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

Thunder and Lightning [Losa]
IP: 96.59.97.147
Posted on May 5, 2016 at 03:57:48 AM by Hurricane of Mexico


You can't break me
_______________________________
Losa was hurt. Her slender espresso painted physique sprawled out helplessly upon the ground as she shuddered. Tears slipped from her muzzle and she whimpered softly. The dragon knew that his slender princess thought he was asleep, massive cranium lay against the ground as the heap of obsidian listened to her muffled cries. His heart wrenched within his breast, fighting and crying out for the inky beast to just DO something. Touch her, console her, ease her agony. In his mind however the oversized warrior knew, the instant he even shuffled, the slender bird would cease her crying and at least attempt to act brave. She had been for days, and after every horrendous act the scum of this earth had hurtled her delicate bodice through, didn't the lass deserve at least this? Muffled tears in the dead of night? Perhaps this was his punishment. Hurricane was meant to be protecting Losa, and here she was, possibly damaged beyond repair, sobs racking her injured physique and all he could do was listen.

The helplessness that festered within him over the past several days, crawled through his stomach, tearing it's way up his throat and demanding some course of action, heat surging through the midnight warrior, searing his spine and shredding his heart to pieces. Would this pain ever end?

Somewhere between the agony of listening to the princess weep and the physical burning of his skeleton, the colossal demon had blocked out the shakey breathing of Losa, and the soft plop of tears against dusty soil. And sometime in this period, the noises had ceased, and the fractured princess had fallen asleep. Hurricane knew the restful appearance on her face would not last, and soon her dreams would fill with terrors. What it was exactly that entered her minds eye Hurricane did not know, all he was sure of was sometime before the moon reached it's peak, the lands of Aurora would be filled with the shrieking of her terrified subconscious, and only Hellene would be capable of silencing her, for Hurricane's midnight pelt and masculine scent only sent the delicate creature into fits and seizures.

Unable to sit by yet another night and watch Losa suffer by, Hurricane rose unsteadily upon his paws, bile rising in his throat and threatening to spill out of his maw as the gladiator pictured what would soon become of the restful marionette. Paws cloaked in the darkest of the nights hues shakily support the weight of the devil's pride and joy, and Hurricane's bright lanterns shift in the moonlight, carefully avoiding last autumns leaves and the delicious crunching noise the would have made had his weight crushed them under his paws. Hurricane chose each step away from the terra painted valkyrie cautiously, until finally he could no longer see her damaged form, or hear her slow, shuddered breaths. If the girl had started murmuring in fear already, Hurricane could not hear her for the moment he was far enough away the midnight cretin shot away, forcing his massive physique into a full throttle run. Powerful paws crashing into the land as long inky pillars carry him far out of the land of Aurora.

Exactly how far the beast had run, or exactly where he had ended up, Hurricane was unsure. All the gladiator knew was suddenly he was no longer upon his paws and running but nose first within the dirt, with hot fiery liquid slipping down the sharp incline of his muzzle. At first, the liquid fire dribbled down his nose slowly. Turning icy cold before it had time to reach the tip of his charcoal nose. However, suddenly a switch flipped and the massive beast gasped for air. The walls of this reality closed in around Hurricane of Mexico and he was left with an impossible weight on his chest, leaving the knight gasping for air as the tears slide across midnight fur. Sobs wracked the colossal beast in the dead of night, rendering him practically helpless.

Perhaps, this beast of anger and wrath fell finally collapsed into a deep sleep, after nights of watching Losa unravel at his paws and days of pacing and watching and guarding, the massive demon was exhausted. Hurricane may very well be invincible, however the gladiator was still constructed of flesh and bone. Real hairs of the finest silk covered muscles and sinews, which stretched tightly across bones, however large they might be, and if you dared cut into his flesh, crimson blood as real as the ground you stood upon would leak from his flesh. And however mighty, however invincible, real creatures required sleep. And so when Hurricane finally pried open lightning orbs, crusty with dried tears and bloodshot from previous events, the sun was rising upon the horizon, kissing it gently with delicate hues of cotton candy and filling the ground with dappled sunlight.

Hurricane of Mexico was disoriented and hazy, a thick fog filling his mind and capturing his memories. Faint recollection of a girl robed in mud and kissed by the sky filter through his memory, quickly discarded as long limbs stretch over the earth. Overused muscles cry out in protest and the dark beast winces at the dull pain that spreads across his body, thick like syrup. His movements are slow, yet deliberate as the gladiator takes in the area surrounding him. Whatever version of Hurricane of Mexico Losa had thought that she knew, was buried deep within this creature, and instead replaced was the demon she never wanted to meet.

