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 Posted: Thu Oct 30, 2008 4:11 pm
Name: Seethe
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There was little reason for his current predicament.
As he did most nights, the pale predator had abandoned his lair with scarcely a thought beyond alleviating the boredom he suffered from between feedings. Hunger would gradually remind him of priorities, but until that point, he derived a certain amount of pleasure from watching the unsuspecting. The expressions of the unwary were an interesting thing, changing as they did so rapidly when in groups, and he could find himself studying a single face for hours at a time when alone and to all eyes... unaware of watchers. The young were particularly prone to such things, so Seethe often went out of his way to seek out the 'company' of yearlings and young adults, especially in groups where they would react to one another... and later to him, in a most marvelous fashion.
Sadly, this evening had proven to be uneventful thus far, with only a lone boring unicorn to maneuver around, followed by an aged and decrepit nag of a mare which he had promptly dispatched distastefully. The old and the unicorn race held little intrigue for him beyond hatred, and their flesh was not a thing he cared to sample twice.
But now he faced a dilemma, to return home would leave a sour place in his already unsettled belly, and he could feel the burn of a hunger-lust forming. Yet leaving was the only option he had before him.. since his usual territory was obviously devoid of all preferred prey. But then should he cave to the blood lust now, he knew he would dwell upon the waste later... since Seethe relished the intimate moments between predator and prey.. in particular the looks of fear and awe that commingled upon the faces of the young. Yet if he didn't find something soon.. all opportunity would be lost at having a remotely interesting evening and he would likely still be hungry, as Seethe was quite honest in his assessment of his own hunting capabilities when aroused.
Vexed, he released a low snarl as he reached his decision and crossed the visible marker of his territory... four deep claw marks cut savagely into the wrinkled bark of a sentinel oak. The woods beyond bordered the territory of several large soquili herds and another skinwalker, while beyond them lay the sphere of human influence, when the disgusting Kawani two-leggers made their home and beyond to the beach which the pale two-leggers had fortified. Wrinkling his nose, the mere passing thought of the paler humans annoyed the pale skinwalker further. Their incessant smoke and loud noise had prompted him to move from his earlier territory closer to the coast, where his pale hide had served quite a useful function when he found himself hiding amongst the tall yellowed grasses of the sand dunes. Now, due to the meddling of the soquili herds and a few brave Kawani, Seethe found himself a target at times, with his pale coat showing up painfully against the verdant green of the deep forest.
But the seasons had changed, and with the coming of fall, Seethe found that once again his pelt blended quite easily amongst the brilliant colors of red, orange, and yellow as the leaves changed and winter threatened.
Ah, the seasons... surely all the cretins two- and four-legged would have gathered together by now too remark upon the previous year and make predictions for the new. How dense of him to have forgotten that useful habit of theirs...
So Seethe had traversed the empty territory between the higher mountains and the Kawani village, and found himself in his current spot.
Crouched.
Grinning.
With far to many delicious targets too choose from.
Indeed, little reason for the predicament... but surely he could come up with something to satisfy his imagination later when he relived tonight's moments. As it stood, there were a great deal of younger soquili gathered farthest from the central core where older adults and a scattering of elders chatted and mingled. Easy prey.. one brightly hued filly was almost within his reach... but he held back, relishing the wash of emotions wafting off her vibrant young body as she spoke and blushed with a few of her friends and eyed a young colt a few paces off. So easy, he could smell her from here, the iron tang of her blood as it flowed beneath her lovely golden coat, mixed with the heat of her passion as she spoke to her friends and contemplated the colt. And her face... with the flashing green eyes...
... flashing in the most delicious way as she finally noticed his sly form crouched in the shadow of the trees and met his eyes...
... and he smiled.
... yes... little reason to begin with... but this predicament had become most interesting.
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Posted: Thu Oct 30, 2008 6:20 pm
The Prompt
It seems to be a night of celebration for the two-leggers, but you intend on having a celebration of your own, skinwalker style! On one side, you have the villagers who are too busy celebrating to realize just how poorly they've let their guard down, and on the other, a gathering of Soquili hosting their own festival of sorts. Young and old are among both parties, and all seem to be unaware of your presence. It's obvious that a smorgasbord of opportunity lies in front of you. So...what do you do?----------------------------------------------------------------- Name: Aeveen
Meaning: Promise of tomorrow
Key thing to remember: He only has an active short-term memory of about 10 minutes, which just means he can not commit stuff to his long-term memory.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Aeveen’s eyes moved wildly through the wildness that surrounded the two groups. They seemed somehow unaware of the shadows that crawled and moved in all around them, the perfect hunting season for those of a wicked disposition. He lowered himself close to the ground, his eyes surveying the situation before him.
First his eyes looked towards the two-leggers, they seemed to be celebrating some unknown occasion to him, fire sparkling under the starlit sky that twinkled upon them as they danced and sung their songs of joy. He would never understand them, yet he never understood much of the world around him. All he had ever managed to remember were the initial lessons he had learnt from his father as a young colt, one day he had ventured against his fathers will into the forest, he could still remember the cooling water as it splashed helpless around his paws, the mud felt soft and he sunk ever so slightly into it as he drunk. A vision in white reflected ahead of him, yet as his head rose the creature was gone. The next thing he could remember was the anger sprawled upon his fathers face as he slammed him to the ground, his head slamming hard onto a log below before the light faded in a thick nothing of unconsciousness. From that day to this he was only able to recall occurrences for a short time. He had no memories, nor use for them.
Dreams of darkness.
Life so cold.
The lights flickered before him seemed painful, he wanted to destroy the source, his own pain wriggling to the surface as his few memories flooded back once more. He resented the world around him, evil lurked in many forms and through the souvenirs Aeveen had collected from his journey to try and help him remember the events of his life, he knew that he was also one of them. Paws stained in the blood of the innocent, and thoughts trembling with the desire for more. He stood to his feet, his eyes focused solely on the two-leggers, his memory completely blanking out the collection of Soquili that resided close by.
With one powerful step forward his breath became shallow; his heart began to beat with excitement. It seemed that tricks of the night were playing out before him, the older members of the two-leggers around the blazing fire as the younger members hid among the teepee's shouting the same words over and over again as they ran towards and away from each other. He would never understand them, nor did he wish to try. Attention focused entirely upon them he paused, there seemed to be one amongst them of older appearance, someone who may present a challenge to one as powerful as himself. A chuckle rolled from his mouth as his licked his lips with a tasty ambition; he was always up for a challenge.
Rolling forward his paws displaced the dirt around them with each powerful step, the spray covering his lower leg as he thundered forward. Mind set on his attack, fangs revealed, eyes glittering their sharp green colour as they glowed in the evil light of the moon, the ambiance perfect for such actions. He pounded into the camp, tail wagging, tongue licking his mouth, heart beating, he was like a child once more, freed by his own thirst and longing.
His pace slowed, as he began to circle the group of children, they stumbled and clambered together, fear wriggling upon their faces as a giddy excitement gushed towards his surface, his target stood up in a lame bravery. It was time. Leaping forward, paws held high he aimed for the creatures throat, lusting the red gushing liquid that resided within.
Spatter of red.
Curdling screams.
Aeveen stood back to admire his handy work; the limp body lay still upon the ground as the tiny two-leggers huddled around it. Not a challenge, not a challenge at all. His eyes widened, his nostrils flared as he let out a frightening howl. Lowering his head to their level he bore his teeth once more, blood dripping to the ground from each sharpened fang as he grunted. He wanted to do something for them to remember, something that would keep them away from him, grunting once more he brought his open mouth towards the closest two-legger, it seemed frozen in fear just the way he liked it. Grabbing roughly at it his teeth dug deeply into its clothes and he stood up once more, the creature dangling pathetically from his jaw. Salvia began to drip from his mouth, his mind raced with a wild excitement.
Turning his eyes caught the fire, it seemed strangely familiar yet he did not remember it, he found that happened a lot through out his life since the only thing he could remember in detail was the rage upon his fathers face, the true nature of his kind. Shifting his thoughts he pounded towards it, his paws still digging into the ground with each step, as he trembled with excitement towards it. Eyes focused wholly upon the flickering flames. The two-legger swaying wildly towards his neck as he moved. Gaining upon the flickering flames of red.
Rippling colours.
Dancing flames.
Screams streaming towards his ears as he jumped on his hind legs over the flames, they licked his belly in a soft ignorance, mid-jump he opened his mouth the small two-legger falling from his grasp towards the flames as one final thought filled his mind, now you can dance forever. His breath shallow again, as he continued to run, the wind blew around him, blowing the pelt upon his back gently with it as the paws tightened their grip around his neck.
Panting he slowed and turned leaving them with one last howl before he headed back into the forest. He ran and ran through the trees as the memories faded and drifted from his mind. Slowing his pace he settled himself upon the hill once more. Laughter reached his eyes and clasped its icy grip around his heart, he turned towards the direction he had just came a group of Soquili played happily in the nights sweet ambiance, completely unaware of the evil around them. He lowered himself close to the ground, his eyes surveying the situation before him.
The night was so young.
He felt so alive.
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Posted: Thu Oct 30, 2008 7:07 pm
The air ripples with the suspense of fall; a time when two and four-leggers alike gather to dance and sing quickly falls upon us. Families and friends of young and old gather around raging bonfires, wildly twirling about in forms that are not their own. Halloween has come again, and the anticipation flowing through the dark night is unbearable as everyone enjoys each other’s presence. All except for one. One who snarls at the thought of loosing so much control, one that takes glee in other’s foolishness. A strikingly golden skin walker steps out of the shadows. He will not be parting tonight, oh no, for tonight he stalks his prey, looking for the opportunity for the sweet blood of innocents to call to him.
Peering through the trees, Haku lets a small puff of air out as he gently snorts into the cold night’s breeze. ‘Stupid animals,’ he thinks to himself, ‘always off frolicking, completely unaware of their surroundings. Why, I could run out in a tutu and they would just think I was one of them.’ Snarling at the thought he watched the humans intently. Senses on high alert, he saw a small group of people stagger away from the large group. ‘What do we have here..?’ he quietly inquires. Zoning in on the two-leggers stumbling around he quickly flashes through his tried-and-true strategy. If only he can cut them off at the right time, he would have them. Stealthily slinking on the outskirts of the trees he hurries to get into position. A crow caws in the forest, but nothing will faze the great beast as he slips further and further into his zone of destruction.
Trotting quickly, he works himself up into a slow, violent fury. Everything around him is a blur; all that stands out is himself and his target. Moving closer and closer the smell of unbroken skin overwhelms him; the call of blood underneath drives him deeper into madness. So close now, Haku picks up his pace. The world a mad blur around him, he doesn’t see the small pit set up to trap rodents. Upon stepping into the pit he violently falls to the ground in a tangle of twigs and leaves. Recovering from the sudden startle he tries to be as still as possible, keying in once again to his surroundings.
‘Hey Janice, I think we’re being followed.’ Haku hears a man slur.
‘Oh that must be Todd, he’s so bad at trying to be scary,’ he hears a shriller voice reply, ‘how about we show him how to do it?’
Recognizing his plan faltering, Haku quickly jumps up and canters back into the forest; he will not be hunting two-leggers tonight. Cantering as quickly and as quietly as he can, he flies through the trees and cobwebs, trying to get as far away as possible. The soft thump of his paws slowly draws him out of his fury. Seconds turn into eternity as he carries on, no destination becoming apparent. The cool night’s breeze makes his pelt flutter a bit more; the bite of autumn’s breath begins to cool him off. Slowing down he wonders what he should do. All alone on a night full of festivities he continues to aimlessly wander.
Bit by bit, and so quietly at first that he thinks he must have imagined it, Haku picks up the sound of shuffling hooves. As if to confirm his suspicions, he hears the shrill whinny and excited nickers of his fellow four-leggers. ‘No way,’ he says to himself with a sly grin, ‘I wonder what has made me so lucky on such an unlucky night...’ Lurking at the edge of a moonlight field, he feasts his eyes once again on a potential pursuit. Crouching as close to the ground as he can get, he surveys his surroundings. Near him, a river bubbles through the dead leaves and carries the promise of refreshment to anyone who needs a drink. Noticing a group of teenagers hanging around it, he quickly picks his next target. ‘Brilliant,’ he broods, ‘I can trap them between the party and the river. Flawless.’ Deliberately watching his step, he slowly envelops himself in the thrill of the hunt that he is oh so familiar with. Getting into position, he decides it would be more fun to at first see the sheer terror of his prey as they set his eyes upon his terrible magnificence. Taking a brisk stride, he comes fourth from the trees and lets out a soft growl to make his presence known. Alarmingly, the teenagers fling around to face their attacker. Devilishly grinning, Haku takes slow, knowing steps towards the kids.
‘Quick guys, the river!’ one boy spits out.
‘But, Abdiel, you know I cant swim, I’m scared of water!’ a pretty female whines.
‘So what? Do it!’ the horse she referred to as Abdiel retorts back as he plunges into the river’s depth. Looking at the river and the stranger, the girl is paralysed by the decision as she watches the others scamper off. Left alone, she stares back at the strange horse. ‘Excellent, this is almost too easy.’ Haku snickers. Getting closer to the female, he stops just feet in front of her to soak in the tension and fear in the air. The waves of terror he pours out have seemed to make the mare speechless. Chuckling to himself, he prepares to make the kill.
‘You know, I’m not afraid of you.’ the mare says nervously.
His paw raised to strike, he falters. No one has ever spoken to him before; his prey is normally too terror-struck to do much of anything. Taking a second to think, he places his hoof back down.
‘Silly child, do you know whom your talking to?’ he grumbles his voice deep and rasp.
‘N-no, but I’m still not scared.’ She replies, gaining a bit more strength in her voice with every spoken word.
‘Foolish woman, you stare into the eyes of death and yet you refuse to succumb to the inevitable? Where is your sense…’ he growls back impatiently.
‘So that’s it, you’re going to kill me?’ she exclaims brashly. ‘Fine then, do it and get it over with please?’
Confused, Haku struggles to decide what to do. His whole life was designed to chase the smell of fear, to respond to the call of blood. He created terror and havoc everywhere he went; just a flash of his pelt was enough to drive anyone into a crazy panic. But here he is, in the prime position for a glorious kill, and yet there is no fear, no terror, no panic. If he can’t command the emotions of his foe, how powerful is he? In a bout of anger, he fiercely shoves the girl as hard as he can into the freezing water’s grasp. Swiftly turning away, he gallops off with every muscle in his body screaming defiance of defeat. Trying to fool himself into a false security, he pushes the thought of her calm audacity away. ‘If I hurt females, that means less prey in the future’ he tries to force himself into believing as he drifts away into to cloudy moonlight. After all, no one is allowed to compose theirselves in front of him, he is what feeds their imagination, he is what fuels their nightmares.
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Posted: Thu Oct 30, 2008 7:16 pm
Notes Name: Stemme [['Voice' in Danish.]]
Prompt: It seems to be a night of celebration for the two-leggers, but you intend on having a celebration of your own, skinwalker style! On one side, you have the villagers who are too busy celebrating to realize just how poorly they've let their guard down, and on the other, a gathering of Soquili hosting their own festival of sorts. Young and old are among both parties, and all seem to be unaware of your presence. It's obvious that a smorgasbord of opportunity lies in front of you. So... what do you do?
And up on a nearby hill overlooking the native village was this area's tiger, Stemme, ready to spring at anything that looked like a suitable meal.
A soft growl escaped from his mouth, the sound rumbling from his chest in a deep bass tone. Gah, how the two-leggers annoyed him! 'They and their.. their damned young ones!' Stemme bared his fangs at his thoughts, sending a slitted glare at a trio of native children playing with each other down near the outskirts of the village, giggling and laughing happily. That was it!.. He would go down their while the adults weren't paying attention, and then snatch away one of the annoying unfurred young ones, without a sound. A sly grin forming across his face, the Skinwalker stood up, giving himself a shake to rid of any dirt or dust that had latched their grubby little hands on him, reaching back and giving a brush of his nose against part of his pelt, smoothing it down. "My, aren't I the handsome one?" He said out loud with a soft cackle before going quiet, taking on a more serious mood as he started off down the hill at a silent gallop, his paws making no sound as he moved. Panting for a moment at his quick run, Stemme quietly slipped behind a crowding of Oak trees, eying the three children from his spot. 'Now.. Which one, which one?...' He thought with a slim smirk, his sharp teeth showing through a parting of his lips. He stood, simply observing the young ones as they played a game with each other, eventually stopping and flopping on their bums onto the ground, one of the boys laughing. A girl, the youngest looking one of the group, shook her head as she laughed along with him, pointing at the third child. The one being pointed at, a smaller boy, gave a frown and rubbed at one of his eyes with the back of his hand, looking as if.. He were crying? Those two must have done something to upset the poor boy.
'Hrm.. Those two, then.' Stemme bared his teeth as he stepped out from the trees, silently making his way behind the young girl and older boy, his form standing well over the both of theirs. The upset boy's eyes widened as he approached, bringing a hand up to his mouth and gasping. Pointing frantically at the over looming Skinwalker, he started to speak to the other two, his voice shaken. The two simply laughed at the boy, thinking of it as a joke of some sort, the girl rolling her eyes. Bringing his head down next to one of the older boy's ears, Stemme gave a heavy pant, hoping to spook him as a small little favor for the other boy.
"Stupid dog! Go awa-WAH!" The boy had thought of the predator as a simple minded dog, bringing his hand up to shove the 'dog' away, only to have his arm bitten by Stemme. Stemme grinned at the taste of blood on his tongue, giving a sharp yank upward and pulling the boy up and off the ground.
"Grawhaha!"
The pelted beast cried with a deep laugh, running off with the yelling and screaming boy up the hill and into the woods where he had came from.
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Posted: Thu Oct 30, 2008 7:20 pm
Skinwalker's Name: Avandie Temper: Insane -------------------------------------------------------
Soft paws moving swiftly through the forest. The air is filled with scents of fires, cooking foods, and...Humans. Avandie had been planning this night for months. He had heard gossip that the humans were celebrating tonight, and that horses were going to celebrate also. Avandie slowed his pace as he saw a clearing up ahead. Silently weaving through the trees he came up to the clearings edge. He saw the two-legs dancing around a fire, and turned his head to see soquili celebrating not far off. He did not care about the soquili; not tonight. He could always deal with them later, but he would not get another chance like this to get at the humans. Their celebrations were made a big deal of, and everyone was invited, even the guards of the villages. Ha, how weak and slow-minded they were to think that they could let their guard down for even a second and he would not be there.
A smell wafted towards him. He quickly held his breath, not wanting to lose himself just yet...but it was too late, he had smelled it. It being the cause for his skinwalker curse. It being, babies. Not just babies though, children and any young thing that was not "mature". He despised them; they had no place, and no right to be alive. All children were alike; loud, dirty, messy, and disrespectful little errors of nature. He felt his heart pace quicken and his blood boil. He could not hold onto his sanity much longer, so he did not try. Now was the time...the time to rid the earth of the nasty children.
He spotted a group of kids about 6 years old playing on the edge of the village. They would be his first kills. He took a deep breath; their dirty, sweaty scent filled his nose. Avandie let himself fall into the red haze of insanity. His feet moved under him, swift and silent. His jaws opened, and a fierce growl erupted from his throat. A child screamed and them fell silent. The pattern happened over and over. A high-pitched scream and then silence. Soon the red haze around Avandie's vision was not the only red seen that night.
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Posted: Thu Oct 30, 2008 7:28 pm
Prompt It seems to be a night of celebration for the two-leggers, but you intend on having a celebration of your own, skinwalker style! On one side, you have the villagers who are too busy celebrating to realize just how poorly they've let their guard down, and on the other, a gathering of Soquili hosting their own festival of sorts. Young and old are among both parties, and all seem to be unaware of your presence. It's obvious that a smorgasbord of opportunity lies in front of you. So...what do you do? -------------------------
Name: Ryu (Short for "Ryuu" which means "Kill" in Japanese)
Temper: Malicious
------------------------------
It was the night for celebrations...
Or at least that was how it was for everyone else. Ryu however had different things in mind. His green eyes scanned the horizon carefully. So there were two celebrations. One of villagers and one of Soquili. Both parties smelled so delicious he could hardly think straight. The humans would probably be the easier of the two groups, but wouldn't that be boring? His mind was set and off he went towards the unsuspecting Soquili.
As he ran a light glow started surrounding his body and instantly a flash lit up the forest around him as he was in wolf form. Odds were the Soquili had never heard of his kind. Oh what fun this would be. Within moments the forest was behind him and the Soquili were clear as day. They were apparently celebrating the birthday of the herd leader's daughter. He eyed her soft violet fur and flowly inidgo and violet mane. Ryu bet a year's worth of blood that she'd never experienced the kind of pain he would soon inflict on her. With a devilish grin he launched himself into the fro and looked around at everyone with an innocent look on his face as he got closer and closer towards the female.
He was about five feet from her when an elder screamed in fear and stared at him with wide eyes. As the elder's eyes met his so did everyone elses. So there was someone who knew. This didn't trouble him one bit. In a flash he transformed into his real for and attacked the elder. There was a satisfying crunch as his paws met her shoulder and instantly the helpless elder kneeled before him as if her were king. Her begging eyes met his before his jaws met her neck. The warm blood slowly seeped into his mouth and the adrenaline pumped through his veins as he tasted the blood. Before long he shoved her aside and looked at the other Soquili. Against all tempations he'd have to save some room for the main course.
Screams erupted from the meadow as Soquili were slaughtered by his paws. About a minute had passed and around half the gerd was gone and the other half laying around either dead or seoirusly injured. His eyes met the girl's for a second before he crossed the are between them and stared her in the eyes. She stared back terrified and with that he couldn't resist a chuckle. "Tell me now, what's your name, gorgeous?" He smirked at her. Her voice came out shakey and quiet. "S-s-s-sakura." She responded. Ryu laughed at her fear, "That's a beautiful name my dear, as you are a beautiful mare... Too bad I have to end your petty life in moments." He said with a devilish grin. That was about all she could take. With a shriek Sakura ran from him as fast as her legs could carry her. The run was futile though. No one who'd ever captivated Ryu's interest had ever lived to tell the tale. Two heartbeats had passed since she ran from Ryu and he was already upon her. The sudden weight forced Sakura to the ground and she could only stare into the eyes of her hunter, too terrified to even scream.
Ryu smiled at her though his eyes shined with lust for her blood. "It'll be over soon my dear." He said as he sank his teeth in her neck. Her bloodcurdling scream was cut short by a gurgling sound. Sakura's eyes rolled back as Ryu sucked the blood right out of her neck like an infant would suck milk from its mother. Before too long she was dead an Ryu was satisfied. He was surprised at himself though. He was done with his meal and it was still in one piece. Standing up he shook some of the blood off his pelt and walked away. What a great day. The next would hopefully be better. With twice the blood...
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Posted: Thu Oct 30, 2008 7:59 pm
Name: Wolfuu
Wolfuu stalked around in his wolf form. His light furred pelt bristled in the wind, as his green eyes eyed a possible tasty dinner over at the two leggers. Some of them looked awefully tasty… But it was the giggles and chuckles over from the horses that caught his attention. It was now, on those very few occasion that he felt that lonely feeling. The small wolf looked down at the ground as he tried to put the feelings out. Because of what he was he never fit in. He was mean and liked to eat things that most of the other horses didn’t… It wasn’t so much his fault. His and his kind had some pretty dismal living but he got by…
Though the housing of the other horses was rather… comfortable looking. As he thought before he even knew it, he had veered toward the horses as it was the most natural thing. One of them was one he had seen grow. Her auburn eyes looked over at the new coming and greeted him happily.
“Hello there little wolf! Welcome to the celebration!” She giggled at him, having no idea of what he truly was. Not that she would know the difference.
Wolfuu tilted his head a little and then padded in. In this form he was able to inner mingle with those would were almost forbidden. He watched how they were happy together; and as he prowled around he made some comparisons to the lifestyles… this one seemed so much better… in all aspects but he couldn’t very well stay a wolf forever.
As the festivities went one, Wolfuu’s acceptance among these horses had apparent. They treated him just like one of them. Some of the other animals even came and played around him. But it was in his talking to Istas that he truly realized that if he was to be accepted here… They would all have to know who an what he was… This was something that Wolfuu… just could do. He slunk away from the group, and as he reached the shadows his legs and body grew and the wolf’s pelt rested on his body… His ears twitched in the eye empty eye sockets of the pelt. He snuffed some.
On that note; he accepted who and what he was and ran off into the humans gathering, looking for his dinner… His neighed and stomped his hooves… Knocking things over and scaring them away. He turned and looked… All the horses and other animals looked at him in a looks of terror and soon enough; Wolfuu was all along again. He ripped the pig that was roasting off its stakes and dragged it off into the night; and back to the other skinwalkers.
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Posted: Thu Oct 30, 2008 8:05 pm
He stood, looking down on the twin campfires surrounded by cavorting figures - some on two legs, some on four. Ah, the choices this long-sought night would present...
They thought they were in control, didn't they? They wove little necklaces of strings and beads and boasted in their arrogance that these trinkets could snare a nightmare. He would show them what a true nightmare was like.
(Boaster, bluster, busted, a voice at the back of his mind crooned softly. Shattered pale twigs in the stormlust of power, makebreaktakeme on the cowering wings of dark. The bone splinters the iron throat's tang as they crunch and fold inward out away...
Caught the screamsmoke danced high into the air, moansdrumthrummedheavysoursweet. Beautiful.)
Beautiful, the Skinwalker thought, lips curling back in a feral snarl of ravenous delight. He could feel the intoxication that came with sensing - knowing - his own power that flooded his veins already, and reluctantly calmed it. Not time yet. He couldn't release the Beast until the last minute, or risk ruining his meticulously laid plans.
Even he most slow-witted of Kalona could make a kill, even the newest of the newly... initiated. The trick was not in killing, but in destroying, leaving them scattered and savage, their civilized defenses ripped away.
For that reason, he had nearly as much distaste for the Soquili-turned-Skinwalkers as for the Kalona. They rarely had the necessary control that came from centuries of experience; just mad bloodlust followed by periods of as much abject weakness as any normal Soquili.
And as for the inferior "normals," the rejects of a race that would be perfected in Skinwalker form...
Their wispy, dolled-up manes, their spines weak and bare without proper pelts (So easy to snap, the voice hissed. Sssso sweet the jerk and spark of last life bled away...), their ugly clunking hooves where cruel and agile paws should be - and worst of all, their fawning, wretched self-enslavement to the even weaker hairless two-legs. It was disgusting. And with those thoughts in his mind, he made his decision.
He howled, powerful lungs sending the sound spiraling into the sky to twine lusting tendrils 'round the smoke from their fires. Two-leg heads turned, Soquili ears flicking to pinpoint the noise. A colt on the edge danced a few steps nervously, then giggled to cover his embarrassment. It had been days since they last heard that sound, or seen the shadowy figure - flitting with impossible softness for the shaggy-haired Soquili it seemed to be - that kept just out of sight in the darkness. Now they were reminded of their worries, and reminded also of just what night it was.
Yes. Remember your fear...
When the hubub of conversation and music resumed from both gatherings, he slipped down the slope toward the first of the groups with businesslike efficiency. There were fewer Soquili here among their two-leg masters, but he was confident of his ability to escape detection.
A lone middle-aged guard, breath pungent with alcohol-induced haziness, stood at the ready where he chose to enter the village. Stood being the kind way to put it, as without a spear to prop himself up he would have been leaning at a dangerous angle. His eyes widened with surprising clearheadedness when the Skinwalker emerged from the shadows, though; it didn't save him.
"Wha..."
All the concentrated power of a horse's kick, combined with the cruel razors of claws many times sharper than steel, met the man's chest with a crack of crushed ribs. He fell back, wheezing and struggling for air against the pain, and the Skinwalker casually raked his throat open as he passed. Just a few, one here, one there, until they begin to realize. And then... The fun begins.
It started off disappointingly quiet; a group of men considerably less drunk than the first rushed through the village in the direction of one of his "lures." Then there was a shrill scream from the opposite side, possibly a child's. That would be the woman, the one with her mewling baby strapped to her back, he thought, his grin widening as a wailed lament broke into the shuddering silence (Always the wailcry eerie in the echoing shadows before the game, the fun, bringyourfamilies there's plenty for all!). Then all at once everything was in motion. The village is under attack! Protect the children!
The sound of galloping hooves heralded the arrival of reinforcements from the Soquili camp, their fantastical festival attire at odds with the grim looks on their faces. Meanwhile, the Skinwalker slipped back into the night heading the way they'd come, after the real night's prize. Four-legged silhouettes milled and wheeled against the backdrop of a bonfire, fear coursing in their bloodstreams like delicious ambrosia. He had been planning to wait a little longer, see how far in he could go before being recognized, but, well... Tonight was a special occasion, was it not? Tonight, the dark ruled.
At last he let his already twitching skin complete the change, bones and tendons snapping like sparks as they settled into the smooth, lithe shape of a coyote. A howl of triumph filled his mind and exploded out into the chaos of the night, and the last pretenses of calculating thought were flooded by the white-hot lust that was part and parcel of his second form. RageterrorcruelsnapjawclawmawthebeastisnearheresearyoureyesdrippingacidbloodBURNINGgushingswiftandfastcatchmeifyoudare...
On and on, a violent crescendo more perfect than the roar of a thousand storms, more delicious than the hot liquid that spattered against his flanks. It was Beast.
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He stood, looking down on the twin campfires, which seemed to have spread and mutated in places to gobble up every teepee and structure in reach before settling down again. The last scream had faded just moments ago - or rather, was cut off, the shrill squeal of a Soquili in agony silenced by the "merciful" knife - and its acrid aftertaste on the air was still cruel and sharp even here. Or perhaps it was only the blood, and the scorched scent of burning hair...
The rising sun behind him made his golden pelt seem to burn, bright and clear as an avenging angel. For a few heartbeats more he stood there, a faint, laconic smile playing across his muzzle; then the Skinwalker turned and loped off through the wilderness.
That's all you had? That's all your boasting and bluster came to at the last?
Pity.
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Posted: Thu Oct 30, 2008 8:27 pm
It seems to be a night of celebration for the two-leggers, but you intend on having a celebration of your own, skinwalker style! On one side, you have the villagers who are too busy celebrating to realize just how poorly they've let their guard down, and on the other, a gathering of Soquili hosting their own festival of sorts. Young and old are among both parties, and all seem to be unaware of your presence. It's obvious that a smorgasbord of opportunity lies in front of you. So...what do you do?
Skinwaker’s name: Orpheus (Means darkness in Greek Mythology)
Temper: Delirious & Maniacal
Striped ears swiveled as emerald green eyes gazed across the scenery in front of the skinwalker. Orpheus thought maniacally about the options before him. Two choices… Either way they have let their guard down… His lips curled into an evil grin. No matter which he chose, he was going to be enjoying this night. His eyes sparkled maliciously as both parties carried on with their festivities. There the pale gold Skinwalker stood. A safe distance from the crowds. Just enough for him to be able to run and still watch them. Under the cover of darkness, he seemed to glow in a strangely sadistic way. The wood and leaves smelled strongly of pine. Stronger than that smell was the overwhelming scent of blood. Hot, liquid, blood. He smelled it as the red liquid pulses through their veins. It taunted him.
His name never fit him better than now. Orpheus’ heart was slowly but surely being consumed by darkness. He licked his lips and attempted to assess his choices. He had troubles focusing with such a strong, fresh scent of blood flooding through his sense. As his head pounded with his desires, he was figuring out where to go. A meal is a meal and… he was extra hungry. If only there were two of him. Setting his mind on a certain festival to crash, he snaked through the woods. He drew closer and closer to his food and was almost pulled by the blood alone. Slinking near the lights and music, along with other miscellaneous games and noises, Orpheus wrinkled his nose and flattened his ears. The extra smells were of horrible scents and the noises were extremely painful to his sensitive ears. One more reason for him to hate Halloween.
His green eyes glowed under the pitch black covering from the canopy. Careful emeralds watched the participants dance around with joy. Each one had a smile pasted onto their face. Some seemed unnatural. Adorned with decorations, and costumes, the humans chatted among themselves. It’s quite irresponsible to let one’s guard down so much… He smirked deviously and stamp a hoof against the ground. They still remained quiet. He reared into the air and shot down with an astonishing sound. To accompany his hooves, he let out an ear-splitting whinny. That got their attention.
All the humans turned with screams and gasps at the loud yet painful noises. Horror-struck faces he expected to stare in fear at him, didn’t even notice him. Hadn’t he just made his arrival known? They all pivoted to stare at another creature hiding in another section of forest. He bared his fangs angrily and snarled. This was HIS party to crash. Not someone else’s! Anger seethed in him as he dug his claws into the ground and crouched down. Another Skinwalker had found this party too it seemed…
Ready for an onslaught, Orpheus snarled inside as he let the anger coarse through his body. He had never shared anything in his whole life. And he wasn’t about to start now. Readying himself to attack the intruder who had ruined a perfectly good meal, he started running towards the Skinwalker and the crowd near him. He grinned darkly and jump to hit the stallion with his hoof. He missed the male as if it was just a hologram or a pretend image. Maybe he was losing it. He shook his head and looked, but the Skinwalker remained. He breathed out and the air came out his flaring nostrils. He turned to charge again.
Orpheus once more went through the male like mist. He was so confused and angry. The rage made his body tremble. He prepared for the final fatal blow and jumped, taking full charge, hooves first. As he was in the air, the whole scene swirled around him. He was pulled downwards into the black hole that was behind him.
The whole scene had instantly frozen. The people horror-struck, the Skinwalker Stallion grinning triumphantly at Orpheus. His head throbbed in pain as he dizzily watched the whole thing flash before him. His eyes fluttered and then were soon closed. He was out.
Hours passed, and Orpheus felt his pelt slide across him. Once he came to his senses, he tasted something odd. Feeling around in his mouth with his tongue, he realized it was blood he tasted. Hot, fresh blood. It dripped out of of his mouth, running down his mouth. It dripped on the ground and collected in a puddle. He had been laying down and hadn’t opened his eyes yet. It was dark out yet something was off. The Skinwalker… I got him… He smirked and opened his eyes, only to dsicover that he hadn’t killed the stallion he hoped he had. Instead lay an elk, dead on the ground and blood and meat showing. He felt… weak. Anger flowed through him once more. He shot to his feet, but wobbled and collapsed. That Skinwalker… The festivities. They weren’t real..? He looked ahead, and saw two crowds. One humans, and the other weak horses.
He was just there! He just lived that! Or… did he?
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Posted: Thu Oct 30, 2008 8:50 pm
Desired Name:Tuiloch
Joyous laughter and endless music burned the beast's ears. Just the thought of happiness made his stomach turn. Humans. He spat the name as it left a terrible after taste in his mouth. Good for nothing humans. I will never understand why they are so happy all the time. Nor will I understand their meaning for a celebration. But one thing is for sure, they do taste delisous. The stripped beast could not salivate at the thought of human flesh. Snorting gently, he raised his cranium sharply towards the silver moon that hung over his head, the shine filled the once darken sky with a bright light that traveled for miles. Pale emerald orbs twinkled mischievously as he whispered to the moon. "Tonight these humans will have no idea what will hit them. I will taste their bitter sweet blood as their bones crush in between my fangs. Their scrams will only make my heart race and want more. No one will survive. Tonight, I will taste both human and horse and have my fill. For tonight, I will feast. Tonight, all hell will break loose. You, my dear, will shine your light even brighter then it is now and guide me. Together, we will both laugh at the misery, torture, and death we will bring. Be patient dear. We shall strike when the time is right. Rest now. I will tell you when we are ready." The beast turned his head away towards the moon and looked back towards the village. Soon. He thought as mighty paws hit the Earth with a powerful shack while muscles rippled with every silent movement he took. Very soon.
There was something wrong. But what exactly? It was hard to say. Tonight was a joyous night, a night in which the tribe celebrated the rise of the silver moon, a celebration in which the tribe waited anxiously for. This year however, kept from the girl from enjoying sure a celebration. There was something terrible in the air and she just couldn't shake what it was. Gentle Breeze sat quietly in her tepee, isolated from the fun and excitement that happened on outside. She listened to the beat of the music, her heart racing anxiously. What is going on? She thought to herself as she heaved a sigh. Something isn't right. I can feel it. Her mind was swarmed with thoughts and questions as to what she was feeling but not even the elders could truly explain what was going on. Her thoughts were interrupted as woman's voice broke her free.
"Gentle Breeze, why is it that your in your tepee when a celebration is going on?" The woman asked with worried eyes.
The girl blinked slowly before turned around to meet eye to eye with the woman who peeked in through the tepee's open door. If she explained to this woman what was bothering her, surely she would think she was nuts.
"Oh, it's nothing," Gentle Breeze said with a lie. "I'm just in her thinking, that's all."
With a cocked brow, the woman could sense the child's falseness in her voice and gave a serious, even more worried look. "Come child, tell me what you are thinking about. I can tell something is wrong," the woman answered back.
"You see," Gentle Breeze began. "There is something horrible beyond the village. I can sense it. This strange feeling is over powering me and it get worse with each and every minute of the celebration. Something terrible is going to happen," she said but stopped for a brief moment. "You have to believe me. What exactly could will happen...that I am unsure of and I fear for what will become," she added and sighed softly.
The music grew louder outside as Gentle Breeze spoke with the older woman. The flames crackled and danced to the beat of the drums. The village elders spoke of stories of the wicked skinwalkers and kalonas to the children and dressed the part as they portrayed parts of the story. The drums beat faster and faster as the story had gotten more intense while wide eyed children with antsy movements shifted back and forth in their seats, waiting to hear more. The drums stopped suddenly with a large bang, leaving the children to ponder.
Now.
"Ah I see," the woman said as she rubbed Gentle Breeze's back as to comfort her. "I'm sure whatever it is, it's just your imagination," she added with a reassuring smile. "It's nothing to worry about. Now, come child and let's continue on with the festivities," the woman added as she moved her way out of the tent.
Gentle Breeze doubted the woman's words and she knew she was wrong. Fine don't believe me, her mind shouted. But don't come crawling to me when something happens, saying I was right and you were wrong. "Hm, I suppose your right," Gentle Breeze answered with a shrug. Slowly she moved towards the tepee door but a noise outside made her stomach turn. A ear piercing scream reached both females ears and they both froze. This was no ordinary scream of celebration. No. It was one of pure horror.
Peeking their heads from the tepee, both their eyes trembled with horror. A powerful, vial beast attacked the village. The bodies of the fallen Soquili of the village lied limp upon their own blood that stained the ground. Their wounds proved to be fatal and even in death, their glossy orbs held fear. The beast's mouth stained with equine blood as it moved quickly from one pray to another, striking swiftly and killing the village people with one fatal swipe. What..what's going on. Why is this happening? Gentle Breeze watched as the woman moved out of the tepee and gathered the children as quickly as possible.
Fool. Both beast and girl both seemed to have thought the same thing. Tuiloch made his way from one tepee to the next, slaughtering all that came in his path. The ground was stained with pools of crimson. The beast's heart raced as the smell of blood reached his nares. The powerful beast struck at the woman who had left Gentle Breeze for the children. She squirmed in his mouth as his powerful jaws slowly crushed her bones, cracking loudly. Her ear shattering scream was last to be heard as her hot blood flowed down the beast's mouth and splatted over the place. With a vicious shack of his head, the beast released his grip on the lifeless body, throwing it aside like a rag doll.
The bravest of warriors released their arrows as they aiming at the beast, but the arrow's head failed to perice the might beast. The side of his lips tugged back slowly as blood stained fangs were bared and a feral snarl was released from his deep throat. He charged at the warriors and crushed them under his paws.
The battle proved to be endless and Gentle Breeze watched with horror. Men, women and child were being slaughtered right before her eyes and soon enough, she was the last one standing. Emerging from her tepee, her fallen father's might bow and arrow in her hand, she was to come face to face with the beast and end his slaughtering once more.
"Vial beast," she shouted at the skinwalker. "You have slain my village and all of it's people but now it shall be you who will be killed. And I will be the one to do it," she said.
Turning his head sharply away from his meal and towards the girl, crimson rubies dripped from his mouth as his lips were pulled back into a grin. Ah is that so? He said with a laugh. Your brave but you stand not a chance against me. His jaws parted as a scream emerged from his throat. As though that was the signal, the girl raised her bow and shot her arrow as the mighty beast came charging her way.
The moon's once bright light had now dimmed down as it shone over the stripped beast and the night's kill was now over. Blood dripped from open wounds and he walked with a slight limp. Bloody paw prints trailed behind him as he left the village, his stomach to it's fullest with the night's meal. He stopped and glanced towards the moon, a cynical smile was given towards her. My dear, tonight proved to be quite a night. But I must admit, it seemed not so much of a challenge. Yes, that girl did fight me but poor fool. She had never a chance of winning aganist a skinwalker. The skinwalker laughed along with the moon as he walked away, disappering into the night's mist.
Foolish humans. They will never learn.
What a shame.
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Posted: Thu Oct 30, 2008 9:27 pm
It seems to be a night of celebration for the two-leggers, but you intend on having a celebration of your own, skinwalker style! On one side, you have the villagers who are too busy celebrating to realize just how poorly they've let their guard down, and on the other, a gathering of Soquili hosting their own festival of sorts. Young and old are among both parties, and all seem to be unaware of your presence. It's obvious that a smorgasbord of opportunity lies in front of you. So...what do you do?
Name: Overu
Temper: Sadistic
Tiger striped ears flicked forward and then backward once again. On one hand the humans were completely unaware of Overu’s attendance and it was a well known fact that they were the easiest creatures to kill. Craning his neck to the rear of his body he looked upon the gathering of the Soquili that was taking place just across the river.
“What to choose, what to choose?” He chanted in a whisper.
His clawed feet pawed impatiently at the dirt resting beneath him. Blood was on his mind and the only thing keeping him from the feast was a simple decision. Turning his emerald hued eyes again upon the humans a nasty grin parted his nimble lips. He watched intently as a young girl danced around a fire pit with a large grin upon her face. Her mother was watching her happily while her father danced beside her. It was far too simple, he had the agility and the stealth that was gifted to the Skinwalkers and it would be easy enough for him to sneak up beside her and steal her away from those she loved. In his mind he envisioned the sharp canines that he possessed sinking in to the warm flesh of her throat and ripping her jugular from its resting place. Shivers were sent up and down his spine as he imagined the mother’s screams of anguish and her father’s dismayed expression. The suspense was killing him; the metallic tang of blood already coated the back of his throat. Crouching down close to the ground he locked his sights on that one tan little Indian girl that danced around so proudly. Though he wished that he could kill her in a slower and more painful manner he knew that he wouldn’t have much time to complete the deed. Extracting his claws he readied himself for the strike. The fire became hypnotic, a blaze that told him to be wild and fierce much like itself.
With the silent whoosh of the bushes as he passed through them he found himself in the midst of the camp. Screams erupted immediately following his entrance, people began scattering and running everywhere, warriors picked up their spears and approached him with the whites of their eyes showing with fear. A growl rumbled deep within his chest as he fixed his gaze upon the puny two-leggeds. Rearing up on his two back paws he charged forward, claws slashing as he ran at the warrior in the middle. The man’s scream of pain was music to Overu’s sensitive ears. Blood coated his foot as he caught the human’s chest and dug deeply in an attempt to reach the quickly beating heart. The other men had halted where they stood and were paralyzed with fear as well as surprise. With a smirk over his powerful shoulder he took off in the direction in which he had witnessed his main target. He was again diverted when an old woman wielding white stage blocked his passage. Halting he pranced anxiously back and forth glaring at the elder.
“Impertinent fool!” He grumbled.
She honestly thought that a bit of a plant would keep him from fulfilling his main purpose in life. She held the herb above her head within her shaky hands and stared at him through eyes full of cataracts. After a moments hesitation to lure her into a sense of false security he lurched forward and knocked her on her back. The sage went flying from her crevassed hands and she looked up at him blindly. How sweet this was!! Digging his claws into the soft flesh of her shoulders he brought his face down close to her’s so that she may feel his hot breath on her cheeks. With a slow movement he brought one hind foot after the other down onto her knees. The sound of her bones crunching was absolutely seductive. Her screams were rough and very loud, just another part of the killings that he loved so much. Removing one of his front paws from her shoulder he brought it down slowly but heavily down upon the center of her chest. The sternum collapsed along with the ribs. A burbling sound emanated from her throat as the blood from her heart was forced up her esophagus. He watched intently as the light left her eyes and the last painful breath slipped through her pale lips. Her once silver hair had now become braids of crimson. Stepping away from the corpse as though it were a mere toy that had been broken he walked through the mass of teepees in search of his true victim. This truly was a celebration fit for royalty; he would be able to return home with a tale to tell to the others. His orange and cream colored paws were now painted red, the stripes could hardly be seen beneath all of the blood. He felt as though he were floating. The ground didn’t even seem to be beneath his feet as he approached the fire pit where the girl had once danced. Though she was no longer there he could smell where she had gone. With a snort and a shake of his regal head he followed his nose until he reached a small clearing. The animal pelt draped over his back provided the perfect form of camouflage. Stalking silently through the tall dried out brush he scanned the surroundings for anything that may lay hidden within the weeds. Coming to a stop he allowed the lids to droop over his eyes so that he may better put to use his other senses. His head flicked quickly to the right as the sound of a startled breath reached his ears. Taking the pose of a predator he went in the direction from which he had heard the noise. As if they were quail being flushed by a hunter the family jumped up and began running across the plain.
