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Post by Deleted on Jun 1, 2019 23:52:55 GMT -8
Stanley suddenly found himself alone, lost in the maze that the caves were. The male had just been tosed into a small, branched off cavity of the rocky hole, with no clue nor instructions. Are they planning to just leave me here to starve? Stanley thought, but quickly went against the morbid idea. It wasn't their modus operandi, no. Both Mortiul and Ignasia's members went in themselves for the kill. Neither Adramalech's nor Koga's side would let the opportunity of punishing a traitor go to waste. But just what is taking them so long?
Despite his isolated position, Stan could hear diverse conversations going on. Analyzing the sounds coming from the small, yet abundant holes on the walls, the he started figuring out which voice belonged to who. The pup's, Maleah, Ky's, even Adramalech's voice was present on the cave. It seemed that every single member of both packs was present. Scanning the various sources of sound however, the male was able to identify his name on one of the sentences pronounced by none other than the Alpha of Mortiul himself. "Stanley has a trial by combat. He is put against another wolf of our choosing, and should he win, he’s allowed to live. If he loses, he dies by his opponents fangs. One wolf dies, one wolf lives,” said Adramalech, making a pause. That seems more like it, thought the imprisoned slave, wondering who will be sent to finish him off for once and for all.
Beelzebub? Ky? Maybe even Cayden? The only thing Stanley knew for sure, is that he couldn't keep up with any of those wolves. They were stronger, more experienced in every way. Even after Vivaldi's harsh training, the slave came to the realization that it just wasn't enough. Adramalech's conversation kept on going, bursting his thought bubble up. “You," spoke the alpha, with a harsh and authoritary tone, far different to the one the black and tall male used commonly to refer to any of the aforementioned subordinates. "You will fight Stanley. I would suggest putting forth your best effort. Your master would not want you to die so quickly.” Sooner than later, paws hitting the ground could be heard closer and closer to his position. Stanley took a stance, but his pathetic efforts were thwarted by a particurarly strong jaw, that carried him over to a ring-like stage, by the scruff. Managing to free himself from the captor's grasp, the orange male looked around him, confusedly.
Surrounded by faces he knew, Stanley looked at them all, eye to eye, trying to guess who'd come for him. But none of them stepped up, some weren't even looking at him. Turning around, the Ignasian slave found himself looking at a slim, hurt and scared looking wolf. Ronin, one of the pack's many enslaved members had been adressed to fight him, until one of them fell down dead. None of the two on-ring wolves wanted this. Stanley could see it, he could feel his opponent's fear radiating. Sighing in defeat against the situation, the orange wolf walked towards Ronin, taking a stand yet again, movement which the black and white male copied rushedly and nervously. Deciding to throw the first stone, Stan side-stepped towards his oponent, lifting his front paws up and scratching the black and white male's torso, making him recoil in pain.
The Ignasian male repeated the process two more times, each more awkwardly and clumsily than the last. The fact that his opponent didn't even try to defend himself made the male feel like a monster, like he was no better than those who had deceived them into this life of misery and submission. "Fight back!" Stanley shouted, trying to the wake the taller male's up from his trance. "I don't want to fight!" answered Ronin, his voice breaking mid-sentence, tears appearing to stream down his face. Frustrated and angry with everything happening around him, the orange wolf charged at the unresponsive male before him, digging fangs swiftly into his shoulders, pulling in every direction upon contact.
Separating his canines from the newly open wound, Stanley took a few step back and lunged at Ronin yet again, hitting the male in his torso and bringing him down. Why won't he defend himself? was the question that ricocheted time and time again on his mind. He watched his opponent shakingly get back into his feet, looking down at the ground as he did so. None of this was fair, none of them deserved this. The ignasian slave was trying to avoid killing this innocent as much as he could, but for how long? Koga and the others would eventually realize, and finish them both themselves. Looking back at his spectators, Stan contemplated the idea of making a run for it, to at least try and escape this hellish place by paw force alone. Concentrating back onto the fight, his face encountered claws, that ran across it thoroughly.
A portion of his vision was completely flooded by crimson fluids, as a frenzied Ronin started a barrage of bites and scratches that injured the orange male's front body. The black and white slave, completely out of his mind, started a flurry of mindless yet effective attack on Stanley, who began to feel his body failing, his attacks weaken and his movements slowing down. Ronin, out of instinct more than knowledge, managed to dig his teeth into the orange male's throat, biting down hard, eventually ripping a chunk out. As oxygen faded away and his vision faltered, Stanley managed to catch a glimpse out of Maleah, who spectated the encounter, horrorized.
As the crazied Ronin devoured more and more pieces of him, the now free wolf felt himself flying, finally escaping the tortures, the beating and the abuse.
