In Whispers, the Darkness Calls (joining)

@Meldresi . Anyone is welcome to answer. I'm trying out a different style than I'm used to :x I hope this turns out okay!

Red bleeds through a thick forest. Shadows, long and daunting, stretch their hands over snowy grounds. A large wolf sniffs the edge of a pack territory, golden eyes piercing the darkness. His fur is lit by the sinking sun from behind, setting aflame the brown and red hues of his coat. His strong head then lifts, high and proud, to stare intently into the trees. What wolves did lie behind this maze of trunks? What secrets were held in such a place? Legs braced in the cold layers of untouched snow, he lifts his snout to let drip a deep and haunting howl.

Sharp teeth clamp down, the howl is left to echo over this tempting place. The dark forest calls to him, ringing deep in his bones. What stranger will answer his summons? Who will choose to meet with this large and ominous wolf? A spark flickers in his gaze, ambition grips him with the claws of compulsion. A longing for power whispers promises in his delicate ears. Command them, they say. Take their trust, they advise. Teeth glint, pulled free from the lips of their prison. He grins with evil intention. Plans. He has plans for them all. Hidden, the voices caution. Suspect, they warn. Blood, demands his soul. Flesh, pleads his fangs. A shiver wracks his body. He commands it to still. He will satisfy the desires that call to him. They must be patient; all will be acquired in due time.

Darkness has tainted him, eating away his sanity. Alone he has always been, alone he will forever remain. Pain he has known not, love he has known not, pack he has sought. Does he seek them for normal reasons? No, he requires fulfillment. A hunger, dangerous and endless, follows him. It had started soon after he was broke from his mother's teat. Demanding his attention, it has grown. Who's to say his uncle's death was not an accident? He had not devised it, it was a spark of genius. That's how he saw it. Scare the herd of moose towards his unsuspecting, beloved uncle. But wait, did he know? There were small signs, almost insignificant. Did Grim spot the fact his uncle saw the darkness inside? Barely, but he knew. The daft wolf feared him, but he was not good enough to hide the fact. Grim found that he enjoyed the knowledge that his uncle was afraid of him. He fed off the hidden fear. But did the old male suspect that? No, Grim was better. He was careful, he was deceitful.

These wolves, they won't know. They won't suspect. He can deceive them, he will give them a wolf they can trust. He will be the oaf, his uncle. Always a lesson he had to teach. Always a helping paw he had to put in. It was disgusting to watch such kindness. But the kindness still lives in you, calls a soft voice. He pushes it aside, the darkness has won. Or has it? The soft voice taunts. He bears down on it. The softness flees before his fury, back to its cage in his heart. There is still weakness within him; he despises it. A few more deaths on his paws and he will be free from kindness. Forever.

She should not be leaving her pups so much, especially at such a young age, but she felt that her pups were safe. The caves were well protected and hidden, and she was certain her children would not be disturbed.

So she walked out of her goddess' web, eyes narrowing in the sunlight that filtered through the dark canopy. Just in time to hear a low howl calling for someone. One of her own. She responded to it, her stride shedding the stiffness of her body instantly. She had someone to win over into her pack.

He sat by her borders, large, firey. Most of the wolves who came to her borders and followed her matched the tall, dark and handsome description. It was an odd conicedence, and it seemed to the priestess that, if not for the handful of females, she would have a harem all to herself. Not that she was that type of woman, anyway. The Night Queen melted from the shadows as she normally did, crossing the white snow and sitting a few feet away from the newcomer, her indigo eyes reading him intently. "Who comes here at my borders, and at such a late hour?" She said in her serene and sultry voice, though it was not a late hour for her wolves. They were known to be quite nocturnal.

A dark form moves in the woods. Ears perked, he follows it. Molding into a wolf, a shadow steps from the trees. They heard his call. Now he will have to act. Relax, the voices say. Pretend, they command. Teeth show in a smile. The wolf sits a few lengths away, indigo eyes bright. She is solid black, mirroring his inner evil. She questions him. "Grimnir," he offers. "Grimnir Sath Bolverk." They must know the full name of the one who has come to murder them. It will be a shame to kill this beauty though. An image invades his mind of his teeth tearing into her throat. Beauty or not, he lusts for her death.

