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 Posted: Sun Mar 29, 2009 5:28 pm
Every Light Casts a Shadow...
SW's name: Nixe Wiki Says: The Nix/Nixe (German) refer to shapeshifting water spirits who usually appear in human** form.
** For the purpases of Soquili, "human" will be synonymous with Horse.
SW's Temper: Psychotic
SW's Breed: Bäckahästen
Prompt Response: [Edit: Word Count: 991]
A crystalline horn flared brilliant blue, the surface actually sizzling as a blood-red powder hit both it, and the mare's face. A sinister cackle came from a peculiarly dressed two-legger, but that was completely overridden and drowned out by the shriek of pain that came from the Unicorn mare as she reared up, lashing out with her hooves in attempt to batter back the little man while thrashing her head from side to side.
Her vision became a red haze quickly, the burning sensation feeling as though her eyes and flesh were being eaten away by a strong acid.
The man bounded away - more sprightly than someone his age should have been - with a trailing cackle. Nixe threw herself forwards in attempt to find him by trailing the sounds he made. However, the unfortunate mare had never once been blinded, or tried to move with her eyes closed and using only her ears for guidance, and she crashed headlong into a thick tree trunk of a rowan tree after stumbling over one of its protruding roots.
She let out a squeal of - bloodthirrsty - rage, though she wasn't aware of it at the time. Lunging to her feet, achingly sore and still assailed by pain, she shrieked again, in defiance, and raced ahead, the echos of the man's laugh still ringing in her ears, even though he'd long gone. She was delusional, and after bumping and crashing through the small thicket of trees, burst out on the other side.
Skidding to a stop and shaking her head hard, she dropped to her knees to scrape and rub her face into the grass, attempting to rub away whatever it was that coated her face and crept over her body. Dropping further, she rolled, heaving her body against the grass while she was assailed by flashes of memory. Her parents, nonexistant. Siblings, none so far as she knew. She was alone. She didn't understand why. The "purebreds" who scorned her for her existance...looked down upon her like she was some hideous mutant. Scorned her. She couldn't bear the ignorance that flapped from those haughty...filthy little blaggarts' jaws! She resented them, yes. They'd pay! He promised! And if they didn't, she would hunt him down and dance in the shower of his blood!
She squealed again, thrashing violently against the ground, rubbing her face against the green, sweet - disgusting! - smelling earth and grass. With another heaving, jerky motion, she flailed to her feet, panting hard. Until she chocked on the vapours of that vile dust caught in her throat. Caught in the throes of pain, blinded by the burn of her eyes, she thought it couldn't get much worse. Until her horn flared bright and a crippling pain brought her to meet the ground again where she writhed as her bones snapped, broken, only to shift...and begin to reknit themselves. An agonizing wail was forced from her mouth, and with strength borne of desperation, she lurched to her hooves and flung herself forwards, ears trained on the gurgling and babbling of the river, normally so quite, but seeming like a loud roar in her ears.
Jumping into the nearly placid river, hoping to cool the raging pain of rekniting bones, she ducked her head beneath the water's surface after heaving a breath, flailing her legs against the sand to drive her agonized body further into the water. Water that did only relieve her pain marginally. Her memories were hazy. Had she loved someone? Love! Useless! Or was it? Wasn't it warm? Something she'd always longed for?
Each time her thoughts shifted, her horn would dim or glow brighter accordingly as it fought a losing battle against this curse. This new...self. The evil within that was brought, raging and snarling, to the surface. Her horn, the symbol of her former pure self, was failing against the dark grip of the corpse powder. And then it was gone. The pain, the agony, the memories, and something took its place as she pawed to the surface. Bloodlust. Thirst. A driving hunger and need to maim, kill, and torture. She pulled back her lips, mildly surprised to find fangs there, but that didn't stop her feral grin. She found she was at-ease in the water, and flicked her ears as she paddled towards the bank.
Dragging herself from the water for a few minutes, she lashed her wet tail back and forth...and stopped. She didn't have that much control over her tail before. And the earth...was different beneath her feet. Sensory things were easily remembered. And it was unfamiliar. One glance down told her the truth, and she let out - surprisingly enough - a content purr, feeling the power in her new form's muscles. Oh yes...great power.
She scented the wind that blew into her face, standing with her green eyes glinting in the night. Smells she hadn't paid attention to before that now spoke of fun and sustenance, for the pain she had just went through her been excruciating and to build strength, she would need food. Blood. Their blood. Little did she knew that each time she shifted, that meddlesome horn would cause her such pain. But pain would become part of her life. Hers, and she would be certain to fill theirs with it...and delight in the hot blood that would rush from wounds she inflicted.
If she wasn't caught in an odd state of confusion; the line between good and evil would always be two very slender grey lines...and in her 'normal' form she would be plagued by them...
