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

a joke of a romantic stuck to my tongue.
IP: 50.53.171.241

i only want sympathy in the form of you crawling into bed with me.

The air is thick with the smell of devastation and ice, two things which spark a sort of sadistic happiness inside Kestrel. Not because he enjoys seeing the pain of others (his sister and her pack being the exception) but because those things make him realize that he is not the only one with problems so vast. As though he is not so alone anymore, just because mutual problems are imminent. He pushes his lean frame through a tangle of underbrush, grimacing as it catches into his pale white fur. In this shadowy darkness, he appears as a phantom boy, someone emerged from the dead to haunt those still left behind to grieve. Not that anyone would ever be saddened for his death -- he simply has too many enemies for that to happen.

Kes smells her before he sees her, though, even after he knocks against her rugged body. His lip curls slightly at the scent of her rage in the air - it is a musky aroma meant to lift his adrenalin and ready him for a fight. Impulsively, he lets his canines glint back in a warning before his lips fall and what is left is a soft sort of cynical look, twisting his muzzle and hardening his auburn gaze. As he rises to his full height, hackles prickling against the will of his mind, Kestrel looks every inch the Arctic warrior he has been raised to be. Too bad he has only embraced his abilities and potential in recent years. Too bad it took the death of the girl closest to him for him to realize how right his family had been. He is built to survive. And even more so, he is built to kill in order to do so.

A practiced eye searches over her form keenly -- not in an inappropriate, sexual way, the way an unsatisfied boy might appraise a possible love interest -- but in the way that he is looking for her strengths and her weaknesses, sizing her up because she is so obviously hostile and he wants to know how to bring her down. She is a lot bulkier in frame than him; Kestrel has the streamlined, tall, subtly intimidating look about him whereas she simply looks dangerous. He has a few inches over her given the fact that he is both male and his ancestry has been known for the bigger lupines. Her eyes are milky white, and it's with a jolting heart that he realizes she is blind. Her eyes are unseeing; she has no vision. But it would do no good to underestimate her. Beneath the anger, he senses a sort of engraved sadness pulsing through her veins. To him, she seems ancient. Not in body -- because physically she is a far cry from being broken down and old. But she seems broken, as though she is carrying a heavy burden over her shoulders.

Although he would never admit it, there had been a time when he himself had retained that sort of weariness.

He decides it would be best to ignore that part because clearly, she is harboring some sort of pent up irritation. What harm would a small sparring session cause, even if it's simply verbal? He knows she is a queen, because her tail is high set, but the worst that could happen is him being forbidden from her lands. And that is perfectly all right with him. She throws fierce words at him and he simply cocks his head, amused and unfazed by her clearly threatening voice. 'I am the blind one?' He asks, his husky voice lilting with the sort of accent that could never be placed exactly. 'It looks to me, dear, that even if I had made my apparent 'lack of vision' known, that you would not know to move anyway.'

You are playing with fire, Kestrel. You are built for the ice.


kestrel © snowy
lyrics © fall out boy
picture © dawnthieves, snowy


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