Pup
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Post by kaz on Jun 20, 2021 6:38:00 GMT
POWER, POWER · THE LAW OF THE LAND When she woke the idea had already embedded itself into her brain like some parasitic worm, consuming and overtaking each part of her until nothing was left but what she must do. There it was in front of her like a prophecy or an inevitable event of which she was the perpetrator. There was no choice. There was only do. She had risen as some fiendish marionette, moved by an invisible force that had brought her here, to his quarters, to find her beloved leader still sleeping before the rising sun, to watch his chest rise and fall and rise and fall for what she knew was the last time. She hadn’t hesitated for fear or nervousness; rather simply to see the life of him before it was stripped away. She knew he must die. That much was clear. His inaction had only weakened their pack’s previous strength. They’d been something to be feared, to be admired and now they were nothing but weak shadows lurking in the darkness, hiding and never daring to take what was rightfully theirs, mere husks of the wolves they once were. The thought of what he had allowed drew her claws into the dirt, set her fur on fire with a fury she had set aside for so long. It only made it easier. She’d moved before she ever knew and suddenly her fangs were tearing into flesh and there was growling and snarling and teeth against fur and who was to say whose was whose. Fangs met skin, briefly they kissed and tore away again and crimson blood fell upon the ground; she did not know whether it was hers. But she could feel her teeth ground into his side and rip away and suddenly there was blood pooling into her mouth and it was thick and bitter but tasted like success and he tore away from her with a yelp that sounded more like some wounded prey animal than her leader and she knew she had the upper hand. Still, their eyes met and the exchange there of hatred and triumph was enough to summon her back into reality, and when he struck again in retaliation she was ready. But he pounded against her with newfound strength, his fangs against her leg, and she fell over backwards onto her side with such force it took the wind from her, but she knew she couldn’t let up. It was kill or be killed. He said her name, or something like it, she couldn’t tell, and he stood over her, his eyes pleading with her to stop but she couldn’t; she’d come this far, she must fulfill her destiny. She must save this pack from the jaws of destruction. The horrible pain from her limb forgotten, she thrust herself upwards. She bowled into him clumsily. Her injury was harming her abilities worse than she would admit but her foe was no better off. He tried to moved to dodge but could not in time and suddenly they were tumbling and she was latched onto his neck with her teeth and he was choking and begging her. Please, he must have said. You do not have to do this. There was fear in his eyes and in this she relished for this was the same fear she had felt when he had allowed their rightful land to be overtaken by usurpers and intruders, and it was with this that she allowed herself to deal the final blow. "You have no strength," she could hear herself saying to her leader, pinned to the ground beneath her paws, and in that moment she felt more powerful than she had ever felt before and her blood pumped so furiously she could hear it. She felt enormous, like some creature only from pup’s tales; fangs large as mountains, claws sharp as eagle’s talons. “You have no conviction.” Her nails dug into his pelt as she knelt to hiss into his ear: “You will die as the dog you have become.” With a hideous snarl, the woman ripped into his throat and tore, and continued on with her disfigurement until he was long dead and unrecognizable, mere indistinguishable bloodied flesh. The sun was rising, then, casting a blood red hue on her deed as the woman licked the gore from her chops, and slowly limped from the den of her previous leader, rising anew as the Centurion slayer, the Usurper. The taste of royal blood sticky in her mouth. Arzanoth stood perched upon a low hanging branch and stared down at her with beady black eyes, expressionless. He turned to look at the red sun glowing between the trees. Akala watched the feathered demon but could discern nothing from him; whatever he was thinking, she could not tell. She looked out through the trees, still dark and misty in the early morning, and sat and waited. THOSE LIVING FOR DEATH · WILL DIE BY THEIR OWN HAND
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See the good in others, even if you have to squint.
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Post by Bri on Jun 29, 2021 5:58:06 GMT
Silver
Thoughts| "Spoken Word | Outside Speech | kaz
Another early morning. Rising before the dew could disappear into the air Silver left her den, stretching under the sunlight that dared peek through the trees. The air was sweet and made her lungs crackle with life as she trotted down to the Citadel. It wasn't long before she was joined by the Shepherd Apprentice Flora. The young she wolf practically bounced with every step, she always had something so positive in the way that she spoke that it made Silver smile, regardless of her move. Every time she gazed upon the young tawny girl she felt pride swell in her heart. She remembered hearing about the tiny pup that had almost frozen to death-her paws left disfigured-and looking upon her she was certain the little thing would die and yet-she persisted and hear she was, defying the odds with a smile pulled across her thin lips. The two made idle chit chat, about to enter into the sacred realm of the Tafa when terror filled barks and howls filled the air. Silver froze from the sound, even as birds erupted from the trees around them, escaping into the air where the Anima wished she could follow while the young girl at her side tucked her tail between her legs, asking what was happening.
Silver offered no respond, turning and bounding away from the Citadel, leaving the little Shepherd to follow, stumbling over each step.
As she got closer Silver felt anxiety rising. The screams were frantic and the howls wild, she could swear she heard undertones of growls and snarls, as if a fight was happening. But, that didn't make sense. There was no reason for anyone to fight here. The Au'Dar were at peace! At least that's what she thought but as she stepped into the denning area of the pack the bitter scent of blood reached her nose, causing her lips to curl. She pushed her way through the other pack members that were formed in a circle. Some were jumping up and down and cheering while others cried for it to stop. The only thing keeping them at bay were the Warrior Garde who ran to see what the ruckus was about but as they got closer it was already too late. The Centurions breathing was labored and he was falling, seeing that he was on Deaths door the Warriors formed a protective circle, walking around two wolves whose battle was nearly over but some blood was spraying out, covering the warrior with sprays of blood. Her eyes instantly landed on a dark male streaked with grey. Her eyes locked with her brother Onyx for a second and the look on his face made her freeze. It was grim, disturbed almost. Onyx was the leader of their siblings, feeling these kinds of emotions, let alone expressing them was cause for alarm. As the Warriors rotated around the battling wolves she made eye contact with each of her three brothers and all their expressions read the same: their world was changing.
