His limbs throbbed. His heart pounded furiously. Its beat resounded through his seemingly hollow chest, and echoed through his ears, deafening the sounds of the wildlife around him. His pads, they bled from trampling over hard, sharp stones cutting into the ignorant, soft, black flesh of the very paws that knew only of temperatures way below zero, and snow that never melted. The resolve, the determination that kept him on his feet, was comming straight from his brain. And it told him to go. So he went. And he did not stop until his brain told him he was safe. For now.
He had no clue what terrain he was in, but from the day Vector spent with the humans, he had noticed it was completely opposite from his homeland. Prey. Temperature. Time. Rules. Language. All was different, unlike anything the fiery brown man had ever laid himself into.
Vector had come to the conclusion that the water at least had to be near similar.
Hopefully. His tongue was dry, and his throat seemed to want to swell from lack of refreshment. Upon traveling from the east, the male followed the dampness of the dirt, the earth telling him how far he needed to go to quench his thirst. Yet it deceived him. He arrived at a creek. A dangerous one, one who held anger in her movements, rushing swiftly, and no intention on stoping. If he fell into her...he would be dead. Before he even thought of what to do of his predicament, his brain decided to make him act. Close enough to the edge, Vector began digging a hole, scooping the rich, wet dirt into heaps, on the far side of the gap. Then, he dug a redish brown paw inward, making a tunnel in the hole, opening it to the creek. She released her liquid with surprising slowness in comparison to her current, but it was powerful enough to fill the hole he had made, with no issues. He lowered his crown to the tiny new bowl of water, fresh, and accomplished by him, as he satisfied his need for water. He raised his head, newly watered, and scanned his surroundings with his dark framed emerald eyes, taking in the images. After analyzing the location, he then sniffed around, searching for any scent of prey, predator, or potential other wolves that could assist him.
A smell stuck to his nares, holding Vector captive to its information. A pack. Here. They lived near. Very near. The area a smidge west from his location, a few paced from his current spot, was their border. Strong. No injuries. Well off.
All of it pumped into his brain, the necessities sticking where they should, all other unneeded info discarded. Vector placed a reminder that this was new land to him, and with that, he had to remain humble, and willing to listen. His priorities were intact. All he needed to was act. Launch the mission. Managing to make his way over several hills, he reached a vast plain of soft and tall grasses, pungent with the smell of another member from the pack he had encountered by nose, before. This was what he wanted.
The crimson shielded male raised his crown, wondering of he was making the right choice. Before he even had the chance to think more on the matter, his vocals sounded a howl, one he had recognized to be one of calling. His voice rang clear, the deep tones riviting throught the trees, requesting politely for the appearance of the leader of the lands.
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He was not in a good mood today, something that happened to him often whenever things were done incorrectly. Today he was on patrol, his expression impassive as he trotted by the borders and marked them every few steps. He was in no mood to deal with any disrespectful bastards today and hopefully everyone would know their place today for if they didn't, they might just be unlucky and have him come around. That wouldn't be good, for them at least, it would be amusing for him. “Nothi" he muttered to himself as he walked, although none of his anger and frustration showed on his expressionless face.
He hoped to have a peaceful patrol today but apparently the gods decided that they were going to send him something to increase his bad mood. Great, I can finally taste blood again. he thought in a sadistic manner as he trotted towards the stranger's smell even before the howl requesting for his presence rang through the air. He adopted a dangerous smirk was he appeared in front of a male wolf with black and pale red fur. The glint in his platinum eyes -that either meant he was a madman or a genius- brightened, it usually dimmed when he was in a good mood or a normal mood but on days like this or when anything provoked him, it brightened giving his royal features and even more dangerous look than usual.
It was said that the glint in his eye was a trait of the Angelus Mortis line, and that was true for his father, brother and sister all had that glint. As a descendent of all three gods, Pluto was the original founder of his bloodline before Jupiter and Neptune came in. Apparently the god of the dead had given them the trait, a good one at that.
