***For reader purposes, this event is taking place in the Plains. I've posted it here just to keep things neat and clean on the boards***
The old wolf had come to kill or be killed.
In the dregs of the morning, right before the heat of summer rose to scorch the grasses and dry clay of the plains, the old enemy of the Jungle was slinking casually into Beqanna again. His head held high, Lupei whuffed the crackling breeze with a teal blue muzzle and shook a maneless neck to loosen the muscles underneath. It was perfect weather, hadn’t rained in days, and a spark could catch easily enough out here if someone wasn’t careful. The thought brought a peaceful smile to his face.
Ahead, the long, yellow stalks of waxy vegetation shivered and his ears rose, slate blue eyes narrowing at the rustle of activity. “Wyrm.” The bicolored stallion called out, knowing that particular smell no matter the shape it took. A marmoset, brown and curious, leapt from the underbrush and with a quick chatter re-shaped itself, skin bubbling and expanding, to take the form of a lithe, green horse. “Father.” He acknowledged.
There was pride in the tattooed stallion’s eyes as he gazed to his creation, emotion welling deep within him that brought back an onslaught of memories. They were blood, the elder having taught the younger everything he could and more. But, despite this, he can still see the hard edge to his child’s gaze. “You think that you’ll stop me?” He questions aloud, following with a bark of laughter. “I made you, ungrateful freak.”
“But I understand.” The old man shrugs, a sly smile replacing the earlier, mocking one. His slender, darker legs push him forward to where his viridian son stands, immobile. “You’ve come to have your taste of the fire. I can see the hunger in your perverse stare.” He taunts. Neither move. A pack elder does not go willingly, or quietly, into the night when he’s lead for so long. “They’ll suffer. All of them.” He promises aloud, the smile and laughter gone from him. Revenge was hard to let go of once it was left to fester. “So do your best.” He snarls.
Like a flash, the white fire licks out around him, scorching the earth bare to leave only hard, black clay. Lupei snaps once and then shifts to a great, shaggy black wolf as a wild snarl rips through the air. A clear challenge.
Kill, or be killed.
The old wolf had come to kill or be killed.
In the dregs of the morning, right before the heat of summer rose to scorch the grasses and dry clay of the plains, the old enemy of the Jungle was slinking casually into Beqanna again. His head held high, Lupei whuffed the crackling breeze with a teal blue muzzle and shook a maneless neck to loosen the muscles underneath. It was perfect weather, hadn’t rained in days, and a spark could catch easily enough out here if someone wasn’t careful. The thought brought a peaceful smile to his face.
Ahead, the long, yellow stalks of waxy vegetation shivered and his ears rose, slate blue eyes narrowing at the rustle of activity. “Wyrm.” The bicolored stallion called out, knowing that particular smell no matter the shape it took. A marmoset, brown and curious, leapt from the underbrush and with a quick chatter re-shaped itself, skin bubbling and expanding, to take the form of a lithe, green horse. “Father.” He acknowledged.
There was pride in the tattooed stallion’s eyes as he gazed to his creation, emotion welling deep within him that brought back an onslaught of memories. They were blood, the elder having taught the younger everything he could and more. But, despite this, he can still see the hard edge to his child’s gaze. “You think that you’ll stop me?” He questions aloud, following with a bark of laughter. “I made you, ungrateful freak.”
“But I understand.” The old man shrugs, a sly smile replacing the earlier, mocking one. His slender, darker legs push him forward to where his viridian son stands, immobile. “You’ve come to have your taste of the fire. I can see the hunger in your perverse stare.” He taunts. Neither move. A pack elder does not go willingly, or quietly, into the night when he’s lead for so long. “They’ll suffer. All of them.” He promises aloud, the smile and laughter gone from him. Revenge was hard to let go of once it was left to fester. “So do your best.” He snarls.
Like a flash, the white fire licks out around him, scorching the earth bare to leave only hard, black clay. Lupei snaps once and then shifts to a great, shaggy black wolf as a wild snarl rips through the air. A clear challenge.
Kill, or be killed.