"What's going on?" A soft voice whispered from her side, terror laced through the words.
Silver didn't respond, instead she was focused on the two wolves, recognizing their Centurion as one of them. Her heart grew cold when she realized that with every swipe of a claw and gnash of his teeth the old man was losing energy while his opponent persisted. Akala. She didn't know her, but she had heard of her. She was an odd one with an odd enough Tafa to boot. Her gaze flicked upwards, landing on the dismal bird but then words echoed, the world suddenly quiet.
"You have no strength, you have no conviction, you will die as the dog you have become."
Each word stabbed her heart, it was as if the she wolf was being spoken to by her disappointed parents, but this time she was not lucky enough to have the rage turned to her. Instead she watched as her packs leader was reduced to nothing but a pile of crushed bone and shredded meat soaked with blood. She was focused on that pile that all the commotion of the outside world was gone, it was silent.
Finally, she breathed, looking down to the terrified Shepherd. "The world has changed. Keep yourself scarce." She said softly, at least this girl had the option to stay off the radar, as for Silver and the other high ranks...fate would not be as kind. It was as if a blanket of darkness had fallen over the crowd as they waited for the next foot to fall, to see who else would be murdered while their new leader took residence in her new den. For a moment, Silver thought of the now dead Centurions child. A single pup born to carry on the legacy. Judging from the lack of the scent of new blood or sounds of screams it seemed as if the pup wasn't there. Perhaps he had escaped, that's what she hoped, but to be realistic the little one was probably dead. All trace of the royal lineage now left rotting in the ground.
I don't wanna live for nothing Just wanna be something
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its time for a tracker
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Aug 17, 2024 16:22:11 GMT
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Lore Librarian
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Post by Cheshire on Jul 3, 2021 16:35:43 GMT
[nospaces] [attr="class","ilikeyoumain"] [attr="class","ilikeyouhead"] [attr="class","ilikeyouheadimage"] [attr="class","ilikeyouheadtext"] Nuala | Hunter Avant Garde [attr="class","ilikeyouheadsubtext"]You and I will be lost and found a thousand times along this cobbled road [attr="class","ilikeyoutext"]
An unsettling feeling passed over Nuala as she wandered the dark forest swathed in early morning fog and dew. Fion, atop her back as always, seemed especially nervous as well. The Martin was typically carefree, a sharp contrast to his canine partner. She had been up before sunrise, always a restless sleeper ever since the incident. But this time was different, something had awoken her and set her moving. A goal unknown to herself or her tafa. All she knew was that something was dreadfully wrong that morning, as if her world was about to change in a way she had never expected. Her grey tail swished followed by a flick of her ear as her mind became muddled by a concern whose source was unknown. "What is going to happen?" Nuala's question hung answered in the air. Her tafa only seeming to get more agitated by the moment. Her wanderings had taken her far from the den site and now she looked back, apprehensive, an invisible urge telling her she was making a mistake.
[break][break]
Her legs were moving long before her mind registered what had happened. As the first howls broke the silence, she had already begun to move. She had made a mistake, a grave one that could never be corrected. As one of the pack's Avant Garde, she had failed. Again. Fion clung to her back, his fervent chittering the only sound registering in Nuala's mind. As the huntress got closer to the dens, the sounds of fighting echoed in her mind and her memories. It all sounded frighteningly similar to the night her father had died. The snarls and growls peeling through the air. The blood scattered across the ground. But it was not the same. Wolves were cheering, screaming. She was not alone this time. Fion pulled at her fur, more aware of the situation than she was. Akala, Nuala had not known the she-wolf had been so power-hungry, had defeated the Centurion. The Centurion was dead. A detestable act to turn against the Royal Family. But now was not the time for revenge or justice. She could not save the Centurion, not anymore, but there was someone else she could.
[break][break]
Nuala scented the air. Her nose pointed her towards her goal, the late Centurion's mate and last blood heir. Immediately, she was off. The silver she-wolf had mastered tracking in a futile attempt to find her mother. Her mother, the ghostly fae, had been the best tracker of the pack. No matter how Nuala tried, she would never match up to her mother's skill. All the same, she tried. As if by finding her family's last guardian, she might feel the rift that separated her and her siblings and right the wrongs of the past. All the same, she tried. And now she put those skills to test. They were needed now for something more. She had to find them. The huntress ran, faster than she ever had. It was no longer safe for the Royal Family here, not with Akala's murder of the Centurion. She would be abandoning her pack. The Avant Garde would have to trust that those left would take care of the Au'Dar even without her there.
[break][break]
Fion tugged at her fur, directing her attention to a flash of fur in the distance. A snarl ripped through the air as the late Centurion's mate appeared in front of the huntress. The fae's hackles were raised, fear filled her eyes. The last heir cowered behind her, hidden in the roots of a tree. Nuala sank back, "Calm down. I'm here to help." Being an Avant Garde, Nuala had worked closely with the Royal Family. Not as much as the Optio, but more than the average wolf. The Centurion's mate knew her and her loyalty. Realizing who Nuala was, she calmed down, the fight leaving her. The pup came forward, still hiding behind his mother, and looked at her expectantly, hoping. The fae saw herself in the pup. She had also lost her parents at a young age. Before she was even a year old, she had lost both her parents. Now this pup may face the same fate if she failed in her task. Her expression softened, "I'm sorry. Your mate is dead." She withheld the information on his killer. For the time being, she needed them focused on their escape and safety not on thoughts of revenge. As she had been once upon a time.
