Story of the Weather
Deayna
Fonts – Darkgarden, wicked spikes like vines
Razzle dazzle – stars and sprinks
Ohmygodstars – stars
Heavy texture – kinda shiny bits, wave
Firestarter – firey bits
Charming font – spidery and sharp
Shower flower – letters in flowers
Seraphim – thin fragmented
Screwy melted wax. Duh.
Milenium – thick, stars above
Mandingo – scrawled
Malapropism – sketchy, dots in
Ennobled Pet – pawprints
Dazzler – odd sketch, thick..
Dekka Dense – normal thick
Dazzle ships – cool kinda echoed
Adlib – thick slight slant
Chef’s slice novice – thick, wave texture
Curlmudgean wideside – fancy
Chonker - nice normal thick
Daemonesque
New chars.
Snowfire!
Flash, demonic with a ‘shadow’ who taunts him.
Flame-Sundance pups.
Burn-Bright-Sky, a placid male, yellow body, orange back, golden paws, golden clouds, a
SkyBurningBright, Burn. Can slowly burn things.
FireDancer Sister, aggressive warrior, evil.
Deaf female that Zeb takes. Excellent sight and scent, can also sense vibrations through her paws. Could be FireDancer?
Someone who gets sick easily. Haze, maybe?
Kae-Wild (poss. Slager)
Cursed Jinx – the pic I’m drawing. Bones outside. White, dark- and blue-grey flames.
Living Dead… Unbound by the rules of mortality. Dives, lives in water long periods. No need to breathe
Cool petpets - Noil, Ghoti, Cirrus, Alkenore, Gruslen, Khnum, Mazzew, Anubis (evil) Reptillior, Magtile. Gathow
Airax names
Harrier – thin female, bared with grey, long wings and tail.
Merlin, small, wise. Black head and shoulders and band in tail
Petpet names: BlackHawk, Myst’s
Evan and Jaron, Cloud and Alkira’s…
Brick, Balios’s Tyrannian doglefox
Demon-Cloud.
Triplets, Haze, and one, identical to one of Angel-Alkira’s.
Haze. Light blue, pale, pale golden clouds. Morning Haze. Dawn Haze? Air elemental. Wings. Surrounded by silver-white mist, depending on mood. DawnsHaze. MorningMist?
Midnight Moon, one of the triplets. Female. Withdrawn, out of the ‘group’. Dark blue, dark silver moons. Goes to BM.
Angel-Alkira.
Three.
Sahara Velvet - Female, tough, gold with bright blue markings. ESLP, stolen while young.
Desert Amber - the ears. Amber eyes.
Random for either.
Bright, rainbow femme, name and nature.
Tough femme, opposite nature to family, wants to be a warrior. Joins ESLP-Terrors. Can hear others thought, sprung form Demon-Angel link. Doesn’t look tough…
Tigertwins, part vampirc. Faint, controllable bloodlust. Small fangs, cannot turn others. Quicker reactions and slightly sharpened senses.
Eclipse – Demon
X-powers
Alchemy – turn anything into precious substances
NightCrawler – teleporter
Impenetrable skin.. Steel pup
Chameleon
Black lotus
Archer
Havoc
Cinder
TwistedTorture
Slater’s – 5 by Inferno: Normal fire
Flame, Flamed.
Merle, specked flames of crimson and gold on black
Zikarma (Made)
Indigo – Dark blue male
Indri – Twin, azure /w black points.
4 by Saret: Dark crimson
LunaEclipse, died in battle. Silver.
Seti, Markor’s special one, trained personally. Red and black swirls.
Blackout – shadow male.
Crystal, light azurite flames over smoky grey
"When I hear somebody sigh, 'Life is hard,' I am always tempted to ask, 'Compared to what?'" – Cloud
The wolf gasped for air, his silver-black furred body writhing in clear agony. He was a sick wolf, no matter which way he was looked at. His ears were low and held close to his head, his tail tucked between his legs, soft whimpers emerging from his injured, burning throat. His proud eyes stared dully into nothing, pleading those who weren’t there and could not see him to help.
James took his hand away form my forehead, anxiously already visible – at least to me, who knew his facial expressions better than I knew my own – in the deep, dark brown eyes I know so well. “You’re a bit hot, babe” His voice was worried to, both eyes watching me carefully. I knew his words hadn’t been a compliment – not that it was the type of compliment he often gave me anyway. He’s a bit more subtle most of the time. I smiled and took his hand in mine, reassuring him. “I’m fine, babe. Don’t worry.”
The Wolf tried to crawl away, knowing what was coming. Weakly, inside him, he knew this place was not somewhere he wanted to be. He feared to be here, even racked with illness as he was. It would make him better, that he also understood. But he had to face his fears of the place, the place where without a doubt, he could never belong, never fit in.
