aurora borealis- noun plural: An aurora that occurs in northern regions of the earth. Also called northern lights.

In the middle of a dense forest of coniferous trees lies the Aurora Borealis pack, its name coming from its location. At certain times of the year, the northern lights appear, dancing almost magically in the sky. A narrow trail leads you through the close evergreens. Giving into temptation, you begin moving your paws. By venturing into this territory, you are venturing into a land belonging to a pair of feared leaders. You have heard rumors of them...but you decide to take your chances and hope that the tales of blood and death are merely fabricated stories to scare wolves.

You have walked nearly five minutes before you realize the sound of paws stepping somewhere from behind. Deciding that you've made a mistake, you quickly turn around, but find that you cannot go any further. Standing before you is one of the mighty kings you've heard of. His blood red pelt clings over perfectly toned bands of muscle. But that isn't what causes such fear in your veins. One of his amber eyes has a horrid, bleeding scar across it, and his good eye seems to stare right through you. His face is expressionless, giving off none of his intentions. You cower away as his jaws part.

"I'm Hell Demon."

His voice was deep and cut through the air like a hot knife through butter. Right where he left off, another voice picks up from behind you. You whirl around and find yourself facing another male with steely muscles beneath his pelt, which seems to consist of every shade of brown. He had startled you, and you're amazed how you hadn't at all detected his approach.

"And I am Ghost...we're the alphas of Aurora Borealis."

His deep voice was laced thickly with a Native American accent. His own golden eyes are directing a harsh glare your way. Now you're caught in the middle...your breathing has become heavy in your panic and you're not sure which to face.

"You've foolishly trespassed into our territory. You face the one called Hell Demon's whose voice is once more addressing you. Get out, or become a corpse along our border."

It's obvious they mean business. So now it's up to you...take your chances and stay, or heed their warning and waste no time getting out with your life.

Refresh/Reload

Ripe&Ruin
IP: 168.103.255.124
Posted on October 27, 2013 at 01:17:22 AM by k o h a k u




the wise wolf



Her heart was tearing. And most of it was being left in Nikandros' mouth as it shredded. Kohaku, like the moon, had influenced the waves so that she may touch (in a way) the flesh of the demi-god. But whenever she got close to him, her heart fluttered and she would curl back in on herself. Regretting ever coming across the brute in the first place. She was torn between leaving him be, or reaching out to touch him… just once, so that he may acknowledge that she, the moon, had spent so much of her effort inside herself… just thinking. Like yin and yang they were, and Kohaku found that every night she was away from this so-called training, her limbs carried her to the borders, where she paced them, restless, until sleep washed over her and she collapsed beside them. Every singly mother fucking night. And every following morning she would awaken, cold and alone. She would pull herself to her feet and make the trek back to Kalgalath’s den before the arrival of dawn. And when he came out she and he would move towards more secluded areas where no soul would questions just why their Alpha was actually training a prisoner and not detaining her. Detaining her from the world she had willingly left but... what a wretched moon she was.

Stronger. Kohaku had grown so. Her muscles could be seen now, rippling underneath her torso. Before she came, she was as thin as an aspen sapling. She was useless when it came to offense… yet now, she could examine and count each and every indent displaying just where her muscles ended then began again. Perhaps she had not been taught at all, this creature of the night. Perhaps she had just been returned to her rawest form—the form she had taken when she first joined Malignant in hopes of defeating her pathetic father and taking hold of the cursed family name. Willful yet independent. Yet still… that thread… it tugged on her heart, cut into the flesh and drew a thin line of scarlet blood from its depths. It was no longer a necessity though. Her travels with Kalgalath had taught her that there is no other need in life than to simply breathe. No thinking involved. Even the other Lera could live without a brain processing and thinking all the time. Kohaku had been trained to only use the extraordinary device between her two temples when she truly needed to. And that… was a blessing after a war within her head against herself. Talons scraped against the tundra, touching base on the frigid soil that was harping about the approach of winter. Indeed winter was on the varg’s heels… she would arrive soon. Golden portals flicked upwards as the miss stood on her own four feet, swaying a little before her balance was stabilized. A warbler, young and proud, sat singing on a tree branch nearby. His voice was soon joined by another. Though this one was definitely not a bird’s. Kohaku’s audettes pricked, delicate drums catching the waves of sound, translating them into a tone that she, remarkably, knew. In that moment—her breathing stopped. The warbler, once so prominent in her domes, muted out to a bland nothingness. But that sound was pure and melodic. A soloist performing a symphony for the heart. And Kohaku, without her being conscious of her actions, suddenly streaked towards it.

She felt sick. That bile that had been rising in her throat this whole time suddenly closed in on her and nausea flitted around her head. Her thoughts about him holding a grudge against her echoed loudly in the back of her mind before she shut them out completely. The pallid mistress had complete control over the dark door that she used to be seduced by. She could open and close it at will. Or so she believed. She could feel the racing heart beneath her breast… she could feel her paws touch earth, then defy gravity and continue onward, pushing through thickets and past pine-needled obstacles. She shouldered her way into the undergrowth and dropped low, shutting her mouth and desperately attempting to slow her breathing so that she was not as obvious. The maiden crept forwards, careful with each step… only placing a paw when she so needed to and had assured herself that the ground was clear of debri. She could smell him. But, with the foliage in her way, the ess was deprived of the end of her longing. The one thing she could not fight… was that emotion. No matter how many times it had been approached, how many words had been spoken to her… longing— was her nemesis. Or her savior. Time would tell. At once the fervent gaze of the valkyrie could not be satisfied with such distance anymore and her body, once again, moved without her say-so.

She said nothing as she stepped delicately out into the open air. Four steps forward… with room from the boundary to spare. She was stock still once she was out, carried daintily on her feminine pillars, but her musculature promised power beneath the beauty. She dare not move for fear that he would disappear right before her. Become nothing but a nightmare during the day. A new sort of torture to her aching heart. Her eyes hungrily devoured the sight of that demi-god. Every pigment of color was recorded from his bowed nape down to his chest and pillars. And under his crimson fore… was a youngling. Beautiful as freshly fallen snow. His head was close to that child, as if he had just finished speaking to her of something dangerous. If and when he looked up… she would be there. She would be unable to hide the lust in her eyes. Ineffable lust, mixed with something she dare not name. A four letter word that was spoken too often by fools, but not enough by those who felt it creep up arteries as ivy does.

And so the tide reached out again, striving to reach the flesh of a man who would be untouchable to those who knew not the game of hearts. But the moon was stupefied. Who knew that a son of the Gods and a mortal would turn his head on his own and step into the foam before it had the chance to even reach him first. She was speechless.

Salt water crystals seeped from the windows of the ivory maiden.





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