[break][break]
"We need to leave. To get somewhere safe. Can you run?" The mother nodded and picked up the heir. "I don't know how far we must go nor when we can stop, but we must, at least, leave the territory." Nuala didn't wait for a reply. Her senses had already turned towards their surroundings, ready to pick up on any approach. She didn't know who she could trust anymore. "Run towards the river. I'll be right behind you." The three of them took off with the silver huntress's senses on high alert. Once they arrived at the river, Nuala had them enter it. They would run in the river until they left the territory. Nuala got out several times to trace false tracks through the territory before doubling back, careful to step only in those same tracks. The Avant Garde left little to no trace when she ran, but this time, she made sure to leave them. She had to make it difficult for anyone who chose to side with Akala or Akala herself to find them. Once they had left the territory, they left the river. Nuala had no idea where they would end up or if anyone would help them. But whatever happened, she had to keep the Royal Family alive. And, more than anything, she didn't want the last blood heir to suffer the same fate she had.
[attr="class","ilikeyoufoot"] [attr="class","ilikeyoufoottext"]TAGS: N/A [break] WORDS: 970 [break] NOTES : Nuala has left the valley! They will return eventually. ✵[newclass=".ilikeyoumain"]width:550px;border:solid 1px #eeeeff;margin:5px;background-color:#fff;padding:10px;[/newclass] [newclass=".ilikeyouhead"]height:100px; background-color:#6c7681;padding:10px;[/newclass] [newclass=".ilikeyouheadtext"]color:#eee;text-align:center;padding:15px;text-transform:uppercase;font-size:18px;font-family: 'Lato', sans-serif;[/newclass] [newclass=".ilikeyouheadsubtext"]text-transform:lowercase;width:350px;border-top:solid 1.5px #eeeeff;font-size:12px;font-family: 'Lato', sans-serif;text-align:center;[/newclass] [newclass=".ilikeyouheadimage"]float:right;padding:10px;border:solid 1px #eeeeff;margin:15px;height:120px;width:120px;[/newclass] [newclass=".ilikeyouheadimage img"]height:115px;width:115px;[/newclass] [newclass=".ilikeyoutext"]padding:20px;text-align:justify;font-size:12px; font-family: 'Roboto', sans-serif;[/newclass] [newclass=".ilikeyoutext b"]color:#6c7681;font-size:12px;letter-spacing:.5px;font-style:bold;[/newclass] [newclass=".ilikeyoutext i"]color:#6c7681;font-size:12px;font-style:italic;[/newclass] [newclass=".ilikeyoufoot"]background-color:#6c7681;height:80px;[/newclass] [newclass=".ilikeyoufoottext"]color:#eee;padding:20px;text-align:left;text-transform:uppercase;font-size:10px;font-family: 'Lato', sans-serif;[/newclass] [googlefont="Roboto"][googlefont="Lato"]
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8 posts
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Jul 22, 2021 18:34:08 GMT
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Newcomer
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Post by pesty on Jul 6, 2021 17:38:39 GMT
She tried, she tried her damned hardest to feel settled and at ease with all of these tree-hugging wolves and their quirky creature companions. They took her in, claimed her as one of their own and have been teaching her their ways. No matter what she did or what nice things Naveen or Silver said to her. Wamika just doesn't fit in. There's just been something missing this entire time that she's been with the pack...nothing made sense until she had a private conversation with Akala. That woman could rule the world as far as Wamika is concerned. The opposing she-wolf pointed out the painful obvious fact that this pack was weak. They let everyone trod all over them and jealously guard their forest without taking much action when it's needed. Now is certainly the time for action with the winds of change blowing across the Au'Dar territory. She could hear it this very fine morning, already awake and restlessly on patrol, when the snarls and cries sounded. Akala had made it all so clear to the robust woman. There must be an uprising in order to bring power back to the Au'Dar and they'll all be reborn, bathed in the blood of the useless Centurion. Wamika exhales a cloud of excitement as her ears and tail rise up while she bolts towards the unfolding chapter of freedom and strength for the pack.
Rushing across a grassy gnoll she quickly comes upon the scene, deftly taking her place in the rotating circle of Warrior Garde. Her pale eyes stare luridly at Akala as the she-wolf fights for control, fights to rid the Au'Dar of that weak old fool holding them all back from the start. If any other pack wolves get too close or pushy, Wamika doesn't hesitate to physically reprimand them by biting into a shoulder or leg with a snarl to give the battling wolves plenty of room. The ensuing bloodshed thrills the large woman as it fills her senses with the promise of better things to come. She doesn't fret when the old man seemingly gets the upperhand, has the budding Empress grounded. Wamika doesn't utter a word as she watches on and inwardly wills the struggling female to rise up, to take her rightful place. When Akala indeed finds the strength to push herself forward in a feverish haze of sheer willpower Wamika cannot help but let loose a short bark of excitement and approval. Yes...yes, this is what was missing. Having a proper leader, one strong enough to fight for them all and make those difficult decisions to guide them. Akala was the missing piece of the puzzle the entire time right under the Warrior Garde's nose. Up above in the safety of a tree the ghostly raven named Poe beadily observes the scene down below, every so often glancing over the Tafa of the bloody wolves. With a confident motion Poe takes flight from her perch, swooping over the pandemonium to alight on a branch near the vulture. She lifts her head and parts her beak with her feathers prickling up, a raven's show of meaning no harm. As long as the vulture allowed the smaller avian to remain by his side she would enjoy the view of the rising sun in the bleak morning.