The sounds and faint glow of fire in the sky made her yowl in sinister glee and slink back to the water, into the dark, concealing chill of it.
And when she emerged, if any survivors remained...she would be remembered.
Always with fear.
Always with a glance to the lake and rivers surrounding them.
"It came from the water!"
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Ending Notes: Nixe's personal battle between good and evil will be brought forth into RP, should I win her. It's an integral part of her character, but as seen here [and in the rules]...evil will definitely triumph at some point. Being only half Unicorn wouldn't be enough to combat the evil, much less being a full Unicorn...but it does present an interesting twist. She'd be much like a Uni-Kalona, with the exception that the appearances of a troubled, but "good" [using that term loosely xD] mare would be very slim.
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Posted: Sun Mar 29, 2009 5:36 pm
There are places in the heart that do not yet exist; suffering has to enter in for them to come to be.
SW's name: Jay'A Vantah (possessing victory)
SW's Temper: detestable
Prompt Response: (2000 words or less)
Damn those Skinwalkers. Damn them to the depths of Hell and all the wrath of it's tortures for their arrogant sin! Never before, in all the lore and scars of the Kawani lands has such an act been heard of. And it will never be heard of again, by the will of the Kalona, never again! It was one thing to prey upon the normals and the lesser Soquili. They were merely clones of one another, easy to dismiss and reproduce. Nothing more than a food source and entertainment for all the grander Soquili of bloodlust.
But to kill a Kalona?
The very notion made the stallion's mane bristle and his tail lash. Wind had quickly spread word of the ungodly crime. A legacy had been lost, an elder Kalona slain by those b*****d jackals of a Soquili. And they dare to cackle and bark over their victory, proud of their tactless and rabid existence! Their victory shall not live long! But like the bats of Hell itself, the Kalona were rising, and this Kalona would be damned if he were to miss exacting revenge as well.
And it was with this swelled anger and core desire to exterminate that the stallion bid farewell to his own kin. His fierce mate, and single child of promising strength. He'd return to them, he swore it. And with his return he'd ensure their territory with renewed pride and vigor! The Skinwlkers would cease to exist, and the Kalona would once again reign supreme above all other Soquili. Victory was and always will be the only option for their species, and it was to this victory that this Kalona galloped.
It was one night during his travels, whilst dreaming of bloody pelts and the howls of justified death, that a two-legger crossed his path. The Kalona's lips curled and his wings rippled open, both at the stench of the cloaked human and his boldness to approach. And yet the human grinned, as if satisfied at their encounter.
"Foolish creature," spat the Kalona. He had no time for this aged and withering being. He had better goals to feast upon. But to his utter shock, the two-legger replied in a raspy yet clear voice. "Now now, had you not wished to meet me? For I'm the infamous Skinwalker you seek. Come, prove your strength and reclaim some worth back to your pathetic species."
Human or Skinwalker, the insults seethed the Kalona's blood all the same and his vision turned red. No one or no thing would dare to live after such bold declarations! With a snort and a flap, the stallion charged. Yet the challenger vanished like a spirit, and the Kalona passed through the chalky vapors in its place. In an instant he tumbled to the ground, flailing and screaming like a pathetic infant. What was this pain, this trickery?!? Wings crumbled like ash beside him, and his skin tore like bark from a tree. Vision seered into nothingness, and the Kalona frantically pawed at his eyes. Convulsing and disoriented, the stallion continued his efforts to override the pain, anything to get over this erratic nightmare.
It was only when his claws hit bone and blood filled his muzzle that his nerves seemed to calm. It was....euphoric. This pain and aching was euphoric! In a cold sweat lying curled upon his side, the male soon changed his panting into hysteric laughter. This...this liquid. He must find more! Now! Ripping his own paws from his flesh, the male opened slit eyes, sharp and lustful. There before him stood a pelted human. Had it been there this whole time, watching him? Dismissing the curiousity, his muzzle stretched cruelly into a grin, seeing nothing but a meal before him. The two-legged shuffled upright, glancing down almost kindly upon the coyote. Eyes glinting, the said coyote turned upon his back almost innocently, bristled tail wagging like a lure. It earned him some croaking words from the tall creature.
"Now then, go. The game is waiting for you, as are your opponents. Prove your worth and damn all who stand in your way."
And with that the pelted creature vanished, leaving nothing but the moon to entertain the coyote. Minutes passed, before the words finally struck the slumbering mind of the canine. And his throat rumbled with a sneering cough. "My worth? Stupid old fool! My worth is infinite!" Barking laughs shook his form, the male entertained mindlessly by the useless demand. Oh, but a game? Did it involve the delicious liquid still dripping across his face?
Motivated, the male rolled easily onto his feet with a grin plastered on jaggedly. His eyes slid to the ground below him, and wih his enhanced energy it was easy to see and smell his past trail. Hm, now just where did that trail lead? A quick and careless flit through his mind brought up no recollection of the travel. Curious and bored, the male made up his mind. Flaring nostrils and hissing sharply, he yipped as his flesh torn anew. Oh how it felt so good! The night was young and his hunger endless! Wings spread wide like a stained canvas and his muscular body pulsed in godly energy as he took to the sky, quiet and fierce like a hawk.
With boundless strength and empty thoughts, the newly created Skinwalker flew through the night with ease. The sun came and left, and still he followed his aged trail, the mystery of it's course being his singular focus. Along with the constant churning of his core, craving more of that sacred red elixir. And like a bolt of electric shock, his foremost thoughts were granted physical substance. A new scent filled his nostrils, and it simply pulsed with sensuous life.
Narrowing his eyes, the Stallion soon spotted the source of his desires. Two specks of fur and wings stood upon the wasteland below, idle and watching him in return. Not caring of stealth, the Skinwalker glided down in a powerful embodiment of confidence. And as sure as his descent, the throbbing scent of life overwhelmed his senses.
The two creatures stood still and firm, both glaring and bristling to the stallions presence. One was a mare, attractive but surely more filling as a meal. The other, too small to even be a worthy snack. But food was food all the same, and his fangs were aching to finally be used. To shred and dip into more red liquid.
The Skinwalker snirked as he stepped forward without hesitance, eyes blazing and throat laughing deeply.
"Now then, let's have this Game begin."
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Posted: Sun Mar 29, 2009 6:52 pm
There are places in the heart that do not yet exist; suffering has to enter in for them to come to be.
SW's name: Merikh (Persian for death; slaughter) Honestly though, he’s not going to remember his name, or be sane enough to use one. So I wouldn’t object to something like ??? or Unknown, either. <3
SW's Temper: Unrestrained
Prompt Response:
Hoarse breath spilled from his maw, the rhythmic heaving of his sides paling against the war drum of hunger that beat in his belly. That fine, foul powder had ignited a holocaust within his senses that had spread to inflame the whole of his body, burning him from the inside out until even his pelt seemed to crackle with the torturous heat. He’d been hollowed out, leaving only a shell of the creature he’d once been, and what hadn’t been utterly destroyed by the heat was now twisted and charred with ruin. Hunger filled the crevasses of his gut, fueled by a sort of rage he’d never quite tasted before in his life—and considering his temper, that was a feat all on its own. There were fleeting, crimson-stained memories of a two-legger who had spoken his tongue, promised him a challenge unlike any other... but anything else was slowly being consumed by the dying embers of the flames.
He’d been a proud stallion once, a cunning and respected hunter. Such was the way of the rogue group of male Kalona he wandered with. The art of hunting was the way to earn respect and status within the herd—and the more dangerous the prey, the better. What better way to prove oneself then to bring home a trophy—be it the tangible carcass, or something a little more... distinguishing? The scars that marred just under his left eye had been testament to a brutal struggle with a female mountain lion, seeking not only to defend her cubs, but to bring food for them as well. He’d crushed her quickly under his hooves; efficiency and honorability had always been their way. It was the reason he left the mewling cubs alone and alive, seemingly indifferent to their plight. They would survive if they were strong—and live if they gracefully accepted they were not the top predator here, unlike their mother.
How quickly he’d risen through the ranks of his peers, an able hunter who could, should he be so inclined, boast that he had tackled all worthy foes in this land... So he had decided to wander far from his herd to the lands outside their home. There had to be more beyond the mountains, and Merikh would not hesitate to take to the skies and discover what lay in wait. The man that had spoken in the growling language of his kind had been his first discovery—and promised that, with his help, that he would soon face the greatest challenge his kind had ever known. And then he’d been consumed, some foul powder tossed into his face while he screamed a challenge, a wordless demand that this coward fight him with honor. Jaws snapping furiously, the Kalona nearly bit his tongue in two as he lunged forward, using the agonized burning of his eyes to only fuel his carefully reserved bloodlust.
Things went hazy from there. Tripping, falling, his strength finally too weak to sustain him any longer. Humiliation, defeat, agony, agony...
Hunger.
Blackened lips were pulled back to fully expose pale gums and teeth sullied with his own blood as he seized on the only feeling he could truly associate with now. Hunger.... There was a crunch of bone, another molten wave of pain to rouse his mind to full fury before he felt stubby claws sink into the cooling soil beneath him. A rush of scents threatened to overwhelm him, canine ears swiveling wildly to catch the sounds of the night. Had he retained the thought process to do so, perhaps the Kalona would have marveled at how blind he had been before. A streak of fire-scarred shadow now and nothing more, the wolf snarled even as he bounded through the woods, little more than the beast he now resembled.
Though even beasts only did what they had to, to survive... And it was the scream of children that first filled the newly born night, of mothers howling their pain and grief as they beat themselves against a constantly shifting body--forced to suffer through the loss of their own children before their hamstrings were ripped out and they were forced to limp for their lives. Until, they too, would be devoured by the horse-turned-demon. There was no such thing as honor, mercy, or pride.
Only hunger.
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Posted: Sun Mar 29, 2009 9:34 pm
Every light casts a shadow...
SW's name: Reina
SW's Temper: Sadistic
Prompt Response:
The light of the setting sun shimmered off of the pale blue coat of the mare. Her horn shone as bright as the first star appearing in the night. Her eyes, green as the spring grass, peered intently as she watched the human who wore the pelt of other animals, intrigued by the fact that she could understand him and that he could understand her. He spoke of how in these lands there were these creatures who could become one animal or another whenever they chose to. This fascinated her to no end, and when he asked her if she wished to become like those who could change form, in her naivety she agreed.
Reina watched as he held out the powder, and she lowered her head and inhaled deeply. Nothing happened at first, but just as she was about to ask if it was done, the burning started. It was subtle at first, but as the seconds ticked by the pain started to increase, spreading throughout her body, like a wildfire on the plains. Her nostrils flared open, her breathing became erratic, and eyes wide open in fear. This wasn't what she asked for! He never mentioned the pain that this would cause! If she had known this she never would have accepted his gift.
Reina watched the Stallion run. She often watched him, enjoying his perfect body and the smooth way he moved. She knew that no matter how graceful she became, she never would be like the full blooded unicorns. This stallion was the picture of perfection, and all the mares desired him. Reina knew that she would never have him. He was like all the others, despising her because she was a half breed. She sighed, and watched him work out in the morning sun. Suddenly, he went down. He must have stepped in a hole, or tripped over a rock. He was having trouble getting up. She ran to him, knowing that if she didn't heal him soon, his leg may be unusable. She reached him, leaned down, and touched her horn to his leg. The wound repaired itself, and the Stallion stood. He was about to thank her, when he saw who it was. “Half breed freak. How dare you touch me with your foul horn? You were probably the reason I fell to begin with. Get away from me.” As he spoke that last sentence, he reared up, trying to kick her in the face with his front hooves. Reina ran from the stallion before he could injure her. She had no doubt that he would not return her kindness.
The pain of the powder running through her body was matched by the horrible memory of that day. Not even the pain of the image being ripped from her mind matched the pain from that rejection. She screamed again, as another memory was pulled from her burning head.
“Reina! Reina! Wait up!” The unicorn turned her head at the sound of someone calling her name. It turned out to be her sister, who was racing as fast as she could towards Reina. Her sister lacked the beautiful horn that she was lucky to have but it seemed though that their mother preferred her sister over herself. “Come on Reina! You can't leave us. I promise I'll behave myself!” The other mare pleaded as she caught up to the pale blue mare.
“I'm sorry sister, but I need to go and explore and perhaps help others. You should know that. I'm not wanted here anyways.” Reina said, her voice quiet filled with sadness, as she turned away from her sister and walked away, never once looking back as she heard her sister give a great sob.
Tears for a lost sister, the only one who cared for her, trailed down her cheeks. The lost memory of her little sister, the loved one, tore at her soul, dragging another memory of tears…
Tears flowed like a river down her face as she ran as fast as her legs would go. The names that she was called still haunted her mind. “Half breed! Stupid unicorn! You can't even call yourself a unicorn!” She ran to her mother in hopes of being comforted, but the older mare glared at Reina and shooed her away. Her mother, a full blood unicorn looked down at her daughter in disgust. It was obvious that she was a half breed unlike her sister. Her sister looked like a normal breed and could easily hide the fact that their mother had been with one that was lesser than her. But because Reina had a horn, she revealed to everyone what her mother had been with and for that her mother hated her.
The memories were being torn away, one after another. As fast as she could remember, they were taken from her. The last memory she had, before everything went black, was of the time when she first came to this land. It was a pleasant memory, and a promise she would never now get to keep.
Strange flowers grew around her. She had made new acquaintances on her way here, and was sure there were more to meet. There were those that would accept her for who she was, and not what she was. She would look for those people, just as soon as she became accustomed to this new land. She would make friends. Oh how she wanted to have real friends. I will have friends, she promised herself.
Reina opened her eyes slowly, memories of her past gone from her mind, shoved out by this urge to kill. She could not remember any of her past, but she felt the loss, the regret. Frustrated, her eyes caught the sight of the two-legger, and she lunged at him, her teeth snapped at the air as he seemed to disappear into the air. She growled in frustration as her target was now gone.
Deprived of easy prey, she began searching for something to hunt. Soon, she found a small deer in a field, merrily chewing the springtime grass. Her hunger drove her on, and she dove headlong through the grass to the beast. She stomped on it, relishing the screams of pain as she beat her hooves into its flesh. She bent down to bite into the flesh of the still living creature, to begin eating while it was still alive. As she did, her horn inadvertently touched the beast, and the wounds she had inflicted were healed. It tried to escape, to flee from its tormentor, but she again bashed it down with her hooves. The sounds were almost as fulfilling as the taste of blood, so she began to eat. The deer screamed as she fed, a symphonic melody in her ears, a musical counterpoint to the coppery taste of the blood rolling down her throat.
On impulse, after feeding for a few moments, she again touched her horn to the deer. The wounds were healed, as if they never were. The fear of the simple creature radiated out from its body, and the memory of pain causing the animal to shake and cower. She let the beast up, and backed off. In fear, it ran, sprinting for its life. Reina had found a new game. She chased after the deer, and eventually ran it down. She bit into it, drawing blood, and brought it down with her hooves. She broke bones, slashed skin, and listened to the sounds of pain. This was fun, she could cause all the pain she wished, and the horn could heal them. When she tired, she decided to try her shape shifting abilities. She drew herself into the form of a cat, and chased the deer a final time. This new body had its own advantages, and the claws made the wounds inflicted so much bloodier. She didn't have her horn in this form, so the deer would slowly bleed out. She fed as she wondered what new and exciting ways she could cause the melodies of pain to other creatures. She knew that she could practice all she wanted, that any wounds she caused could be healed by her horn, and she could try again. The thought of always having the music of pain caused her to shiver in delight. She couldn't wait.
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Posted: Sun Mar 29, 2009 10:08 pm
Every light casts a shadow...
SW's name: Ehawee
SW's Temper: schizophrenic
Prompt Response: (2000 words or less)
The wind howled through the small caverns of holes that sparsely etched their way into the side of the broad mountain as a sweet yet sickening scent of blood and snow lingered in the frostbiting air. A grin slide its way upon the feline like creature as her eyes narrowed with interest to the large snow covered stone whose body was half buried in the frozen depths of the solid ground. The blood was still warm from the once pumping bag of flesh as the four legged creature plunged her paws gleefully into the carcass.
“You will make the loveliest paint, wouldn’t you agree Enapay?” the creature replied looking over her shoulder with a sickened grin to the empty mounds of snow that hung near the edge of the cliff like road.
Taking the viscous substance, she flicked her paws to hear the splattering noise of blood and rock collide, Ehawee, or so she had heard from a dainty little filly whose voice curdling screams of “save me” from a mangy wolf that nipped at her forelocks had spoken with a familiar trust to her. The foal’s cerulean blue eyes had shown recognition as she mentioned to her about some family, but Ehawee did not wait to piece the little fragmenting words with images before allowing her cat like fangs to sink into the girl’s delicate pale throat while the voice of Enapay echoed into her mind.
She may have known her from somewhere but through the swampy mess of lost memories, fading pictures and voices the skinwalker found no more use in trying to mesh the worthless pictures that continued to fluttered in and out of the darkest corners of her mind. Of what she could remember of the useless past sent a light wave of delight through her icy soul, the murky remembrance of splattered red dye snow circling around as a voice of a screaming mare rang through her ears. There was noise of larger bodied creatures that pounded their solid hooves into the ground sending a tremble through her body her memories smaller body as her green eyes darted over carcass of stallion whose silky blue markings mimicked her own as the trembling words of defeat escaped from her throat as their eyes all remained accusing her, the half uni who couldn’t even heal her own brother.
“Shuddup Enapay!” the Ehawee cried as she shook the fragmented memories back into the unknown regions of home as she gave a scowl to the only voice that hissed into her mind since the day she had meet the eccentric man with the wild eyes and the threatening pelts that promised her heart’s desire.
Now the powder surged it way through the veins as Ehawee let another sweet giggle escaped from her throat as she licked bloody slushy from the ground before returning her attention to the rock. She, in what little state of mind she had left to her grasp had found itself true bliss, her once inept abilities of healing now plunged itself in to the skillful act of merciless life taking, like an angel of death in her own little world. Letting the fur coated paws smudge the paint another bloody picture of death as a frozen memory to the next unsuspecting creature whose hapless life would find its own graceful end to serve her will.
“It’s perfect Enapay, just perfect.”
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Posted: Sun Mar 29, 2009 10:51 pm
Every light casts a shadow...
SW's name: Durga (unattainable)
SW's Temper: pulchritudinous
Prompt Response: (2000 words or less)
-badump, badump, badump-
"Come on dear, just hold on. We're doing our best...."
-gasp, inhale....exhale....inhale....-
A haze muffled any other foreign words of comfort that may have been said to the mare. Her head throbbed too painfully to even try reaching out for comfort, trapped within her own body. Eyes opened weakly to see the familiar two-leggers shuffling back and forth, the scent of transferred herbs strong in the tent. If only their healing was as strong as their smell. The very thought made the mare's eyes tear up, anguished that she couldn't rely on her own abilities. Not with her weakened state and body tethered to the ground.
