May 18, 2017, 09:54 PM
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she came from the south, where the forest reached on and blackened the landscape. she came as if called forth by the trees - a lumbering ent in pursuit of others which shared her traits. progress was slow, but there was progress still. when something blocked her path she would fight against it and prevail, coming out the other side as if there had never been an obstacle to begin with. the wolf was not swayed by the many twists and turns before her, nor the fallen oaks, the ancient elms, the rotted-out stumps that were netted by moss and fern alike. everything could be overcome - so she fought on, and came out the other side of the forest, far to the north of where she'd begun her efforts, and gasped a deep breath from the open air beyond the dark limits of the trees.
what met the behemoth's flared nostrils was something she was overjoyed to taste; there were wolves here. somewhere, either nearby or a mere day's march, maybe longer... but they were here. she wouldn't be alone any longer! poor juria. poor sweet juria, poor naive juria... there was no telling what sorts of adventure awaited her in this new place, and rather than take a moment to think about it - and potentially reconsider this life-altering decision and reverse course - she went against the vague unease that had settled through her bones, and plunged ahead. reaching strides carried her beyond the dark woodland at quite the clip, and as the spring air filled her lungs, she felt a renewed sense of hope.
her path led north, but not wholly out of the woodlands yet but close enough. each time her burly self crossed out of the shadows and each time her paws found purchase through soft grassland rather than the uneven dirt of the grove, she felt a spasm of glee shoot through her entire body; but there were always more trees, always more darkness. each gleeful moment was countered by its antithesis: the dark to balance the light, a dreadful feeling of worry to serve as catalyst to the freedom and delight. by the time she truly left the forest behind juria's easy lope had become a sluggish crawl. her raised head and bright expression had become more guarded, and then dulled - she didn't look up as she left behind the boughs of the last pine, barely noticed when the soundlessness of the open field met her ears rather than the creaking of the wood.
she had found freedom, but was numbed to it.
the light was all around her - but she saw her own cast shadow, long and dark against the moody sky; it was early evening now, and she felt a biting chill from a sudden wind. when juria did look up, she saw only greyness. the fading light of the sun. an errant star peeking through the navy clouds above - and it was like the forest hadn't ended.
what met the behemoth's flared nostrils was something she was overjoyed to taste; there were wolves here. somewhere, either nearby or a mere day's march, maybe longer... but they were here. she wouldn't be alone any longer! poor juria. poor sweet juria, poor naive juria... there was no telling what sorts of adventure awaited her in this new place, and rather than take a moment to think about it - and potentially reconsider this life-altering decision and reverse course - she went against the vague unease that had settled through her bones, and plunged ahead. reaching strides carried her beyond the dark woodland at quite the clip, and as the spring air filled her lungs, she felt a renewed sense of hope.
her path led north, but not wholly out of the woodlands yet but close enough. each time her burly self crossed out of the shadows and each time her paws found purchase through soft grassland rather than the uneven dirt of the grove, she felt a spasm of glee shoot through her entire body; but there were always more trees, always more darkness. each gleeful moment was countered by its antithesis: the dark to balance the light, a dreadful feeling of worry to serve as catalyst to the freedom and delight. by the time she truly left the forest behind juria's easy lope had become a sluggish crawl. her raised head and bright expression had become more guarded, and then dulled - she didn't look up as she left behind the boughs of the last pine, barely noticed when the soundlessness of the open field met her ears rather than the creaking of the wood.
she had found freedom, but was numbed to it.
the light was all around her - but she saw her own cast shadow, long and dark against the moody sky; it was early evening now, and she felt a biting chill from a sudden wind. when juria did look up, she saw only greyness. the fading light of the sun. an errant star peeking through the navy clouds above - and it was like the forest hadn't ended.
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May 21, 2017, 01:35 AM
It was never a good thing to be alone. But that rule in itself, was subjective. Slade loved the lack of company. And never once, did he complain about solitude. He wanted the exile. He craved the silence. It was a passion he learned to hoard just as selfishly as he would a free shank of venison from the fangs of starving. The Nightmare King was, as he always was.
Horrible.
Today was different, however. He was leaving his den a bit early today, the massive once bear-housing den his own as it had been for years now, to go hunt. Nothing major, just something to sate peckishness. He never liked being hungry, thirsty, as it messed with rationale. Though it could have been minute, he still took no chances. Just as he left the den, something struck him as odd within the Phantom Hallows...All of the prey were already hidden. Someone or something was reducing his preys offhanded naivity, and the Shadow Sire did not take too kindly to this.
Molten irises of fiery orange scoured the lands, searing through the cover he called his own. Several prints left in the somber lands screamed to him in the scene of crime...
Someone had passed through these lands. And the prey did not know exactly who it was, thus rending them fearful of the unknown, and retiring earlier than usual.
Pity.
He would have to have a bit of chat with this...visitor...this...intruder.
He stood, his full height dwarfing the average wolf through strong genes of Mackenzie lupine heritage. He was fully aware of his towering effects over others, and the regal King enjoyed every second those who had to look up to him took to feel uneasy.
