|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Sun Jun 15, 2008 7:11 pm
Lord of the Flies. . . that's what he was. The stallion snorted, giving himself a good shake before carrying on his trot. Heavy rainfall and nearby moisture of a running stream caused the insects population to explode, and it caused Chandar hell.
"God damnit. . . ." He snarled, tail flicking like a whip, smacking against his flank and sides. If the insects and heat weren't bad enough, an empty stomach was causing the stallion even more grief. Grasses and berries never seemed to fill him, and the hunger within him seemed to get worse and worse. In a sort of desperation, the stallion had nibbled upon carrion and found its taste different but not bad. . . but just his luck, today there was no prey to hunt, no dead beasts to steal.
Fate seemed to laugh at his pathetic state and Chandar could only snarl back. Endlessly lost, forever alone, the stallion knew no other way of life. His life was nothing but a beast that lurked through shadow, a creature unfit to enter society. He avoided other soquili like a plague and sneered at those he silently witnessed. Hate seemed to consume him like a fire and mistrust made up his soul. Lost to his eternal night, Chandar knew no good, nor was it a word his understood.
Temperamental and incredibly irritable, today it seemed would be no exception for Chandar's eternal horrible, terrible, no-good, very bad life.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Jun 15, 2008 7:58 pm
Those fierce teeth had stripped away the meat from off of the carcass, the blood drained while the only sweet treat which remained was the best part of any kill. There was something about the flavor of bone marrow- that bitter-sweet sensation that it left in ones mouth and the satisfaction of breaking bones open in order to retrieve it. Perhaps it was in a way a stress relief in shattering bone after bone but the drive and desire to continue never seemed to waiver nor become a disregarded thought. Fangs continued to clack and gnaw upon the leg bone as small fissures and fractures began to cover its surface until the bone gave a sudden snap and splintered. Glowing, blue orbs widened with delight as she chuckled, nostrils intaking that invigorating scent as she slid her tongue against the exposed, inner surface of the bone.
"A fitting payment for a simple task," she mused, her voice cool, nonchalant and relaxed as malice and a twinge of an unstable persona seemed to curl her maw into a grin. "The spirits certainly have quite the taste when it comes for endeavouring within things of darkness."
Eerie, green flames kindled upon her tail and right forehoof, licking at her body in a harmless manner while fireflies seemed to drift lazily within the air. The night was one that was rather docile- something far from the mysterious and riled nights where she could hear her brethern solace their shrill and haunting howls across the land and the blood curdling screams of their victims echoing acorss the plains with a chilling, sweet melody. Yet so far there had been no howls, no screams and no wanderers who seemed to travel too far from home. The skinwalker couldn't help but frown as she licked the bones clean of its exposed treasure, ears flicking as she lifted her muzzle up into the air and caused a growl to rise softly from the depths of her chest.
"Straaaaaange," the mare whispered.
Nostrils seemed to intake scents within the air as a light breeze began carrying an unfamiliar scent. Ears suddenly stood erect as the scent was becoming stronger as the mare could have sworn that she heard a voice echo off in the distance. A wild grin stretched across her maw as the pelt upon her back seemed to shift slightly as if its paws were itching to run in the direction of the present scent in hopes for the silent night to become something more appealing.
Rising up to her hooves, Howl chuckled softly to herself as she began to stalk quietly into the thick brush of vegetation and foilage.
The fun was about to begin.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Jun 15, 2008 8:38 pm
Something wasn't right.
It occurred only too late for the stallion, whose quiet growling and grousing over the sticky summer conditions distracted him just enough to keep pace. He was walking straight towards Howl and her kill, but he didn't realize his mistake until the deadly silence and stillness of the woods alerted him. Insects were forgotten as his ears twitched forward, trying to assure himself of a sudden chill in the air. No birds chirruped in the last of evenings light, no movement stirred around him. The wildlife hadn't been startled by Chandar's approach, in essence he was harmless; but there was magic afoot and something dark and terrible lurking near. . .