His tail raised dominantly over his hackles as he approached, head raised high and his posture stating he was of the highest rank. Silver gaze cold, steely and calculating locked with the other's emerald gaze. The glint almost glowing as he looked, the smirk dancing n his handsome features as he moved forward again until he was about a feet away from the stranger. The stranger was too close to his borders for comfort so with a dangerous growl he spoke in his trademarked soft icy voice "Move away from my borders now or you will never be able to move again favimus maestam."
He moved forward again, ready to pounce on the stranger if he didn't move. He was sure that the other wolf was a good fighter but he was a Roman, a born warrior of the gods, trained many years in the Legion. His build giving him both strength, speed and agility and no matter how strong or fast the other wolf was, the silver Praetor was confident he could beat him. It wasn't arrogance or pride that made him think like that, but a certain sureness that he would. To him it was a fact, the fact was he could defeat the stranger, he knew he was one of the best warriors in Rome, he wasn't boasting, it was merely a fact.
Quote: its fine, I felt like pulling a submissive card, anyways. :P sorry for the short post, I was in school.
Vector heard a voice, a voice that was backed by authorized strength. The leader. Now was his time to do what he must to complete his mission.
"Yes, Sir." he barked, his russian accent pumping the words with foreign tongue, but holding English strength, as he immediately took the position of submission, swiftly lowering his soft pale belley to the ground, his flare oranged hued tail tucked beneath his lower half, ears lowered flat across his dense skull, and lowered gaze. He scooted backwards, not lifting his form even a half of a centimeter, until he was well farther from the heavily scented border than he was previously.
Vector awaited the next words of the leader.
Yes, Sir. said the stranger, lowering himself onto his belly, his tail tucked and moved backwards but his act did not soothe the silver Roman. He did not tolerate trespassers or wolves that stood too close to his borders. He was harsh, yes and unforgiving but he was also fair and so he would give the pathetic stranger cowering in front of him a fair trial. Or at least a fair trial for himself. Calculating silver eyes analyzed the other with an almost lazy drift of his eyes before moving forward again so he was directly in front of the stranger.
"I am not 'Sir'." he said coldly, tilting his head slightly as he spoke. "I am Hadrian." the leader used his formal name because he knew if this wolf ever ran away to the Creek, they would not know who Hadrian was because they only knew him as Shadow. "But you will address me as 'Praetor'" he said simply, he would have said he was the Emperor but Praetor was more military-like.
"Why did you call for me and stand so near the borders barbarian?" he said in his trademarked icy and soft tone, edged with danger. The maniatic glint in his eye as bright as ever as he stared downwards at the stranger. He had called the agouti male a barbarian because that was how the Romans called wolves that were not part of the Empire.
Cold platinum gaze swept over the body of the submitting man, he lifted a paw and attempted to place it on the barbarian's head and press downwards.
He remained unabashed by the tone of his voice, especially after hailing from lands of much colder winters, and having an alpha who had been rumored to have been carved from a massive block of ice, just to strike fear and unrivaled obedience from his pack, which he had undoubtedly recieved, no protests.
"Why did you call for me and stand so near the borders, barbarian? " the stone pelted leader questioned, his tone bringing unseen comfort to the submitting male, for its nostalgic feel of home, the emotionless speech that brought forth the happiness of no attachment.
Vector answered swiftly, his tongue, heart, and brain corresponding in unison with one another, his response quick but measured, timely in fashion, dictated by his experience of being in service as how he wished to be in this pack.
"I desire to join your pack, Praetor. "
Vector awaited the common following question a leader usually asked. What had he to offer. His calculative brain had already come up with his response to the unasked question, yet, the fire hued male refused to speak out of turn.
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"I desire to join your pack, Praetor. " the barbarian said. The silver Emperor laughed coldly, the sound chilling the air and he lowered his head so he was near the barbarian's level and spoke in an icy soft voice. "You desire to join my pack, huh? Well, barbarian, I see no reason why I should let you in my ranks. After all, you have nearly trespassed on my lands even after calling for me, surely that means you are stupid and I have no use for stupidity in my pack." he paused.
"Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you right now? I am in a good mood to do so." he said simply, finally raising himself back to his full height and gazing at the barbarian with barely veiled contempt. He might bring him back to his pack as a slave, strong, muscular, could do good work along with Enya.
Or he could just kill him right there and to him, that option seemed preferable although he knew killing without reason would get him a place in Tartarus not Elysium and he did not want to be punished when he died. A part of him wished for the other to attack him to give him a reason to kill but that was bad thinking.
Quote: Nah its fine though. Rave keeps bugging me to get ready for school, and im like "SHUDDUP IM JOININ SHADUH'S PACK, GURL" lolz
Having been raised where the leader's words were law, no matter right or wrong, Vector did not argue. He knew he had no heart of walking onto another packs lands, atleast not by intention. It was something that was more of a suicidal mission, and those weren't missions he was up for. Save death for later. You have more important things to do than die.
The silver sheathed male her stood before him, and asked the very question he was prepared by natural experience to answer, even though it was worded a bit nicer than he was used to.
"Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you right now? I am in a good mood to do so."
" I offer you my body, skills, and strength, Praetor. I hold stealth, speed, and honed fighting abilities that you may use in anyway you wish. From the cold and unforgiving lands or Mother Russia, I hail, yet to you, I wish to serve." he almost said in his accented voice, like a Private to a Drill Sergeant. Keeping his vivid green eyes on the paws of the mono colored man before him, his position unmoving, and voice holding nothing but respect, he hoped he had the necessary required manners of getting in.
"I offer you my body, skills, and strength, Praetor. I hold stealth, speed, and honed fighting abilities that you may use in anyway you wish. From the cold and unforgiving lands or Mother Russia, I hail, yet to you, I wish to serve."
And with that, the Angelus Mortis let loose a bunch of words in his common tongue, latin which he was sure the Russian would not understand. He spoke in a silky scathing tone “Barbarus, et spuria. Quia corpus non habeo, uti, si non videri, quod est melius quam ipsa gallicae una nostrae. Bonum? Et vade ingredere ad Tartara." He smirked, the glint in his eye gleaming brightly as he stared down at the Russian with contempt visible in his silver gaze. This Russian would have to put up more of a fight, better reasons for him to be accepted.
"You have ten seconds before I kill you." he snarled, voice icy, claws glinting as he pulled it away from his head and onto the ground, tail swaying threateningly. Patience no longer existed within the now savage Roman.
Quote: lolz now if he just starts bussing russian out, Shadow's most likely gonna shred him. Not only that, in this entire latin thing, all google understood was 'Go to hell'.
The snarls and language he did not recognize had seethed across his fiery fur absorbed them, with no protest. Ten seconds? He could spew reasons in less than five.
"I am a recon. I seek what it is my leader desires, gathering all intel, with a career of never being caught. My stealth is flawless. My reports I bring back are word for word, no errors in any sentence, no matter how short or long. "
His next occupation flew off of his tongue, the same confidence lathering the russian accented words.
"I am an assassin. If directed to a target, I will not sleep, eat, or return alive, until my mission is complete. That is my blood bound oath, the very chord that binds my words to my very being."
His final paragraph, his humility lowering his tone, but his confident strength still apparent in his speech.
"And I am loyal, and obedient. My loyalty lies with my leader, the one head of the pack, and the pack itself. I donate my body, skills, and soul to the purpose of bettering, strengthening the pack, the level it above all others, reigning it superior, in the shadow of the leader. It is by his will, that I do what his desires. "
He concluded.
