• Logout
  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    [open]  Make the Devil go weak in the knees - any
    #1

    Our skin gets thicker, living out in the snow

    CREVAN

    Offside the beaten path, Crevan rests on his wolf belly and pants through bloody teeth. His eyes are slightly closed and gleaming proud, the wide curve of his frothy mouth bobbing in time to each quick breath he drags in. The hunter has maimed and felled a young doe, not much bigger than himself, and he fully intends to eat it after another second resting.

    For now he enjoys the quiet satisfaction of his prowess.

    “You were bold. Quick. A testament to your kind.” The shifter mutters, raining praises on the stiff, dead meal beneath his forepaws. “But not quick enough.” He chuckles sarcastically, lowering a dark nose to the punctured skin at her throat, tearing soft brown fur away from the glistening meat underneath.

    The meadow around him begins to fill up with the eerie sound of wet, ripping skin. Crevan growls, plunges into the red meat, and begins to gorge himself while scavenger birds start circling like small specks at the corner of his vision. All in all, the large wolf seems content and distracted.

    He has no notion of the plague, has no idea that this doe may have been one of the few to escape on the fringes of a safe territory.

    He only pauses to breath, lift his red-stained head, and focus in on a swaying figure from the distance that looks as if it might be approaching.



    OOC: Hi I’m a wolf & I enjoy my venison rare
    Reply
    #2
    Sabrina

    Mother and Father left again, another diplomatic mission. Something about a new ruler in Loess, the topic is beside her no matter how hard her parents try to instill the manners in her. It is probably a mix of both there attitudes that creates her rebellious side.

    It was an easy decision, break out of Sylva. Not that she didn't enjoy her home, but there wasn't anyone fun in Sylva! She had ventured to the playground, and to the forest, but today she wanted to go somewhere new. She heard of a meadow, another neutral land, and so she heads for the direction.

    She travels in her hound form, brown with red streaks meshed into her pelt. It was much too fun to see the faces of others as they run into her. She wasn't like the wolves that travel the lands, no she was even more rare. A hellhound, from the devil himself.

    The travel seemed to take much too long, but when she reaches the tall grass she knows she made it. She was in an awkward stage, tall and lanky. She was no longer a pup, but she was not yet a full grown hound. Anyone who stumbles upon her will be able to make that assumption.

    She comes to a halt as the scent of fresh blood runs past her snout. She stops to inhale the scent for a moment, one that is so delicious in her canine form, yet distasteful when equine. She wastes no time seeking it out, someone must have committed a murder...or a bloodshed battle.

    She prowls, silently crouching through the grass. It wasn't hard to find the prey, her nose brought her right to it. It was a beautiful doe, and hovering it was a wolf. He was bigger than her, much older too. He was getting his fill, her prowl continues but she accidently steps on a stick!

    Her cover was blown, the canine looks up and spots her. Darn, she thinks to herself. She shrugs and her pace quickens as she unveils herself to the pale wolf. Couldn't help but find you her eyes shift to the doe blood is potent. She licks her lips, cleaning any drool that surfaced, her gaze finds his dark orbs Sabrina. She keeps the chatter short, introducing herself to him.

    Not Afraid To Bite


    @[Crevan] sorry, word vomit
    Reply
    #3

    Our skin gets thicker, living out in the snow

    CREVAN

    A pup, is what the elder wolf thinks when Sabrina exposes herself. The reddish-brown slip of a female entices his curiosity enough that at first, Crevan remains casual, calm. Only the hair between his shoulders pricks up as a warning: she could look all she liked, but if she were smart the she-demon would wait for an invitation to join.

    He doesn’t begrudge her longing stare, only the red streaks in her fur and the way she reeks of brimstone and soot. Unnatural. This was no common wolf who’d come to feast at his kill. “That’s a good nose on the end of your face.” He snarls softly, pinning her with two dark blue eyes. “Spread your weight evenly next time and you might not make so much noise.” The overlarge brute suggests, a tad brusque.

