Ruieze Fields

Open fields and soft grass...
Ruieze stretches far in the midlands of Moladion, laced with streams that feed into Diveen and out of Asteraia at times. The fields are vast, filled with wildflowers and tall, soft grass; trees are sparse, as are rocks, but one can find small shrubs to hide amongst, and the grass itself. To the south of the fields, a Ruieze River widens, and the ground becomes sandy. There is a small, grassy island that can be reached from the banks, with water-birds often congregating on the island rather than the riverbanks.

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365 Heavens To Destroy
IP: 70.182.97.238
Posted on May 22, 2014 at 11:16:25 PM by † D ' M A N A C O †


The Demon is screaming in my head again, an unrelenting typhoon of curses and threats, berating me for Blood, for Flesh, to Sate that Insatiable Need to fill my gut with the Corpses of my own kind. My Curse, that I have only recently discovered was passed down to me by my Mother, perhaps manifested and mutated into a darker more sinister form... for it is said she too, was plagued by voices in her head. That she too, once succumbed to Cannibalism... Out of desperation and abuse to the point her mind finally fractured. But mine was a whole 'nother realm of totally Fucked Up. This didn't happen over time, due to the actions of some perverted sicko. I was born like this.

The Blackouts are sometimes spurned by flared tempers, provoked by Wolves too foolish to keep their traps shut. And Sometimes, they come without any warning what-so-ever. I never know what happens during these periods of lost time. I only know I wake in pools of blood and eviscerated body parts. My heart still racing and body shaking with the after effects of Adrenaline. Like a Junkie coming down from a High. I seek always Seclusion. Seclusion is the best defense. If there is no one to rouse my Ire then the Demon can be kept at Bay. If the Demon dos surge, then in Seclusion there is a better chance there will be no casualties.

The only wolf that has managed to strike up some meager form of a bond with me, is that estranged female Tick Tock. She must have been a glutton for punishment, for taking the brunt of the Demon's wrath whenever it threatens to destroy whatever beating heart falls before it's Hungering eyes.

Ruize Fields is quiet this time of year. Aside from the occasional herd of elk the forage on what meager scraps of vegetation remain this late into the winter. I'd created a make-shift den to shield my monstrous body from the bright rays of the sun, remaining enshrouded in silver shadow within the thick clusters of bracken that line the field. I am fighting for sleep, praying the dark void will take me and spare me more of this unholy force shrieking in my skull. Teeth grind against teeth and jaws continuously clench over and over. I am curled over myself in the tight space within the rock, eyes shut tight and tail curled across dragonesque muzzle. I am dancing on the precipace, so close to that elusive state that I can almost taste the sandman's dream dust.

And then the voices. It is only a few murmurings at first, of little consequence. But then the number of voices seem to grow exponentially. Electric yellow eyes snap open with a snarl. Violet veins of purple lightning streaking through the irises as I roll my eyes and snarl again derisively. I would skin the poor beasts that would deprive me this singular saving grace.

Peeling my massive frame from within the thorny brush, obsidian painted muzzle slicing through the shadows as I step from beneath the lee of forest to stare hard over the vast expanse of field now swimming with wolven bodies.

Oh Gawds.... not Another bloody crows! Blast it all, why does this always seem to happen to me?

I stare hard at a russet wolf sitting close by for several long moments.

Taaaaake himmmm That devious demon voice slithers through my head enticingly. Let me havvvvvve hissss flesssh

I find myself licking my lips despite the way my mind shies from the very notion.

it would be sssssooo eassssssy

But then, another figure appears, a younger female, flanked shortly by a third. The Demon's voice grows quiet for a moment, for even the Demon knows when it is outnumbered. But I still feel the stabbing sting of needles pricking the back of my brain, buzzing with the merciless craving to sink my fangs into the russet male's jugular.

They were talking amongst themselves mostly. The idea of a hunt had been proposed, no doubt against the fleet of elk that had just stampeded through not ten minutes ago.

Perhaps a hunt would alleviate the sanguine pressures running amuck in my mind. I settle to my haunches broodingly, making it blatantly obvious I was not pleased with having my rest interrupted, and even further obvious that I was likely to snap at any individual brave enough to try and strike up a conversation. I was a grumpy beast, that is for certain.




† D ' M A N A C O †


365 Heavens To Destroy

Bastard † 6 years of Filth † Single Wraith † No Hellish Domain † Monster Spawn of Abraxas & Teagan




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