My appetite had sank. Sunday was the last I’d eaten, nothing but a toasted sandwich all day with I later threw up. The days drifted on and I could eat nothing. Did not have any wish to. Fever sent hot and cold flushes that twisted at the edges of my mind, but my thoat was the worst. It only took a few days – but Tuesday I couldn’t have eaten if I wanted to, being unable to swallow without feeling the pain from my blocked throat. Wednesday it was off to my doctor who gave me some drugs and told me I probably had tonsillitis. The next day I was just as bad but I gave it another day, with James hovering around anxiously looking after me. Friday uh-oh, still bad, off to the doctor again. She was worried I was dehydrated and told me to get to hospital. I was in no state to be resisting despite a severe fear of needles, doctors, hospitals…
The wolf whined and turned his head pleadingly. There was no-one to plead with. His limbs were shaking now, he was very obviously in a bad way. He knew there was but one way to make himself better. He had to step into the place of his fears. He trembled and it wasn’t from his fever. He looked down at his paws – normally no strong and able, carrying him over his territory. Now they were hard-pressed just nearing his weight. Ears folding tightly down in submission, he lifted his paw.
The doctor stabbed a needle in me three times, trying to find my notoriously bad veins. I trembled and shook and make an earthquake of my bed, which was near the entrance of Emergency. I told myself all the usual – it could be a lot worse, it was for my own good and ooooohhh shit look at the blood coming out of my elbow….
Finally, finally the needle was in and they attached a drip. Weird. The thirst in my arm was going down. I could feel this cool line going up my arm from my elbow-joint where they at last yammed in the needle. Seriously weird.
They gave me some awful-tasting green stuff to gargle, trying to clear my throat. Man, I took one mouthful and nearly spat it back out. I could literally feel my taste-buds curling up and dying. This was powerful crap, and was probably great for my poor throat – I just couldn’t keep it in my mouth. In the end I threw up – a hard task when you’ve eaten nothing for nearly a weak – from the taste and they left me.
I see your might. Where's your tremble?
Raven on the wing
*Small, delicate-boned femme crept warily into view, ebon-tipped tail flicking slowly form side to side, caution alight on her features. She was deep blood-red in colour with rough, wavy ebony stripes that were too big for her small frame tearing into the neatness of her pelt. She eyed the hot spring nearby before passing it, finally raising herself out of her crouch to her full height – which wasn’t very high – and surveying the area with piercing eyes. There has been whisperings of a new pride in the area… one who wanted members like her*
Others
Deayna Drifter
He found Zeke and his sister when they were but newborn pups. Helpless, one might assume because of it, probably true of Zeke’s sister… Deayna met a warrior of the nearby pack, who sent the drifter and the two pups back to the heart of Nantikan territory. Deayna is, by all accounts, Zeke’s unstated adoptive father. This position of authority is generally accepted with a grudging tolerance prone to occasional eruption as Zeke’s headstrong nature clashes with Deayna’s firm fatherly insistence.
Luna
Oh so few would recognize this bouncy, bright, playful amber pup as Zeke’s little sister. And there is a reason for that.
Zeke opened his eyes and saw his sister at the age of four days old. He would retain this position of the background lookout… sometimes even guardian… but that gap between them would always be a gaping black hole, the space betwixt the sun and moon, a chasm forced into existence and wedged between them by the mutated force battered into their bloodline so very long ago. The shadows. Holding Zeke in their invisible cradle, they ensured that the dark pup would never be more of a brother than a semi-unseen pair of eyes from far off.
Wild – cold silver-grey, bright, pale gold eyes. Started off blue-black. Killed ‘Gemini’ and absorbed him, he’s an “absorbing shapeshifter demon”. Inhales soul of the dead and can become them.
*Daverone emerged from the shadows as if stepping from behind an unseen wall, shaking all over, swinging his head, ears drooping* ~Do you know how my father came to be shadow elemental? His… my… ancestors forced it upon themselves. They were, if not a decent line of Lupes, a tolerable line. Not an evil line. But for the power that they forced upon themselves they paid the price. Darkness sank further into them than they could have foreseen, and every generation it seemed to get stronger and stronger. You cannot simply take the advantages of an element and claim them to your own, and it was to prove for my forefathers. The shadow element tainted them forever, sank evil tendencies into their veins. It didn’t show up in me, not the malevolence… but… it is still there. I hoped, with all my heart, our pups would be spared~ *Finally his words died out, hopelessness seizing him as he outstretched a paw, touching Arumarna’s sleeping figure, oh so lightly* ~They were not~
Shadows
Everyone has them.
Right?
Not like Flash does.
