TThey stalked the land like storybook monsters. Baltair was the Beast; huge and monstrous but hiding a kind heart. Will was the Big Bad Wolf; equally huge and monstrous but without a heart. Before that fateful day, he'd been carefree and full of good humor. After it he'd walled it off the avoid experiencing any more grief, the shock and horror of losing all his family save Baltair had been too much for his young mind. So he'd numbed himself, hollowing his chest cavity to avoid meaningful connections other than his twin. It had worked so far. Baltair and he roamed around, the twins nomadic since puphood. Just recently had they found Moladion, deciding to stay a while.
Here, in the dark, snow shrouded forest, they truly were like fairytale beasts; Scottish werewolves lurking in the woods. Waiting for and preying upon unwitting travelers. They weren't cannibals, mind you, but they did like to prank the unsuspecting, scaring the life out of them for a dose of humor. Or, if the wolf was particularly aggressive, they'd have a nice fight. They liked to fight. Especially Will. He'd actually go and search out fights. He'd fight wolves, bears, cougars, whatever he comes across really. Baltair would do the same, loving a good fight as well. They'd even fight each other. Whether it was because the two had an argument or they were just bored, it didn't really matter. They could let off steam and some energy, wounds be damned. They were equally matched, and therefor the no-holds-barred fights could last for hours. They'd each given the other scars, but hadn't done any real damage despite the fact that they were both dirty fighters.
When they fought it was a scary sight. You could hear cracks on impact; the force they used enough to grind bones. When muscle and mass like theirs collided it was a hard blow, to say the least.
There were in Encora this day, exploring the old growth heart of it. It was winter and the grass had withered with frost, the ground only dirt and a carpet of decaying pine needles. It was heavy in the air; mixed with cold and water and damp dirt. It was a nice smell Will decided. Spicy and sharp, earthy. The snow was hung up in the higher boughs and combine that with the overcast sky, the woods were dark and mysterious, providing perfect shadows for the behemoths to take cover in. Not that they needed to, really. The black of their coats made them like shadows, odd gold and blue flecked eyes glowing in the darkness. They kept their tales high but parallel to each other; none more dominant than the other. They were both alpha males in every sense of the word. If they ever headed a pack they'd most likely rule together, two kings. Or if they had different packs -odds were not the best for living apart- they'd ally closely and strongly.
They scented a lone female and their interest piqued, like always. They followed the scent, though their sneaky approach was ruined when Baltair stepped on and snapped a twig. Will snorted.
"Bluidy brilliant, bràthair."
NO HEART - NO SOUL - NO BAIRNS - NO HOME