We could be IMMORTALS IP: 50.76.179.253 Posted on March 19, 2015 at 02:31:54 AM by Hurricane of Mexico
Four dark paws move soundlessly across the terrain. Shadows litter obsidian fur as the creature moves stealthily over the earth. Tall, strong trees cover the area. Thick, dark leaves block the sun from entering, and water from leaving. Suddenly there is a crack, loud, shattering the silence that filled the damp, musty air. The creature's head swivels, tall black ears snapping to attention, piercing yellow eyes searching for the careless culprit.
And there it is, perched delicately amongst the ferns that so casually litter the earth, a rabbit, large, unaware of the creature looming in the shadows. The large, night hued wolf springs forward, charging the rabbit, hurling his essence toward it's lithe frame. The small creature becomes aware, however late, it is being hunted, and with a panic stricken shriek the massive canine sinks ivory fangs into soft flesh. The massive brute clenched his jaw as the rabbit writhed, fresh blood staining his maw.
And forthwith the small creature goes limp, hanging from the jaws of the charcoal monster. With a angry snarl the male wolf flings his head and sends the rabbit hurtling into the underbrush, his tongue capturing minute droplets of blood from the roughs of his fur.
The masculine creature moves forward, carelessly now, voluminous paws demolishing whatever dares cross his path. The oversized canine was furious, rage seething out of his very essence. He lived in a shell of rage, terrorizing the forest, killing what dared near him and hunting down whatever was too frightened to stumble before the wretched king. The wolf ruled this forest, and the creatures within were in terror. The king had become insane, what was there not to fear?
Finally the violent imperator steps into the light. The wolf is indeed a creature to be feared, his capacious form stands tall and proud. Blood stains his midnight hued pelt, dried and sticky it coats his chest and forepaws, wounds and scars scattered across his pelt. The vicious creature snarls loudly across the humble clearing, birds scattering fearfully from the underbrush. He tosses his head proudly, much like a lion, and perhaps the deranged creature thinks himself to be one. Perhaps, this magnificent, elegant creature, had gone insane.
Perhaps he was. Perhaps this grand king had lost that which was closest to him, perhaps, part of his soul had vanished. Wolves mate for life. That, was the only thought in this enraged, tumultuous soul as he stood amongst the midst of the rushing stream. Replies:
