Join my Suffering [open]

[ryder]

Just another remedy

[/b]

“Oh goodness darlin’ what have you got yourself into? They are all dead darlin’, and its all because of you.”

“Shut up.”

"Whose gunna make me? Your mummy? Sorry Ryder, but mummy isn’t here to protect you anymore. Now tell me; whose fault is that?"

The thick, rotting stench of death clung to her nostrils, tainted with the haunting aroma of a wild brushfire. Even in her sleep she could still smell the smoke, the blinding vapor still torturing her tender eyes. The scrawny lupine rolled to one side, lips lifted into an automatic snarl as a memory from her past played in her sleep, continuing to drift between reality and dreams. Her ribs were exposed as she lay sprawled out, legs clawing the unyielding turf as if searching for an escape.

A massive brute, her exact age – as he was her brother, circled the suffering but indignant Ryder. Calling her darlin' was adding insult to injury, that had been her nickname among the pack as a pup - everyone's little angel. "Oh Darling, you did that perfectly" "Oh little darlin', you're the fastest pup i've ever seen" "lil' darlin'"...His eyes flashed with the cruelty that had been laid down to him since birth, his lips curled into an evil smile as he pleasured himself in torturing the maiden before him. A trio sat a few feet behind him, giggling and snickering as if on cue, their mocking eyes always on the bitch that now stood helpless and weak. As he continued to circle her he began to lash out with words first, bringing back memories no one had ever dared to stir. However as the time slowly dragged on they moved on to a more dangerous form of punishment, lunging in and attacking when she was unaware and exhausted. The four, enjoying her pain and suffering, ridiculed and wounded her until she broke-

With an angry yelp the scarlet wolfess was awake, the searing pain she had felt when they tore at her hide returning from many months ago. This dream, if you could call it that, happened every night she dared fall asleep. The blinding smoke, the screams of terror, and the pain that coursed through her body that never stopped. It was a plague that never left, no matter where her damned paws took her. The vile looking harlot blinked once, twice, then slowly scanned her surroundings. A furious scowl creased the femme’s features, as she lazily dragged her body from the hard, uncomfortable ground. With her fangs bared and body tense she scanned her surroundings, releasing a vicious growl to any who might hear it. Where the hell was she now? There were no signs of wolves here, in fact there was no sign of life other than the numerous lunatic flies. The cursed snorted to herself and continued walking, trying to ignore the sensation of the surroundings slowly closing in on her.

Stupendous. Terrific. From one hell right into another. What exactly, had she done to deserve this? Sure she had been a bitch. Sure she had broken a few hearts, screwed a few people over. But really, was all of that enough to condemn her to such a brutal fate? Her black, hollow, blood-shot eyes narrowed angrily, and her fangs revealed themselves once more as she moved along. Ryder didn’t deserve this, and there wasn’t a soul that could convince her otherwise. Stopping herself, she began to actually examine her surroundings. With a grunt she gathered all the information she knew, which was that she was very irritated, and that wasn't very much.

“Not so cocky now are you little darlin’. Not gunna spit on us now are you.”

Sitting down, she found that strangely all her energy had been drained. Then again when you lived the haunted shell of a life Ryder did it wasn’t surprising, but this was a fatigue even she was unaccustomed to. Frowning slightly she tried to work out in her head why she was here, or more exactly, where here was, but she could not fathom an answer. The once-dropdeadgoreous bitch glanced around herself with a sullen expression, a sigh hissing from her chest as she slowly accepted her fate. How bad could it get? She had already dealt with worse. The red female lay down quietly, muzzle upon her forelegs, and waited from something; for what she was not sure, but surely for something. Although sleep tugged at her consciousness once more she resisted savagely, refusing to be tormented by the dreams that forever disturbed her sleep. Instead she kept her black-tinged ears pricked and alert, all senses ready for anyone who intruded her space.

Grasses screaming out as soft, tentative steps trod over them. A single red aud swivels to catch the noise of some unknown creature’s passing. A pause, silence.