Taking to the shadows of the Hallows, Slade made his way through the petrified forest, the mist clinging to the feet of gnarled roots and shrubs alike giving a ghostly waft to the steps he silently did. He was nothing but a passing void, there one second,
gone the next.
It was a full seven minutes before he came to anything of intrest. A scent, lone, and feminine, perfume the male knew well from these parts. He couldn't gauge anything more than that, the scent faint, bu using it he began to track down the direction, then eventually the general vicinity of whoever made the aroma he felt belonged to the tresspasser of his Hallows.
Volcanic gems latched to a form, single, and wandering through the brighter fringes of the woods. A wolf that seemed just as large as he was if not a smidge smaller, and he questioned immediately his evidence. The brutess was quite larger than the average female, and personally, if he had been perhaps born female, they would be locked in a combat neck and neck for better build. He, being a hard-trialed male, evidently held a more willing muscle density, but who was this? And how far did they extend their own livelihood to achieve their own?
The Wicked Messiah treked soundlessly toward the woman, his nares taking to anything that could give him more information on this lupine. Only until he neared, did he speak, silken baritones cutting through the air with no sense of regard for anything other than the female before him.
"What could bring you so far from the world of the sane, miss? As you know, this is the land of the damned, the deceived, and the devoid, yes?"
Horrible.
Today was different, however. He was leaving his den a bit early today, the massive once bear-housing den his own as it had been for years now, to go hunt. Nothing major, just something to sate peckishness. He never liked being hungry, thirsty, as it messed with rationale. Though it could have been minute, he still took no chances. Just as he left the den, something struck him as odd within the Phantom Hallows...All of the prey were already hidden. Someone or something was reducing his preys offhanded naivity, and the Shadow Sire did not take too kindly to this.
Molten irises of fiery orange scoured the lands, searing through the cover he called his own. Several prints left in the somber lands screamed to him in the scene of crime...
Someone had passed through these lands. And the prey did not know exactly who it was, thus rending them fearful of the unknown, and retiring earlier than usual.
Pity.
He would have to have a bit of chat with this...visitor...this...intruder.
He stood, his full height dwarfing the average wolf through strong genes of Mackenzie lupine heritage. He was fully aware of his towering effects over others, and the regal King enjoyed every second those who had to look up to him took to feel uneasy.
Taking to the shadows of the Hallows, Slade made his way through the petrified forest, the mist clinging to the feet of gnarled roots and shrubs alike giving a ghostly waft to the steps he silently did. He was nothing but a passing void, there one second,
gone the next.
It was a full seven minutes before he came to anything of intrest. A scent, lone, and feminine, perfume the male knew well from these parts. He couldn't gauge anything more than that, the scent faint, bu using it he began to track down the direction, then eventually the general vicinity of whoever made the aroma he felt belonged to the tresspasser of his Hallows.
Volcanic gems latched to a form, single, and wandering through the brighter fringes of the woods. A wolf that seemed just as large as he was if not a smidge smaller, and he questioned immediately his evidence. The brutess was quite larger than the average female, and personally, if he had been perhaps born female, they would be locked in a combat neck and neck for better build. He, being a hard-trialed male, evidently held a more willing muscle density, but who was this? And how far did they extend their own livelihood to achieve their own?
The Wicked Messiah treked soundlessly toward the woman, his nares taking to anything that could give him more information on this lupine. Only until he neared, did he speak, silken baritones cutting through the air with no sense of regard for anything other than the female before him.
"What could bring you so far from the world of the sane, miss? As you know, this is the land of the damned, the deceived, and the devoid, yes?"
![[Image: lodaup96f21.gif]](http://www.auplod.com/u/lodaup96f21.gif)
May 21, 2017, 01:23 PM
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had she not been so worn out, juria would have been keenly attuned to the stars above her head. she would have been vying for a place among them - or as near to them as possible - so as to reach an understanding. to speak with them, commune, drift from spot to spot of light, and remember all that her mother had taught to her. the darkness was overwhelming her at this point. the single star blossomed in to a handful, in to many, and still she kept her head down and averted; she yearned to stare upon the constellations and remember her mother, but knowing of the pain she'd feel as well... juria chose to avoid the pain, focus on the physical world around her and not the spiritual, the present rather than the past, and sank deeper into her foul mood.
it was at this point - this precipice - that a voice boomed from the darkness, startling her ears and making juria jam on the brakes. she halted instantly; and as her dark fur puffed, she spun in place and hunted for the body (she presumed) would be attached. the words themselves faded on the air; she rhuminated over them for a split-second as she spied the dark beast, almost like a knight versus a dragon or something of equal calibur, and the first thing to pop out of her mouth was:
it was at this point - this precipice - that a voice boomed from the darkness, startling her ears and making juria jam on the brakes. she halted instantly; and as her dark fur puffed, she spun in place and hunted for the body (she presumed) would be attached. the words themselves faded on the air; she rhuminated over them for a split-second as she spied the dark beast, almost like a knight versus a dragon or something of equal calibur, and the first thing to pop out of her mouth was:
that's a mouthful of a name - you sure that's where i am?her brow was furrowed and she looked at him the way an adult might look at a child blathering on about their favorite cartoons. kind of like, yeah bud, just stay over there with your toys. whether this stranger posed any real danger or not, she'd soon come to understand. for now though, juria was struggling to take him seriously at all. after a breath she added:
sorry, is this your forest?