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Post by Deleted on Jun 2, 2019 14:36:35 GMT -8
The new Noctis bitch naturally obliged him. For all her tearful, glassy-eyed terror, she followed her commands well, taking mouthful after mouthful without gagging. Of course, she hesitated some, in her flamboyant, dramatic fashion, but even she knew the consequences that would arise from refusal would be far worse than losing a bit of autonomy. Besides, she’d blossom with pups shortly — even if she wasn’t expecting them now, she would be within the month. As she ate, he couldn’t resist the urge to slip a shadowy tail against her auburn sides and tease at her flat underbelly, a raucously cruel reminder of how she could soon expect her life to shift. She was such a perfectly terrific little toy, and to think, he’d known her all of an hour. Oh, to imagine what time would bring! If she thought this was the worst, most horrible moment of her life, he’d educate her quite soundly on such matters. The worst was only yet to come. This cannibalism would seem wonderfully, sensationally natural in comparison to the torture her future held in store. By the end of it all, she’d beg for something as simple as eating a meal as fine as this one. “Stop.” He commanded. Perhaps he’d pushed her too far in forcing her to stuff herself with far more than any wolf would eat in one sitting, but he’d done her a great service. Now, any meal would pale in comparison to this one.
Not two minutes after he relieved her of duty she heaved up her insides. Flecked ears flattened as haunches arched, his voice hinged with reckless barely-contained rage. “I should force you to lick that back up, wasting good food—” But before he could grasp her by her scruff and force her into finishing the entire length of Tern’s entrails, Marusya, Maleah, and Cayden returned, a slave and quintet of pups in tow. He regarded the ensuing conversation with a tepid, dull trace of interest. Stanley had proven himself to be traitorous, and would be requiring the necessary punishment. Adramalach expressed few qualms in selecting his slave to carry the task out. His ears twitched in utter indifference. So be it. Perhaps this would finally give Ronin the courage he needed to ascend from a Mortiul’s slave’s low status (to speak nothing of the meal he’d promised earlier.) For now, he was focused on infinitely more pressing matters, such as the beautiful alabaster bitch that appeared to be attempting to escape. Oh, how utterly delightful — honestly, did the lass believe she blended in with a pelt that perfectly white? Shamelessly, he sidled over to her from behind, sinking his fangs into her ivory scruff without so much as a warning. A step and he dropped her in front of Vivaldi. The Noctis girl was his by rank and privilege, but he would have to ask before claiming another to breed.
“Vivaldi,” he began, unable to conceal a sharp, jarring sneer. “I believe this girl would like to be made a mother — and, given what she just saw transpire, I believe she would like my lovely assistance in this task. If it pleases you, would you grant her this gift?” Vivaldi proceeded to grant him little more than a dip of her head, a flash of her eyes, but such was enough from her. If she’d any sort of tangible opposition, she would have voiced it instantaneously. Maybe this’d make an otherwise useless arrival worth her while. The she-wolf pathetically shook at her answer, unable to so much as lift her frosted head from where it lift. “Oh come now,” he cruelly hissed as he circled her. "It’s well past time you’ve born your first litter. A little bit older,” Beel admitted, yanking her back by the scruff. “But pretty enough. We’ll have a good bout of it now, hmm? Just don’t go fussing too much now. I hate that.” Jerking her slightly harder than necessary, he paused, lingering at the same tunnel where he’d taken his Noctis bitch. “Not a word? Smart. Shame you didn’t apply it.” He sneered, dragging her into dark, unforgiving depths.
Momentary Time Skip/Exit To Commons
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Post by Deleted on Jun 5, 2019 12:06:59 GMT -8
Unlike any of the other rouges Vivaldi had plucked, Flint knew exactly what to expect from a land as savage as this. Already, pungent, arid scents wafted from the tunnels to which they were being led; familiar and foreign all at once. Flint briefly faltered, attempting to assign a name to it as unwitting crimson pools coated the bottom of his pawpads. There was the sharpest, briefest sizzle; and all at once he knew. The steam that spilled from warm, freshly-torn guts, only instead of a buck, it was but Mortiul’s own. His stomach twisted stiffly as he attempted to suppress his nausea. Perhaps they had gone hunting before they brought in the newcomers, feasting on the flesh of the innocent, helpless, those too weak to even be considered as part of the pack. It could have been him, Ebony, and Lluise on the platter, had they been in the wrong place at the wrong time — and with a revolted, sudden realization, he knew their “test.” What better way to separate the truly vicious from the faint-hearted? He stiffened his torso, drawing himself high. No matter what, he would not allow himself to be outed. It was only a test.
From what he’d witnessed first-hand, Mortiul harbored a particularly savage pride in the brutal cruelty of their kills. These were no different. A young adolescent she-wolf, no more than six months, was flaying another adolescent— alive. Two other adolescents, who he could only assume to be her siblings, watched on, jaws dripping with desire. What they watched were no ordinary youths, raised from birth to be fearsomely blood-thirsty. He knew these types. After all, hadn’t his family tried their absolute hardest to make him one? Their parents doubtlessly praised violence, encouraging any possible act evoking trouble for the whole litter to solve, and as a result, had raised geniuses of war, masters of combat, and curators of destruction. Nothing would satisfy them but the squelch of skin from their fangs, the crunch of bones in between their teeth. The girl already seemed remarkably satisfied with her clever handiwork, but if he knew anything of this sort, he’d say that was an odd, rare occasion. Blood pooled at his auburn pools. Looking around, he watched as the most savage of the bunch dipped their muzzles to lap from the flushed puddles. Languidly, he lowered his own, taking care to ensure every bit of his posture appeared relaxed, at ease, contented. There was a time when he would have savored a drink as rare as this. Now was the time to remember.
