Wolf RPG

Full Version: The devil has my ear today
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A heavy blanket of snow covered the plains today as Midar made his way across the steppe. Leaving @Damien and the rest of his clan in to search out new members didn't particularly sit well with the mercenary, but the sooner he found more wolves to join them, the faster they could lay claim to their own territory, and then he wouldn't have to pretend be diplomatic with wolves he didn't trust. He released a frustrated sigh, irritated to be without a real home again. He paused briefly to watch a rabbit dart from behind a rock and take off into the distance, paying it no real attention other than to note the movement before resuming his pace once more. 

The whole thing soured his mood, and with Alarian nowhere near, there was no calming the beast. So, he settled for exploring, hoping to run into wolves with the right personality to fit in with the him and his family.

 
There was nowhere left to go, nowhere left to run. Panic crept up my throat as I ran into yet another dead end, and realized he had led me here. Turning around, I found him...



Through the through the Flatlands, Moath wandered. Behind him, his mind trailed a strand of thoughts that made either enough sense to dwell on, or too much sense to where he didn’t want to touch them. Thinking too much made his head hurt. Much more a beast of burden, the massive monster shuffled through the snow, the white comforter silencing his trudge. His daughter had been there, wondering what had happened to him, wondering where he had been all this time. But he was in no mind to give her answers. He kept silent, as Moath always had. 

Crystals fell all from the skies, and the behemoth paid no mind to them. Tiny white flecks fell upon a hide who blended them into a glistening black wash of darkness, the heat radiating from him enough to melt and absorb the frosty flakes. Soon enough, it snowed a bit more and a bit faster than his dark mass could antifreeze, and soon it stuck to him in a blanketed wave of greeting white. But again, he paid it no mind. 

He had left left his daughter behind for a third time now. 

So what was this feeling that something or someone familiar had neared him? Stopping, this muscled mountain stood stock still in the middle of this field, and with his ears, he slowly turned his head to all sides as he searched for this unknown feeling’s source. Near midnight amethyst eyes covered quite a bit of land in a short sense of time; his peripherals were amazing. But what he wanted was seemingly hard to find.





 
And in silence, he waited.

Soon, his steaming was interrupted by the scent of a stranger. The beast followed it out of the simple need for a distraction, and a distraction he found. The man looked like he could be from his own family, his blue-black coat standing out against the snow that covered the ground they stood on. Midar slowly made his way a little closer, stopping a comfortable distance away and releasing a harsh breath through his nose to announce is presence. His own, lighter violet gaze studying the stranger impassively. He spoke no words yet, deciding to wait and see how this wolf reacted to his intrusion on his solitude. He kept his body language neutral as he waited, not wanting to come off more threatening than he already naturally did, at least not yet anyway.

 
There was nowhere left to go, nowhere left to run. Panic crept up my throat as I ran into yet another dead end, and realized he had led me here. Turning around, I found him...




Moath soon found the sound as the feeling huffed to direct him. Slowly, his void stare was brought to the maker of the exhale, a large wolf who seemed to mirror him. It was near an exact replica, though this one’s fur seemed well managed and groomed, while Moath’s was jagged and strewn, blood flecked and reeking of murder.

Should he know what his own eye color looked like, he would make note how the company’s had much more light, much more life to them than his own did. In passing bowels of water, he never could see his eyes - they blended in with his color-swallowing fur.

The giant didn’t know whether or not it was best to ignore this situation, or Whether to examine this much more thoroughly than what he was used to. He had the tendency to not study things very well before he slaughtered them, and in most cases, he was left with a scar or a tear from it. But nothing had stopped him yet. Nothing living could drag the Void down and keep him there. But he felt no pride, no joy at his seemingly immortal existence. He didn’t feel anything passionately. He only did what he had the urge to do. And for the most part, that was killing things. 

Just as slow as his attention to Midar, he made up his mind as the staredown ended.
And ever so slowly, the man began a slow and deliberate trudge directly towards his mirrored image. 




 
And in silence, he waited.

The stared at each other for a few silent moments--killer to killer. It was evident to any onlookers that they both shared the same inclination for violence, but Midar had no intentions of harming this stranger, at least not currently. Strangers were always met with a moderate level of hostility, but those who could be family earned indifference from the beast initially. So as the other wolf neared, Midar merely watched, violet gaze holding the other man's dead eyes. When the stranger was close enough, Midar finally spoke. You look like a Melonii. What is your name? Not that he would remember him even if he did know him from somewhere else, but he could at least find out if they were family. It was hard to believe he wasn't one of them--everyone else he had run into here that looked as this man and Midar did was Melonii, so he waited for the answer he sought, hoping to send one more family member to Damien and Nyx.

 
There was nowhere left to go, nowhere left to run. Panic crept up my throat as I ran into yet another dead end, and realized he had led me here. Turning around, I found him...



Moath cleared his tongue of the last meal, miniature flecks of digested corpse sliding down his esophagus. The plate for the newest food was ready, and he ran the rough muscle over the insides of his teeth as he neared, freeing up the stained knives for their next murder. His mind reaches high and far for the best ways to dismember, to ruin, to reap from this male.

But a voice- his voice- stopped Moath from licking his chops, unhinging his  locked jaws and christening the mirror image into damnation. With the voice, his shuffle ceased, and massive dome slowly crescented a tilt to his curiosity. How had this male stopped his carnage? The words were a breeze...but memories scalpeled through the psychopath’s mind and wrenched free a memory.