Why? What reason had they to bound her when she was only so ill? Was it not their own kind that offered her the powder? Claiming it'd enhance her rank as protector and healer of this tribe? Why would they deceive her so? Had she not been a dear friend, almost kin to these creatures since she was but a foal? Yet...she should have known better. She hadn't recognized the two-legger, but still had trusted his words of promise. All for the sake of her human family....
Wincing as another pain snaked through her spine, the mare whinnied and slapped her thin tail. Why? The humans were quick to approach and touch her, anything to try and comfort the fallen Soquili. The rest of her body felt fine, if not feverish and numb. All the ache, all her suffering kept solely to her spine and forehead. She couldn't count how many times she's passed out since receiving the powder. Her body shivered, going hot and cold, hot and cold. Never making a firm decision. When would it end?
-Badump, badump, badump......-
Night had fallen across the tribe, and still the mare lay awake and sore. The ropes were beginning to itch, as if rubbing against the grain of her pelt. And her tail....was she so weak that even that felt heavy to bare? Panting heavily, the mare gave a faint nicker hoping to be heard. But it passed as a whisper, and she remained alone in the tent. The moonlight could be seen above, brilliant and calm in the cool sky. Unaware and seemingly uncaring to the ill Soquili's plight. Then suddenly-
"Nghaaaaauh!" Hooves kicked out in a sudden spasm of energy, and her neck thrashed against the ropes holding her down. Her spine!! It felt like each bone was fracturing along its length, and her skull splitting in two. Please....please!! Someone, anyone! She thrashed all the more, the rope burning across her blue skin as she attempted to loosen them. But it was all in vain, the weavings stronger than herself.
The strain became to great, and in her frantic struggles she realized too late that she was suffocating herself via the ropes. The mare gagged against the restraints and still her movements despite the pain. What....what was a better way to end this? By lose of breath or pain of vessel, either way she doubted her stamina to survive the night. Nostrils flitted like a nervous bird as she lay and wait to see which claimed her first.
Then, there was a rustle of the tent, and the canvas door folded open. The mare widened her green eyes nervously, spotting the fur and assuming a coyote had smelt her distress as an easy meal. The fur entered the tent and like the predator she guessed it to be, circled around her before sitting behind her neck.
"Dear Unicorn, what ails you so? Do you not like my gift?" Her small ears pinned back as she wheezed in realization. That voice...she knew that voice. Yet she was unable to respond, the ropes too tight. A hand rough like leather reached forward and smoothed over her clammy neck, the pulse there weak but desperate. "Had I not promised you? Protection will be your gift to this herd. But if you are too frail to do such a task, then your no Unicorn of value to me."
The mare was dazed and confused by his words. U...useless? Did that mean.... She winced as she caught sight of a stone dagger in the humans hands, and her body froze over in fear. She...she should have choked herself when she had the chance! And in a swift movement, his arm swung down and the ropes were slashed with a hiss. Stunned and still wary, the mare kicked upright weakly, turning scared eyes to the mysterious traitor. "You...you poisoned me. Why?...."
The pelted two legger shook his head while pointing out the tent's entrance. "Your duty awaits you outside. And with it, your only chance to heal. Go now, and fullfill your end of the agreement." And with that said, the pelt drifted outside the tent, swifter than a sparrow and disappeared into the night.
Still shaken, both physically and emotionally, the mare willed herself to stand. It took some moments, but she finally managed and stumbled outside the tent. Through her entire ordeal, the tribe had remained peacefully asleep. To that small end, she was grateful. Still panting, the mare watched her steps as she walked between the dark tents. Moonlight shone upon her flesh, and from her shoulders down she could faintly see pale rashes scrubbed against her skin. She could only imagine what the rest of her body looked like....
A twig snapped in the still night, and the mare jolted her neck up, eyes set forward. A two legger, maybe? No....the scent was....dangerous. Instinct sent her already fried nerves in a jitter as she recognized the faint smell. It was a feline; a predator to all Soquili. Was...was this the task demanded of her? But how?? She was still so weak.
Tired eyes cast across the slumbering tribe, and her mind was quick to decide. This was her family, and no matter how tired, they'd never hesitate to protect any member of the group. With weak but determined knees, the Unicorn marched forward to investigate. It was near the far edge of the tribe that she found the deadly source. It was a sinister sight, the feline's fur darker than the night itself like an ominous demon. The mare found herself hesitant and doubting, her migraine still as strong as it had been all along. Could she really succeed in this task?