Ryder sits up slowly, unwillingly. Sitting, she turns her skull to scan the area. It was a huge plain, vast, endless. A white-tailed deer stood within sight of her, small enough in the distance she could raise a paw and cover it completely. It’d obviously just noticed her, and it stood stock still – staring, trying to decide if the scrawny wolf was worth losing a meal over. For some reason, the deer’s quizzical eyes on her made Ryder angry. Just months ago she wouldn’t have hesitated to stalk the prey, but she was positive she would never be able to take it down in her current state. She hadn’t tasted anything larger than a rabbit ever since…

She snarls savagely, pent-up frustration exploding in the single most terrifying sound she’d probably ever emitted. It was similar to the roar of a lion, rasping, cruel, fierce. The deer bolts instinctively, post-poning its meal until the frightening devil leaves the field. It had never seen anything quite like that red beast…

All is silent, not a bird’s song, not even a breeze to play with the grasses. A low growl rumbled from Ryder’s throat for the last time, then disappeared before the silence that pressed in and consumed the world Ryder had just been brought into...

{ooc}
Status: unfinished finished
Word Count: 1084
Mood: Extremely irritable, hungry, hopeless, and slightly confused (lost)
{/ooc}[/blockquote][/size]

[alastor]

The scent of lovely wildflowers couldn’t hide the odor of a sickly she-wolf lurking within the grass. Her growls only helped the hunter pin point her exact location as his gray belly glided across the meadow. Blood-shot eyes could see the outline of his red prey in the distance and he quite doubted she was able to see him. The mercenary, paid by his meals, hadn’t made a single misstep while watching this beautiful delicacy sleep. He had actually gotten to this position while she mumbled and rolled, a malicious crooked smile crossing his face every time she appeared to be in pain. The whole scene had made his heart rate race instantly as she got to the climax of her dream. Her heartbeat was so harmonious like songbirds singing at daybreak. Music to his ears.

A hot fire was building up inside the hunter, causing his growing smile to drop into a frown. The feeling was absolutely painful as if another was constantly stabbing him into the stomach and ripping his internals into shreds. The throbbing couldn’t be noticed on his outward expression, but inside chaos was unfolding. His mind was screaming in everlasting pain, pushing him to pounce on the defenseless she-wolf. ‘Kill the bitch! Kill the bitch!’ it chanted, it’s words a vicious hiss. Muscles were tensing, heart rate continued to jump in alarming rate, and saliva was excessively dripping from his already foaming mouth. As the dame got up and looked around his eyes unblinkingly watched every movement. The smallest twitch wouldn’t escape his perfect vision.

His prey turned her head to the side in annoyance and unwillingly he followed her gaze. For a second he thought his heart had skipped a beat when the aroma of a deer rushed into his nostrils, nearly compelling him to sneeze. It stood to his right, perhaps about twelve feet away. He nearly cursed out loud as she growled at it, forcing it to run straight towards him at a fast pace. The deer didn’t frighten him or foil his plans of attacking his prey. No. It simply had become to new victim. What dog didn’t like to attack a running object? Especially when it was jumping right into your lap.

Like a cat he continued to lay on the ground, watching as the space between him and the deer began to deteriorate. The wind was on his side today, blowing towards him, so it was unlikely the deer would catch wind of him till the last 5 feet. Once six feet had vanished he rose from the ground in a jolt and dashed straight towards the large creature. His great speed benefited him here as well as this surprise attack on the deer. As he launched at the deer, paws out to push it over and jaws open ready to snap on it’s throat, the deer had tried it’s best to make a sharp turn only to fail miserably. A thud was made as the body tumbled over with Alastor’s weight on top of it. A split second later he bit down into it’s jugular and instead of holding onto it, completely ripped it out. Blood sprayed everywhere, on the fresh carcass and across his face and chest. There were a few more twitches from the dying deer before it passed on.

A lash of his pink tongue that now hung out as he panted lightly cleaned the blood on his snout. The heavy breathing was more out of excitement rather than out of being tired from his successful attack. His head moved towards the belly and rapidly he ripped it open with his razor sharp teeth in one smooth motion. Every part of the carcass would be eaten, the skin, the eyes, and as much of the bones as he could eat. His fast metabolism couldn’t simply survive off a small leg or just the chest. He needed the whole body in order to not go hungry for at least two days. Killing that happened between that time would be out of pure enjoyment.

