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: 107.209.70.37
Posted on August 29, 2013 at 00:07:41 AM by CARNIVAL
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can you hear that wonderful sound? The Ferris wheel has started, now we’re stuck going round and round… The night owl of the territory had folded her wings in early, collapsed in a tawny slumber that enveloped her entire being in a frightfully definite coma. To pass by the beast was to be struck with a sickening dread; the kind that softened already velvet paw steps, that made the breath afraid to leave the maw, for fear of awakening what felt to be the living bearer of Pandora’s Box. Carnival looked dangerous, a resting panther, while caught in her dreams. Every subconscious smile bore a fang. But nature dared do what others did not, beckoning with bright eyes the amber orbs of the wolf, shoving her to her feet as the earth became alive below her pelt. Her fur itched; oh, the joys of waking. They were contested only by the delight of death itself. It had rained. Her fur stuck up in places that she normally took the care to clean; on rising she’d left a damp imprint in the dirt on which she’d fallen. Curious--she’d been drowning in her dreams. Unknown to Carnival, the lightening had rent cold, white slashes across her face while she slept, and thunder had deafened her audits, muffling the sleeper while trapping her. She could no easier respond to the sound of any approach than stop the storm itself. Nature was the master tonight; Her toys would awake when She chose, not before. But the Malignant fatale was alive now, and she walked towards the border with a lounge to her step, forgetting her mussed appearance. She’d dropped off behind a thicket of vegetation just inside the border, accustomed to roaming in and out of the terra at her pleasure. The wolf hadn’t bothered to conceal itself, but that didn’t bother her. Her eyes narrowed with that excitement peculiar to one who deals with the Devil, an excitement that does not suit the present but courts the potential for the future. The wolf was a blank slate; all gray and emotionless, overall a bit of a buzzkill. Oh, how Carnival’d love to draw all over that untainted canvas. Silence screamed all sorts of wonderful things. “Good morning, stranger. State your name and your business on the border, if you would.” She gave him a beat to fill in this information, before resuming. “I see I’m the first to arrive. If your wait has been long, don’t look to find fault. You are a demon of the night, not many of which you will find here at the moment.” Nor demons of the day, for that matter. Her tone was light--perhaps dangerous if taken the right way, genuine if taken the wrong--but her eyes were cold. |
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