The following yearling was slain as savagely as the last. Flaxen eyes fastened themselves to the wolves beyond that, like the midnight-dark monstrosity that watched eagerly with his pair of pups, transfixed by the sights, the sounds, the smells that erupted as the auburn male parted the victim from his skull. Now that was a male well worth fearing. Lithely, he lifted himself from his perch, wordlessly pouring over each and every prospect his Alphess had selected. “Prove your loyalty to my pack by eating. If you don’t, you will be killed on the spot.” He affirmed his tone harsh, crass. Just as he suspected — but, judging by others’ reactions, it seemed few had even thought to go there to start. Feyre appeared puny, helpless, even more so than she already did. Despite the attempts to convince her cooperation, she remained steadfast. That is, until the Beta caught wind of her obstinate refusals and decide to amend her errors, through the most morose, blood-curdling mocking he’d ever heard. His intentions were incredibly, remarkably clear, perverse as they were, and despite Feyre’s desperate pleas, he enacted them, dragging her away to a secluded tunnel. Flint shivered. If she was anything like the Iberian wolf he’d witnessed, she’d be sporting a swollen belly in months. Poor girl.
That alone seemed to spur the most reluctant of rouges into action. Endymion and Yvaine feasted rather festively, clearly familiar with the obscure pleasures of another wolf’s flesh. Others, such as Abaddon and the she-wolf Iliana, acted with anxious hesitance. Clearly, they’d cleverly envisioned whatever would make a pack like Mortiul worth it. In a moment, he marveled as both received their reward — Iliana, the loving, tender praises of her beloved prophets, Abaddon, a reunion with a former packmate. The siblings, Bishop, Crimson, and Eulalia, had mixed reactions to it, but at the end, each and every one had at least a sliver of meat. Flint shuffled forwards, regarded the corpse candidly — as candidly as one could, especially considering it was a skinless wolf — and sampled a section of its right ear. Ferus had trained him to be a warrior. Did warriors not, on chance occasions, swallow the eye or ear of an enemy? For now, he could happily consider it no different than if he’d injured his foe in combat, no more than an accident. He roughly hewed it to the back of his throat, attempting to avoid thinking of the crunch of cartilage or the faint, lingering feeling of fur scraping his tongue, and swallowed. A simple accident.
A shining, thrashing sliver of white entered his peripheral vision. Lluise had been captured by Mortiul’s beta — apparently, for all her talk of bloodlust and brutality, she wasn’t truly a savage when it came down to it. Aloofly, Flint watched as he dragged her to Alphess Vivaldi and spoke of every horrible act he intended to inflict upon her. Lluise watched languidly, dead-eyes, limply falling back into the beta’s grating, frothing grasp. Flint stared openly, nudging Ebony with a tap of his onyx tail. In three months’ time, she would find a fate no different than Feyre’s, and there was nothing he nor his traveling companion could do except wait. Whatever lay in store for their futures, but what he did know was that mistakes in these lands were unforgivable, and one accident, one tiny-teeny misstep, and his life would be changed forever. He wouldn’t let that happen. For now, he would remain quiet, unassuming, never the best or the worst and forever slipping through shadow until the time came to act out. Lluise be damned; Ebony be damned. No matter what happened to either, he was making it back home, with or without them. Ferus, the four packs as a whole, depended on it.
Exit: Mortiul Commons
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Post by Deleted on Jun 6, 2019 17:36:42 GMT -8
His children accepted their praise with pleasure, well pleased with their own performance, as they should have been. There was pride in performing well, in duties well done, and he’d ensured they always held this value close to them. It would incite them; inflame them into ensuring they always would attain their father’s approval. For now, however, there were more important matters afoot than providing their children the encouragement they didn’t need. Marusya had returned with five of his seven pups, ordering Cayden to promptly toss Stanley into the nearby caverns. It didn’t take a genius to piece together what had likely happened, but he’d wait for his mate’s official recollection. And litter of five was better than litter of none, in his humble opinion. At least the dreadful affair had been stopped. Sweetly, Marusya set the night’s rules before them, ensuring they’d exactly zero room for a fickle misinterpretation. Three rules simple enough for any pup to follow: stay with an adult, eat what you’re given, and don’t cause trouble. Already, there were the faint, teasing flickers of doubt in their faces as they sniffed this suspicious, new meat — when he came to think of it, their first taste of meat ever, actually. What a wonderful way to begin!
“Sir,” A sweet voice piped up, partnered alongside the loveliest, gentlest light blue gaze he’d ever happened upon. “Are you the prophet? You must be, it just feels right.” Her voice haltered, quaking as she attempted to speak up. Crimson eyes coursed over her being, searching for some fleeting sign of familiarity before — the burns. A blessing, a flaming anointment that riddled the right side of her fur. Sanguine eyes softened instantly as he twitched his tail, leaning back on broad oaken limbs to listen to her speech. ”I was caught in a forest fire in the pines,” She began. “So many months ago, and the smoke, it- I passed out, along with my...companions. When I woke, I had lived, but the other two- burnt to ashes, nothingness. They were so close to me,” She explained, wholly enraptured. “And for so long I wondered why the fire hadn’t killed me too. When I heard of - of Ignasia, of your fire god, I knew. I knew. He spared me! I’m meant to serve Him.” The patchy female paused, dipping her head sensibly. “Please, sir-,” She pleaded. “Please let me.” He stepped towards her, tenderly resting his oaken head atop hers, much in the way he would have Maleah, or Xalie.
“To refuse a soul as passionate as your own would be nothing short of blasphemy.” Koga insisted, his gaze fond. “We will touch your ways so you may serve the lord you love so dearly. He has excellent things in store for you; most certainly. Those intended to carry out his purpose are inevitably anointed, as he has done with you. Beautiful,” he purred, stepping back. “Marusya will adore you; I know it. I think you’ll get along with our others splendidly. We’ve been in need a shaman these winter months, somebody willing to study Adjetni’s law and perform his rituals. What better wolf to anoint than one anointed? Your training will commence promptly.” He immediately decided Welcome home, my child.” An enchanted yip ebbed through the air as Marusya caught wind of what lay in store, with the Alphess tumbling head over heels to greet their anointed new arrival. She fawned over her tenderly, learning the lovely name she bore — Iliana. She appointed herself as the girl’s head teacher. All the better for her! Was there no wolf better equipped to teach the way of Adjetni than Marusya? In due time, Iliana would blossom, and make Ignasia all the more strong for her efforts.
Marusya pulled him aside to discuss the antics that had ensured with Miyako and Stanley at the Mountain Streams. How unfortunate. They would have to take care that, in future events, a pack superior always supervised their slaves. Such irrational, flighty infidels would never have any idea what good Adjetni’s governing did their decadent souls. Miyako had escaped, along with her oldest and youngest pups, but Cayden had captured his traitorous slave easily. Now, there was simply the matter of how to handle this complex predicament. Miyako would be sent after shortly, but Stanley could not be allowed to continue living here. “Adramalach,” He barked, rising to meet his closest ally. “Unfortunately, it seems I’ve selected a particularly finicky slave. Any recommendations to address this behavior?” Adramalach’s pitch came promptly, a trial by combat, wolf on wolf with Beelzebub’s slave. Marusya approved this, looking towards him with a soft, remorseful smile. "I brought him in, and I had him train with Vivaldi,” She began. “I thought he would be good for Maleah.” He rasped his tongue over her forehead fondly. “And he was darling — for a time. He was but a temporary addition in the grand scheme of things. Never quite committed to our rules, religion, ways. Meant to die.”
The battle ensued the instant Adramalach’s sons had finished picking their respective partners: Hound and Mutt. “Your sons alongside mine,” He whispered to his ally. “May their battles together be forever victorious.” Together, the four would find remarkable companionship and critical assistance, especially within the rush and chaos of war. The four may not have been aware, but a critical alliance had been forged. Stanley’s battle was brutal, gruesome, nothing less than what a traitor deserved — but in the distance, he saw his tender-hearted nanny waver ever slightly. Understandable, for as Marusya said, he had been good for her once. Now, he would remind her of what lay ahead. “Maleah,” He began softly. “My children are already well past the age of your good services, but these ones are not. They’ve no mother here more suitable to care for them than you. Would you and Cayden be willing to parent them? It’d do them well, and besides, you could quite well consider it good practice for the future. I would like for you,” He began wistfully. “To consider the idea of starting a family of your own. Adjetni has already granted his blessing. You’ve my full permission to start your family.” He finished, rising to leave with a whimsy smile.
Exit to: Ignasia Common Grounds
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Post by Deleted on Jun 15, 2019 1:47:40 GMT -8
He knew why he was the one forced into the battle. Adra, Beel, Cayden, any of them could have taken care of Stanley with absolutely no problem. They were all sadistic warriors, while Stanley had been in the same position Ronin himself is in currently: being a slave. But they didn't want quick, no, they wanted a show. So who else to throw in than Mortiul's toy? One indentured servant against another, another form of pack against pack. He hadn't wanted this, didn't want any part of the bloodshed for no reason other than to keep it off of him and keep his body from gathering even more scars. But alas, when he was called, he lumbered into the ring, staring blankly at his opponent. He remained indifferent, even as he was being attacked he didn't fight back, thinking that maybe he could let himself die and Stanley would get to go his own way. That was, until he realized while the orange wolf was injuring him, he was just shoving him and not doing any permanent damage. Not going for the kill. That was when he snapped. Before he even knew what he was doing, his claws and fangs were being lashed out and sinking into Stanley as he tried to flee. He was inexperienced and it showed in how sloppily he threw his claws at the other's body, in the places he chose to bite, but eventually he got a grip of the other male's neck and ripped out a chunk. Blood spilled everywhere, and the meat slid down his throat, fur and all. It was good. If his eyes were closed, he couldn't even tell it was a wolf. He was so hungry, starved for so long of everything. His personality, his appetite, his wants and wishes; it was almost like he was attacking Stanley with all the anger and grief he had hidden away since being indoctrinated by Beelzebub. He kept biting and tearing the flesh off his body, even when he stopped moving, eating his fill and more. Luckily he stopped himself just before he threw it all back up from overeating and backed away, blood and bits of flesh dripping from his maw. He first looked over to his master for approval, but he was preoccupied with another female. So instead he simply wandered back to his original spot to wait for either Beel's or Adra's command, which came relatively soon. The pack took their leave to go back to Mortiul, and as they did Ronin felt like he was leaving his soul behind. In that cave, where he finally met his boiling point, his soul had left him and descended into hell. He was a dead body walking-- it just didn't know it yet. EXIT TO: Mortiul Commons @beelzebub Alpha Adramalech
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Post by Deleted on Jun 27, 2019 12:13:07 GMT -8
The sweetest, loveliest voice in the world gently wafted outwards.
Momma! She instinctively soared to her paws, scanning for her favorite she-wolf in the way she had in childhood. Oh, it’d been long, far, far too long since she’d met that marvelously green gaze and pressed herself into her pelt, since everything sad and cruel and downright awful about the world melted away in the presence of her guardian. Mother told her she was all grown-up, bold, brave and capable of holding her own, but she knew she needed Mama. It had been mean, borderline cruel of them to keep her away so long, but now, she lingered just a step or two away! “Tiny!” She immediately swept forwards, savoring the softness of the ochre pelt she’d dreamt of in Mortiul’s dens. "I missed you so much. You've grown so big that I almost didn't recognize you!" Oh yes! She’d almost forgotten — did Ignasia not reward strength, size, and cunning? How proud Mama would be that she’d bloomed in all three! Spiritedly, she spun on her ochre heels, showcasing her full size. “I missed you too Mama! Are you proud of me? Vivaldi made sure I got at least a little bit stronger!” She gave her a soft hip bump. “I think it might’ve worked!”
Adramalach and Father gave a short exchange of the tournament ahead. Puce ears perked as she leaned forwards, curious as to what sort of sparring would commence between the Beta’s children and her siblings. Anubis was first, paired against Perci. Tiny wriggled, shifting a sliver forwards in hopes of getting a good glimpse at the action ahead. Annie had never been particularly nice to her, but Persephone had taken active pleasure in making life miserable — perhaps now, a bit of karmic payback could finally commence. She was savage, according to the tales she’d heard, but a bit of brutality could be humbling. Vivaldi had taught her that. Together, the two met their starting marks, preparing to plunge themselves into the heat of battle. The Alphas nodded, a final affirmation, and —
Perci’s limb snapped like a twig, almost instantly ensnared in Annie’s jutting, frothing jaws. Tiny flinched terribly, staring transfixed at the absolute bloodbath that ensure. “What is she doing?” She whispered to Mama, trembling. “This is a spar, right?” Mama remained motionless, fixated on the sadistic, painstakingly slow scene before them. Anubis was tearing Perci apart strip by strip, sliver by sliver, flinging spare flesh and fur onto the ravenous crowd. Long oaken limbs fumbled against thin ashen soul as she attempted to dodge a soaring ear. Anubis was killing her. Hesitantly, she hewed her gaze from the flaxen ear, golden against garnet, and managed to meet Persephone’s face, if it could even be labeled that anymore. Her pulse hastened, thundering harshly through her being as she watched. This wasn’t karma, anything but, and every one standing witness regarded it with something resembling satisfaction. Beelzebub lowered his head, lapping at the puddles pooling at his ashen paws, sating his thirst with his pup’s blood. No. She took a terse step back. This was too much, ever for her relatively harsh upbringing. Ignasia would never — her father would never sip the blood from one of his children’s neck as if it were a delicacy — would he?
This was the blood of infidels, after all. Anubis stepped back after boring a thin hole into Perci’s jugular, severing it. Imset came next. Tiny stared; transfixed as she contemplated whether or not Adjetni excused such open debauchery. Father and Mother looked quite pleased. If any were to know Adjetni’s will, would it not be them? Tiny swallowed, taking another look at the sparring grounds as Imset attempted to hew Sauron’s pelt off of his shoulders. Awful, bloodcurdling anguish, but her siblings and parents regarded it all as little more than a particularly amusing game. Was that all a life without Adjetni was? She looked towards Mama for guidance. She didn’t take pleasure in it; rather a reluctant acceptance, as though such displays were simply a necessary aspect of maintaining their faith. Tepidly, she took a step forwards, resuming her rightful position. If Mama could live with displays such as these, then she could too.
She wasn’t a child anymore.
Still, when Mother came to summon Maleah from her side, she found it significantly harder to cope with watching. Sauron’s demise was despicably cruel in the eyes of any other, but to them, it was an ordinary aspect of their lives. Imset trotted away victorious, toting the torn, blood-stained length of what was once a particularly handsome pelt, and was greeted with all the adorations of her waiting siblings. Although she would have never wanted to partake, the tiniest, sharpest twinge of jealousy twisted within her innards. Since childhood, she’d wanted so badly to belong, to be counted amongst them, but had always been isolated to a degree. Could she even be considered theirs still? Every time her father referred to his children, he referred to them in threes, never once considering her in the batch. Though she would have hated to go to such drastic lengths as they all had, deeper than her desire to please Mama, deeper than her desire to serve Adjetni was a borderline desperate urge to belong to anything. If it required strength, skill, brutality, then — maybe she could succeed.
Varuna won in his match after doing nothing short of ripping Tern’s head right off his shoulders. Three successes, each more brutal than the last, but she’d never seen her father look so very proud. In that moment, Anubis, Imset, and Varuna were more than his children, but his legacy, what he’d lovingly cultivated to fulfill his life’s mission. And there, in the distance, she stood; a stranger to all except a wolf that would be assigned her replacement family. In that moment, she’d be truly, undeniably alone, and would never have anything to disprove that.
In that moment, she realized she could do it, if need be.
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Mortiul
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Mercenary
Female
4 Years
3 Likes
18 Posts
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Post by Mercenary Yvaine on Aug 1, 2019 16:11:35 GMT -8
The trek to the caves didn’t consist of much talking besides the occasional flirtation from Yvaine. She was sure that Crimson had grown used to her flirting by now, especially since Endymion had taken off to be a Paladin. She still kept her flirtatious nature when it came to the male to combat his own, but she had taken an interest in two different males, and she would be damned if she didn’t focus it more towards them. She hadn’t seen Quentin in quite some time, the male being in Ignasian lands for the most part. Although she had almost free reign of the territory to go as she pleased, training had been rigorous, and Adramalech was not kind when it came to his demands. The black male was doing well in his training, having more and more assassin traits as they went further and further into the darker realm of killing and infiltrating. But the male didn’t know everything, and that was why they were headed to the caves, the perfect setting for an assassin to hone his skills. As they came to the mouth, the scent of death no longer lingered, but the memories were all too fresh in her mind. Seeing how the Ignasia children slaughtered Beelzebub’s spawn sent shivers down her spine, delightful ones of course. She would never be one to outright kill another, she preferred to keep her kills silent. Even if the screams of the slaughtered were delightful. It was much cleaner and better to keep them from announcing their death to the others around. “Alright Crimmy, we’re here,” She said, a flick of her tail as she beckoned the male to follow her inside. They delved deeper into the caves, where even her bright red fur could hardly be seen. Aquamarine eyes glimmered as she looked over towards the male, his pitch black fur melting into the shadows, as she would only assume he would follow. “Now, you know what assassins do, that much is clear,” She said. “But can you pin me to the ground without me noticing your presence?” She asked, giving him a small challenge to accept. With that, his presence faded. Her ears twitched as she listened. She could hear him faintly walking in the caves, the smallest of echoes hitting the large ears that sat upon her head. She swiveled, facing where he was. “I know you can do better than that,” She said with a slight purr to her voice. “Your footsteps need to be silent, no matter where you are,” She spoke, and with that, they were gone. She listened intently for breathing. It was rather close. Before she could react, he had her pinned to the ground, jaws at her throat. She gave a small laugh, eyes glimmering. “Excellent!” She spoke. He didn’t make a move to get off of her and she gave a small nip to his ear. “As much as I love being underneath you, maybe we should keep training,” She whispered into his ear, eyes glimmering with mischief. Assassin Crimson
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Mortiul
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Assassin
Male
4 Years
1 Like
18 Posts
Never play 'hide and go seek' with Bishop.
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Post by Assassin Crimson on Aug 6, 2019 12:17:55 GMT -8
Following behind daintily placed black paws that connected to impossibly slender and agile legs, Crimson couldn't help but admire the pelt and form of his current companion. Never before had he lain such critical eyes as his upon someone so impossibly different. His train of thought would randomly get interrupted by her subtle flirting which he would answer with a soft chuckle, or a semi-confident smile. With Yvaine he wondered how much trouble the two could get up to, but he still regarded her with caution, she was very flirtatious and he couldn't help but feel like behind those aquamarine eyes lay a male eater, he would show no surprise if she chewed him up and spat him back out once she grew tired of his company. He hoped for once, he was wrong in his assumptions however once they neared the caves, the very same where he and Yvaine along with his siblings and numerous other new recruits for both Mortiul and Ignasia had met and seen both packs violent nature first hand. The stench of blood and the sounds of screaming no longer saturated the rocky walls of the cave or the dampness of the air it offered. He could very clearly remember what noise flesh and fur made as it was ripped forcefully and without remorse nor hesitation from those pups who were sacrificed here, as well as how his blood would curdle at every shriek. Crimson only offered a blink in remembrance as he was no longer as soft has he was when he had first joined this pack, becoming accustomed to the type of life he and his Mortiul pack mates lived had this affect on the mind, a certain numbness that helped him to get the job done, one Yvaine always preached the importance of, spilling blood in the name of Mortiul. Some would call it brainwashing, while others would call it enlightenment, afterall; didn't everyone just want to belong? "Alright Crimmy, we're here." her voice rang in his black ears and his red gaze landed on her once again, having been looking at the numerous features of the cave, remembering all to well who stood where as the carnage unfolded in the middle. As they delved deeper it became harder to see yet easier for him to blend into the shadows, her blue eyes seeming piercing even in this light. The black male could not help the Cheshire grin that spread on his maw as his teacher issued him a challenge to pin her to the ground without noticing his presence. Confidence radiated from him as his presence faded into the shadows of the cave, his black pelt made this notoriously easier, almost like he was born for this. As he crept around in the darkness he would give a glance to watch as her large ears would swivel and twitch, paying close attention to him. She had caught him the first time, a soft huff rising from his chest as he put forth more effort this time around, spreading out his paws in an effort to muffle the sound, quieting his breathing before pinning his ears back and giving a pounce, her lighter weight and smaller frame crumpled below his, pinning her against the stone where many lives had been taken in the months before. Gleaming teeth brushed against her throat as he gave a deep yet soft growl, pulling his head away as she complimented his work, red eyes peering down at her before she spoke again. "As much as I love being underneath you, maybe we should keep training." This comment brought a devious smirk to his expression, her way of words always seemed to have this effect on him but he loved that about her. "I can think of a dozen other things I'd rather do with you than train." His voice like velvet as he whispered back to her, dropping his head slightly to give her cheek a soft lick, wondering if this sign of affection would earn him jaws around his throat, though he wouldn't be too opposed to that or the latter.
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Mortiul
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Mercenary
Female
4 Years
3 Likes
18 Posts
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Post by Mercenary Yvaine on Aug 6, 2019 12:42:22 GMT -8
Yvaine was admiring the dark features of her companion, the feeling of his fangs softly grazing her fur eliciting a deep purr to come from her throat, her vocal chords doing nothing to hide the pleasure she found in the male’s dominance. Oh, how she loved a male who was strong, that could battle her in combat. That could pin her like this, and know that he was doing something right. The purr that came from her only stopped when he spoke. What a devious sentence. Something that made her smirk as his tongue brushed against the fur of her cheek. He was getting confident! Yvaine was not one to put out the fire already ignited, and so with a small movement, she used her leg to push his out from under him, using her back legs to quickly guide him down beside her as she quickly pivoted to stand above him, her large ears swiveling as she looked down at the male now underneath her. The air was thick, something that she loved. Something that she craved, and only had felt this much tension since she first met Endymion. But alas, Crimson had brought out a side to her that he might regret doing. She may be flirtatious, but when it came to actually courting a male, Yvaine was quite the pursuer. She would stop at nothing until she had what she wanted, and Crimson was no exception. With him underneath her, a slender leg conjoined to a delicate paw placed itself on the base of his chest, back legs on either side of his body as she moved her own chest to press lightly against his as her head came to rest just short of his ear. “I would love for you to show me,” She whispered, aquamarine eyes glimmering as she kept speaking. “But I think we should save that for a different time lovelie,” She then pressed her tongue delicately against his cheek. “After all,” She grins. “You have no idea what you’re getting into,” Her words held a dangerous tone to them, and she quickly pushed herself off of him. Looking towards the cave tunnels as she had already thought of her next plan. “Now, I’m not going to sit still for you, you’ve got to learn how to catch a moving target,” She smirks. “Catch me if you can, sweetheart,” Those were her last words before long legs sent her flying down the tunnels, a howl of excitement the only thing to indicate Crimson on where she had gone as she plunged deeper into the caves. Assassin Crimson
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Mortiul
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Assassin
Male
4 Years
1 Like
18 Posts
Never play 'hide and go seek' with Bishop.
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Post by Assassin Crimson on Aug 9, 2019 17:17:41 GMT -8
As his canines gently ghosted over the soft fur of her throat Crimson's black ears flicked as he heard the deep purr that arose from his companions throat, it was all the confirmation he needed to know what he was doing was quite alright with her. Too caught up in the entirety of her, Crimson did not expect Yvaine to use her leg to push out one of his own from beneath him, before he could register what had happened his back met the ground and he gave a hard huff as the breath was knocked from him, though not with absolute force, when she landed atop him he watched as her large ears swiveled and met eyes with her, bright red meeting aquamarine. polar opposites that belonged to two wolves that were as different as they were the same. He tried to scan her expression for anything that would tell her intentions, but like the true assassin she was, he had trouble reading her. He gave a soft sigh as her paw pressed against his chest he listened to her smooth and warm tone, one she often spoke to him in. He laid the back of his head against the ground, licking his nose and top lip as she said they would save their fun for another time. He gave a huff, patience had never been a virtue of his and he had been courting her for quite some time now. He chuckled when he heard her comment that he had no idea what he was getting into, it was true but he couldn't help but be intrigued by the maned wolf, he was more than willing to throw caution to the wind for her. When she pushed herself off of him he quickly got up and stood on his paws, but not before she challenged him to catch her if he could. Without much thought Crimson tore off after her and did his best to catch up to her, keeping his nose trained on her scent as they went down the dark tunnels, he was careful in his footing, not as agile or quick footed as Yvaine was, but he did his damnedest.
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Mortiul
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Mercenary
Female
4 Years
3 Likes
18 Posts
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Post by Mercenary Yvaine on Aug 18, 2019 12:05:09 GMT -8
The mercenary didn’t try to hide her location at all as she moved through the caves. The soft thud of her paws echoing off the cave walls, while yips and howls of excitement reverberated off the walls as well. She was enjoying the chase, aquamarine eyes alight with happiness not so commonly displayed within Mortiul wolves. The adrenaline coursing through her veins pushed her forward, until finally, there was light. The hard cave floor turned to grass once more, and as she whipped around to face Crimson, he would more than likely run into her if she didn’t simply move out of the way. Sidestepping so that the male wouldn’t barrel into her, she watched him with glittering eyes. “We definitely need to work on that speed of yours Crimmy,” She chuckled. “You’re so big though, I’m not sure if that can be enhanced,” She chuckled, and then looked around. “If only we had targets to actually practice with,” She mumbled to herself, and the idea sparked. They needed to leave Mortiul territory to really be able to train properly. Moving towards Crimson after he had approached her once more, she rubbed up underneath his chin and up against his chest, giving a daring glance towards the male as she nipped at the underside of his jaw, giving a small playful growl as she did so. “I think it's time we go out on a mission,” She stated, looking outwards. The desert that she had found Endymion in was barren, and would not host many wolves unless they were passing through. Even during the winter when the desert wasn’t so hot, no wolf would dare enter the icy terrain. Now that the snow had melted, the sand would be as hot as ever, and no wolf wanted scorched paw pads. “Come on, I have an idea on where we can go,” She whispers, bringing herself to rub up against him once more as she walked past, tail flicking up and across his nose as she took off for where she knew they could find wolves. She was sure that Adramalech would be perfectly fine with them taking off from Mortiul lands. Her position in the pack depended on leaving constantly, and he had told them to train wherever. That wherever could be in the territory our outside of the territory. And she was sure that if she brought him back a small gift, he would be more than happy to let her leaving slide. -Exit to get Mutt- Assassin Crimson
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Mortiul
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Assassin
Male
4 Years
1 Like
18 Posts
Never play 'hide and go seek' with Bishop.
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Post by Assassin Crimson on Aug 21, 2019 11:46:31 GMT -8
The whispers of wind as it rushed by caught his ears as he chased after the mercenary, through the caves as her paws made harsh sounds against the rocks, she was no longer trying to be stealthy, she was trying to move as quickly and efficiently as possible. A wide smile spread on his features as he heard her yip and howl excitedly, provoking his own noises of excitement in response, he hadn't had this kind of fun since he was a mere pup, playing with his brother Bishop before he was afraid he would squish him with one missed step. Once outside of the cave he nearly missed her stepping aside so he did not crash into her, nails digging into the ground below his paws as he came to a stop, straightening his stance as he looked at her, red eyes on her face as she spoke about needing to work on his speed, then mentioning his size, he took it as a compliment, hearing her chuckle in response to her own words, returning a smile as she looked around. Moments after she seemed to ponder, fiery fur met midnight black as she rubbed up underneath his chin and against his broad chest. When she nipped the underside of his jaw he gave a playful growl in response just as she did, reaching out, his ivory canines grabbed at the scruff behind her neck, pinching the skin between his teeth as males often did to females they intended to mate with, though he planned on doing nothing of the sort, it was simply the closest part to him that he could grab. He released her moments after, watching as thought was clear behind her pretty eyes, wondering what was going on inside that devious head of hers. 'I think its time we go out on a mission....come on I have an idea on where we can go.' He needed no more suggestions to follow Yvaine wherever she lead him, he trusted in her and her training."I'm right behind you."he answered without question. Excitement lingered in his blood as he wondered what they wpuld get up to, wondering if he was finally ready to make his first real kill out in the lands beyond pack territory.
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