If the deathly silence wasn't enough of a sign, a heavy scent of blood and death could be picked off the breeze. It was almost intoxicating, and caused Chandar a moment of need; was this a feast meant for him or but some sort of trap? No. . . he wouldn't, couldn't bring himself to continue. Though death was present instinct told him to tread with caution; to turn around and run was beneath him, Chandar wasn't afraid of anything, but it also might send the wrong signals. . .
He was no coward. He feared NOTHING, absolutely nothing, but he wasn't stupid. If a predator lurked nearby, Chandar could only hope it was some sort of wolf or bear; something he could out run, something he could take on. There were no predators he feared, no night mares that haunted him that he couldn't handle; though he had no wings, no armor, no spikes or horns that gave him an advantage, Chandar had perhaps the most important thing a predator like him needed - absolutely nothing to lose.
Death didn't fear or concern him. There was no family in his life, no siblings, no parents, no friends; no one but is shadow, his heart beat, and his darkness. They were all a part of him and there for something he could easily break and be free of. His death meant the end of a life that no one knew existed; his death would mean freedom from the world and a chance to rest. Uncaring and apathetic to his state, Chandar wasn't afraid of a fight because only in such moments did he really feel alive.
So the stallion didn't turn and run. . . Ears pinned, nostrils flaring, he continued deeper in to the heart of the woods. Closer to the scent of blood and warning of death, closer to a creature that would unknowingly spurr him on a new path.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Jun 15, 2008 9:12 pm
That intoxicating scent of sweat and the scent of an unfamiliar stirred the mares stomach with the need to feed, to taste the bitter, warm, sticky crimson to ooze within her maw and the taste of tantalizing flesh to fill her belly. Though the foal made a meager meal her ravenous appetite still drove her on deaf steps as she stalked through nights thick shadows as her maw began to salivate. Creatures who dwelled in the thick regions of the forest seemed to fall deathly silent as they created a stillness which ones ears could even hear the crackling of dried, crisp leaves underfoot. As the air was saturated with the wafting scent of pungent blood and acrid sour smell which stung the nostrils nearly lathered th air with a heaviness, Howl remained still as her glowing, blue orbs narrowed out into the shadows while green flames licked at her tail and right, front hoof.
It was amusing when others seemed to fear nothing; that confidents which often carried itself as arrogance seemed to poison its hosts mind often lead those into the clutches of the skinwalker. Besides, there was something so delicious about the taste of fear which seemed to make the flesh of a victim all the more sweeter. As she kept herself still Howl intook a deep breath as that wonderous scent filled her nostrils and triggered her mind to become more alert and attentive. Although the instinct to rip, maim and disembowl would cause any predator to become too hasty, there was a part of Howl that held her back.
Could this be someone who was referred to her by a loyal patron? The smell certainly wasn't familiar and her suppliers of 'payment' would have alerted her beforehand but there was a chance that such a thing perhaps was forgotten to bring it to her attention.
A groan rose from her chest as she exhaled deeply. She'd have to investigate this furture.
Intently watching as a figure of blackest black and vibrant green seemed to tread closer to her domain, the fireflies seemed to elude away from the stranger as the settled back furture into the shadowed grove. The mare stepped forward, keeping herself immersed within the shadows as only her glowing orbs of chilling blue and flames of eerie green illuminated from within the deepest darkness.
"The spirits do not recognize you nor do I, stranger," a voice spoke. "On what means do you come to see the spirits speaker? Have you been sent from someone or are you looking for dark deeds to be done?" A snort exhaled sharply as a hoof pawed at the ground. The clinking and clanking of metal bracelets created a shrill ring as the green flame of her tail swayed within the darkness nearly looking like a spirits presence or a great, fiery entitiy. Howl intook a deep breath, the air still thick with an intoxicating mixture of sweat and fear. What a blessed combination! She pursed her lips slightly, listening to the unheard, still, small whispers of the restless spirirts whose voices sounded within the winds, through the rustling of the brush and even the foreign growls that eminated through the forest.
She listened, pausing as she peered towards the stranger as a grin tugged at her maw. "The spirits believe that you have stumbled upon this place on accident but I will ask again. Why have you come here?"
