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 Posted: Wed Jan 13, 2010 7:21 pm
((Fair warning....she is nucking futs at the moment.))In several passing moons the forsaken chip of the night sky had hunted and found only the necessaries for survival. There had been very little interaction with other wolves, once or twice in the previous seasons during her good phase in the middle of the night, but for the most part the female remained to herself. There was something though, something that tickled her aged mind whenever the navy snout turned skyward on the first night of the full moon, during the Hunter’s phase, the dull yellow glow. A familiar sense of something earth bound, something she had found in the disgraced land of natural colors.
The racing comets on the dark night pelt, only lightened by the blue, teal, and white nebulae upon her back and inside her ears, shifted with the female in her sleep. A sparkling light turned into burning flashes as silver veins caught unfiltered sunlight above her on the den’s ceiling.
There was a growl that shook the tightly hung jewels that adored the exiled cosmos’ neck. Two darkened, white voids opened and glared at the offending decorations and even sliced towards the shiny, or rather blaring bright objects that littered the corners of the sleeping space. Hostile stars stared at the large chuck of metal that was naturally engrained into the undiscovered-by-man silver mine’s entrance.
Navy lids twitched as the lips quivered, flashing pearly fangs. “Go away.” She snarled at the sunlight reflecting. When it didn’t obey, she stood, hackles bristling and fangs were in full view, “I said go AWAY! Too bright are you.”
A noon beam in the middle of winter just danced tauntingly on the reflective metal in the wall. Claws scrapped upon the rough den flooring and despite the blinding light that was bathing the front of the cave, or having the common sense to go deeper into the cave, where the starry female normal slept…Fangs and claws met the shiny metal with a fierce vengeance that was as unnatural as the female’s pelt as to anything else.
“Intruder,” she growled like an insane creature, eyes squeezed shut to stop the onslaught of the frying UV lights penetrating the night adapted eyes.
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Posted: Fri Jan 15, 2010 5:20 pm
 His charge had certainly grown into her own over the months of aimless travelling they had gone together, though Dover could still see the puppy behind the mature body. Leslie had on many occassions attempted to copy his behavior even, forcing out rhymes or enacting a coarse, succinct style of speaking like his own and yet not very much like his own at the same time; some say mimicry is a form of flattery, but Dover thought it was more a form of avoiding making her own personality by trying out his instead. Sometimes he would half-joke that he'd never save another wolf again if it meant carrying the guy or girl around like a pupsitter. He was supposed to be a mercenary, not a hero.
Leslie, who knew not about the former, considered him the latter. It was an interesting circumstance he found himself in, then, when the male found his urges to go out and hunt on his own terms frighteningly impulsive one early morning. They had stayed up later than usual the night before, talking without any real purpose as they stared the night sky, and for a moment he recalled a different night with a different femme under very different circumstances - and with a very different Dover. Then he had recently been freed of his restrictionsin Sanctity and was on a high of sorts with his newfound power, more wont to indulge himself. And certainly he had with Astraea, even if it had all been innocent talk . . .
Thus the earthen wolf mused to himself as he stalked away from Leslie's sleeping form that morning, incapable of hiding his need to kill. She was an adult and trusted him implicitly for some reason; she could handle a few hours without him should she wake. He never left her after all, whatever his mock protests might insinuate. But even the stioc male needed his alone time where he could act upon the dangerous, wonderful feeling of hunting and killing. Dover barely noticed that time soon passed to noon, pale yellow eyes scanning the horizons constantly.
It happened that something shone strangely in the distance. Pawsteps becoming lighter, he skirted the edge of the forest for as long as he could before approaching the stone den, wary. The bright lights, he realized, were made from sunlight hitting crystals embedded in the walls and cieling, casting beautiful shadows not unlike stained glass had he known what that was. Yet . . . there was a voice from the shadows that hissed and rasped and growled with the voice of a beast. On alert, Dover crouched and, against his the more cautionary half of his mind, inched forward. What was it that made it familiar to him?
And then the wolf saw it. Them. Two pale orbs of pure light, narrowed with anger; and three blue teardrops glistening from the neck of a creature who also seemed to shine with her own shimmering colors, who bit at the inner stones like they were painful. Dover, finding surprising interest in this display and in its apparent familiarity, crept until his shadow engulfed most of the lights' path, forcing the cave back closer into twilight and shadow, though the eyes and jewelry and crystals all gleamed regardless.
"Beauty and beast . . ." he uttered quietly, some mysterious quality carrying it through the cave.
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Posted: Fri Jan 15, 2010 7:54 pm
Fangs and claws scrapping the stone wall slowed as the hidden orbs became aware of a shadow stretching over part of the entrance. Someone, not just light but another creature was daring to enter her den, her shelter out of the elements. That sense made the female drop down from her blind assault on her wall and back into the darkness natural to the den, fangs bared for her own defensive purposes. Everything was this mad creature’s enemy, everything but the darkness.
Glowing white gems locked upon the silhouette in the entrance, ever faint words were pulled down into the depths of the den towards her ears, but their meaning wasn’t caught. Instead, the faintly smaller female kept her head low and her nightly fur bristled. “You sent it in here didn’t you? You want my den, so you sent the sun in her to rid me of the night. My night, you can’t have.” She growled.
There was no wind to bring even the faintest of scents towards the female. So to her she was just looking at a shadow in her entrance way, and if her lost mind connected the fact there was not exit deeper into the cave, she would be have the added hostility of a cornered animal to the insanity of an already confused creature.
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Posted: Sat Jan 16, 2010 9:07 am
That voice! But . . . was it that voice? The twin yellow circles narrowed in thought, and for some reason he was not terribly worried about her snarled threats and accusations as he searched his memory. And, once found, he grew a little confused; it had been many months since that night, yes, and it was a surprise that he still remembered such an ethereal occurance, yet the two voices did not seem to match completely. Similarities, yes, heavy similarities - but the voice quality was very different.
Yet his eyes couldn't deny him the truth. "I got s'much control over the sun as y'do the night," Dover replied levelly in his deep voice, not moving even as the femme's fur bristled. "And 'tis nothing at all at that. Prefer the night, though. Usually quieter. Didn't know this lil cave of wonders existed either." For several heartbeats the male's eyes scanned the interior of the cave and its inherent hidden beauty before returning to the ominous pair of glowing eyes in the dark. "Suits ya in a way."
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Posted: Wed Jun 30, 2010 2:49 pm
Tail tucking under the unhinged beauty for protection, she hunched lower in her darkness. Eyes never unfocused from the creature, male from the depths of the voice and rough accent. An accent that some part of her recognized as if she had dreamed it.
Something her logical mind was trying to piece back together...a meeting in the moonlight months ago. A wolf that had piqued her interest, a fighter and yet one of the ground, and his mind had seemed to be just the same. Set in a certain way.
But the comment about her cave was making the slightly smaller wolf keep her head low. "Might not control the sun, but you take advantage of it's assistance. Come to take this spot of darkness from under my paws." Another invalid accusation, but she wasn't in the proper mind.
Eyes narrowing further she wanted to ignore that comment, the last one about the cave suiting her, and yet she found her head cocking to one side in inquisition.
The words though still growled were not nearly as deranged in nature of hostility, but weakened in her tone and even her fur began to settle. Though she still only saw an outline of a wolf, something familiar was setting in and Astraea couldn't shake it.
"And how would you know that?"
((Apologizes to the roughness of this response Jay, just really rusty and trying to get the kinks out.))
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Posted: Thu Jul 01, 2010 5:45 pm
Yes, there was no mistaking it now. The way she clung to the darkness and hissed at even faint rays, the iridescent look of the jewels dangling in the shadows, the hungry white lights glaring at him through slitted lids, the growls that could not hide that strangely alluring voice -all pointed to one wolf he thought he never would have to meet again, perhaps never hope to meet again.
"I know 'cause it changes without us willin' it. You want yer night? It ain't comin' till it comes. Hiss all y'want, I ain't innerested in yer cave of wonders," he snorted. Why was he wasting his time here? Wasn't he out and about to take advantage of some solo hunt time before his charge woke up? Why stir up a memory that was already so foggy in his mind he had all but forgotten it?
Sometimes Dover hardly understood himself. One minute wanting something, the next side-tracked. Had "parenting" softened him? inwardly he bristled at the notion, and it manifested in his narrowed eyes as he stood tall before the hunched figure.
"Will you stay in here and be laid to waste
By the sunlight that you so hate?
Or will you rise up against the light-faced
And face the day, Miss Irate?"
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Posted: Sat Apr 09, 2011 4:31 pm
Ears were nearly melded into the darkness and chaotic cosmos on the top of her skull. Astraea glowing orbs caught more than just the silhouette of the male now. Dark mud coloring back and the lighter brown shone with the blinding light hitting it.
Memories again came flying up from the darkness like a meteor flying towards Earth. Astraea lifted her head at the flashing memory of such a brutish tongue also being spoken in the hazy thoughts.