A whelping den, cries and scents of milk and blood and pain and glee hidden amongst the brambles thickets. Moath, 2 years old, stood silently at the den’s entrance, unable to embark on his usual murder of the mother and eventual leave of the pups - as this was his own blood he would be ceasing. 
The reality held his windpipe, and the plume of exhale ceased from his nares piped barrel.

This male was Family. His own Blood. And that was something he could not harm. 

Eclipse blue amethysts scaled over the man’s face, feeling recognition from memory. And inclined to respond finally as his mind made sense and peace with it, his carnal lust dispersed momentarily. 

Moath.” the graveled rumble of death, decay and dismay rolled a cloud of speech cologned with torment to the younger brute. Moath clearly didn’t enjoy talking, nor was very good at it, so accurate conversation would certainly be out of the question. But returning his crown to its regular straight degree, he had no plans to ask the man back his own name. It hadn’t mattered much to Moath, but it was what it was.





 
And in silence, he waited.

The man neared and at first, Midar wondered if he might attack. The beast tensed, waiting to spring into action at the right moment, but the stranger stopped and stared at him for a few moments before finally offering what he could only assume was the other man's name. Moath

Midar gave a stiff nod in response. I am Midar Melonii, he replied next. He of course had no idea who was actually standing in front of him; his memories had only just started to return, and he hadn't been given very much--he definitely still had no recollection of who his family was or where they were. Only recently had he found out that he had a brother, and that had only been told to him by the woman who claimed to be his grandmother. 

There are more of us, he offered, unwilling to believe that he was wrong in his assumption that this man was Melonii. Near the forest by the coast, he added. We welcome all Meloniis.

 
There was nowhere left to go, nowhere left to run. Panic crept up my throat as I ran into yet another dead end, and realized he had led me here. Turning around, I found him...



Just after the younger male mentioned the coast, Moath scrounged up another try at words from the thick tunnels of his cursed throat. It heaved out, and slapped across the ear of the killer’s Spawn with almost wet clarity. “Baby Son”. Moath watched the face of the younger male to see what he would do with the information. 

Regardless of it, he would go to where this coast was should he find it...he really had no sense of direction though. The man would wander endlessly until he was either killed, or eventually found by another of their Family.



 
And in silence, he waited.

The beast stared at the other man for a few seconds, unblinking and unsure if he had really heard him correctly. Did he just call him...baby son? What? he asked, confusion and irritation flashing through his eyes. What did you just call me? He could feel the darkness--its dark tendrils snaking their way from the dark recesses of his mind where he tried to keep it smothered. But anytime he was faced with what he couldn't remember, he could feel his control slipping, letting the evil leak out to sit on his shoulder and tell him all the wrong ways to deal with the devastating need to remember who he was and why he was like this. He drew in a few deep breaths, fighting the urge to snarl at the stranger claiming to be something Midar couldn't even bring himself to think right now.

 
There was nowhere left to go, nowhere left to run. Panic crept up my throat as I ran into yet another dead end, and realized he had led me here. Turning around, I found him...



Moath couldn’t explain much more than “Malene is Baby Son’s Mother.” A nod to the younger male from the older brute. “I am Baby Son’s Father.” Moath would have taken any insult thrown at him, any attack, any vengeance for him being absent for so long. He had been in too fights to care about pain. 

He hadn’t said his sister’s name in so long, it almost felt foreign on his tongue. Actually, all words were foreign. He was terrible at speech. But he tried hard enough for his Son to understand how he was related. And that he’d do nothing to kill him, regardless of how he felt.



 
And in silence, he waited.

Really sorry for the wait


Midar stared at the stranger, not understanding what he was saying--or refusing to understand it. It just didn't seem possible that this could be happening. He took a step back, shaking his head. I don't know who Malene is, he growled, his tone filled with frustration. I don't remember any of my family or childhood. Better to get that out of the way before the strange man tried to drop more names he should know. He could feel his rage rising and soon, he wouldn't be able to keep it contained, especially not if the other wolf continued to insist that Midar was his...son. He did not want to lose his shit out here in front of a stranger, but that was where this was all heading. The last time he was faced with memories of his past, it had not gone very well.
it’s fine hun you’re a busy gal!!

 
There was nowhere left to go, nowhere left to run. Panic crept up my throat as I ran into yet another dead end, and realized he had led me here. Turning around, I found him...



The younger male didn’t understand him. Moath didn’t know whether it was a sign it was not meant to be known or whether it wasn’t meant to be- but the giant wasn’t a philosopher, and he wasn’t persistent. 

So the giant only shook his head slowly and dropped it. There was no more ability left for him to speak as of this moment. He had done enough. But he did in fact look for where Midar motioned for  where the Family would reside. 
Home.

Perhaps someone else could speak of the history to Midar...it was hard for him. Would his Mother be there? Turning back to Midar, the heave of muscle and murder thought he might be offended to drop the topic; but what else could he add? If Malene was here, she’d better explain it than he. 

She had to be.



 
And in silence, he waited.

Despite their strange and infuriating interaction, Midar still wanted to make sure the man knew where to find the rest of them. He might not be ready to investigate how exactly they were related, but he was a Melonii, and that meant that he deserved a spot with their family. His somewhat confused gaze found the strange man. I can show you where our family is, he said flatly. Follow me. he turned then and started walking, leaving the other wolf to decide if he wanted to follow. They weren't too far anyway, and he had a feeling he wouldn't be forced to do much talking with this particular company, so he didn't think it would be too painful. Plus, he knew he would search out Alarian once he dropped off the other man, which served to ease his frustration some.


Wrap up? <3