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.

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Oblivion {Open}
IP: 94.12.155.25
Posted on November 17, 2014 at 03:59:28 PM by Destan.


destan





Destan had woken suddenly; his chest and shoulders heaving rapidly with fright. An icy shiver traced down his spine, almost like a cold sweat, that caused him to shudder furiously. Corse grey hairs, loosened by the sporadic action, fluttered down to the ground around him and landed in an already existing pile. For months the adolescent had watched the world go by from the protective warmth of his mother’s den as his family carried on with their lives. On occasions, the lad had attempted to leave the confines of his childhood lair but the sun had burnt his emerald eyes and so the furry beast had shrivelled away from the light and back into the nurturing shadows. The young lad’s growing body had struggled to gain strength and mature properly due to his lack of exercise and though his fur had grown wonderful and thick, it only served to hide the skeleton that lay underneath. By now the male should have become large, strong and muscular, taking after his birth father in appearance but he was far from that. Hellene, of course, had been worried about her adopted son but he had quickly dismissed her anxieties. He had not wanted his mother to worry but in truth he was far from okay. Anxiety had overpowered him, breaking down his defences and leaving him open and vulnerable to his nightmares. Though he was afraid of the dark and found that he struggled to sleep at night, Destan was just as scared of the day and so he was stuck in a long, exhausting and continuous circle.

Upon waking the adolescent found that he was once again alone in his families den and a heavy sigh left his jowls. He was desperately hungry but with no family around, he could not even beg for them to bring him food. A childish whimper escaped his maw as he placed his head on his paws in an acquiescent manner knowing that if he wanted to eat he would have to leave the den and go out into the world. It was a thought that made a sickening bile rise in his throat and his abdomen twisted with gut-wrenching strength. Destan had not left the den since the beginning of winter; not that the cold would bother a beast with such a thick and glorious coat.

A nose peaked out from the earthy haven cautiously, sniffing tentatively at the world outside. Moments passed by before the large teen appeared sheepishly; every step soft and vigilant. Carefully he moved, slowly at first in order to allow his eyes and body to adjust to the strange environment outside, before he darted in the direction of the nearest bush that would just about hide his monstrous form. He had grown so much and so fast that even he failed to understand he would not be able to hide in the foliage anymore. He towered above most other wolves his age and had easily outgrown his mother and sister and so the bushes would no longer prove to be a safety blanket. Another whimper erupted from the teen’s jaws and though he wished desperately to tuck tail and scarper back to the den, another grumble sounded from his stomach. He needed to eat; and so the male pushed onwards aimlessly, finding it hard to concentrate on any scent or sign of prey.

Half of the afternoon had passed and the lad, still urgently hungry, had not found anything to quiet his hungry belly. Destan had moved to far away from his cave to turn back now and yet he found that he could not move another inch. His head began to spin, out of exhaustion, stress and starvation and the brute dropped to the floor. His robes spread out around him like a blanket and though he knew that he was extremely vulnerable out in the open, Destan found he couldn’t move at all. Tiredness overwhelmed him and so he lay, quiet and drained upon the winter floor. With the last amount of energy he could muster, the lad called out for someone to help him, called out for his mother or sister. He needed help.


OBLIVION

___________________

Word Count: 697
OOC:


Destan | Pupless | Loveless | Aurora Borealis | Adolescent | Adopted by Hellene | Brother to Khaleesi | xhollowremains





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