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 Posted: Tue Jan 11, 2011 8:08 pm
 The voices were talking to him again. The other party guests in fact. He listened to them absently as he padded along, not even noticing that his paws had become bloody from trudging so long over the cold, cold snow. He was supposed to abandon his clearing with his grisly collection of skulls ringing it. The voices said to find someplace new, that last scene was a drag. He needed fresh blood, fresh faces. His mouth twitched in a smile, although a permanent one was plastered over his face in markings.
He didn't even notice when he crossed over the scent boundary, and if he had, he wouldn't have cared. He was too focused on internal affairs to care about anything. Occasionally he giggled shrilly at some private joke, and he would bare his fangs in something that was more like a grimace than a smile. He smelled heavily of blood, dead, and decaying things that he stunk to high heaven.
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Posted: Tue Jan 11, 2011 8:46 pm
His breathing came in soft growls, deep sounds that rumbled from his chest and whispered along the dark forest. The ground near the Reign of Terror was not all green sweet grass. Most of it was rich dark soil, and shards that layered the ground forming a rocky terrain of obsidian. The formations of natural stone were what the brute and brilliant members of the Reign of Terror had come to call home. Here many had learned that the best odds of survival in a world who saw them as wicked, evil, monsters, was to make nice with all the other monsters and take on the world. Chernabog was proud of this, proud of the home he had made for himself and his dark packmembers.
True they had some who were a little questionable of sanity, but nothing they couldn't handle. The occasional outburst was always a good teaching tool after all. Despite a lack of relations, bloodlust bound the wolves of the reign as well as any bloodties could.
An ear pricked and Chernabog growled softly now, the sound echoing off the metal of his permanent mask. He could hear someone in his land, and trespassing never sat well with any king, but least of all this one. He stalked forward, but not low to the ground as a spy might, rather he boldly moved through the dark brush following the sound of sparse manic laughter. "Who are you to dare enter the lands of The Reign of Terror?" He snarled out as he spotted a mottled red and black male.
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Posted: Tue Jan 11, 2011 9:01 pm
For a moment the strange wolf kept walking, as if he didn't notice this other imposing wolf. Then his ears twitched towards where the gruff voice had originated from. He stopped abruptly and turned slightly. His eerie white eyes focused on the wolf. He regarded him for a moment, not seeming to be intimidated or scared in the least. His gaze was unsettlelingly, as was his presence. He also didn't seem to be fully there and appeared distracted, which he was. "Reign of Terror?" He muses in a voice that alternates in pitch sporadically, as if more than one person were talking. "That the new party?" He asks with a grin and twitches his tail in a slight wag. "Sounds..." He starts, his gaze drifting away to think of a proper word. "Interesting." He finally finishes and he grins, revealing a mouthful or jagged fangs.
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