“Perfect!” He roared.
The girl was being dragged by her mother but they were foolish to think that they could ever outrun a Skinwalker. After giving them a bit of a head start he straightened up and sprung forth in a quick canter. Soon his strides lengthened and he took to loping gracefully after them. His paws were noiseless each time they touched the earth so that they did not betray his presence to the fearful humans. The breeze stirring the night wafted her smell straight back into his flared nostrils pushing him to move faster. With one final leap he had her pinned to the ground laying upon her stomach. Her mother screamed and came running at him but he quickly raised one of his claws and caught her in the face. She fell to the ground crying about the eyes that he had just destroyed. The father came at him from behind and he easily used the power of his hind leg to send him across the field. Turning again he looked at his catch, tears streamed down her terror stricken face as she looked up at the monster that tied her to the earth, she tried squirming this way and that to upset his balance but to no avail. A new gleam shown in his eyes as he put pressure on the creased part of her outstretched arms, again the music of shattering bones caused his senses to tingle. A high pitched yowl leapt from between her plump lips. This drove him further, throwing his lust for blood into a frenzy. Using the same trick he used on the old woman he shattered her knee caps. This time, rather than crushing her chest he leapt away from her. His cruel gaze was fixed on her as she tried using her broken arms and legs to free herself from her tormenter. His mouth twisted into a merciless line and his eyes narrowed with pleasure. Shadows were cast upon his face in the moonlight causing him to look all the more malicious. Each movement she made sent waves of pain rushing through her petite body. Her expressions ranged from fear to anguish to despondency. Finally, her struggle ended and she lay on her back looking up at the stars through wet eyes. Growing bored with the scene he loomed over her, blocking her view of the sky. Her mouth formed pleading words, she didn’t yet want to die and that just made this all the more delightful for him. He chuckled when his eyes came to rest on a talisman designed to keep her safe. Bringing his head down he grabbed the necklace and yanked it away only to toss it into the bushes.
“The element of fun has come to an end little one. Farewell.”
Digging his teeth gradually into the flesh of her gullet he savored the taste of the blood gushing into his maw. After a moment he lifted his head swiftly and tore her jugular away from her now lifeless body. He was not finished yet though, he still had the mother and the father to deal with. Using his sharpened claws he tore into the chest cavity of the daughter. Using his teeth he ripped her heart from her body. An arterial spray of about six feet painted splotches on his tan coat. Approaching the mother he plopped the organ down in her lap and turned coldly away. Though her eyes could no longer see her hands could feel and her mind could make assumptions. The night was filled with her howls of bereavement. Heading back to the spot from which had first emerged he watched as the humans cleaned up the bodies and attempted to fix up whatever was destroyed. It was indeed a wonderful night for a celebration, the human’s had chosen wisely. Turning his eyes skyward he could have sworn that the moon was painted red in his honor.
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Posted: Thu Oct 30, 2008 10:43 pm
The high-spirited sounds of laughter, song and dance were carried to his ears on the wind, in much the same way the current carries a leaf down river. Sin's ears swiveled in the direction of the noise and he started towards it without so much as a second thought. There was no doubt about what they meant and no uncertainty about where his instincts would lead him. He was in the mood for a little fun; a bit of an adventure. Blood and adrenaline rushed through his veins at top speed as the volume and intensity of the racket increased. He was getting closer.
Sin stopped at the edge of the wood, and glared through the darkness at the lights of the small, but impressively energetic village. It was late. The sun had retired hours ago and the moon, which was full tonight, had returned to rule over the night. It hung brilliant and proud above all their heads, nestled comfortably within a blanket of constellations that glowed with a kind of magical luminosity. The Skinwalker, however, cared nothing for the heavenly bodies that dazzled overhead. All of his instincts were focused on the festivities that surrounded him. His senses were overwhelmed. He desired nothing more than to let himself go; to give in to that nearly insatiable (and wonderfully familiar) yearning to bite, cut, tear and destroy. Fortunately for him, and the party-goers, Sin was not a stupid boy. He knew better than to storm into the center of the celebrations. Havoc required stealth and ingenuity to be unleashed successfully. It would be wiser to take his time; to absorb his surroundings and let the chaos unfold as patience and determination saw fit.
From where he stood, he could see now that the two-leggeds were not the only ones with their hearts set on celebrating the beautiful night. A band of Soquili had collected nearby and looked to be putting on their own version of the merrymaking. They pranced and played amongst each other and even danced, in whatever ways that they knew how. Sin watched them with a strange sense of superiority, that was not entirely heart-felt nor misplaced. He was conflicted. At his core, he knew that he was better than all of them and, yet, he had never danced before.
The way they moved was intoxicating. Envy wrapped its freezing, gnarly fingers around his soul and gave it a purposeful squeeze. His eyes flashed lethally as he watched the Soquili, especially the ladies, sway and roll with the music created by the two-leggers. The beat set him on edge and a brand new surge of adrenaline and excitement coursed like wildfire through his blood. Sin longed to dance. So, dance he would. There was nobody around to stop him and, anyways, it wasn't as though he would have listened if there had been. it was more likely that he'd kill them for trying to get in his way. Sin was his own man. He answered to no one.
If his little experiment was going to be a success, Sin knew that he would have to keep it simple. It was crucial for him to blend in. The moment the others caught wind of him and what he was up to, it would be the end. There would be no dancing for him, and that was something Sin couldn't bear to endure. Now that he'd seen it, he wanted to try it. The only question was 'how?' The Skinwalker took a couple of careful, calculative steps from beneath the shelter of the trees and started towards the celebrating Soquili. One of them looked straight at him. Sin sucked in air through his teeth and responded quickly by dipping his head towards the earth, so that he might appear to be enjoying a midnight snack. He waited patiently for anything to happen and then heaved a short sigh of relief when the other male failed to raise an alarm. Either his approach had gone unnoticed, or he hadn't seemed threatening. He wanted to believe that it was the former, as the possible reality of the latter was a substantial blow to his ego. Sin, however, prized logic above all other things and he knew, in his heart, that there was no way the other male couldn't have seen him. The light that radiated from the moon that night made it impossible. Even one of the two-leggers could have seen for miles. Oh, well, he shrugged and derailed that particular train of thought with a decisive snort. His goal was too look as welcoming as possible. It was good that an ominous dark cloud didn't follow him tonight. They would trust him more this way.
Sin couldn't suppress the delight he felt when he realized how close he actually was to achieving the goal of his petty game. Any moment he'd be amongst them and raving like no Skinwalker ever had before. His pale green eyes glinted with a formidable level of intelligence as he eased his way into the crowd of graceful hooves and tantalizing tails. To his surprise and immense displeasure, the dancing bit was more difficult than he'd imagined it would be. For some reason, no matter what he did or how he moved, Sin was sure that he never looked quite like the other males that floated by. They made it look so simple. As the movements and gestures grew more and more alien to him, Sin's frustration and anger doubled. Instantly, he hated them all.
A plain female, whom he hadn't noticed before, laughed openly at his awkwardness. Sin thought too much of himself to be embarrassed. She had, however, thoroughly managed to annoy him. He rolled his eyes and turned his back on her.
"Hey," her voice was sickly sweet as she nudged his shoulder with her', "I didn't mean to offend you. I'm sorry, truly."
Sin snorted, but otherwise ignored her. He wasn't interested in conversation.
"You've never danced before, have you?" she pressed him further, blue eyes kind. Sin scowled at her.
Still, she urged him to speak; "I will help you?" It was more of a question than a demand.
