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 Posted: Wed Apr 17, 2013 7:52 am
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Posted: Sun Apr 21, 2013 3:31 pm
She had become soft. Nymphalidae wasn't sure how it happened, but she had a pretty good idea where it all started -- Asmodeus. Her obsession with pure kalonas had blinded her and made her trust them too freely, and now here she was, without her foal and alone, weakened and lacking the bravado and fierceness she once possessed. She didn't even have Hallow's Bane to turn to now. Would he still accept her after everything she had done? Did she even want to return? Surely one pure kalona did not represent them all; surely, one of them would want to help her purify her bloodline of weakness. Maybe there was still hope. But her heart wasn't in it as much as it used to be; not when she couldn't stop thinking about her son in Asmodeus' clutches, her other child that she's never known -- and even Hallow's Bane.Hródolf emerged from the woods with the necks of two ducks held tightly in his jaws, and as he approached his mistress she seemed to be lost in her thoughts; it was only when he dropped the pump ducks in front of her that she seemed to snap out of it to look down at his offering. "You should eat, mistress," he offered, leaning down to nose at one of the ducks closer to her before backing away to give her room.Nymphalidae eyed her familiar warily; she was still struggling to trust him again after she learned he had been working for Asmodeus. It couldn't be ignored that he did fight for her, though, and that during his time when he was meant to be spying on her for the kalona, they had formed a bond. He was still here with her now, after all, and had risked his life to help her. She couldn't really explain it, but somehow Nymphalidae didn't think Hródolf would betray her. Even so, she didn't speak to him as she bent her head down to eat, and watched as Hródolf took to keeping watch for danger.
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Posted: Sun Apr 21, 2013 3:56 pm
 Gullveig had been stalking the fluttercorn for some time now, shifted down to her smaller, more agile form, making sure to keep downwind as much as possible. She'd seen the strange, wispy wolf that was accompanying the fluttercorn mare pause to sniff the air several times, and she had crouched down into the tall grass to make herself as small as possible, wings tucked close to her sides so that the wolf wouldn't see her. She was certain a sumple, small fluttercorn and her pet wolf would be no match for her, but Gullveig was still trying to decide if she wanted to toy with her prey first before she killed it, or just eat the mare outright. She was rather hungry, but she's always wondered what it would be like to pluck the wings off a flutter -- how much pain would it cause her prey? would they scream? writhe on the ground in agony? -- and the opportunity was presenting itself here.
Gullveig's eyes narrowed as she watched the other mare, attempting to picture it, and it was far too tantalizing an idea now. With her mind made up, she rolled her shoulders and stretched out her hind legs, preparing to attack the obviously defenceless creature, but just as she had been about to pounce and shift to her larger form, a rustle in the woods to her side caught her attention and she paused, ears upright in attention as she sniffed the air. She had been certain the fluttercorn had no other companions... but when she caught the scent, her lips curled up to bare her teeth, and her body was tense with anticipation and rage. It wasn't a companion of the fluttercorn at all -- it was another skinwalker. Stalking her prey.
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Posted: Mon Apr 29, 2013 5:30 am
Milo slowly stalked the fluttercorn. She looked positively delicious. He knew that he was supposed to be bringing her back to his mother and father, but he might "accidentally" forget that detail, and keep her all to himself. Really what he was more interested in was gutting her, and then rolling around in the warm entrails. Har'koa always scolded him for that. Food was food. We hunt to eat. But Milo, Milo loved the killing, and one could conjecture that he had a few more screws loose than the average skinwalker. He was the quiet type, but had a storm and desire under his eyes that was just unnerving.
But he always had an internal struggle. More than he wanted to torment his prey and then revel in the kill, he wanted to prove to his mother that he was the stronger and better son. More than anything he hated his brother, Poe'thas. But his desire to please his mother also ran parallel to his desire to just piss her off and do the opposite of what she wanted. He knew it made no sense to both seek her acceptance and her rage. And so Milo'koa had achieved nothing so far, and lived his life under her thumb, running errands like fetching dinner.
The leaves rustled beneath him. He had drifted off as he daydreamed his dark fantasies, and wasn't paying attention to what was around him. This form was too large, so he shifted to his cat form. Hopefully it would be a bit quieter.
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Posted: Mon Apr 29, 2013 5:51 am
The sky was bright blue today, and the few clouds were only little wisps. It was clear and beautiful; a perfect day for a flight around the countryside. But Storm Wind's pleasure trip was interrupted as he spied a lone damsel about to be in distress.
He flapped his wings and circled in the air around the scene. He had a great perspective of what was about to transpire below. The pink flutter and her little wolf were on the edge of the forest, and there was a loud skinwalker coming her way.
He couldn't just stand by and let a lady be taken! But how to warn her without becoming dinner himself? Maybe she was alerted by all the noise, and would leave before things got too dangerous?
Storm Wind decided to stay where he was, and see where things went. He could always jump in and help if it were needed, which of course would make him look even more dashing and brave. She would appreciate a rescue more if she were actually in danger.Sorry this is a bit late! The next reply will be a bit faster. heart
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