The cocky, self-assured pup wasn’t expecting it. He was snoring gently when his sister dashed past yelling out something or other, and Flame opened his eyes. Sunlight was a rarity in DarkForest, even in the clearings, and it managed to filter into this one dimly. But all the same, as Flash’s ebon eyes flicked open, he started slightly at the shadow mass before him. He blinked. Weird. It was his shadow… but while he was lying down, he could have sworn that his shadow was sitting.
Rolling his eyes and cursing himself for the stupid thought,
*Skinny, oh so skinny. Impossible that this femme, with her emerald green fur thinning over ribs and hips that stuck out at impossible angles, was pregnant. And more, giving birth.
An unborn creature takes everything – warmth, oxygen, and food – from its mother in the womb. And if the mother cannot supply these to the nessicary extent, the body has but one choice: to stop feeding the unborn offspring to preserve itself.
Sasha had carefully chosen a den far away form her brother, so he would not smell anything she did not want him to. It would not do, for him to realize what she had done, how she had failed him. Santini was her responsibility, her job! And he was starving, just the same as she.
She found a disused burrow half-way up a mountain. The peak was covered in snow, and although she was well below this, the temperature was still below that a pup could survive. Sasha lined the small den with anything she could lay paw on – dead leaves, moss, grass, her own thinning fur. The pups were born into a warm, secure den, Sasha made sure of it.
But it was to late.
Sasha cried a thousand tears into the russet leaves. She had not meant to get pregnant, let alone when the father could not remain with her and she had to focus all her energies on keeping her brother, and herself, alive.
But oh, it hurt. To see those tiny, pathetic bundles, huddles still in the warn air swirling around them. She had followed her instincts, she had licked the pups clean and nuzzled them anxiously and urged them to crawl to her belly and feed, take the first life-giving nutrients from her – if she could give them that.
But life had left these baby Lupes. And it hurt, curling around Sasha’s heart and squeezing, in a pain she had never before imagined.
She cried until the whimper, a minuscule, whispered plea for help, reached her ears.
One was alive. He was moving.
Sasha watched him feed hungrily, growing stronger with her milk. She watched him curl at her side, sleepy and content now, completely unaware of the death surrounding them both. But Sasha was aware. Far too aware. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, she picked up her pup – clumsily, unsure of herself. He relaxed instinctively in her grasp, reassuring her. Unable to bear the awful, heart-wrenching tragedy behind her, Sasha turned and with her one remaining pup, left the others still in her oh-so-carefully prepared den.
She was miles away, trying to work out how she would feed both the pup, alive and fighting, and her brother, when it happened. Up on the mountain, surrounding by siblings whose life had left them days before birth – the second and final survivor weakly lifted his muzzle and whimpered a near silent plea for food, warmth, and the mother he could not feel.
*The pup moved with an odd type of grace, especially for his gender. Perhaps because of the long size of his legs, not to mention his elongated, flickering tail. But it may have just been his eyecatching markings creating the illusion of such a smooth gait. He was covered, every inch, by unbroken grey and white checks of varying shape and size, fitting together on his pelt like some insane jigsaw puzzle. It literally was impossible to focus on his shape, with the rippling movement of the flat muscle under his pelt creating dizzying patterns along his fur with each step. Staring at this Lupe moving for too long would give one an instant headache.
He was moving through DarkForest as if he knew every tree off by heart – in fact, he had never ventured here before. He knew this was where his siblings had been taken. And so, this is where he had come to*
-Jace Skylar-
He is a handsome creature, a young adult with a good build, soft tawny pelt, and beautifully clear blue eyes. A lively bounce to his step, honest expression residing in those bright eyes, a smile never far off his striped features….
But it is all a deception.
Adoni
She is, at best, a rather mismatched looking Eyrie. Dull orange forms the shade of her body, upper limbs, and head, while her ears and up till half-way on her legs and tail is a dusty yellow. Her mane and tail-tip are faded ebon, the dreary shades working together to produce an odd but rather mundane appearance. One would dismiss the idea this femme had a dangerous look to her, but for a few details – the slick full black of her wickedly curved beak and claws, and the sharpness in her red-rimmed eyes. Against either side of her back a sliver of brighter colour is shown, her tucked-away wings folded tightly.
As odd as her looks were, her story was another matter. She had been thrown out of her clan and family because of her aggressive nature, and ever since had been on the move. The past was not what Adoni cared for. Her mind was on her future. None could put up with the dusken femme for long, her sharp tongue and her black moods, her cruel side. So she kept moving, kept searching, following the setting sun on land and through air… feeling that somehow, she was nearing her future.