    Still unsure if he could trust her advance, Crevan eases his nose into the doe again for another bite. Not once do his eyes stray from her hesitant body, not even when he swallows loudly before rolling his tongue over perfect, shining whiskers. “Hmph.” He grunts after a moments thought. Then, “Well come eat, girly.”

    The big male stands and shuffles a few steps back. “They call me Crevan.” He informs her, watching the way Sabrina moved and the sinewy, rust-tinted lines of her wide face. “But I’m bored enough to hear a story, so tell me yours.” He demands, smirking.

    In his mind, it was the least she could do for his unexpected kindness.



    @[Sabrina] Mr. Fake grumpy pants at your service
    Reply
    #4
    Sabrina

    She notes the fur that pricks up between his shoulders. She doesn't hold it against him, they were strangers, and he just caught a mighty meal that it appears he doesn't want to share.

    He compliments her nose, able to decipher the blood in the open meadow. A smile grows wide on her muzzle, but quickly fades when he gives a pointer on her stalking skills. He recommends spreading her weight evenly and she responds with a nod of her head. Being a master stalker of the night didn't come in one day, she truly appreciated his advise, but perhaps slightly embarassed he heard her.

    Thank you, I'll try that next time, she responds as her eyes drift to the doe once more. He digs in for another bite, blood oozing from the flesh, she was nearly about to whimper, she finds herself laying down flush with the cool ground now. She licks her lips, obviously hoping for a bite of his large meal.

    Father would be disappointed to see her grobbling for a meal. Certainly he could understand if he saw this beautiful hunk of meat in person. He breaks from the doe, cleans his maw and with a grunt he allows her to feast on his meal as well.

    Sabrina does not hesitate, she pounces up and over to the opposite side of the pale canine. She plops on the ground and wastes no time taking a glorious chunk from the doe. Mmm! Thank you! She says when she comes up for air, cleaning the dripping blood from her maw.

    He lifts himself from the ground and steps back, just when she thinks he was about to leave her he starts to converse. He introduces himself as Crevan, and her gaze does not falter from his. She engrains the friendly strangers name to her mind, and listens when he says he is bored, asking for her story.

    She tilts her head as she gazes at him, what story did he want? She owed him at least that so she quickly responds to him. Well, I live in Sylva, my parents are Mary and Sinner, perhaps you know them? She couldn't pick up a kingdom scent on him, a skill mother and father trained her for.

    Perhaps he was a nomad, that is why he was out here for a meal. What kind of story do you want? I don't have anything to exciting. Well, at least nothing exciting without compromising the safety of Sylva. She stands up from her spot and flicks her pelt to one similar to his own I can do that! She exclaims, looking at her new sandy color before flicking it to its original shade.

    Not Afraid To Bite


    @[Crevan]
    Reply
    #5

    Our skin gets thicker, living out in the snow

    CREVAN

    Their combined natures would normally reject such open advances. Crevan’s mother, a wolf shifter herself, used to tell the taupe-colored hound that he should give potential pack members a wide berth and a narrow eye. Could they run in the hunt and not tire? Could they listen and work together with him? Did they know the basic rules of their kind? We do not hunt other shifters … He thinks; one rule of the many Circinae had taught him.

    Watching Sabrina now though, it dawns on him that his den mother hadn’t always been right about everything. He had as much reason to be open and mildly trusting as he did to be hostile and selfish. The only thing that mattered was which he chose to be. Thank you! the she-pup grins up at him for a second time, blood staining her long snout, and Crevan decides he’d prefer to be the former.

    Besides, the more she talks the more he can see they’re cut from a similar cloth. Sylvan-born, daughter of a ‘wolf’ he was somewhat familiar with … “Sinner you say? Your daddy and I used to work together.” Crevan chuckles, only slightly sinister about the mention. Long before Sabrina was a thought he and the hellhound tolerated Modicum together. Other than that, the two shifters couldn’t have been more opposite.

    He doesn’t care what story she tells and it’s obvious on his face that he doesn’t care. The big male thumps his heavy body down near the deer haunches and, slapping one paw over a bony flank, takes to gnawing at the skin there. Sabrina’s parlor trick of changing colors surprises him enough to widen his eyes, but not much else. With a mouthful of gristle, he snorts “Huh. All this time you could’ve been camouflaging yourself. I bet that would make for a few more successful hunts.”

    Crevan was practical, if nothing else.



    @[Sabrina]
    Reply
    #6
    The young hound sits before the wolf, she mentioned her parents to which he announces her fathers name, he says they used to work together. She tilts her head just for a moment before speaking, really? Thats interesting, what kind of work? She asks leaning in just a bit more.

    She didn't know much of her fathers history, only his present king role. She was curious what exactly drew the pair together, and more so, why they separated. Though she was curious, it wasn't a pressing matter.

    She asks what type of story he wants to hear and he looks at her simply unamused. She returns a cold gaze of her own, watching as he plops back down to the dead piece of meat before them. His paw plops onto the open bone of the animal. When her pelt changes color his eyes widen just long enough for her to catch the reaction, when he speaks once again teaching her a lesson.

    She takes a moment to respond, but when she does she lifts her hind end from the ground, and slowly paces forward. It would be handy for hunting....but why camouflage myself any other time? I do not fear others, they should fear me. The bold grin she gives when she finishes speaking is enough to show the tips of her teeth, maw blood stained. A bold statement for such a young pup, but an attitude she was raised with.

    @[Crevan]
    Reply
    #7

    Our skin gets thicker, living out in the snow

    CREVAN

    What kind of work? Sabrina wants to know. What kind of work did Sinner and Crevan do together? Well … what kind of work would a hellhound and a freakishly strong, immortal wolf do together? The kind of work you don’t tell children about, even if they’re whelped from the belly of a demon. He only grins wickedly in response to the question, before taking to his meal and watching the she-pup some more.

    He’s not exactly sure what she’d been expecting from this encounter. He’d shared a kill done by his work alone, let her come near to him and amuse him because she was young. But when Sabrina lifts herself to stand on rust-colored paws, wrinkling her nose with a defiant, nearly self-satisfied air, Crevan raises his head from the bare bone of the deer hip and goes unnaturally still.

    “Tell me something, oh fearsome one,” He mocks her, never raising his voice. The dark, voidless rims of his indigo eyes burn softly. “Which is more terrifying? Something you can see, or something you never know is coming?”

    Beqanna fears the unknown. Children tucked in beside their parents weave nightmares from nothing. A threat that may or may not be out there leaves an enemy sick with worry and dread. Just think of the plague, ruining life at such a microscopic scale. Sabrina, if she used her dual gifts wisely, could defeat someone without ever having to engage in a fight at all.

    Crevan grew quiet again, content to tear away more skin from the deer and move from eating hips to eating ribs. “You’re pretty terrifying though. I’ll give you that.” He mumbles through a mouthful, feeling his belly expand. A faint grin wrinkles his nose in amusement. “Never took Sinner for the fatherly type, but you certainly seem like something of his making. What’s he up to these days?”



    @[Sabrina]
    Reply
    #8
    She asked about how he and her father knew eachother, what 'work' they did together, but it seemed she would not find her answer today. The wolf allowed a grin to grow on his face, and she just gazed over him.

    The young pup thought she was wise beyond her years, but she wasn't. She barely knew this guy, but something about both being canines forced her to give him trust. She felt comfortable with him, and he seemed only to want to teach her things.

    She speaks boldly, she was never taught how to fear and perhaps one day it will catch up with her. He entertains her little show, he mocks her but she tucks it away as a compliment. He proceeds to ask a question that forces her to sit, a question she had to think about, only for a moment.

    She tilts her head in thought and after a moment she stands back up, her eyes matching his. If you can't see it, why fear it? Life is to short to fear anything, I'll take it head on when it appears. Another bold statement for the pup, but that's how she was raised. If he truly knew her father, would he expect a different answer?

    A few silent moments pass them before the sandy wolf speaks again. A compliment this time, as he says she is terrifying she raises her head just a bit more with a grin ear to ear. Chewing on the flesh of the deer he mentions her father, asking  what he is up to. She quizzically looks at him, it must have been some time since the two ran into eachother. Well, he is the king of Sylva, so he is pretty busy. That was all she really knew, mother and father taught her how to be a princess of the dark kingdom, but they were often times absent. Diplomatic duties she suspects, Where do you live? An important question she seemed to forget to ask earlier.