A breeze whispers past. His lip twitches. The scent of pups linger on this wolf. He will kill them too. Never enough blood, the voices tell him. He agrees. There will always be a trail of death behind him. "And you, my Lady?" It doesn't matter if he knows her name. The knowledge won't change anything. He will still kill her. But he has to be kind. Internally he snarls at the show of respect. A bad taste settles on his tongue.

But how will he kill the one before him? Make it an accident like his uncle? No. He can come up with something better. Drown her in a river? Maybe he should leave her to bleed out. Then he could kill her pups in front of her before she dies. It will be even better if he can gain her trust. He gazes at this female with a glint in his eyes. It will be amusing to watch the expression on her face when he betrays her. Such despair on a pretty face will make it even more beautiful. He freezes the gentle smile on his muzzle to keep from grinning at his thoughts. Puffing out his chest, he shakes out his fire touched coat. He knows he is a handsome wolf. He can use that to his advantage here.

Instantly, she noticed that something was off about this male. The way he looked at her was with lust, but not the lust for carnal pleasure. No, it was for something more sadistic and dark, the lust for blood. Meldresi knew from the glint in his eye, the forced and frozen smile. She was dealing with a full-blooded psychopath here. Lovely.

If he was trying to seduce her with his looks, he would fail in that right. The priestess was far beyond giving in to a pretty face. She only mated with someone because she had to, either for a job, or because her goddess told her so, regardless if she even liked or loved the person.

"Meldresi Melonii. I am the alpha of Blackfeather Woods." Her voice with that of one who was attending to important business, yet she let some semblance of friendliness into her tone as well. "Tell me, Grimnir, what do you have to offer my pack?"

Meldresi Melonii. The alpha of Blackfeather Woods. This was who had answered him. Nothing indicates that his looks had affected her. She speaks with buisness in her tone. He will match it. But she will fall to him, eventually. He is glad she is the one who came. Now he knows the alpha. If he kills this one. The pack is already destroyed. Gone, the voices agree. Won, they howl. All he would have to do is murder the others. Then there will be no Blackfeather Woods pack. This charming area will be his to roam.

The sun behind him is almost gone. The dark of the wood has gone even blacker. The wolf before him is being swallowed into the beginning of the night. She is so beautiful. Evil in pure form. He may want to mate with her before killing her. Just gazing at her is starting to rouse him. The feeling is different than his blood lust, but just as dangerous. He focuses on her blue eyes. They are a contrast to her dark looks. The color speaks of kindness. He hates the shade. They should be blood red. That would be perfect.

Her next question confuses him. What could he offer this pack? Their deaths. But he can't say that. So then what? Other's death? The voices suggest. No he can't reveal that. Strength? They say. Yes, he is strong. His tall build proves that. Shoulders roll, tail wags slightly. "I am strong." But that's not all. He is quick. "I can hunt and I can fight," he adds. He can also destroy, track, plan. His mind is cunning, his body well toned. How could she resit him? That gets under his skin. But why should it matter? He doesn't care about this female. Other than her death of course. Maybe that was it. He needs her to want him so her death is that much sweeter.

I can hunt and I can fight, he said. That phrase made her want to laugh. So can everyone else. She wanted to say, her face calm as she insulted him. But she kept her tongue behind her lips. He was hiding other talents as well, some kind of cunning, the wisdom to keep his dark desires hidden from the world, so that he could manipulate others. Now that was talents she wanted to hear, but no one right in their mind would ever say that out loud.

"That is all very well and said," She kept to her formal, clipped tones as she probed him further. "But do you have any specific talents or trades? Such as healing, counseling or the like?" She wondered if her elogation of this conversation would annoy him in anyway. He seemed like the impatient young killer, who simply wanted to feed his bloodlust as soon and as often as possible.