He was born to a normal family in a normal pride, within the very midst of normality. Of course, at birth, his one distinguishing feature could not be seen… that of his bright blue eyes, closed tightly in infancy. But from the moment they opened at a month of so old, they started to spread the deception. He was so friendly, so playful, so open and always with a smile.
His claws were so sharp, so quick, his kitten-teeth so vicious, when those fooled by his appearance ventured too near.
Only his parents could approach him, any other was met by the little fangs of the cub, the mouth ever-open in the trickster smile. These cubbish actions he would retain as an adult, but now there was a seriously different meaning to behavior which once could be put down to kitten-play. The severity of those fangs no longer brought about an annoyed glance or reprimand due to a nip or a patch of missing fur. The penalty of falling Jace Skylar’s trickery was now death.
Unitedpacks, the wolfwise ones!
Roads are not always the easier of places, but Renegade fighter had made his home on them since he was a pup. Roaming was in his nature, in his very blood, and the restless Lupine could never stay in the one spot long. His soul was only happy out on the road, ready for the unknown challenges, dangers, and surprises that lay ahead. These he faced with a never-failing good nature, a cheerfulness and spirit unmatched by many.
He was as bright in pelt as he was in nature, varying hues of yellow to contribute to an overall vivid creature. His eyes were crinkled playfully, his lanky figure often seen with the small golden flash of Pat, his Meerca friend, nestled into his mane. Pat had some trouble thinking for himself, and due to damage to his mind, he was unable to speak. Slightly shy of strangers, the squirrel-like little creature stuck to Ben like glue, and the big Eyrie was very fond of his little companion.
Ben had not always possessed the nature he did as an adult. As a kit, his stern mother and harsh father had turned him into a cowering, fearful little thing terrified of the next blow from his father or sharp nip from his mother. It was his elder sister Skye who rescued him, and brought him to the peaceful safety of her human Chris. Kindly and caring and never one to stand for animals being mistreated, Chris took Ben under her wing, so to speak, and with Skye’s help, raised Ben. It wasn’t long before the scrawny kit was growing like mad and starting to perk up. By the time he was a teenager, an infectiously cheerful nature had overtaken his dark early days, and such a nature Ben would always from then sport.
With Chris he remained until a young adult, befriending a Lupe Pack
His life is dedicated to friends, both old and new; to his love, The Lady Coy; to the four pups they brought so proudly into the world; his pack, for whom he brought the greatest darkness one could envision; and his dedication says he will protect everyone one of these to the death.
-The pups-
Irido Kimeron, Anabael, Jazovac, Arumarna.
Kim, my boy. You’re growing so quickly, Coy’s and I’s flames become more distinct with each day. So much of us both runs in you – and it isn’t just appearance. Oh, you’ve my build, your mother’s eyes… my protective side, your mother’s strength. And I have a very distinct feeling you’re going to need that strength before too long…
Anna, pretty one, you don’t know how much it means to your mother and I to be able watch you; playing, laughing, enjoying every second of your puphood the way we could not. I hope that whatever events befall your life, you always keep laughing. May you ever have the brighter side of living on your side.
Jazovac, Badgerpup, biggest of the litter and yet the quietest. I feel as though I cannot reach you, you seem – distant, almost uneasy with the family. It hurts me to see you looking, searching… and I hope some day, you will find your peace.
Arumarna, young dark canine, more a mystery than your brother. I see the restlessness grow within you, see the rebellion against rules and boundaries only you can detect. You’ve been curious about everything from the start, from Starwords’ garden to Border Forest. I can see it rising within you, the deepest darkness of my line… and I don’t know how to stop it.
Scarlet was a swift one. Not a heavy build, but with enough muscle to ensure her fleetness without weighing her down, perfectly balanced. Bleeding Moon life suited her fine. There was Ash and Mamba to take warrior training from. There was definitely no shortage of other pups – and Scarlet loved being in the midst of things, fighting her way to the top. At least in her own eyes. Within the younger members of the pack, a clashing of beliefs had separated them into two groups. Scarlet was one of the larger groups… backing Mock and Devonian as the true heirs to the Bleeding Moon.
He had grown to the solid build of his father, with those empty ebon eyes trademark of his line. Temper, like his sister’s, was quick, but unlike hers, she was far freer with it. He had a right to be – life was bad enough without getting his own way.
He was content enough with the Bleeding Moon. It gave him somewhere to focus his energy and hate, a real-life situation to practice the fighting skills he practiced so often, often because there was nothing better to do. Outlaw simply grew bored easily, and went looking for things to do.
His restlessness was picked up by the one of pack’s two lead warriors, Ash. Shadows of Ashen, was his full title and he was actually Outlaw’s uncle. Though Outlaw was fierce, merciless and aggressive, while Ash was far quieter and more tolerant, they got on well. Outlaw gained a lot of respect for Ash, and Ash admired the pup’s fiery spirit. Ash worked with Outlaw often, teaching him the arts of being a warrior, and with his purposeful intellect, Outlaw excelled.