It was over the moment the rising star got up to take the Centurion down. The words that the victor utters illicit further excitement from Wamika who raises her tail as pride swells within her. This feels right. The balance of power has shifted to one who can truly lead. Finally, finally...she feels that she belongs. The Au'Dar is now a pack well suited for a wolf with Wamika's background. She can serve them better than before, she can serve Akala. Wamika remains firm in the ring with the other Warrior Garde and is swift to block anyone trying to go after their rightful new leader with ill will or malicious intent. The large woman notes that Nuala is nowhere to be seen and she inwardly hopes the little miss didn't get herself into any trouble. They had gotten along once upon a time and could have been friends. Now there's a rift dividing the pack between those who supoort Akala, those who helplessly submit to her and then the strays dumb enough to defy the new alpha. Examining the rest of the pack she sizes up their expressions and body language, not allowing any of them to get too close to herself in order to maintain a respectful distance from Akala.
Jet stares in horror at the mangled remains of what was their Centurion. They couldn't even honor him with a proper Au'Dar burial ceremony at this point, there's nothing but torn flesh and some chunks of fur among broken bones. The young Warrior feels his stomach churn so he has to turn away from the grisly scene to follow the bloody paw prints leading up to that damned traitor. This was against everything the peaceful Au'Dar practiced within their way of life. Such disregard for not only another's life, but their physical vessel that carries them with their Tafa in this world...unforgivable. He feels rage bubbling from his stomach now to fill his chest and force a snarl out of his clenched jaws as he lunges. "I'll never call you Centurion, you--" the over eager fighter is cut short, winded as his fellow Warrior Garde, Wamika, is swift to stop him in his tracks by slamming her shoulder into his stomach after coming in from below his lunging position. Loki chitters scoldingly before rushing to his wolf to get between Jet and Wamika with an agitated squeal. Jet coughs and rolls off to the side, hitting up against a rock which causes him to wince and glare at the larger she-wolf who raises her tail with a leer at him. Scrambling to get up he raises his hackles at Wamika before growling loudly to his brother, Onyx, with urgency. "This isn't right, we have to stop them, brother!"
Brows raising in some surprise she gives a bored glance over her shoulder to the usually silent man called Onyx. Would he dare to get in the way next after his squirrely brother? Wamika may have allowed him to follow and guard her when she first started off in the pack, there was a time she would even have taken orders from Onyx. Such times were now in the past with their new order coming into play. Tail flagging the sky she braces her shoulders and hips in case she needs to dodge either one of the troublesome brothers, still tensely waiting to know the opposing male's stance on the matter at hand. She'll have no issue putting both of these fools in their places. They shouldn't dare try to waste their alpha's time. Instead, they'll have to put up with Mika.
He'd been out early with Raphael allowing some of the gentle young Tafa early morning play. Once things started to go south from the sounds of things and the iron filled scent of blood on the wind the Shepherd Garde urgently coaxes the Tafa back within the Citadel and makes certain they all are well hidden before taking his leave. Naveen almost wished he had stayed in the Citadel rather than witness the fall of the Centurion. Turning his head away in despair he swiftly finds Silver and young Flora with a shiver, touching his muzzle to theirs in need of some comfort while greeting them. "I...I fear for the future. This was too violent, this...this won't be an act the spirits will take lightly. I can't be here right now...I-I'll be with the Tafa." he would seek solace within his duties to try to avoid his disturbed thoughts. Wamika has clearly sided with the infernal Akala and he was the one who introduced her to the pack. What curse had he brought upon them? Naveen's eyes sting as he glances one last time over the remains of what had been the Centurion, refusing to look at the one who massacred him. Returning to the Citadel he couldn't make sense of the attack. Why couldn't they have just left, started their own? Why absolutely destroy the Royal Family line? It was the sacred tie that held the Au'Dar, made them whole. Now they were all broken. Through his sniffles as he tries to assuage his own tears he can detect a familiar scent--Nuala had gone this way instead of into the pandemonium. With urgency he clears his throat and calls the Tafa over, having them stampede and roll around to cover the she-wolf's trail with their own scents. Some of the critters play while others warily find plant matter to chow down on. Even the Tafa were uneasy with the blanket of dismal foreboding covering the Au'Dar territory.