There was a desire to growl at his reprieving of the night coming when it wants, she knew this, but the statement of not wanting her den was a bit more comforting. Then there was the poem spoken and the nightly femme's face went from unintelligible rage to confusion.
"Star are not meant to see the sunlight, moon is more welcoming in its less harsh brightness." The soprano made the statement harshly, her mind still reeling from the bright yellow light of the sun.
The words could be confusing, as most things could be coming from the maw of the living night sky, but her statement had also been a confession, the sun's ray made her virtually blind in whiteness when she tried to see in the daylight hours. Twilight was welcoming, less harsher rays pounded the Earth and the night was encroaching anyways, but mid day was miserable and brutal.
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Posted: Thu Apr 14, 2011 11:39 am
And maybe he sensed that weakness in the light, for Dover was not as terribly tense as he might have been with such an unstable creature. The sun protected him for now - she was only lucky in that his bulk cast quite a shadow.
He wondered how he looked. Fur of the earth, eyes of the sun, stance of a mountain, words like a river - well, when he was being poetic at least. Otherwise, grunts like mud.
"Stars ern't meant t'be alone either," he pointed out quietly. "Always were a lotta 'em . . ."
And his impulses began to grow. Insane little impulses and thoughts. Hunting thoughts. Killing thoughts. And . . . creativity.
"How's this sound. I keep ya in the shade, you come and hunt with me at twilight."
It was asinine. Since when did he need a partner? But impulses were inexplicable intrinsically, and the more he stared at this odd beauty of madness before him, the more he wanted to continue staying in her presence.
It was bestial wants. A wolf liked to hunt with a partner if nothing else. He had to keep up mannerly pretenses for Leslie, but with her . . . He could be quite the animal.
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Posted: Thu Apr 14, 2011 1:01 pm
Straightened back in the strip of darkness in the back of the den, Astraea was still staring at the male's face, The memories orbiting now just out of her reach, if only she could find the star to finish the constellation she might know who she was staring at.
The snort was something the dark night couldn't contain at the calm brute's words. "Some stars stray from others. Happens all the time." Her excuse for being alone, but in truth the sane part of the femme wanted some form of company, though her mad brain said it was safer to be alone.
Glimmering orbs glanced over the den entrance, the very opening the male blocked and noted how the shiny veins were not touched by the sun in his bulk. No reflecting lights to bounce all over the cave, into the darkest areas and again there was a small mental struggle.
Her brain acknowledged she was blocked into the den by the male, cornered one could say. Her ears went flat against her skull again, eyes closed though teeth flashed in a silent snarl.
The proposition was given for shade and a hunting companion. She told herself, No threat, besides there is no hostility in the air. The sane brain spoke internally.
The white auds opened up again and the long tail curled around the dark paws as Astraea sat down, "You, eclipse the sun til the day starts to run from the night and as the stars come out...the night will hunt with the Earth."
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Posted: Thu Apr 14, 2011 2:27 pm
"And the earth will welcome it," he said simply, and nodded a little to her. Dover then turned to face the outside and sat on his haunches - he might not cover as much in that position than he did standing, but he was not going to stand for hours doing nothing. Sitting for hours was far easier to accomplish, and even still his shadow was spacious enough for the bejeweled one to find her sleeping spot and curl up.
And Dover knew he was most likely not going to be able to move beyond the cave now, not for many hours. He shut his eyes and began to meditate, and listen.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The sun rose and hit its apex quite some time ago now, and even now Dover watched the sun close in upon the horizon. Once more the sky was being set aflame, and if he carefully stared he could espy several early-risen stars beginning to appear.
He wondered at the weather. Having watched the entire day, it seemed that the sky tonight would be partly-cloudy, with very little wind. They would have to rely more on their ears than their noses then. Thankfully no rain to dampen the scents . . .
Dover had taken most of the time, beyond studying the sky, to shift into his other self - not a separate self entirely, but one that he had not exercised or acknowledged in a good month or so. and, once accepting that solitary predator, he took a deep breath through his nose and exhaled slowly through his mouth.
He could almost taste meat and blood.
For the first time in hours, the wolf stirred. He began languidly stretching and rolling his shoulders, cracking a few joints back into place and enjoying the sensations. His very claws dug into the earth eagerly, awaiting the chase.
'Twas long enough, he thought. Yawning slightly, Dover turned towards the cave's belly and treaded carefully in. He did not disturb Astraea's treasures with his paws, and the only thing he touched was the ground. Several paces before the sleeping wolf, he spoke. "The sky turns to blood. Stars must be woken."
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