If Ash didn’t find him first, however, things could get ugly quickly. Outlaw, though he secretly believed in the Bleeding Moon, did not believe in Devonian or MockSlaughter. The two pups of the pack’s Alphas thought that as far as things went with the Bleeding Moon, they were the ones who would bring it to rise. Regardless, their high-class – because in the Bleeding Moon few were regarded as important as the offspring of Alpha’s first litter together.
Devonian and Mock knew this.
Outlaw disliked them… not to the extent he had hated The Twins, but the siblings were low on his likes list, to say the least. Devonian had long since learnt not to challenge the solid crimson youth to a playfight unless he was well-prepared – Outlaw did not play nice. At all. Devonian was left with a scar form their first encounter, and would not forget it. In future, he was more cautious around Outlaw, especially when it came to challenging him… but Devonian had a long memory. And a lot of power.
For many months, Ty and Renegade traveled together. Renegade taught the young crimson and silver Lupine a lot – hunting, defense, how to read natural signs, how to tell when they were approaching a pack. Renegade’s sharp, mid blue eyes kept a constant watch over his traveling companion… but one thing he did know. This pup was not born for the open roads. Renegade traveled easy and light, noticing the cuts and bruises on Ty’s paws in the evening. Oh, he was a sweet-natured youth, eager to learn, eager to prove he could do it – and he was far from lacking in courage. Never once did Renegade hear him complain. But the slaten Lupine made up his mind. Ty would not turn into himself, a roaming loner, constantly wandering. No, it was not for Ty. The determined teen had many of the qualities for becoming a good pack member – and Renegade knew the right pack. One who would not turn away a fairly shy, uncertain, homeless young Lupine who was looking for his family away.
Renegade slowly led the way over the terra’ towards the Fire Eagle Lupe Pack.
*Lopey flashed the ghost of a smile* ~Life is but a hardship, a good life is being able to find the what is not tainted by shadow and evil - especially around Fire Eagle territory at the moment~ *Sighing, he smiled more warmly, touching Coy's paw lightly with his own, upon closer inspection very much scarred* ~And you, my dear, and your mate have had your own share of troubles, and likely there will be more in store ahead. But you must no linger on this - you have done well for yourselves, both of you, and nothing more could be asked of either of you. You have your family now - do not worry too much for the hardships of life, embrace what you find as good~
~Well, raising pups is not always an easy job - believe me. Jazovac was afected by his twin's death... though he can tell something seems to be missing in life, he does not know what. As for his nature - he is not unlike Wolverine was as a pup. He needs to find his place in the world, discover there is a place for him. Arumarna - she is restless pup and will be a restless adult. Like Jaz she needs her place, but I am afraid - not wishing to worry you unduely - I fear her path will be dark. If this is true, then there is little you can do to prevent such. She will walk her own path, with or without your consent. The best you can do is provide what you do already - a family, a home, and let her know you care for her~
The clan leader rose himself to his strong, muscular hind legs. His ears flopped to either side of his head frivolously, falsely deceiving to any who might not know him, as his dark green orbs surveyed his lands. Revan was a fierce warrior, and led his Zafara clan with an iron paw. Despite his dominant durability and an unforgiving, intolerant nature, he was a good leader. None of his clan would come to harm under him, and once his trust was earned the jet black warrior Zafara was loyal to the death.
Though he had no official rank within the clan, Valefor was a well-known and highly respected clan member. Being the leader’s brother, it had simply been that way for Valefor ever since he could remember. In looks, the pair could not have been more dissimilar. Valefor was a towering beast, and although Revan was not short, he was dwarfed by his younger sibling. While Revan’s fur boasted not a solitary speck of ivory – in fact he was pure, unbroken black, an imposing sight to behold – Valefor was a Zafara of golden-tipped white fur. He was also highly noticeable by another feature – his long silver-flashed wings. His tail, too – bright golden – bore three outward facing spikes. The only other colour on his self was that of lightened golden, which was the shade of the tuft of fur on his forehead. None would every pick Valefor and Revan as siblings save for one thing – both were incredible warriors.
Revan was the eldest of five kits, Valefor the second. Their father had died long ago of a crippling disease, but their mother, once a lovely black and white beauty, was still with the clan. She was beautiful no longer. Lines traced deeply over her face, her faded wrinkled pelt hanging in folds. She was very, very old now and rarely moved from her home den, a lavishly decorated cave in the mountainside. She was tended to by the youngest and only female of her offspring, Sanria. The pale yellow female was sharp of both eye and wits, and stood for no nonsense. She was every bit the heart of the clan as her eldest brother.