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Pup
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Post by kaz on Jul 6, 2021 19:41:33 GMT
POWER, POWER · THE LAW OF THE LAND
They gathered around her as if she were a circus animal performing some sick trick, some cheering, egging her on, others horrified, inhaling sharply, begging her to stop. She went on. And on and on until nothing was left of the man and it was only the victor rising, alive, panting and bloodied, and the breeze in the air matted her bloody fur and sent a chill through her. Her head down between her shoulders she caught her breath and with eyes glittering with the maddening fever of combat she stared up at the wolves surrounding her, her wolves now. Wolves she had dined and fought with and slept beside yet few of them she held any affection for. Then she stepped forward as a barrier between the usurper and the rest of the wolves, or perhaps she had already been there before, protecting her, her form lost to Akala in the fog of war. Akala regarded the woman, the closest she’d had to an ally in this forsaken pack, her eyes holding some amount of fondness, if one could call it that. Appreciation, perhaps. Or perhaps there was nothing behind those pallid blue eyes. She turned to the other wolves, watching each of their faces, until her gaze fell upon the Anima. A weak little girl. Her family had known it too. Yet she’d grown to be respected. Akala eyed her carefully. It would be a shame if that one were to leave. Could fracture the entire pack. She’d have to be careful. She licked the gore from her chops and took in a breath to address her new pack, but before she could speak, a snarl rang out, a shout, desperate. “I’ll never call you Centurion, you — !” Akala saw his form rising from the crowd, fangs bared, and though tired and battered, she stiffened, set her body in preparation. Yet his fangs never reached her. Wamika disposed of him as easily as one swatting away a fly. He landed harshly and called to his brother, “This isn’t right! We have to stop them!”Anger pulsed through the empress anew, setting her fur afire, blinding her. A hideous growl and she lunged toward the fallen Warrior, stopping short before him, staring down with wild eyes and lips curled furiously. “Stop me?” she snarled. “Stop me?” Her voice was rising, every word a booming roar. “I am Zarmir reincarnate! I am fire and I am death, and I will be the one to breathe life back into this derelict and pathetic pack!” She was spitting her anger was so intense. She turned her back on the wolf to address the rest of her wolves, trusting Wamika to protect her from the Warrior. “Who will join me and who will run with their tails tucked between their legs?” she howled. “Hmm? Who among you are warriors and who are but spineless dogs unwilling to fight for your pack?”“This is the path to retribution. This is our future. No longer shall we hide in the shadows of others whose blood runs hotter than our own. We have sat by and allowed this land to be infiltrated by infidels and blood-thirsty cretins. No more!” Her fur was standing on end, eyes wide and staring, bloodied fangs still bared and trailing spit in her fervor. Arzanoth flapping his great wings above her like some harbinger of death. “We will take what is rightfully ours. We will become a pack to be respected and feared.” She glanced back at Jet, the growl rumbling up in her throat, her words addressed to him and to all. “I ask again: who among you is truly strong?”
THOSE LIVING FOR DEATH · WILL DIE BY THEIR OWN HAND
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See the good in others, even if you have to squint.
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Post by Bri on Jul 11, 2021 2:06:02 GMT
Silver
Thoughts| "Spoken Word | Outside Speech | Tag "I'll never call you Centurion, you--"
The chillingly familiar voice made Silver snap from her trance, eyes snapping over as one of her brothers was slammed to the ground. Every muscle in her body tensed, every ounce of her believed that she was about to witness another death, was she ready for the blood of the family that betrayed her to color the ground?
"This isn't right, we have to stop them, brother!"
Of course Jet wouldn't call for her. Why would she expect him to?
Turning her attention to her other brother, the oldest, the one who was meant to be their guide in what was right, she saw him there, a statue with eyes that were cold. Seeing him not moving sent a fire up the Anima's spine. Oh the irony, she thought bitterly. The big brother who always said he was so important because he had to protect them was refusing to move and she knew it wasn't fear that kept those paws in place. There was a reason she didn't trust that brother, resented him the most after all these years.
Her gaze flickered to the small shepherd besides her, seeing Flora's eyes wide with tears. "Back to the Citadel. Now." She said lowly, but before the last word could pass her maw the white wolf ran across the circle, tail raised as she slid across the dirt, standing in front of her brother Jet, lips curled back slightly.
"Wamika," she said, her voice void of emotion, her eyes hard, "let no more blood be spilled. Besides, we have more important matters to focus on." With each word her voice rose. It was time to put on the show of her life. The tensions were high and she felt that if any step in the wrong direction was made, there would be a pack wide massacre. Silver kept her head high, though below her Wynd was between her front legs, ready to lung upwards if needed, the badger wasn't afraid to show his teeth. "History has been made." she announced, turning her head to face Akala. Just looking at her made the Anima want to vomit. There was something wrong behind those eyes-the feeling solidified as the new Centurion announced her claim of being their God.
There was no reasoning to be found here. Now was a time to lay low. That's what Silvers gut was telling her. "Make it be known that today the Au'Dar are lead by Akala." She continued, looking across the circle to her older brother, who regarded her and their brother with emotionless eyes. The divide between them was bigger than ever before.
I don't wanna live for nothing Just wanna be something
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Plotter
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304 posts
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its time for a tracker
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Aug 17, 2024 16:22:11 GMT
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Lore Librarian
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Post by Cheshire on Jul 21, 2021 20:43:53 GMT
[nospaces] [attr="class","ilikeyoumain"] [attr="class","ilikeyouhead"] [attr="class","ilikeyouheadimage"] [attr="class","ilikeyouheadtext"] Leocadio | Shepherd Garde [attr="class","ilikeyouheadsubtext"]Storms make trees take deeper roots [attr="class","ilikeyoutext"]
The black-hearted shepherd attended to his duties that morning. He moved through the motions ensuring each tafa was well. It was almost robotic if not for the obvious diligence. To the passing eye, he would a dista, a wolf without a tafa, but looking closer would reveal a discoloring around his silvery, white neck. Every now and then, the fur rustle and part revealing the striped scales of a many-horned adder, dangerous but not deadly. That was where Iro liked to stay, curled around his wolf's neck like a scaled necklace or, perhaps, a noose.
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As the noise of battle reached his ears, chestnut brown eyes lifted from his tasks. A gaze so like his sister's, the iron-hearted huntress, eyes and yet so different. His gaze was filled with no warmth and no kindness, just a simple stoic stare. Leocadio's mind was difficult to read, even more so in that moment. Iro slithered around his neck. Just as his partner appeared, he seemed unmoved by any of the noise. The shepherd garde moved with an unconcerned gait towards the bustle as if he was going for a casual visit to see a friend or family member. Whatever was happening, he was vaguely interested but unconcerned.