    @[Crevan]
    Reply
    #9

    Our skin gets thicker, living out in the snow

    CREVAN

    For a minute or two Crevan watches her closely, mulling over his own thoughts about the she-hound and whether or not he should act on his ideas of starting a real pack. Sabrina put her skinny haunches in the dirt and quietly considered the dilemma before her, on hiding oneself or being the type who never shied from the limelight. She’s young, Crevan knew, and he reminded himself of that fact as he weighed options, hopefully not impossibly arrogant. There wasn’t room in his pack for loud mouths.

    Sabrina makes her decision and stands, cutting off the pale wolf’s silent reflection and holding his attention. The more she talks, the more his grin widens. Before the female finishes, Crevan is practically laughing in agreement. No, this creature (different as she was) wasn’t too much of lost cause. She was bold and confident, sure. Clearly eager to prove herself … not pretentious, though.

    Maybe … maybe she would be a good fit for a first packmate.

    “King eh?! Well, good for him.” The big male chuckles darkly. Sinner had always been hungry for that specific crown. Hard work pays off, Crevan thinks. “Busy I’m sure … incredibly busy. You must be bored half the time.” He mutters, something of an afterthought.

    “Ohhhh,” He groans at her question about his home, finally giving up the matter of the dead deer. He lays completely on his side and stretches out, the tight curve of his stomach bulging from being stuffed full. “here and there. Once I lived in Sylva with your dear dad. Long ago I ran with a pack of other shifters.” He smiles, blinking softly. He hopes that last part will catch her attention.

    “We were a fearsome bunch. Taiga was noisy with howling and everyone in Beqanna thought twice about crossing that border.” Crevan sighs. “But those days are gone. If I had it my way I’d start another one, another great pack. Say! -“ He pauses, lifting his heavy head to stare at her with dark blue eyes, “- until I came across you there wasn’t anyone I wanted to run with.”

    Slowly, he propped himself up on an elbow and lay there, contemplating. After a brief moment of quiet he spoke again. “Would you be interested, Sabrina? Together we could be stronger, find others like us and make a new home wherever we liked. Be wolves.” The shapeshifter proposed.

    He smirks, “Or hellhounds. Wolves or Hellhounds.”



    @[Sabrina]
    Reply
    #10
    She was very bold, quiet possibly because she was raised by the rulers of Sylva...possibly because she was a hellhound. She saw how her father was feared, and she must be feared as well because they share a striking resemblance.

    She mentions the crown her father wears and Crevan seems happy for her father. He speaks again and she wonders if he has mind reading powers, he mentions how busy her father is and how bored she must be.

    Yes! She yells out, both her parents were busy equines. She really only had Cast, ever since uncle Corban left. She finds herself bored often, that's why she ventured out today.

    He is smiling and she matches it, she asked about where he resided, why couldn't she smell his kingdom? It was possible all the blood was overpowering her scents, but he unveils that he lives here and there. A nomad,  she thinks to herself, he briefly mentions Sylva but what really caught her attention was when he mentions a wolf pack.

    He goes on to tell her a story, one from the past. He speaks of a pack, They were wild and free, all shifters, feared among beqanna. Her eyes grew wide as she stared at the wolf, her tail wagged with anticipation.

    He mentions he had no one to run a pack with, until he met her. Me!? She thinks to herself, he proceeds to ask her if she wanted to be a part of a new pack, wolf or hellhound. Her eyes remained wide and for only a breath she remained silent.

    ARE YOU KIDDING!? She yelps with excitement, Yes! Let's rule a pack of wolves and hellhounds! Her desire for the pack burns like the desire to hunt, her face gleaming with a smile, staring into the sandy wolf's blue eyes. She wasn't sure what she was getting herself into, or what she would have to give up, but this was what she wanted!

    @[Crevan]
    Reply




    Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)