Revan tilted his head, indicating Valefor to approach. Revan was not renowned for his hospitality or friendliness, but Valefor was far used to his brother’s ways.
~You wanted me, Revan?~ He asked without grandiose. He never bothered with titles or official greetings to the clan leader. Revan nodded his sleek skull. Lifting a paw encircled by a double-stranded pawring of finest gold, he pointed to his brother. ~I have been watching you, Valefor. You grow restless. You wander from the clangrounds and return without your healing herbs. You seek solitude far more than you used to~ Valefor sighed, shaking his head, long golden-bound ears flopping. ~Yes, brother Revan~
~You think I would miss these signs? You are restless, Valefor. You tire of sitting for the kits, of hunting for the elders, of the simple calm of our clan life. It is not the existence for you~
Valefor sighed again, heavier this time. ~Brother, I mean no disrespect for your clan, for your members…~ Revan cut him off with a wave of his paw, the gold band glinting in the sunlight. ~The Golden Night Clan, you know, values their herbalist. But I personally, value my brother’s state of mind. I would not have you stay with my clan unhappily, my brother~
~I am not unhappy, Revan. Not could I leave, my place is here~
Revan shook his head slowly. ~No. No brother, your place is not here. Your place is wherever you choose to make it to be, and never lat another tell you otherwise. You spirit was not born to be a peaceful healer in the midst of a clan, you are a quiet beast who likes his privacy if not his peace. Your spirit is restless and far be it to me to keep you here. And so I give you an order, my last as your clan leader. I order you, Valefor StormGuardian, to leave my territory and travel for your destiny. You are hereby relieved of your membership and all obligations to my clan. You will be gone by the morrow. That is all~
Valefor stood tall – not difficult, for him – and nodded respectfully. Of course, just as he knew Revan, Revan knew him. He could not hope to hide anything from Revan’s dark emerald gaze.
~The orders of my clan leader will be seen true. I respect your wishes, clan leader, and depart at once to carry out as I was requested~
Valefor turned, flicking his spiked tail in a final farewell.
~Clan herbalist, clan leader, wishes to thank his clan for all they have done for him~
~I will see the clan received this message. Travel safely, my brother.~
There was little packing for the restless zafara to complete, simply organizing his current herbs into the pack he constantly wore over his back. He made his rounds to his sister and two younger brothers, and last to their frail old mother in her cave. It was the wrinkled old female zaf who saw within her son his will, his rebellion against all that was serene and slow-moving. He was a creature of action, Valefor, and would always remain so.
~I wish it for you to take this~
Valefor took the magnificent golden band, adorned with half a dozen spikes to the front. It was oddly resemblant of his own tail, just as bright a golden colour and set with dangerous barbs. ~Mother, I-~
~I will not hear different. Take it as a gift to remember your old mother by~
Valefor looked into the old, wizened eyes boring intently into his own.
~Thank you. I wish you well, clan member~
The roads were long, harsh, unforgiving, – and exactly what Valefor enjoyed. Moving with a loose, powerful trotting gait, he pushed his large frame on steadily. When his paws grew weary, the long silver-flashed wings would unfold from their neat traveling position curved around the blades on Valefor’s spine, and he would take to the air for his travels. In this way, the solitary figure covered great distances, and was rarely seen more than once in the same place. The herbs he collected in his pack grew in number and range, his paws were cut and sliced and many times healed, his large pale green eyes seen an array of sights few had seen before – and still, the powerful Zafara journeyed on.