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He broke through the foliage surrounding the den site to come upon the dueling forms, or what used to be the dueling forms, of his Centurion and a she-wolf by the name of Akala. A swarm of spectators circled the wolves. By all accounts, the Centurion was dead. A fact he noted as a simple thing. Looking on, his expression had not wavered one bit from the stone-like face. That was until a certain scent wafted his way. For a moment, his maw twisted into a murderous scowl before falling back into a harsh glare, one that mirrored his late mother's ice. Nuala was here. Leo's dark gaze fell on the Hunter Avant Garde as she entered the area. Once more, his dear little sister had failed. It was almost laughable if not for how sad it was. Her failure had killed their parents and shattered their family. Now it would end their glorious leader. His eyes trailed her as she dashed off, no doubt in search of that runt of a heir. Whatever it was, he would not have to lay eyes on that disappointment again.
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Shouting drew his attention back to the commotion. It seemed there were dissenters among their ranks. Of course there would be. Something like this didn't happen in the Au'Dar. Their transfers of power had always been peaceful, but now, a smirk slithered its way across his maw, things were changing. Pushing his way through the crowd, by the time he came to stand before Akala his expression had returned to its natural stoic ice. His gaze fell on the Anima Silver, the briefest glint of a leer present in them. So this was what their eminent Anima was like when it came down to it. This brazen she-wolf had claimed herself a god and turned against their beloved Royal Family and yet she made no move against it. The rank of Anima held power and yet she refused to use it. Truly pathetic. That was alright with him, it made things all that much simpler.
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Unlike his sister, the great Avant Garde, he had no deep loyalties to the pack. The one thing he pledged his loyalties to was the tafa. They were the ones he had pledged to protect and care for. As such, he had no issue with changing leaders. His umber eyes, the mirror of Nuala's yet what lay behind them could not be more different, fell on Akala, sizing up her worth as their next Centurion. Regardless of how she appeared, her actions spoke more than anything. She was enough. "If you will protect the tafa, then I pledge my loyalty to you," Leocadio intoned, his voice even. The striped coil around his neck shifted. The head of Iro lifted from the sides of his wolf to stare with a gaze just as unmoved at the new Centurion. A black tongue flickered out before the snake buried itself in its partner's fur once more, camouflaged among the sheets of white. Leocadio bowed, the black-hearted shepherd living up to his name, "Centurion Akala."
[attr="class","ilikeyoufoot"] [attr="class","ilikeyoufoottext"]TAGS: Bri kaz[break] WORDS: 720 [break] NOTES : Leocadio's first post! ✵[newclass=".ilikeyoumain"]width:550px;border:solid 1px #eeeeff;margin:5px;background-color:#fff;padding:10px;[/newclass] [newclass=".ilikeyouhead"]height:100px; background-color:#6c7681;padding:10px;[/newclass] [newclass=".ilikeyouheadtext"]color:#eee;text-align:center;padding:15px;text-transform:uppercase;font-size:18px;font-family: 'Lato', sans-serif;[/newclass] [newclass=".ilikeyouheadsubtext"]text-transform:lowercase;width:350px;border-top:solid 1.5px #eeeeff;font-size:12px;font-family: 'Lato', sans-serif;text-align:center;[/newclass] [newclass=".ilikeyouheadimage"]float:right;padding:10px;border:solid 1px #eeeeff;margin:15px;height:120px;width:120px;[/newclass] [newclass=".ilikeyouheadimage img"]height:115px;width:115px;[/newclass] [newclass=".ilikeyoutext"]padding:20px;text-align:justify;font-size:12px; font-family: 'Roboto', sans-serif;[/newclass] [newclass=".ilikeyoutext b"]color:#6c7681;font-size:12px;letter-spacing:.5px;font-style:bold;[/newclass] [newclass=".ilikeyoutext i"]color:#6c7681;font-size:12px;font-style:italic;[/newclass] [newclass=".ilikeyoufoot"]background-color:#6c7681;height:80px;[/newclass] [newclass=".ilikeyoufoottext"]color:#eee;padding:20px;text-align:left;text-transform:uppercase;font-size:10px;font-family: 'Lato', sans-serif;[/newclass] [googlefont="Roboto"][googlefont="Lato"]
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8 posts
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Jul 22, 2021 18:34:08 GMT
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Newcomer
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Post by pesty on Jul 22, 2021 18:42:12 GMT
The robust woman awaits her fellow Warrior Garde's decision. He certainly makes no move to get in between herself and his foolish little brother nor does he have any scornful words towards their new leader. In fact, Onyx remains as a statue which solidifies the side that this man has chosen and he's chosen wisely. She still keeps a watchful eye on him even as his younger sibling incites a tirade from the incensed Akala. Wamika isn't about to allow anyone to get too close to their Centurion unless the dark empress herself chose to move within their space. There's no remorse or softness to be found in Mika's pale gaze. Only confidence and pride knowing that the Au'Dar pack will finally be lifted to the pedestal of power and respect that they all so rightfully deserve. Poe flutters down from the tree's branches above to land on the Warrior Garde's broad hips and begin combing her beak through Mika's thickly furred haunches, eyes jealously fixating themselves on the rest of the pack surrounding the grisly scene. The albino raven would have no issue in launching herself at someone's eyeballs should they move offensively. Those pearly feathers ruffle up so the raven can make herself appear larger than she actually is, feeling the need to puff up in the heat of the moment.