Bowing her head, both in weakness and defense, she slowly neared the predator. And like a proper and almost noble opponent, the feline rose to pad forward as well. But that only lasted five steps, before the feline showed its true cunning and bolted forward for an attack. Grimacing and left with one option, the mare too dashed forward, horn at the ready. A pounce, a slash and a thud was all there was to it. The mare collapse under the weight of the corpse, her horn still embedded in the flesh. Teeth chattered as the mare was hyperventilating from the situation. She...she had survived, yet she felt she'd die this very instant from the stress of it all.
Yet before she could even think of feeling proud of her win, the mare gasped in surprise. The limp paws upon her dug their nails into her flesh. But...but how? There was no pulse!! Flinching away, the unicorn shuddered at the sight before her. The corpse had hollowed without a trace, and the pelt gazed back at her with empty sockets, jawless muzzle almost set in the curve of a grin. Frightened out of her wits the mare tugged back roughly only to trip on the long tail. She stumbled to the floor, the last thing to see was the skin swooping down upon her and swallowing the moon from sight.
Badump.- Badump.- Badump.-
The sun finally lifted over the quiet tribe, warm and ignorant of the night's sinister events. Hues of oranges, pinks, and reds consumed all the shades of night, save for one patch. This patch was separate from the sky above, but mimicked its dark half all to well. Fur the colors of soft night inhaled and exhaled smooth, almost sensually. And small flurries of white like stars helped define the mass as it unfurled for a morning stretch.
Mmm, what a long night it had been. And yet here she reclined, without a single wrinkle to any evidence of fatigue. Why she felt as refreshed as a young pine, and as energized as a waking squirrel. Puffy ears quirked and long whiskers twitched as the female took her time waking up. It was almost difficult, with how quiet the area was around her. But there was a smell....oh what was that fragrance? Oh! That's right. Languidly, the feline picked up her massive paw, eying the cold and dark stain upon it. She lifted it almost gently to her nose, inhaling the scent deeply. Oh how delicious. What a scent to wake up to, how she loved it so! Eyes of green glimmered alertly as the feline fully awoke, and she flexed onto her paws to stand. How genius of her to plan ahead, saving more of the sweet scent below. She could use a morning meal just about now.
And with the grace of a Unicorn and stealth of a feline, the starry female marched herself down to the quiet tribe, remembering just which tent she had used to store last night's hunt.
-inhale....exhale....and never return-
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Posted: Sun Mar 29, 2009 11:35 pm
There are places in the heart that do not yet exist; suffering has to enter in for them to come to be.
SW's name: Aglaece, spelling change on an Anglo-Saxon word that means “demon, monster, fiend” and “hero, warrior” though in this case, on the former meanings are applied.
SW's Temper: Malicious
Prompt Response: Word Count : 1,161
There was a scream of pain as the Kalona writhed in pain. Aglaece had been in pain before; his prey usually fought back when he went after them. This pain was like nothing he’d ever felt in his life. There wasn’t any place that wasn’t in pain, or safe from the fire. A fire surged in his veins, burning everything that was him, every last memory he had. This however, did not faze him.
Aglaece didn’t know why he’d accepted the strange powder, accepted the fire that now surged through his veins. Yes, he was bloodthirsty by blood, and took delight in terrorizing all those annoying little mares, but he wasn’t a monster. Well, that’s what he told himself, anyway. He didn’t try to be a monster, though when he got into a rage he most definitely was one. Then why….
A memory flashed before his glowing eyes. A young foal with glowing orange eyes was playing alone in a field. A pair of other foals came trotting over and ran away from him. Suddenly the picture vanished and only the emotion of deep hurt and betrayal surged through his body. That day, he’d realized he was not like others in the lands. He was not seen as a friend, even if he tried to be nice. No one had taught him what a Kalona was; all he knew was that he liked fresh, bloody meat instead of boring grass. He liked stalking prey like he’d seen the mountain lions do. He knew he had webbed wings and a spade tail, but he didn’t think anything of it. Aglaece just wanted friends. And no one would be his friend. He let out a howl of pain, though whether it was from the fire in his veins or the memory, he wasn’t sure.
More memories flashed by, of him killing weak forest animals for food, of him trying to play with foals his age, only to be left in the dust, of him growing up without parents. More memories flashed by even faster as the fire scalded everything he once was. He saw himself attack a pair of mare in a blind and hungry rage, and killing one of them, and then he saw himself killing more and more and more. He saw himself attack a foal, snapping it’s neck like there wasn’t anything to him. He saw himself eating from that foal, and turn on the foal’s parents and family. He saw himself murder the entire family in a blood lusting rage.
There was a terrible howl, almost in delight, as he saw how the mares struggled and fought against him. He growled in excitement, knowing he had once done that. Why had he never understood what it meant to be a killer before? The fire of pain gave way to a fire of pleasure and excitement. Suddenly all his memories faded with painful fire, but he only grinned. He sniffed, impressed with his new sense of smell in this form. His eyes still glowed, but there was a different edge to them now. Almost sadistic in a way, and definitely made one fear him.