*She appears n front of you with an odd, slinking grace, her paws soundless over the bare earth. Where she appeared from is impossible to determine – though the barest edge of the forest offers only meager cover in the form of half-grown saplings and stilted shrubs, the femme seems to have simply materialized from behind one, and now stands silently before you. The unease starts at your spine, spreading over your body swiftly. Mainly, it is her eyes – they are deep, bright golden. Beautiful… but dangerous. They burn with some strangely, powerful intense inner force, locking onto yours. You feel suddenly she will not let you move, feel it is no effort for her, that she can simply stand there before you, holding you captive, and you will never be able to prevent her to do otherwise. Then, an odd, unwelcoming smile flickered, bordering on a level of mocking you – and you move, edging backwards instinctively as her voice, as powerful and compelling as her eyes, reach your ears* ~You fear me, #VISITOR. Do not feel fear alone, for you don’t, most do~ *The complex sentence borders on a riddle, and like that smile of hers, has an edge as if she is making fun of you. But there is also a trace of boredom in her tones, as if she knows you pose absolutely no threat. Her tail-tip flickers, sharply, her eyes contract slightly, seeming to light up from within, almost glowing. She lacks the normal cream markings of most Lupines, indeed, the only other colour marking her pelt is that of silver, upon both her narrow ears. And once more, you feel as though you are powerless to move a muscle. She scowls suddenly, deeply, her expression changing dramatically to unhindered irritation. Scorn flashes over her fine features and you start to panic, try desperately to move* ~Ffh, you are all the same. Each mind weak, each body helpless to resist my mind. You pose no challenge. Pathetic weaklings~ *She turns, stalks away with incredible beauty and grace in her aggravation. But it is not until she moved out of sight that you find you can move your limbs again, and hastily turn tail, running in the opposite direction from the temperamental femme*
*She sits with a doglefox beside her, an oddly-marked pet with smoky grey on shorn ivorn fur. She herself is flamed, but not in the normal manner of golden, crimson and orange. She lacked any type of yellow markings, leaving only orange and scarlet burning upon her ebon pelt. The smoky doglefox at her side is obviously a close friend, easy to ascertain by the way the two sit together. As odd as the look, the Lupine many times the size of her minute companion, they sit with sides touching, the pet’s face earnest and compassionate as the Lupine speaks softly to him. Neither notice you. They are seated in a tucked-away corner of the forest, shaded by a leafy oak, the flamed youth’s back against the bark. They look sheltered and content with one another’s company, so you quietly move on without disturbing them*
Even the most unrealistic story, if told in a realistic manner, can become believable.
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*Two eyes meet yours, appearing suddenly from the depths of the forest. Like their surroundings, the orbs are a deep, natural shade of emerald. After a moment, your eyes differentiate from the dark patches the shape of a Lupine. He is dark, as far as you can see, his pelt is a deep, rich ebon. But as he takes a few slow, wary steps forwards, further into the light, you see he is not a shadowed Lupe. A skunk, but where white markings would normally lie, his are a darkly-shaded ash grey. He is solid, lacking nothing in muscle or a good build, each limb – three ebon, one ashen – tensed and alert. Tailtip twitches, no sign of friendliness or greeting given – merely a final stare from those forest-shaded eyes before he turns and slips silently away through the trees*
My earliest memories are those of my puphood. I didn’t have much of a puphood, so to speak – or at least, what I did, wasn’t very long. I was the third eldest, before me were Strider and Santini, the twins. Big, lanky, black-pawed yellow males. In love with live, they were. Quiet, reserved Veil was after me, his coat dark-jaden, like mine. But a thick, near-black mask of fur covered his head and neck, which was how he got his name. Then there were the youngest, a male and a female, one blue, one yellow. Mother was a gentle, good-natured creature and noLupe could have care more for her litter. Father was kindly and very easygoing on us pups, putting up with any amount of our playfighting.
But peace would not last. Strider was the first of the family to fall, with Santini watching, horrified as they tore his twin apart. It destroyed Santini, too, at least who he had been. The happy, joyful, bold pup died with his twin, leaving behind a near-silent, sullen, withdrawn, mistrustful shell.
The pack that killed my brother came after my parents, only a few weeks later. They killed both of my parents. I remember watching, paralyzed with shock, knowing there was nothing I could do. Just watching…
The next thing I knew, Santini shoved me out of the hollow log, pushed me roughly in the opposite direction to the savage pack* ~They’ve seen us! Run!~
But it was too late – As Santini had said, they had seen us, and they were coming after us – five pups, no more than further sport to them.
I found myself running blindly, alone. And so I would remain for the next hour, running my heart out, cold terror gripping my heart at the memory of a snarling, vicious blue and white face with empty black eyes. That fear kept me running even though I could no longer hear them behind me.
Finally, I stopped. I fell. Heedless of everything, my body would stay awake no longer.
When I awoke, I found I was still alone. But I hadn’t been tracked and eaten by killer Lupes, so some luck had to have been on my side.
This realization reminded me that the savage pack could still be out there… still trying to kill me. Had they got my siblings? Quiet Veil, reserved Santini, and our youngest two siblings, shy Deayna and playful Sunflower. Were they even alive now?
I tried to hunt. What choice did I have? I was completely alone in the world, I had nothing and no one to rely on. My siblings could be dead, and I could be being trailed by a pack of Lupes who would ensure I soon joined my family.
During the next few weeks, I lost all traces of fat I had, which wasn’t much. The most experienced I’d had with hunting was playing with a lame mouse Strider once found – nothing more than that. I went very hungry, surviving mainly on meager scraps while I trialed and errored after small rodents and insects.
Then, a few weeks later, I came face the face with a rangy yellow male with black paws, his ribs showing through skinny sides. His deep blue eyes, mirrors of mine, went wide with shock, then Santini was hugging me fiercely. I hugged him back, thankful beyond words my brother had survived.