After the Centurion's words, Wamika could see the disdain from Jet as well as the wary steps the Anima starts to take. Silver has always been the wisest and wasn't going to be foolish by trying to make a scene like her hasty brother. At the lady's words, Wamika bows her head respectfully, for she still looks up to Silver. "Of course, Anima. There'll be no further need for bloodshed." she'd keep the pups in line if need be. Akala shouldn't have to overexert herself by dirtying her paws all over after erasing that weak coward to only be known in Au'Dar history now. Feeling no need to voice an answer as her actions speak for her the large woman glances at Onyx again and still he remains as a statue with unspoken understanding. Clearly another wise sibling among that litter. He accepts the evolution developing within the Au'Dar pack. A renewed wave of respect rolls through her and she feels so comfortable as to take her eyes off of Onyx to observe his younger brother, Jet, slinking off with his tail tucked between his legs. Perhaps that one and a handful of others would simply need time to adjust to these new changes in leadership. If they took too long they could always be chased off or all together extracted from this world to join the ex-Centurion in Au'Dar's history.
She steps aside to allow the rest of the pack to voice their choices and opinions, those she would allow for words are simply that; words. Should any of them move aggressively towards Akala they'd be body rushed by the female Warrior Garde, just chomping at the bit to release the primal instincts from her past so tightly infused with blood. Now that's not to say that Mika isn't without a soft spot here or there. Nav especially so, he has been a dear friend to her and even something akin to a brother. He looked absolutely horrified at the scene, then again the Shepherd Garde has always been vocal about how he feels about violence so perhaps he too would need time to adjust. At least they had him to look after the Tafa which are so sacred and integrated within the Au'Dar way. Another of the pack's Shepherd Garde steps forth to make their decision known and she can feel the tension ebbing away from her body as Poe continues to groom Mika's thick fur. The balance has shifted and is settling down in place, all of the pieces of the puzzle were coming together impeccably.
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Pup
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Post by kaz on Jul 23, 2021 4:45:57 GMT
POWER, POWER · THE LAW OF THE LAND
Her blood pumped hot and furiously through her body, throbbing against her ears like some raging river, so loud she scarcely heard the Anima Silver, who had taken up position before her brother, speak up. Her eyes gave nothing away as Akala stared down at her sharply, breath ragged, the fever from battle still burning within her. “History has been made,” said the girl. “Make it known that today the Au’Dar are lead by Akala.” The Empress fitted her with a narrowed gaze, perhaps attempting to decipher what lay behind the white wolf’s eyes. Was it true fealty or simply a hope for peace? The new Centurion would need the Anima in the future, she knew; but if in the future Silver proved herself disloyal, there were ways of convincing her. Or of making the problem disappear altogether.
Akala could see that this would not be too big a task for Wamika, could see it in her eyes and the way she protectively stood beside Akala, muscles tensed, prepared to fight on behalf of her new leader. Prepared to do anything, seemingly. “Of course, Anima. There’ll be no further need for bloodshed.” A dip of the head. Akala could feel a growl rising in her throat watching Wamika bend to Silver in such a way, but she couldn’t risk losing Mika’s loyalty here and now. Claws digging into the dirt, she turned away from the two she-wolves, fire raging within her.
There before her stood a wolf, white-pelted, wearing upon his neck a snake like some medallion. Akala stopped and looked at him. Leocadio was his name. She hadn’t known him well, hadn’t really known any of the shepherds well. They often held such soft-hearted, naive dispositions. But there was something about this one that she respected, perhaps it was that she could never really decipher his intentions. She’d heard whispers about him and his sister, especially after their father was killed. A peculiar family. “If you protect the tafa, then I pledge my loyalty to you,” said the wolf, the snake’s skin around his neck glittering occasionally in the sun. He bowed his head. “Centurion Akala.” Her skin shivered upon hearing it; how it befit her.
She glanced upward through the trees to meet eyes with Arzanoth who stared back down at her blankly. There was nothing in his black eyes but still she felt she could sense his thoughts better than her own at times. She was not a sentimental woman but the bond between wolf and tafa was strong and, she knew, must be protected no matter the cost. It was a wonder how wolves of other packs could get on without them. “You are truly a wolf of valor, Leocadio. You have my word.” She turned as if to leave, then paused and faced him again. “It is such a shame your sister seems to have run off somewhere,” said Akala slowly, watching to gauge the man’s expression. She didn’t think they were close, but familial bonds may push even the most loyal wolves to committing acts of treason. “But perhaps courage was only passed down to the one of you.”
THOSE LIVING FOR DEATH · WILL DIE BY THEIR OWN HAND
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https://venturisventis.boards.net/thread/26/wolf-totem
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Plotter
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401 posts
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See the good in others, even if you have to squint.
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Administrator
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Post by Bri on Aug 3, 2021 3:17:36 GMT
Silver
Thoughts| "Spoken Word | Outside Speech | Tag
All those years of masking her true emotions were coming in handy. As soon as Wamika spoke the Anima wanted to snarl at her. At the girl she had reached out to help only to have her betray the secretive pack that allowed her in. Thinking of how passionately she advocated for a second chance made bile rise in her throat. Perhaps the pack had a point in keeping to themselves. No. The voice in her head snapped. Even though the anger within her was raging like the sea she contained herself and surely had learned from her mistake. She wouldn't trust so readily again. Her face was impassive as she stared at the female backing the new tyrant, though for a moment she was grateful for her for speaking up. For some reason Akala liked the girl and for now she was saited as she addressed one of the other Shepherds.
Silver turned her head, laying eyes on a glaring brute. Leocadio. An odd choice for a Shepherd, she hadn't been able to deny the thought but she also couldn't turn away those that heard the call of the Tafa. She eyed the male, gaze impassive though she anger grew. Were there others in the pack who were ready to follow this dark path? Could they not see the future blood shed? Their numbers were still so small, could they handle more anger? Perhaps, the voice in her head whispered, this is the cue to go. But could she really turn her back on the innocent members of her pack? She thought of Flora and Naveen. Akala gave her word to protect the Tafa, but how could that be trusted? The Anima's thoughts were a jumble and she wanted to leave, but her conscious wouldn't allow her to.