Just let me know if you get uncomfortable with anything that Grim is thinking :x

The female doesn't take him at just hunting and fighting. He scowls internally. She wants to know his skills and trades. But what were trades? And how could he tell her his skills without revealing his inner killer? Adapt, the voices advise. Lie, they suggest. He can't exactly lie about skills. That would easily be found out. "I am an excellent tracker. I can find almost anything." That is innocent enough. But what else could he say? "I have enough stamina to track things for weeks." That seems a bit weak. Nothing else comes to mind. He decides to move on to the trades thing that was mentioned. "I've never been in a pack. I'm not sure what a trade is." What if she turns him away for this lack of knowledge? That can't happen. Will she fault him for this? It was his uncles fault that he never knew a pack. Damn him. Even in death his uncle still affects him.

He should have gone searching for his pack. After his uncle stole him away. But they had traveled for a full season. How could a pup have found his way back? He should have tried. He could have had more than his uncle's death on his paws too. The whole pack could have been killed. He is only an amature now, a new killer. For his own kind at least. He used to spend his hunting days torturing his prey. A deer enters his thoughts. There was that first kill he did on his own. He had seperated it from the herd. Drove it in another direction for days. Each time it slowed he would jump out and chase the deer. Eventually it fell, he had calmly walked to it. The thing had enough energy to struggle, but it couldn't stand. He had taken small painful bites from its hide for days. Torturing it. The doe had screamed it's terror and pain at him until it died.

No it's fine. :P

He had not been in a pack before, nor had he ever heard about trades. Well, it was time for him to learn. "A trade is a special skill that a wolf can learn by performing tasks that correspond for it. For example, a Gamekeeper is a hunter, and you earn the trade by, well, hunting. There are Warrior and Warden, which are similar, except Wardens are more focused on defense, while Warriors are focused on offense. And there are others as well, like Healer, Naturalist, Caretaker, Counciler, et cetera." She gave him a basic summary of the system, but if he wanted to learn more then he just had to ask.

"That being said, you do not need to have a trade to join a pack, I simply wanted to know. If you do have any other hidden skills that you are uncertain of," Or hiding from me, she added internally. "Then a pack is the best place to find them." The priestess watched his eyes for any reaction to her words, to her subtle way of saying: I know what you are up to. "Regardless, I would be happy to accept you into my pack, Grimnir." Provided you do not try to slaughter my whole pack. The moment that you do I'll have the Dark Brotherhood rip your throat out.

The black as night female describes trades to him. He listens uncaringly at first. Halfway through, something catches his attention. Warrior. That sounded good. He could fight. That could staunch his blood lust. What she says after, he doesn't catch. His mind imagines great battles and fields of death. Warrior, the voices agree. Fight, they hum. He is a warrior already. But he will have to show them. He grins internally, they will find out soon enough. Not in a way they would live through.

Relief greets him at her words of trades not being required. That is off his back now. He remains silent as she mentions finding hidden talents. Eyes flash. He knows all his skills. That isn't something she can know. But he will play along with it. His head nods to her. Yes, discover his other abilities. What fools. It is after this she offers words of acceptance. His smile widens. Glorious. He bows his head low. "Thank you, my Lady." He gazes longingly behind her. Now he is not sure what to do. "Is there anything that I need to do?"

Last post from me!

He only nodded to her words about discovering his skills and hid whatever he was thinking well. A part of her wanted to add him to the ranks of the Dark Brotherhood almost immediately, but she wanted to monitor him first. See how he interacted with the others of her pack and see what they think.

"For now, I want you to acquaint yourself with the territory before heading to the pack's main meetingplace in the tunnels underneath the forest." She said, rising to her feet. "Welcome to Blackfeather Woods." She gave him once last glance before disappearing back into the darkness of the woods, heading quickly to her pups. This wolf made her feel uneasy, and a pit of dread formed in her stomach. She hoped she would not regret letting him into her pack.