The spirits had given her the answer yet she was curious. Not that she doubted the spirits on the accuracy of their information- it was more that she was questioning the true intent of the one before her. She was amused while curious of such an intrusion and having a stomach which had yet to be completely satisfied certainly didn't put the situation in favor of the tresspasser. If anything the stranger was about to be pulled into a horrible mess which he hadn't intended; A simple mistake was going to have him end up in a hell of a horrible state or perhaps as her next meal.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Jun 15, 2008 9:55 pm
Chandar caught sight of the glowing green, the bright hue staining his blue gaze. The light burned and caused his brows to furrow, nostrils flaring at this obscene sort of light. What beast was this that lurked within the woods? What creature dare to break the shadows by such a wretched green flame?
A small, logical part of Chandar pleaded his person to run. To get as swiftly out of the situation as possible. Two-leggers often brought orange flames and they were nothing but trouble; fire is what they called it and the male kept as far away from them as possible. But no where in his world had he ever found something that emitted green fire. . . . and something told him it was even more terrible and horrible than the two-legged mans.
Ah, but Chandar didn't often listen to his logic. He had his own road to travel, his own world to discover and this green flame was a mystery he needed to unravel. Though it burned, there was something that was alluring about it, something that seemed to reach out and beckon him closer. Like a moth to the flame, Chandar refused to turn away and thus continued his walk closer. He could make out a shape, a pair of eyes that glowed as brightly as the flame. What beast was this that called out to him? What tricks was she playing, what game did she seek?
Mistrustful as ever, Chandar kept a good distance between himself and the flame, though he stared hard at her without wavering. He gave no sign of fear and felt confident he was able to get away. But then again, Chandar had no idea of what darkness lie outside of his woods. He had never learned to fear soquili because of their differences, he had never learned of the darkness that many others were taught to fear. Experience told him there were shadows. . . but Chandar refused to fear.
Howl was no exception.
Glaring at this strange furred soquili, he pawed at the ground and gave his tail a shake. Spirits? What sort of insane thing had he found. . there were no such thing as spirits. Obviously this creature was crazy, insane. . . . And that meant she wasn't worth his time. Snorting in irritation, he shook his head and turned to the side to continue on his way. . . The sooner he left the crazy one the better.
Dodging through the underbrush, he didn't bother to respond. She wreaked of blood and death and he understood the danger his silence might sow. But the stallion plum didn't care; she meant little to his life and if she was speaking of spirits than surely she had hit her head somewhere in her life. He had noticed the coat of fur she wore, donned like some sort of treasure, but so what. Let it intimidate those weak of heart and spirit - Chandar refused to yeild to her intimidation. Little caring what might come next, he suspected more craziness but so be it. Let her preach to the choir, he didn't have to answer the likes of her.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jun 18, 2008 1:57 pm
Ah. So the male would remain reserved in his idiotic logic, would he?
Howl smirked to herself.
The stallion before her had certainly not been sent by any of her loyal patrons nor would it seem that even the brave, blindsighted male would ever consider taking or thieving anothers life away. Though it seemed that he lacked fear that arrogance and misjudgement must have been a fatal mistake on his part for one who would never answer nor turn away from a skinwalker must be suffering from thrill issues or a good head on their shoulders. The mares ears flickered while her tail a-blaze with green flames flicked outward, lashing behind her like an aroused feline whose victim had made that grievous mistake of stepping forth into the predators domain. A soft chuckle rose from her throat as eerie, luminous eyes watched as he evaded her through the underbrush and within the thickness of nights shadows.
Silly stallion!
Howl grinned nearly from ear to ear as he tongue slid across her fangs with a wild expression. That lust for blood like any cursed beast desired was growing stronger and though she was one who often contained that longing the stallions ignorance and ill respect towards her made that need for the warm, sticky liquid to ooze within her maw once again. Flesh and blood was such a sensational treat! Though it seems that the unsuspecting surprise and realization of true danger within the victim made it all the more sweeter to the taste.
