<i>Thunder Killer </i> [Losa%01 Aindreas%01 Open.]

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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Thunder Killer [Losa, Aindreas, Open.]
IP: 166.137.12.124
Posted on January 23, 2018 at 10:44:19 PM by Hurricane of Mexico

Hurricane of Mexico had been lurking outside the borders of the pack Losa had drug him to for weeks. And yet, the massive gladiator could not bring himself to step within it�s borders. It was not pride. While Hurricane was absolutely a proud wolf, that was not what stopped this massive carnivore from going before the alpha and requesting entrance. Something felt wrong. After everything that had happened within Losa�s kingdom, and how the pack had fallen into chaos so quickly, how could Hurricane of Mexico, in good conscious, just walk into a pack he knew nothing about? Losa had led the rainbows to what she had considered a safe haven, and the gladiator would never even consider questioning her decision, but he could not bring himself to bask within the protection Aindreas� borders offered him.

Instead, Hurricane lurked, at first too weak to even dig himself a den, he preyed on small animals, rabbits and squirrels were abundant as spring came forward. And Hurricane often felt unwell. Agony stretched throughout his entire massive being. Pain riveting through him with even the tiniest of movements. But nothing, absolutely nothing compared to the throbbing within his skull that had taken over his life. Massive migraines hammered him constantly, often Causing so much pain that the massive giant could not even raise himself upon unsteady pause. On those days, it was all the gladiator could manage to find himself a drink of water often collapsing next to whatever puddle or tiny stream he had found and laying muzzle, half in and half out of the murky water. It was days like those he was glad, secretly in his heart that the midnight painted warrior was glad that Losa was so busy, tending to the rest of the Rainbow children that had managed to escape. If Losa was busy, it meant she was not fretting over him, humming and bumbling and offering to catch him food, that was his job. Hurricane was to take care of Losa. Watch over her, provide, protect. Hurricane of Mexico had never been meant to be Losa�s equal, it was never his place to rule at her side. The massive titan lived and breathed to protect every cotton candy painted hair upon her perfect porcelain physique.

So he bided his time. As spring moved forward, and prey became plentiful, Hurricane of Mexico healed. Slowly, painfully. Every webbed scab that turned into a stitched scar ached. Muscles burned as they carefully rebuilt. And the headaches only increased. And then, one day. Hurricane caught his head on something. A branch snagged on the corner of his head and, the fearsome beast had to shake free. �What the hell.� Hurricane�s deep voice rumbled through the forest, carrying on whispers of the wind. The soft brushing together of branches laughed at him how careless to have been caught on a branch. What a foolish warrior, they taunted. Hurricane turned back to look at the bramble that had stopped him. Except, it wasnt a bramble. It was smooth as a stone. �How..� the midnight painted warriors gut sank. The wind had been full of whispers. This land was full of magic, and not the same kind as was present in Losa�s kingdom. Hurricane had heard, that some of the wolves that had been present for the same explosion as he, had... unnatural things happening to them. The alpha Kershov had feathers. His great warrior Athene, antlers like that of the elk they hunted.

Hurricane�s stomach turned over and over as he lurched forward, the color void hessian had dug a modest den near a shallow stream, the gentle trickling of water had slowed as the heat of summer came forward, and he was sure that soon the murky liquid would vanish altogether once the days lengthened a little more. Skidding to a halt, spraying grass and dirt under powerful paws, Hurricane fishtailed slightly under the forcefulness of his stop, rear end sliding out from under him. Paws land in muddy water, disrupting the reflection, but as the ripples lessened and the debris he had stirred settled back toward the bottom of the stream, there was no doubt in Hurricane�s mind that something was wrong. For near his trilangular auditories, were two small, brown stumps. Hurricane swatted at them, a whimper leaving his lips. What would he do? what would he tell Losa?

Days turned into fortnights and Summer came full force, Hurricanes antlers grew slowly but steadily until he could no longer walk through the forest without catching, somehow on branches. The proud gladiator walked with his head down, avoiding his pastel princess. Hiding. But his distrust for aindreas and his pack grew. Every day Hurricane was away from Losa, his gut tightened a little more. How could he protect her from here? Could he even still protect her at all with these things on his head?

One evening, as the sun was sinking, Hurricane was returning to his den. Dinner in maw, he was wandering toward his dried up stream. The massive titan had taken to finding other places to drink. He had been checking on Losa regularly now. Her scent was strong, as was her presence in this pack. Laced with her sister and the remaining colorful children. But he did not enter, did not approach the pack border. This evening, however, he caught sight of Losa, her pretty pink tail vanishing into the trees. Without thinking he called out. Dinner, forgotten, fell to the ground. �Losa!� He did not hesitate when he said her name, but his audits flickered and he backed up half a step after he called to her. Hurricane had not seen Losa since she dragged him to Aindreas� border, and he refused to cross. Now, all of his wounds had healed. And though he still bore the scars of his battle with Duma, Hurricane was whole in body. He was wells and his antlers had grown in considerably. Hurricane took a breath and stood tall, despite the anxiety in his chest. His entire world revolved around the princess. But... did she still love him?

Replies:

Way of the Warrior - By Aindreas February 7, 2018 at 07:29:41 PM
Thunder Killer - By Hurricane of Mexico February 7, 2018 at 11:48:16 PM
behind darkness, beneath candles - By l o s a February 10, 2018 at 03:30:59 PM
Way of the Warrior - By Aindreas February 14, 2018 at 01:29:59 PM

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