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

.:.love is m a d n e s s.:.
IP: 208.105.96.250
Posted on August 9, 2013 at 04:25:01 PM by k a v i k {and} k i r a

.:. he told me "love is hell" . . . so I said give mine back and go there yourself ! .:.


Kirastasia’s heart jumped for joy in her snowy chest when the sooty brute gritted his fangs and spat “As you wish.” It was all the Malignant princess could do to stop herself from squealing with pleasure when the boy then grudgingly dipped his arrogant little skull and placed a small peck on one of her dainty striped paws, treating her just like the royalty her bloodline proclaimed her to be. She had won! She had retrieved a prisoner! Mother was going to be so PROUD of them when . . . when . . . all at once Kira felt a small slice of doubt slip sharply into a crevice in her heart, a sliver of darkness that made a heavy sickness take root in her gut. Her toes curled when the shadowy stranger lifted his muzzle. When would their mother return? She’d been gone for so long . . . had Queens expected her children to stay hidden from sight until the moment her familiar face loomed in the den’s entrance again? Those had been her instructions, ever since Kira and Kavik had first opened their ears to the outside world: stay inside. Inside was safe. But Kirastasia couldn’t live like that. And for the first time in a long time, the lithe young lady found herself wondering with fear whether Queens had ever intended to come back and lead her pups away from their safe prison.

Her thoughts were a tangle of thorned branches scratching at the inner walls of her mind. The fact that she was able to shake those cutting brambles off and reply to her prisoner’s inquiry stood as valuable proof that Kirastasia was much, much stronger than she appeared. She smiled again, blood like garish lipstick staining her velveteen maw. “Well, I—”

A howl. Potently masculine, demanding an audience of all Malignant wolves. Kirastasia paused, raising a delicate forepaw to her downy chest as she tried to mentally pry apart those ringing notes into something she recognized. She pictured a ghost, crawling out of silver fog . . . a voice that sounded kingly and wise . . . the girl reacted deeply to this howl, and it took her a span of frantic, hungry seconds to understand why. “Arcadian!” the punk damsel cried abruptly, earning her an appalled and bemused glance from Kavik. Who’s that? the dark chocolate prince demanded; jealousy wrote lines across his face, which Kirastasia cheerfully ignored. She had decided from the moment they met that Arcadian was her knight in shining ivory armor. Happiness left her breathless at the notion that she had an excuse to talk to the brute who’d sheltered her from a literal storm and taken the time to speak with her. Luminous golden-amber eyes flamed back at her prisoner. “I plan on taking you to the pack meeting!” Kira twittered, as if dragging the surly shade-painted boy along would be equivalent to having a date to the royal ball. Her tail waved madly behind her, a blur of feather-light fur and thrill. “And if you don’t agree . . .” She didn’t have to finish that statement; Kavik loosed another starving snarl that promised exactly what he’d do if his foe failed to obey his sister . . .


* * *



For children whose veins sang with the frigid blood of Kershov and the scorching venom of Queens, Kira and Kavik could not have been a stranger pair as they trotted blithely through the sin-saturated forests of Malignant Felicity. They seemed unaffected by the heavy stench of death sloughing with dark sensuality past moss-laden tree branches; the harsh croaks of ravens fell on their innocent ears like the sweetest trills of birdsong. Kavik would much have preferred the close safety of his den over the comparatively startling openness of the woods, yet even he appeared more or less in his element as he followed his spirited sister toward the source of the summoning. That is . . . until the motley scents of many wolves entered his senses. A haunted light entered his black-ringed irises. Kira noted the way his bone-white face contracted as they neared the meeting. She slid a sly eye at her prisoner to see if he, too, had caught onto her brother’s malaise. Time to distract him . . .

“You’re going to get your wish—everyone in the pack will get to meet you! I’m going to show you to the wolves of Malignant, Mister Groundhog . . . although I probably shouldn’t call you ‘Mister Groundhog.’ What is your name, anyway? Mine is Kirastasia.”

Kavik appeared more or less disgusted by the very idea of taking this scumbag further into the territory, yet his sable ears perked forward to catch his enemy’s title, glad of the chance to not think about interacting with a handful of unknown adults.

“They’re all my mother’s subjects,” Kirastasia continued, more for Kavik’s benefit than her prisoner’s. She knew how her voice soothed her sibling and used that fact to her advantage. “I mean—most of them are. I think I’m related to a few of them. I don’t know. The BEST one is named Arcadian—”

Her voice cracked and died. They had entered the clearing. She and Kavik were no longer newborns, but each lupine in the area nearly towered over them both. Evil and desire and violence enclosed them like the chilled metal bars of an exquisite cage. Kavik immediately pressed himself to Kira’s side; she could feel his heartbeat hammering against the curved bones of her ribcage. “I . . . hope we aren’t late!” Kirastasia purred, a charming smile saucily tipping her lips. She gestured over her shoulder to her prisoner. “I brought a guest!”


.:.child of Malignant – daughter of Queens and Kershov – lover of none – LSVK.:.



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