He tested out his paws, feeling the ground beneath him in a new and different way. He was much lower to the ground in this form, but this was alright. He sniffed, catching the scent of a mare, young and in her prime. The wolf grinned and began to stalk her, as he used to. Something was much different, however. As he stalked, he moved silently, unlike how he would have in his larger, bulkier form. He fit into new and smaller places, and stayed hidden much longer.
The mare was naïve, he found, after following her in a circle for ten minutes. She was scared, probably from hearing his screams of pain, and disoriented. Now, Aglaece was never one to play with his food before, but something about his new found power made him want to. He wanted to so desperately, he couldn’t help himself. The wolf darted out and sank his teeth into her back leg. She screamed in pain and bolted. He grinned and ran after her, the scent of blood driving him insane with thirst and hunger. The poor mare ran as fast as she could with her leg screaming in pain. Aglaece darted out again, sinking his mouth into her front leg this time mid stride. All she saw before she went down was a pair of glowing orange eyes. He went flying into a bush, but the resounding crash of horse into ground made it all worthwhile.
Aglaece smirked and found himself able to change back into his Kalona form. He flexed his wings, not noticing the weight of the pelt on his shoulders until the paws hit his chest. With a malicious grin on his face he stepped out of the brush.
The mare was feebly trying to get up. The fall had broken her front leg at the knee and the loss of blood was starting to make her dizzy. She froze at the sound of hoof steps and saw orange hooves in the moonlight. She looked up in fright to see a grin and glowing orange eyes staring at her. The grin licked itself and there was a crack as one of the hooves connected with her chest. She cried out.
“Oh, does it hurt, little miss? Does it hurt when I do this?” he said, kicking her again in the chest. She screamed, only to have him press on her throat. At once his mouth was at her ear. “Now, now, I can’t have the entire forest knowing I’m killing you, know can I?” He scraped her neck with his hoof, as if to drive the point home.
A sudden thought came into his mind, one that would not have originally been there before… before what again? He started to stomp on every bone in her body. Slowly at first, then all at once it seemed as her screams got louder. Her pain seemed to edge him on until he was in a frenzy and killed her with one swift stomp to the neck.
A few hours later, he walked away from his kill, licking his muzzle and paws. He quite liked this wolf form he had now. It was smaller, and he couldn’t fly, yes, but he was much more agile. Some part of him seemed to say ‘this isn’t you!’ but he couldn’t remember who exactly he had been. It seemed that he had been this way forever, not just for a few hours. He liked this. He didn’t care that he was a monster. He was quite thrilled, actually, of his new found power and ruthlessness.
The wolf let out a howl of pleasure at this new feeling. He enjoyed this, no, he craved this feeling. So, he set out to find another pathetic being, preferably a mare, to terrorize and kill.
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Posted: Tue Mar 31, 2009 5:26 pm
>D MADE YOU LOOK.
xD; No, but seriously...good luck, judges. It seems you've been having a fairly tough time deciding...which means all the entries are hellishly good~ ^o^
Good luck to my fellow competitors~
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Posted: Tue Mar 31, 2009 10:14 pm
good luck everyone, this will be a close call 0.o
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Posted: Wed Apr 01, 2009 9:07 am
sbuggy166 good luck everyone, this will be a close call 0.o It will be.
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Posted: Wed Apr 01, 2009 8:29 pm
Good luck to all the contestants. And good luck to the judges as well. Lots of good entries as usual. <3
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Posted: Wed Apr 01, 2009 10:04 pm
Good luck you guys! This'll be an interesting thing to see who wins. And good luck to you judges. I would not want to have to decide between those entries. -so many good ones-
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Posted: Fri Apr 03, 2009 10:13 am
THIS WAS A TOUGH CONTEST TO JUDGE.
There were a lot of great entries, and believe me, I'm already regretting not taking a bigger sack with me to gather corpse powder ingredients. I would have been able to present all the great writers here with their very own skinwalker.
In the end, there can only be two winners.
The winner of the fiery Kalona skinwalker is...
Geyser Eelborn!
And the winner of the starry Unicorn skinwalker is....
Amy D!
But because there was such a difficulty in deciding the winner of the Unicorn skinwalker,
we are giving a backup prize of another unicorn-ish cursed skinwalker (colored by Lilwolfpard) to...
noxilicious!
Lilwolfpard will PM you the skinwalker when she has colored it!
I look forward to the wide range of bloody atrocities your skinwalkers will soon commit!
I will PM the first two winners the uncerts of their skinwalkers. Thank you all for participating! I'll get back to what I was working on, then. This has only been the beginning.
Until next time... twisted
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Posted: Fri Apr 03, 2009 10:17 am
Congratz to the winners~ :00
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Posted: Fri Apr 03, 2009 10:18 am
Congrats Geyser, take good care of him~
Congrats to teh other winners too
Better luck next time to me x3
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