We stayed together – indeed, we were inseparable. He hadn’t changed from the state Strider’s death had left him in – indeed, he was even more withdrawn from things now. But I grew to understand him, respect him – and I developed a deep, powerful bond with my brother. We kept away from others, learnt to hunt together, though neither of us were very good. Santini didn’t trust strangers, and any who, on the offchance we hadn’t seen them and moved on, approached either of us they were met with bared teeth and snarls. Santini was perhaps, a touch protective of me. I didn’t, don’t, blame him for that. But I hadn’t had any experience with the world, with meeting new people. At that stage, it didn’t really matter to me, but I’d pay the price in later life.
Then it happened. The fight, alongside strange, unknown Lupines to us. Normally, Santini would have steered well clear of them, but we were drawn by the sounds of battle. Santini was drawn – I believe, somehow, he knew who it was tied up in this particular fight. There we found the Lupes – two skunk, a blue and two fires – fighting a bunch of the Lupes who had killed our parents. Santini lost it. I’d never seen him so angry. He went straight to the big blue Lupe’s side. I didn’t understand the reason why, then… though the blue fought with the ‘good guys’, to me, he looked very alike to the savage pack. A shade lighter, and he didn’t have those chilling, all-black eyes… but my wariness kept me back for a moment. Not so Santini. The blue he leapt to help versed an equally massive, darker blue Lupine with black eyes. It was this Lupe, before the pack retreated, who struck Santini.
I had joined the fight, unable to bear seeing my brother hurt. The battle raged. I was no fighter, I’d never lifted a paw against another as long as I’d lived. Finally, the savage ones pulled back, and the skunk male with white paws and blazes over his back let out a yell* ~They’re heading back for the pack! Follow them!~ *I never forgot his fierce, warlike expression. He hated those dark blue, black-eyed ones. I knew, because I’d seen the same hatred on Santini’s face. The skunk, I would later learn, was Wolverine, an amazing warrior of his pack. His expression that day burnt itself into my memory, mingled with the exact expression on Santini’s face. I would always remember that expression, for one reason… it was one of the last expressions my brother would ever accurately make.
One of the black-eyed caught me a heafty blow to the head, and for a while I lay, disorientated and stunned.
When I went to him, the others, good and bad, all gone now – I could not hold back the gasp. I could not see Santini’s face. It was masked in blood.
I cleaned him, tried to stop the wounds bleeding. He was unconscious, and would remain so for the next three hours while the blood flowed. I could not stop it flowing.
Finally, it stopped, and with uttermost gentleness, I rinsed the last layer of blood away.
This time I made no sound. But the shock still hit me to the depths of my heart.
Three wounds ripped over my brother’s handsome face. Two complete, one broken. They were as deep as my claws were long – and they tore over both his eyes.
He lost his sight. How could it be retained? The wounds were direct and I was no Healer. As long as he lives, Santini will never see another thing.
As I’ve said, I am far from a Healer. Santini’s wounds were slow to heal. I hunted for us both, but again, I was never outstanding at it. Slowly, Santini and I grew thinner and thinner. I spent all day and most of the night trying to find food for us, getting three or four hours sleep a day, if I was lucky. Santini and I pushed on, gradually, leaving behind the battlefield which had claimed Santini’s vision. We stayed away from everyone. Who could tell who was out to harm us and who honestly wanted to be friends? I couldn’t bring myself to take the risk, commit to anyone. So we kept moving. Santini didn’t trust anyone anyway – loosing his sight, being unable to hunt and care for either me or himself, was a terrible blow to him. For a while he did not speak a word. For a while he snapped at anyone we did meet. Another reason to remain loners and on the move. I tried, I tried so hard, to look after him. But I just wasn’t good enough – a good enough healer, hunter, sister. I could do nothing but keep hunting, leaving Santini curled up in a hollow or shallow cave or abandoned burrow, while I did. I could do nothing but watch his sides grow thinner and thinner, until trenches forced themselves between each of his ribs.
I was no pretty picture myself. Skinny enough to rival your average Meerca, I was in as bad shape as Santini was – which hardly helped my minimal hunting skills. But Stone never saw things that way.
I was padding slowly alongside a narrow stream, watching for dead fish and other possible meals. I caught a soft rustle, and then saw the Lupine. He was big, taller than me, and far more solid. Muscular, no doubt this was a fit creature. His thick fur was a solid grey, evenly-spaced ears swept back in a curve. He watched me, eyes as clear a blue as my own focused straight at me, wide, an odd excitement glittering in them. I slowed further, staring back at him, trying desperately to think of something to say – and tripped over a tree root, splashing straight into the stream.
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