The Skinwalker hesitated a moment before answering her. His enthusiasm for dancing had waned the moment he'd realized his lack of ability. It'd been absorbing before, when he hadn't given it a try yet. Sin was always up for something new; always up for a game, but he rarely coveted a challenge. He didn't like to work for things. He liked to win. He liked to be best. Anything that he wasn't good at was a waste of his time, as far as he was concerned. Of course, Sin could always appreciate something that he excelled at. At the top of this (not so astonishingly short) list was murder. The formidable sounds of flesh tearing between his teeth and the taste of raw blood, still hot and straight from the quivering carcass, were ecstasy incarnate. Most of the time, there wasn't anything he'd rather be doing. It was innate. It was natural. It was easy. It occurred to him suddenly, with a bit of force, that killing was, in its self, like a type of dance.
The strange female still stood beside him, with that same unwavering smile on her friendly face. Sin returned it breezily, and his tone was dangerously chipper when he finally replied;
"Yes, let us dance."
This newfound revelation had struck a chord deep within his soul. He didn't need this lady to teach him anything. It was he, who would show her.
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Posted: Thu Oct 30, 2008 10:53 pm
The skinwalker stepped lightly through the forest around the village, quickly passing in and out of the shadows.
"Plenty of prey," he whispered. "More than enough." Even as he whispered it, he knew that wasn’t true. It was never enough. He was patient and more than willing to wait for the right opportunity to kill, but no matter how often or how many, it was never enough. He killed for food, but whenever he was finished and his belly full, he still wanted more. The blood, the smell and taste of fear, the feeling of ripping flesh apart..."Hphm," he snorted. It wasn’t time to get drunk off the idea...yet.
The two-leggers were having quite the time in the village, he could see. And the Soquili seemed to be having fun on their own as well.
Deciding which to bother first was easy, however. There was a small group of two-legger youth who must have decided they could have more fun near the woods.
“Lucky,” he whispered. The monster believed in luck, and having a group of two-leggers waiting just for him certainly was lucky.
He edged closer to the group, taking care to notice everything he could. There were five of them, and they were all dressed in strange costumes. One of them, a male, had on face paint to resemble a demon or monster. He even had wooden "horns" tied to his head.
"He wants to be a demon, a monster?" the skinwalker mused, "Ha."
He clung to the shadows as he edged closer to the group. Soon, he would have to rush them, because with his light coat he could only sneak so close before he would be seen. Not that it mattered. Rushing them was much more fun anyway.
With a leap, he left the shadows. Two strides later he was within their circle, and half a breath later he had the demon painted one under his paw. With a grin and a snarl he aimed his fangs at the boy’s throat.
Moments later, the five two-legger youth lay dead, all within a few skinwalker strides of each other. Three of them had tried to run. The first two had never had the chance. However, one of them did have enough time and brains to let out a scream.
The skinwalker was watching in the direction of the village, waiting for the two-leggers to come and investigate. Depending on how many were going to come, he would either kill more or flee. However, it seemed no one was coming, perhaps the scream went unnoticed.
"Lucky night, tonight," he whispered to the wind. The skinwalker didn't know what kind of festival they were having, but it seemed like a good one to him--any that would keep their attention and allow him to do as he pleases is a good one.
He turned to the nearest body, savoring the scent of fear and blood filling his nostrils again. "Meal time."
He would stay nearby for the night, circling the village. With any added luck, he would be able to pick off quite a few of these tasty creatures before dawn, and before the village realizes they are missing anyone.
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Posted: Thu Oct 30, 2008 10:56 pm
Name: Azubah
"Hush. . . . Hush." His voice was deep, almost sensual, as the young mare before him shuddered and shook. He had easily overpowered what looked to be an overgrown filly; it had been easy to lure the mare away from the protection of her herd, easy to cast a feral smile and wink. She had been young and uncertain, not quite 'one of them' who could so easily socialize, one who had dallied over her decision to join the celebration. Such indecisiveness had been a fatal mistake that left her dead at the paws of a monster.
Teeth sunk deep in her throat, nails digging in to her sides to keep her thrashing body still, it only was a matter of minutes before she stilled completely. Not many would miss her quiet charm and naivetee and Azubah himself would soon forget her face. Glazed over blue eyes would soon be replaced by gold, violet, green and red orbs all of which would soon be nothing more than a fine steak for lurking maggots.
Azubah truly could be called a harbinger of death. Where he walked death would follow, guaranteed. And tonight was no different for the male.
Releasing the mare from his grip, certain she wouldn't rise, her corpse was quickly forgotten. The taste of blood had piqued a need to kill again, to rid the world of those he so despised. Oh, there was nothing Azubah loved, not even the art of death. He hated to live, hated to rise, hated to be reminded of the petty and foolish lives of others, hated to be reminded of his own foolish life. Hatred was the only emotion he could comprehend and it was that hate which drove him to destroy. Let others try to harm him, often he thought of death upon himself and yet he found no worthy rival; those that tried failed and though frequently wounded and injured, life seemed to mock his mortality. Everyday he witnessed the loathing sight of the world. . of life. . .of generic living and everyday he made sure something was killed.
Someday he'd die. . . or run out of things to kill. Whichever day came first would be perhaps the only time he'd understand the idea of peace.
Azubah's ears pricked as he stepped over the mare, paws stained with blood. Removing himself from where she lie, having lured her off course of the main trail and further in to the surrounding foliage, the stallion contemplated his next move. There were foals a plenty romping around the soquili celebration, and such easy prey was hard to withstand; at the same rate it would indeed be quite the challange for him to take on an entire herd as many stallions would play 'warrior' for their mates and mares. . . .
Fools.
Then again, there was a tribe of villagers chanting, singing and otherwise enjoying the end of autumn. They would be easy prey even with their warriors standing guard; two-leggers were inventive and imaginative, yes, but dumb. . .very dumb. Their sense weren't honed like his and they had to rely on such imagination to defend themselves. Tools, they called it. . .tools they created because they were too weak to kill one like him on their own. They had no claws, no talons, no spells, no sense of smell. . . .
And it was the latter that saved the soquili herd this eve. The blood that soaked his body would be easily recognized even if he approached downwind. They had instincts and an understanding that wasn't blocked out by celebration; they would know and grow shifty while the humans would not. They wouldn't smell the blood on him until it was by far too late.
It was such weakness that would cause them to fall this night. With luck, when the morning rose, and they walked around wondering 'why'. . . perhaps they would understand. Their arrogance outshone their animal potential; their confidence in weaponry blocked out their actual weakness. . .
They would die because they deserved it. The human animal wasn't fit; take away their weapons and they were nothing but flesh and bone. . . take away their tools and they would beg like the dogs they kicked. Azubah would make them whimper, but mercy wasn't an emotion the stallion understood nor recognized.
Death was knocking on the villagers gate and it was with songs to the spirits and the moon that they allowed it to enter.
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Posted: Thu Oct 30, 2008 11:49 pm
Prompt It seems to be a night of celebration for the two-leggers, but you intend on having a celebration of your own, skinwalker style! On one side, you have the villagers who are too busy celebrating to realize just how poorly they've let their guard down, and on the other, a gathering of Soquili hosting their own festival of sorts. Young and old are among both parties, and all seem to be unaware of your presence. It's obvious that a smorgasbord of opportunity lies in front of you. So...what do you do? Standing in the shadows he watched as the villagers celebrated to caught up in the night to worry about the things that haunt it. Looking around he snorted in disdain. Soquili to the left, two-leggers to the right. ‘They’re making it easy, the fools,’ he thought to himself looking back to the two-leggers. Sudden movement from the direction of the Soquili caused him to turn his head towards them. A young foal had wandered away from the rest of the group. ‘Tempting,’ he thought watching the foal. A shout from a two-legger brought his attention back to them. “Tonight’s your lucky night little one,” he whispered darkly. He started to slowly creep towards the gathering of two-leggers. ‘Time to have my own celebration,’ he thought with a feral grin.
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