Coal paws press to the earth one at a time, his movements deliberate, almost nursing a limp as he moves across the forests edge. The warrior was hunting, but not for any ordinary prey. True to his instinct, a girl appeared almost instantaneously, her hellstone portals almost nervous as she moved toward the creature. The girl was by no means petite, however Hurricane's massive size dwarfed her, making any creature in her position uncomfortable. Hurricane of Mexico limped forward again, slowly, wincing visibly for her. A show, a façade. Ivory pillars move forward toward the beast, and storm cloud audits flicker nervously. "a-are you okay sir?" A quiet voice, high pitched and girly. Hurricane rumbled softly, almost a moan. "I twisted my leg hunting yesterday, and I need to get back to Aurora."

Smooth words exit his lips, a silky spiderweb spun just for her. Her ears prick forward at the mention of the pack. Aurora was known for upstanding wolves, however how the fallen angel had known to give her that name, the beast was unsure. "What's your name, dear?" More words, smooth as honey, and the girl moves forward again. "Alayna" She murmurs shyly "Maybe I can help you?"

The trap was set, and she tumbled in, Hurricane nodded eagerly, stepping forward, his limp sending him lurching forward. "Do you think... No I can't ask you that" he murmurs softly, sharp lanterns examining the girl closely, her ivory base was mottled with shades of grey, the girl was large for a lass, but would be easily overpowered once she was properly positioned. "No no! What is it? I'm sure I can help" she flashes the midnight prince a toothy grin, her tail wagging softly at her haunches, any traces of her earlier nervousness had vanished. "Could I just lean on you a little?" The gladiator inquires. And without a word the storm painted girl was positioned perfectly beneath him, her side pressed against his chest, supporting his front leg, and Hurricane leans forward, suddenly.

His massive obsidian physique leans full force into the girl, forcing her to the ground underneath his heavy frame, and the knight lands on her, full force, the weight of the demon upon her making a sickly crackling noise from her ribcage, and she yelps, both in pain and surprise, and Hurricane feels a dark, angry creature crawling up from deep within him. "Alayna I do believe I'm going to enjoy you" he hisses, and a whimper slips from her lips. Hurricane grabs her muzzle and clamps down, grinding her jaws together and creating a muffled scream from the back of her throat. "Scream for me again" he snarls, standing above her suddenly, one large paw placed in the center of her back, holding her down, the the devil reaches for her flank with his muzzle, biting down with full force, drawing blood and muffled cries from the girl.

The full height of Hurricane towers over the slender wolfess now, his midnight muzzle grabbing her rear leg. "Scream again" he orders her, jerking his head back and upward, popping the hip from it's joint and making her shriek in agony, Hurricane repeats the process with her other leg, and then releases the girl, shivering and crying at his paws. She shuffles to her paws desperately, and Hurricane lets her crawl several pawsteps away before grabbing her scruff and jerking her back, throwing her to the ground at his paws. "Who said I was done?" he demands, an angry snarl ripping from his throat and he clamps down on her scruff, drawing blood and more tears from the girl.

The midnight devil rolls the girl over, exposing her ribs and her fleshy belly, and he lays down, biting into her stomach and tearing away at the flesh, her screams echoing through the empty clearing as Hurricane fishes through her belly, his canines tearing at the flesh as blood spills upon the earth, weakly, the girl cries and her life slips away slowly, and Hurricane looks up at her dismayed. "So easily you gave up." His hisses annoyed, her orange portals rolling back and Hurricane siezes her throat, tearing it out with a quick motion. A fraction of a second before her does, a hushed word slips from her lips, a plea for help.

That plea sinks deep within Hurricane, and he leaps back, away from the still warm carcass, the blood of Alayna seeping into the ground as cold fear creeps into his belly like ice. Losa. Losa had cried for help like that.

If Hurricane's dark fur had the ability to lose it's color, the bloodstained gladiator would have turned white. Trembling fiercely, the demon backed away from the grey and ivory mottled marionette, and the beast vomited on the spot, hurling each mouthful of flesh he had robbed from the pretty young girl, and he ran. Tail cowering between his legs Hurricane bolted away from the scene. How, or why he headed back toward Aurora, back to Losa, he knew naught. But the obsidian hessian ran. Through water, through mud, until the only trace of blood still remaining on the warrior was the coppery taste still clinging to his tongue. When he finally arrived at Losa's den, the sun had begun to set, and he vomited again, dry heaves wracking his body and sending it to the ground, and weakly, he called out for the only thing the monster still believed could save him. "Losa?"
_______________________________
Hurricane of Mexico
Can you?


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