With another flick of her tail and a stomp of her hoof, the flames upon her tail and hoof suddenly engulfed the mare within a fiery inferno of green flames. Though no flame licked or singed her body, Howl cackled with glee as her image within the flames suddenly began to change; her body mass became stockier, heavy and thick with great fur while hooves seemed to mold themselves into great paws adorned with claws that were any predators greatest weapon. The once, slender and meek muzzle had then become more stout, wider with a sensitive nose and a maw adorned with great canines and fangs that could easily rip into flesh with a simple snap of ones jaws. As the flames began to wither from around her, the beast took a step forward.
Rounded ears sat erected upwards while she lifted her muzzle up into the air searching for the scent of the stallion. It was easy to locate as that sour scent tainted with arrogance was hard to miss as it lathered the air thickly.
From the looks of it, it seemed that the stallion was trudging off deeper into the thick regions where the abandoned caves and outcropping of rocks presided as a place where those two-leggers had once camped for a fort night or more. With the ground whose foundation was simply solid rock and the trees surrounding the area so thickly clustered it was near impossible for anyone to escape and the only route to take was the way which one had came by or through the cave but either way it was futile to run. She would trail him until he was dead and Howl would make sure of it.
Rather than bumbling on ahead by means of a short cut to catch him off guard the skinwalker would simply let the stallion lead himself into his own demise. Perhaps then he'd realize that if he had only answered her that she would have let him continue on with his pathetic life but now- well that option was out of the picture now and the stallion was soon to realize what a horrible mistake it was to dodge around her.
As the area around them was nearly engraved in her memory, the skinwalker followed. Each step she took with her great paws seemed almost deaf while her eyes narrowed out into the shadows and ears searched for the sound of hooves to clip-clop against the rocky ground which would prelude to what she could only continue to grin at the thought of.
Death.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jun 24, 2008 8:39 pm
Chandar ignored the mare, irritated that he'd been bothered by her. Who in the hell did she think she was? Just because she had flames and some sort of bear skin; just because she snarled and snapped and looked all sorts of threatening. No . . . . he wasn't intimidated and wasn't going to feel threatened. Pushing his way throughout the woods, Chandar cared not about the chance encounter. . .
The landscape slowly changed from plush vegetation to something colder, crueler. He was nearing the mountains, the land moving uphill and the grounds soft bed of pine needles and soil transforming to cruel rock. Something within the stallion, instinct perhaps, regretted his decision to leave so swiftly. Ah, but then again, the pompous mare must have thought she ruled the woods and was some power to be reckoned with. No. He didn't need her demands or her sass and intimidation; she might scare others that crossed her paths but surely not him.
Snorting softly, he stayed alert, a foreign feeling causing the black and green stallion to pick up his pace. Something told him that his choices would soon haunt him, soon come back to bite him in the a** and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being followed. At first the stallion had thought that the woods might be staring, as the whole world seemed to do. No matter how hard he tried, Chandar could only find the mockery within the woods. Abandoned by his family, the innocence of foalhood had swiftly been taken from his youth. A lone foal had found no friends, no loved ones to take him in; during the embrace of fall he had thrived just fine but when the winter snows first fell life lost its niceties. No one had cared about him through his struggle and so he fought . . . he fought tooth and hoof and did everything he could to keep death away. With the land barren and cold he turned to villages and stole what foods he could; this lead to trouble in many areas but the foal took it.
He had no choice.
As the days turned to months and the months in to years, Chandar grew more and more jaded, more and more bitter. He found no kindness in others, no desire to socialize; he hated himself and through such hate despised others. Deep down, the stallion found himself jealous of just about everyone and everything. . . . Who was he? A nobody. Nameless. Heartless. Worthless.
His pain turned in to cruelties and the stallion kept himself hidden in shadow; bad experiences as a foal reminded him of his place. It was better for everyone if he stayed away.
The clip-clop of his hooves seemed to echo within the mountains. He felt eerily exposed and paused, pondering his next route; he didn't want to turn back in to the woods and yet the mountains offered him no protection. "Damnit. . ." He snarled, blue gaze narrowing in irritation.
Shaking out his disheveled mane, the stallion snorted and continued forward, deeper in to the labyrinth of rock and hill. He'd weave his way and perhaps find some abandoned cave or shelter. The mountains couldn't possibly be home to anyone through choice, and Chandar much preferred a life of solitude than to face any other soquili.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