The snowy girl turned her eyes down to her brother Jet, searching his gaze, finally revealing an emotion in hers: unease, but as quick as it was there it was gone, gaze impassive. "I'm done here," she said softly, "I encourage you to follow suit." She said then lifted her head, turned her gaze over the crowd before walking away, directing herself towards the Citadel with her grumpy badger walking at her side, his haunches bristled.
I don't wanna live for nothing Just wanna be something
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Plotter
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304 posts
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its time for a tracker
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Aug 17, 2024 16:22:11 GMT
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Lore Librarian
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Post by Cheshire on Aug 4, 2021 18:08:16 GMT
[nospaces] [attr="class","ilikeyoumain"] [attr="class","ilikeyouhead"] [attr="class","ilikeyouheadimage"] [attr="class","ilikeyouheadtext"] Leocadio | Shepherd Garde [attr="class","ilikeyouheadsubtext"]Storms make trees take deeper roots [attr="class","ilikeyoutext"]
Leocadio raised his head following his declaration. His chestnut eyes, as impassive as his snake's, flicked to the warrior garde with such clear loyalties. Wamika. The outsider. The fact that an outsider seemed to stand as the right-hand to Akala draw a bitter taste for the white shepherd. The Au'Dar had a long history when dealing with outsiders, and not all of it was good. Whenever he looked at the scarred fae, he was reminded of the tafa massacre a decade ago. It was a black mark on their history and careful care of the beloved tafas, one that they may never recover from. To keep an outsider as her right hand, that was something Leo could not approve of no matter how she had supposedly proved herself. He would still support Akala, but Wamika was an outsider he would never accept.
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His attention returned to the newly-crowned Centurion. 'A wolf of valor.' The words almost made him laugh. He was well-known as the black-hearted shepherd. In their eyes, he had no morals and nothing but disdain for his fellow packmates. The type to sell out his packmates if it meant saving his own skin. Well, they were right after all. He was nothing but a snake. All the more fitting that his tafa was one. There was not one wolf in this pack that would unironically call him that. It seemed that was not the case. There was at least one. They were off about one thing though. His loyalties were with his family and the tafa. For them and only them, his life meant nothing. Akala's answer to his request had been as expected for one that would lead the Au'Dar. It was satisfactory and nothing more.
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Akala's next words though forced an ugly sneer across his maw. Perhaps the one emotion that he could not hide. Pure and utter hatred his useless little sister. Nuala. That name. That existence had no place in his world. That craven fae had destroyed their family. Their other siblings may still welcome her, but Leo held nothing but disgust for his little sister. How she, over any of their siblings, had made it to that vaunted position baffled him. What the pack had seen in that cur to raise her up so eluded him. They say she bested a mountain lion, had the scar to prove it and everything. Leo believed not a shred of it. Nuala had failed utterly to save their father. How could she ever have had the strength for such a feat. A recreant. That was all she would ever be.
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"Unfortunately," his voice dripped with venom, as if his fangs held the same ability as Iro's, "I don't know where she could have crawled off to." It was the truth. Leo knew nothing of where his sister had. She was likely the best tracker among them though it irritated him to admit it. There was no doubt she had hidden her trail impeccably. She was likely long gone by now. Iro slithered around his neck. His tafa's movements cooling his hatred. The adder was agitated. By what, Leo had no idea. The snake often seemed to know more than him. Whatever it was was a matter for later. His lips curled back. Amusement and contempt in equal measure. "That is one thing you are wrong about, Centurion. Nuala was not born a coward, but a fool." With that last statement, the shepherd made to leave. He had left his duties unfinished, and they needed to be done.
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[attr="class","ilikeyoufoot"] [attr="class","ilikeyoufoottext"]TAGS: kaz [break] WORDS: 585 [break] NOTES : N/A ✵[newclass=".ilikeyoumain"]width:550px;border:solid 1px #eeeeff;margin:5px;background-color:#fff;padding:10px;[/newclass] [newclass=".ilikeyouhead"]height:100px; background-color:#6c7681;padding:10px;[/newclass] [newclass=".ilikeyouheadtext"]color:#eee;text-align:center;padding:15px;text-transform:uppercase;font-size:18px;font-family: 'Lato', sans-serif;[/newclass] [newclass=".ilikeyouheadsubtext"]text-transform:lowercase;width:350px;border-top:solid 1.5px #eeeeff;font-size:12px;font-family: 'Lato', sans-serif;text-align:center;[/newclass] [newclass=".ilikeyouheadimage"]float:right;padding:10px;border:solid 1px #eeeeff;margin:15px;height:120px;width:120px;[/newclass] [newclass=".ilikeyouheadimage img"]height:115px;width:115px;[/newclass] [newclass=".ilikeyoutext"]padding:20px;text-align:justify;font-size:12px; font-family: 'Roboto', sans-serif;[/newclass] [newclass=".ilikeyoutext b"]color:#6c7681;font-size:12px;letter-spacing:.5px;font-style:bold;[/newclass] [newclass=".ilikeyoutext i"]color:#6c7681;font-size:12px;font-style:italic;[/newclass] [newclass=".ilikeyoufoot"]background-color:#6c7681;height:80px;[/newclass] [newclass=".ilikeyoufoottext"]color:#eee;padding:20px;text-align:left;text-transform:uppercase;font-size:10px;font-family: 'Lato', sans-serif;[/newclass] [googlefont="Roboto"][googlefont="Lato"]
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