Cellen wandered alone, still in that dark, gloomy cloud. He was glad to be outside-- away from the confines of the ring and free from the reign of his handler. There had been a great awakening that had come upon him, something that had stirred his soul and brought around a revolution within his mentality; his feral instincts that once lay dormant had been awoken. A rise of rebellion had taken over him and the pursuit of reclaiming his own life had herald the call of being the hero of his own adventure. And now his crusade had led him to this moment.
He was going to escape.
A chilling breeze wisped about the air as it licked at the Mokai’s muzzle with a mocking kiss. Cellen seethed, his jowls gritted fiercely as he heaved a breath through his clenched fangs. The frame of his body trembled slightly as a wreath of mist exhaled from out of his nostrils and encircled his maw. The faux world locked behind the settlement walls tried to persuade him that there was no hope outside of Huntingdon—no future, no paradise. The muddled lies that masked the reality of what lay ahead could no longer sway him. He knew the truth. Beyond these walls there was a fresh start, a new beginning that could never be obtained while under the jurisdiction and control of a damn human. Conviction coursed through his veins and no longer would he live for the sake of benefiting a creature who treated him as a disposable object. There was someone waiting for him out there, someone who loved him—someone he loved dearly. And no longer would these walls hold him captive.
His lips pulled back slightly with irritation as he hackled at the elusive, fickle wind. “You’ll be down another one but I’ll see to it that I come back and rescue others who awaken from their sojourn slumber.” The wolf muttered, ears pinned against her skull with disdain. “There will be a rebellion.”
Suddenly a voice cut through the silence.
“Cellen…”
Cellen swung around quickly but he could see no one. His ears swiveled slightly, searching as he turned his head toward the left, then the right, and still there was no sign of anyone. Perhaps it was a figment of his imagination or the breeze itself was all but chastising him by means of impersonating the very voice of whom he was waiting for. He stared at the bleak path in front of him, the very escape route which he had devised along with the help of the elusive female whom had stolen his heart. There seemed to be a faint scent that lingered upon the wafting breeze. Shifting his weight from his forepaws, Cellen wrinkled his muzzle. Impatience nipped at his paws. Anxiously, and somewhat agitated, Cellen’s ears flattened against his skull as a lupine growl thrummed from the cavity of his chest.
For a moment more the Mokai waited anxiously for the voice as the evening mists wisped about his paws. Frustration etched itself upon his maw. The only response was a buffer of wind. The looming haze whirled with a sudden thought of retreat but offered no better visibility then it already had. It taunted him, patronized her. Another growl emitted from behind the fighters clenched jaws as silence settled once more.
A meager puff of air, which contained a familiar scent, latched itself onto the Mokai’s nostrils. Reisx.
The scent registered in his mind quickly without hesitation. He twitched nose as it drew his muzzle in the direction where the smell saturated the air. Somewhat hesitant, Cellen kept himself shrouded within the mists while his mind restlessly stammered over a plethora of questions.
“Cellen,” the voice echoed once more. This time it was with a likeness that not even the wind itself could replicate with such detail.
Again, his head lifted upwards. This time it was close-- Much closer. He abandoned his cloak of mist and suddenly lunged forward. The Mokai panted, breathing deeply as his paws fervently soared across the ground. Instincts propelled him onward in pursuit. His heart was racing as it wildly beat against the cavity of her chest with a thundering echo. But as quickly as the chase began, he abruptly slowed his pace.
There was a figure in the distance.
Guard hairs along the nape of his neck rose upward as he stifled a growl that desperately sought to rise from his throat. Reisx was close but what if the figure that was looming near was one of the elders? No doubt they would do whatever was in their damn power to prevent him from escaping out into the ‘unknown’. As wariness and alarm flooded through his veins, again, the voice called out to her.
Before Cellen could even act or conjure the faintest idea of how to react, the figure began to approach. Its appearance remained veiled and shrouded by the elusive mist which left the fighter defenseless. An instinct to run pulsated through his disheveled thoughts, even the thought of blindly bounding forward in a head on collision had crossed his mind, yet his paws remained plastered to the terra and earthy compost underfoot. There was all but one tactic that his instincts could coherently wield; intimidation. A snarl parted across his maw, lips unfurled back from stark white fangs as he bared his canines. Like a plumed flag, Cellen’s tail stood erect behind him as he stared into the swirling oblivion. The growl that previously had been withheld at last freed itself from out of his chest with a throaty bellow.
But his posture melted as he dismantled the barrier which he had quickly constructed, the voracious façade fading from his face. A swell of relief tamed his riled spirit. Quietly, he strained his eyes while brows melded together in disbelief. His chest tightened sharply with a gasp followed by a slow exhale of breath.
It was her.
"Reisx..."
She smirked, grinning rather coyly. "It's time to get you the hell out of here. Let's go home, Cellen."
