father when his mother suddenly stopped fighting under the icy buildup and went still. His father dove in, forgetting his own advice. Never try to rescue those trapped under the ice His brother, only just a pup and the newest to the family, panicked and slid down a embankment Arcadian had told him to climb. They needed to be high and Arcadian had watched his brother tumble right into him, crashing them both into the river. His sister had pulled Arcadian out, only to dive in once more for their brother.
Long story short, Arcadian survived that storm, but no one else from his family did.
His first, harshest, life lesson had been given.
Come Kira. Let’s shelter under that thicket over there until the storm passes.
His voice was strangely calm and he forced a smile onto is maw as to not frighten the child. His heart rammed the sides of his chest and he fought to calm it, telling himself he was surrounded by air, although drawing breath felt like breathing liquid chalky mud. He didn’t give the pup a choice and picked her up by her midsection and carried her the few hundred metres to the thicket he knew would be dry and safe until the storm passed. The layers of jungle overhead took the brunt of the wind, but with a nice arctic pelt to snuggle up to- he hardly thought the pup would want for warmth. He remembered the pups question as he set her down and lay down himself, watching the sky darken overhead.
Your mother and I sired pups before you, yes. Your half brothers and sisters that you have yet to meet.
He still remembered the scream of his mother when she broke through the ice.
[OOC: Glad you like him! He is my second favorite charrie after Sir Marx xD]
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