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.
IP: 73.81.118.9
Posted on August 18, 2018 at 01:42:24 AM by Archangel
 | The battered demon listened to her every word with intensity. She fascinated him, they all did, but she was different somehow and he couldn't quite pinpoint why. Vera had been like a tiny, innocent little cloud floating around on this hellbent land and seeing only the good in it. But Zawyne, she had layers, she carried such burden and she hadn't the slightest idea how amazing she was. The poor beast had loved Vera immensely but realistically their time had been ever so short, fleeting. He wouldn't let that happen again. He had pledged himself to guard the rest of the Arcus Irae but the more he spoke with the princess the more he wanted to protect her and her intricate heart. When she had voiced words of protest to is lengthy speech he had huffed and stood to end the subject and accentuate his stance on the subject. He wasn't going to let them leave, especially not to go back to the hell they came from to walk directly into the belly of some beast. He would go with them and vanquish the beast himself if there were no other options. But he didn't want to see any more innocents hurt or killed. Sure they had their Tempests, powerful magical creatures with strange azure orbs. And he may not be like them, but once, he was a glorious warrior with wings of shadow and muscles of iron. He may be in a different land that had removed his heritage but he was still a warrior, he still towered over many many others and he had dawned the new, spectacular reptilian armor upon his limbs. He was still a force and he could still be of use. He needed to be of use. She answered his odd and forward question exactly how he had expected. The same way everyone answered by stating their physical position in the world, their given name and other factual things. Nonetheless he listened silently, watching, observing, learning. At some point he had lowered his chest back down to the ground to be once again on her level. ......I do not know why you are feeling, or what you are feeling. But I am glad that you are… for without feelings, without emotions, without hopes and dreams, what are we but flesh and skin?” Those last few words tugged at him the most. Wasn't that exactly what he was? He was not the same as her, or her friends. He was not created to feel, to have hopes or dreams. He was made to fight, to be a perfect soldier, a simple weapon. He was nothing more than flesh and fur. Simple as that. Suddenly he felt her presence ever so much closer. The fibers of their fur brushed lightly and his muscles tensed in response. Had she just giggled at his apology? She had, and Archangel didn't understand why in the least. He was however relieved to know his tongue would remain in tact for now. Isn’t it these moments, where you are questioning everything, where it is uncomfortable, where are you are uncertain of what happens next… Isn’t it these moments that make you feel most alive? ......haven’t you ever wondered if there was something more? If there was something greater out there that would bring you not just happiness, but joy? Haven’t you ever felt that something was missing?" Her words hit him like an ice shower. With ever new question he had flinched just the slightest. The massive brute felt her delicate maw touch lightly under his own to lift his gaze to hers. The touch sent alien shivers along his nerves. And then she was ever so much closer, their noses nearly touched and he could feel the delicate warmth of her breath on his snout. The beast blinked slowly, staring, in awe of the creature before him. She was clearly not of this world. But, realistically neither was he. It felt like there was static in the air between them and he couldn't help but feel extremely uncomfortable and hot. And then the moment was gone and he was once again in tune with her words. Her stinging, strange words. When she blushed and finally pulled away from him he remained deadpan, still staring with his bottomless eyes trying to wrap his head around everything she had just said. He mulled it all over in his head, her explanation of herself, asking what they were other than flesh and skin without emotions and feelings and hopes, dreams and finally asking him about feeling alive, feeling joy or as though something was missing. The simplest answer was no. No to everything. "No...." He whispered offhandedly, staring through her with glassy eyes. Finally he dropped his gaze and grinded his teeth fighting back tears that not only were random but not welcomed. Who was he to leak?? "No......You are more than just a princess, more than your name or your species nor your duties. Who are you, inside? What is it that pulls at your heartstrings, gives you drive? Do you like birds? To run or dance or sing, explore? What makes you you besides what others have bestowed upon you?" He looked back up at her again with the eyes of a pup, a child searching for purpose and understanding. His eyes glistened as he searched her face for only a split second before his features turned back to deep thought and confusion. "As for the rest... No, I am not glad to be feeling I am confused, lost. For without these things you speak of yes, we are simple flesh and fur. But we are also unstoppable for we have nothing to lose, nothing to fear. We are free of chains to hold us back or slow us down. We are liberated from weakness and sorrow, pain. I do not like the idea of questioning everything. I do not understand the idea of feeling alive for am I not already alive? Have I not always been alive? To feel alive is to not be dead isn't it? ....The only thing missing are the ones who have perished. And, I do not understand the idea of happiness, nor do I know what joy means. I know that to love, is to destroy and to be loved is to be destroyed. Those are the words I live by and they have never been proven wrong..." An immense amount of sadness shadowed Archangel's eyes as he spoke. Though he may not know it, he had always felt something. This was part of the reason his father had always forced such harsh lessons upon him, kept him at his side and prevented him from doing anything other than what he had been created for. He again stared into her stunning heterochromic irises when she took her turn to apologize. "Please don't apologize Zawyne. You are not overwhelming nor intense, at least not to me...socializing, speaking, feeling.... that is overwhelming. I feel if I were alone I would lose my mind, if anything, you are comfort to a tormented soldier's heart and mind." These words were beginning to be too much for him, thoughts and feelings that would never have even dared show their faces before were assaulting him in raging force. Was this what others called cheesy? These things that spilled from his tongue felt disgustingly exposed, weak. Was he simply, truly, losing his mind? What if all these other Arcus Irae, even Zawyne were actually a fabrication of his mind created to soothe the insanity that had finally tightened its grip around his neck? |
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