Post by Xolotl on Jan 27, 2016 16:58:30 GMT -5
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[attr="class","pltxt"]There was no power or pride to be had in the life of a loner. Xolotl was not destined to live out his life as an impressive loner. For starters, such monotony was the most mind-numbing thing to endure for the mentally challenging brute—everyone was the same, a miniscule, ambitionless vagabond, never giving Xol something to compete with. Their incompetence began to frustrate the Kenai Peninsula dominant and his patience had a short fuse once it was lit.
Tail hanging limply behind him, the loner—well, loner for now—strode confidently to the border of the rumoured almighty pack. Just to not seem weak, weight was put on the grey-and-white male's poor leg so that he did not appear crippled to the leaders. Pain distantly shot through the yearling but he paid no attention to its warning, easily exercising all four limbs as if it was usual routine. As the brutish scent markers grew closer and closer, Xol's mind wandered to his future paradise.
First and foremost, he was likely to encounter his father. The powerful wolf that Emerald had spoken of, one that had dominated her so easily... Immense pride swelled in the chest of Xolotl at his paternal ancestory—Beta of such an infamous pack! He ran through what he had deducted so that he could ask—what was the Alpha's name again? Goliath, or something of the sorts? Xol had overheard rumours of a new leader but he did not care. This mighty Goliath would not let any old weakling to take over so the rumours did not bother the potential new member. Yes, he would ask the Alpha who their Beta were, about their blue eyes and grey fur, the things that Xol's littermates and himself had inherited from some unknown sperm donor...
They then spoke of a land of giants, a place where males were gargantuan in size and dominated their lesser female counterparts. Perhaps, in this land of giants, Xol would not stick out like such a sore thumb. Perhaps some would be larger than him, some wolves who would not goggle at his abnormal size. And also, finally, some females who knew their place, who would not get ahead of themselves with males to keep them in check.
Many more rumours of this Kairos pack had reached Xol's ears such as there being a special rank dedicated to killing—serving a pack by killing was a new, and gladly welcomed, concept to the yellow-eyed necromaniac—and of their considerable empire, expanding three, four now apparently, territories. Having become a little obsessed with the concept of such a pack, he had already memorised three territories within their empire—Ina'mos, the heart of the pack, Vor'asa, some sort of training zone from what he had heard, and Acerbus, just another piece of land for the giants of Kairos. The fourth one, should it, of course, actually exist, could be a pleasant surprise, Xolotl decided.
Just before the trees lining the death-obsessed behemoth's vision, a strong scent of prey grabbed Xol's attention. After having spent so long stalking and killing prey in Kal'dyne, Xol instantly identified the mammal as a buck, and a healthy one at that. To most wolves, attempting to take down a buck without assistance was foolish, but size coupled with sheer strength was on the male's side.
Both natural and obtained muscles rippled under a multihued pelt as Xolotl pursued his deer victim, a delicious metallic tang already welling up in his kill-ready mouth. It was with not much struggle that the cold-hearted wolf could kill the buck, ending the prey's short but seemingly fulfilling, from how sizeable his corpse was, life.
The meal was deposited at Kairos' border—Acerbus' border, Xol knew, for he had taken the time to learn where all three of these territories were too—and deep-throated vocals promptly rang out across the claimed lands, rippling through the woods before Xolotl.
Tail hanging limply behind him, the loner—well, loner for now—strode confidently to the border of the rumoured almighty pack. Just to not seem weak, weight was put on the grey-and-white male's poor leg so that he did not appear crippled to the leaders. Pain distantly shot through the yearling but he paid no attention to its warning, easily exercising all four limbs as if it was usual routine. As the brutish scent markers grew closer and closer, Xol's mind wandered to his future paradise.
First and foremost, he was likely to encounter his father. The powerful wolf that Emerald had spoken of, one that had dominated her so easily... Immense pride swelled in the chest of Xolotl at his paternal ancestory—Beta of such an infamous pack! He ran through what he had deducted so that he could ask—what was the Alpha's name again? Goliath, or something of the sorts? Xol had overheard rumours of a new leader but he did not care. This mighty Goliath would not let any old weakling to take over so the rumours did not bother the potential new member. Yes, he would ask the Alpha who their Beta were, about their blue eyes and grey fur, the things that Xol's littermates and himself had inherited from some unknown sperm donor...
They then spoke of a land of giants, a place where males were gargantuan in size and dominated their lesser female counterparts. Perhaps, in this land of giants, Xol would not stick out like such a sore thumb. Perhaps some would be larger than him, some wolves who would not goggle at his abnormal size. And also, finally, some females who knew their place, who would not get ahead of themselves with males to keep them in check.
Many more rumours of this Kairos pack had reached Xol's ears such as there being a special rank dedicated to killing—serving a pack by killing was a new, and gladly welcomed, concept to the yellow-eyed necromaniac—and of their considerable empire, expanding three, four now apparently, territories. Having become a little obsessed with the concept of such a pack, he had already memorised three territories within their empire—Ina'mos, the heart of the pack, Vor'asa, some sort of training zone from what he had heard, and Acerbus, just another piece of land for the giants of Kairos. The fourth one, should it, of course, actually exist, could be a pleasant surprise, Xolotl decided.
Just before the trees lining the death-obsessed behemoth's vision, a strong scent of prey grabbed Xol's attention. After having spent so long stalking and killing prey in Kal'dyne, Xol instantly identified the mammal as a buck, and a healthy one at that. To most wolves, attempting to take down a buck without assistance was foolish, but size coupled with sheer strength was on the male's side.
Both natural and obtained muscles rippled under a multihued pelt as Xolotl pursued his deer victim, a delicious metallic tang already welling up in his kill-ready mouth. It was with not much struggle that the cold-hearted wolf could kill the buck, ending the prey's short but seemingly fulfilling, from how sizeable his corpse was, life.
The meal was deposited at Kairos' border—Acerbus' border, Xol knew, for he had taken the time to learn where all three of these territories were too—and deep-throated vocals promptly rang out across the claimed lands, rippling through the woods before Xolotl.
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