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May 21, 2017, 02:46 PM
Slade only chuckled at the swift slash of subtle rudeness, the gentle thunder booming from deep within this throat. The hostility hurt him none.
The second question was worth an answer, but only barely. Apologies were useless in a situation like this, as no harm was done to him. Tempered rumble of chained destruction, he gently replied, "If it were, your body would have been fodder at mercy to the elements, love."
As the brute came to admire her pelt, a fierce aurora of varied chocolates and earthen colors, he found himself speaking again.
Fiery oranges met her own.
"This is Haunted Woods. Welcome to the abode of illusionists."
The second question was worth an answer, but only barely. Apologies were useless in a situation like this, as no harm was done to him. Tempered rumble of chained destruction, he gently replied, "If it were, your body would have been fodder at mercy to the elements, love."
As the brute came to admire her pelt, a fierce aurora of varied chocolates and earthen colors, he found himself speaking again.
Fiery oranges met her own.
"This is Haunted Woods. Welcome to the abode of illusionists."
May 22, 2017, 10:17 PM
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she should have anticipated a mouthful from the strange wolf; he seemed like the type to hide-out in his parent's basement playing DnD and living off of stale cheetohs, but maybe her perception of him was a bit lacking. maybe he was something more foul? but the neckbeard-esque feeling did not abate.
wait a sec, you're not making sense.something about the elements? she looked at him as if he were sporting gills, or had eight legs, or in the manner she might look at an old man spouting foolish stories. if this wasn't his forest then why was he even talking to her? gosh.
spooky forest, check. dunno anything about an illu-sa-whatever, but i best be off.hopefully whatever was affecting this guy wasn't transmitting to her through speech. juria began to put some space between them, not because she feared for herself physically (she was formidable in her own right), but because he was just so weird.
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May 30, 2017, 02:27 PM
Slade's molten gems began to simmer, golden oranges taking full reign of illuminating his mood. He had no patience for abraisive youth and their lack of manners. He was cordial, prompt, and well mannered, while she disregarded his words, and even moreso disrespected his tolerance.
However, the King was understanding. She was simply not brought up to respect her elders. Simple as that. And he was not her sire, so there was no real reason why he should start teaching her today.
There was also no real reason holding him grom gutting her right now. An entertaining fancy...a livid fantasy...one that blessed his vile and sadistic side.
His ruff shivered, the gentle movements causing the majority of his cape to fluff up, and drape daringly over the mass of his shoulders. Chest edged forward as his ears faced behind him. Crown was held high, though the two suns that framed his chiseled face were locked intently on this girl.
He wanted...to kill her.
"Leave this forest. And if I catch you returning, your blood will be next to stain the soil."
The Shadow King lunged for her after the remaining lull of his thunderous baritones danced between them, jaws that were rumored to be laced with poison aimed for a dangerous lock on her. Anywhere...anywhere with blood. He wanted to teach her that disrespect was not tolerated to him. He had been too nice as of late. This was his retribution. His redemption.
And her only chance to haul ass.
However, the King was understanding. She was simply not brought up to respect her elders. Simple as that. And he was not her sire, so there was no real reason why he should start teaching her today.
There was also no real reason holding him grom gutting her right now. An entertaining fancy...a livid fantasy...one that blessed his vile and sadistic side.
His ruff shivered, the gentle movements causing the majority of his cape to fluff up, and drape daringly over the mass of his shoulders. Chest edged forward as his ears faced behind him. Crown was held high, though the two suns that framed his chiseled face were locked intently on this girl.
He wanted...to kill her.
"Leave this forest. And if I catch you returning, your blood will be next to stain the soil."
The Shadow King lunged for her after the remaining lull of his thunderous baritones danced between them, jaws that were rumored to be laced with poison aimed for a dangerous lock on her. Anywhere...anywhere with blood. He wanted to teach her that disrespect was not tolerated to him. He had been too nice as of late. This was his retribution. His redemption.
And her only chance to haul ass.
May 31, 2017, 05:51 PM
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he didn't seem to like her banter, not that she really cared. it wasn't like she was here to make friends - he'd just happened upon her. and in the spirit of keeping herself in one piece, juria decided it was better off that she leave. he didn't seem so happy with her now; the stranger tossed a threat her way, although she'd had an inkling that he was a volatile sort of beast and was already moving to depart. she didn't bother saying another word - much more content with keeping away from the spooky forest and its current resident. note to self: avoid misty havens where crazy old men live. good life lesson.
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