"That is my reasoning, Praetor. "
The silver Praetor listened with a bored expression on his face. He spoke too long and Shadow was in a mood to kill him right there and now, he had no use for stupid spies, he was a spy himself, he didn't need other wolves to do his own job. "I am a recon. I seek what it is my leader desires, gathering all intel, with a career of never being caught. My stealth is flawless. My reports I bring back are word for word, no errors in any sentence, no matter how short or long. "
Now he had even more reason to kill this shitty Russian barbarian. "I am an assassin. If directed to a target, I will not sleep, eat, or return alive, until my mission is complete. That is my blood bound oath, the very chord that binds my words to my very being." He had spoken for more than ten seconds now and the Imperator was in no mood to listen to the barbarian's shit. "Shut up," he snarled, cutting him off in mid-sentence."You have spoken and I have listened but the shit you are saying will not do you any good."
A dangerous smirk graced his features as he spoke in an ice cold tone, "I do not need a pathetic spy or assassin. I am one myself and I don't need a barbarian doing my job, thank you very much. Your work means nothing to me."
"Now get up, barbarian and keep your tail tucked between your legs and that damned head of yours lowered."
Quote:if he cut him off, does that mean he didnt hear the rest of the stuff he said? did it exist?
The russian saw his words tossed aside, in the manner of a husk that was no longer desired by a scavenger.This made him pleased to not be attached to such meager things, like words. This had actually pleased the autumn pelted male, that this silver wolf had cut him off. Vector was not one who liked to talk, anyway. Silence and actions spoke louder than words, alone.
"Now get up, barbarian and keep your tail tucked between your legs and that damned head of yours lowered."
At the command, the male had immediately leapt to his fours, not a hair, nor limb out of its submissive place, as he said with a bark of report.
"Yes, Praetor."
Vector, in his swift rise to his paws, had an overwhelming urge to see the lupine who had this authority, but due to the laws of hierarchy and submission, he did not dare submit to the desire, not willing to lose the possibility of chance into the pack, no matter the cost. Even if that meant telling his brain to wait, and not press the issue of mysterious image of the alpha before him. And wait, he did.
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He looked at the Russian with contempt as he leaped to his paws. "You will be my slave." he said coldly with a tilt of his head. "You will not spy or kill anyone. You are now my slave and you will now serve me." he smirked. "Look at me, slave. You will address me as 'Master' and if you even try to leave, your life will be slowly ripped away from you and I'll think of the most horrible way to die for you."
He moved forward, muscles tensed, ready to leap at him in case he tried to escape. Some normal garden work would do this barbarian some good, always thinking he was the best when really he was a pathetic coward. He was pathetic, starving and stealing his pack's resources.
"You have also stole the prey and water of my lands, you will be severely punished for that. And you will work all day and night for me and you will do what I tell you to do and nothing else." he snarled. "Do you understand?"
With emotionless eyes, Vector obeyed, focusing his solemn emerald gaze upon his new headmaster's face, but holding no directual connection to his eyes, only staring at a focal point on Hadrian's face, looking directly at the sterling wolf, but with no subsidiarity that could cause conflict.
At the new burden of leash put upon his shoulders, he did not shift his weight, to make himself comfortable. Vector endured the new role, his heritage teaching him to not cry out, to not have any displeasure at anything life had thrown at him, the same lessons that had made him able to survive the brutalities he had, keeping him alive to see another day. This slavery was nothing new to him. Just the land.
"Yes, Master." Spoken like the wolf who would trudge through all, just to see the next challenge.
"You have also stole the prey and water of my lands, you will be severely punished for that. And you will work all day and night for me and you will do what I tell you to do and nothing else. Do you understand?"
Vector wished to say 'Ya ponimayu' but instead, he stuck with the english. The recon had figured it would upset his new ruler if he spoke in his own native tongue. His accent, which he could turn and off at will, let alone bend it to the accent of most spoken languages, his auds able to capture the specifics of the language's enunciations, and pasting them to his tongue, his memory able to use them to his own methods.
"Understood, Master," he spoke clearly, choosing to keep his accent present, and his identity pure. After all, if this was to be his new leader, his new life, he would have to remain true to it, wouldnt he?
...nah, Vector would always hold secrets. His brain pulsed the benifits of his anonymous life to himself. And the russian agreed. Some secrets must stay silenced.
Mission Accomplished.