Sticking his head in he ripped out of one intestine to begin his meal. For a few seconds he shook the meat around by shaking his head back and forth. Devouring them with amazing speed he moved onto another part of the body before deciding that this pick and choose process was too slow. It was easier to eat whatever was in front of his snout. The burning fire inside of him was beginning to cool and the chanting got quieter and quieter. The innocent grass around the cadaver was soon coated with blood and so was the upper part of Alastor’s body. If he wanted he could roll in this blood and maybe be a red as the female that he originally wanted to kill.

The thought of the female hadn’t crossed his mind, till now. Brown eyes glared upward in a muted form of warning. Growling or barking something at her would cause him to stop and open his already busy mouth. He couldn’t waste such precious time getting out a proper threat.

About twenty minutes passed and most of remains he had left would be indefinable for any stranger. With only the small scrapes left on the bones he shifted into a more comfortable laying position and held a bone with his front legs as he gnawed on it. As his belly was filling his mind became more mellow, but never enough to make him more predictable.

[ryder]

”Well actually i think i will.”

With a snarl the small temptress lunged at her tormentor, a savage snarl ripping from her throat. In order to defy his newly acquired arrogance she spat in his eyes when she neared, and fell limply upon his back with fangs bared. Before she could tear into his hide though, the females who had been watching as an audience behind him howled with excitement, then lunged into the fight with a taste of blood.

My memories; sweet as candy. The thought made her smirk accordingly, her eyes glinting as she enjoyed her own sadistic humor. Her small, thin tail slowly trailed across the firm turf as she sat patiently, waiting for whom she did not know. Soon seconds turned into minutes, and minutes dragged into more minutes, until Ryder became cramped and her mood turned foul. Obviously there was nothing in this g*dda mn place that would approach her, so she would just get up and find something to occupy her time herself. What she would do when she found a toy; well that was still to be decided. Boredom forced Ryder to move, but as she did so her muscles clenched and her body complained. With a grumble the dame stretched, her forelegs slip slowly forward, savoring the feeling of her stringy muscles stretching throughout her form. When satisfied she rose to her full height and began padding across the field. A red frame slinking over the grasses, like a scar on the face of the earth – like blood trickling down nature’s façade. Because that’s what she is, unsightly, unfortunate, despised. And utterly alone.

She moved at a lazy pace, her paws scuffing the terrafirm. Suddenly a ruckus of sounds echoed through her thorns. In the direction of the buck she’d scared off earlier, a sudden snarl – a snap, a liquid hiss.. something had brought down the prey she could not. The struggle was fiercely loud and abrasive compared to the somewhat gentle sounds only moments before - it pained her ears, causing another vicious snarl to rise automatically from her throat. Who the hell was here?

Shaking her head in an irritable fashion, she chased the thoughts away and focused upon the new scents that had drifted into her nostrils. Her pace quickens

Fresh meat. Everything was bathed in glorious blood. It was even hard to tell that the prey was a deer, and impossible from this distance to discern what creature had made the deer a meal. Drawn by the smell, forgetting caution. Her stomach feels tighter than before, the sad lack of substantial food more evident now in the pangs she was enduring. And besides the prey, there was the predator. It had been too long since Ryder had been able to play with another, escape her past, and torment others for a change. What wild fun the two of them would have! A malicious grin formed upon the red contessa's features as she raises her nares to catch the smells, savoring the rusty, salty blood. She smells the killer, but comes into his view anyway - watching his initial reaction to her. She would take a chance of him attacking her, as it was assumable to be low as he had a big fat buck to satisfy himself with.

Ryder sits roughly on her haunches, blankly observing the male. She sat far enough away that immediate escape would be possible, but it wasn’t like she could outrun him for long. But she wasn’t even worth it, the scraggly skeleton that called herself a wolf. She had practically no meat on her, just a red scarred pelt draped over bones. But still she sits, and she observes his attributes, memorizes his scent for easy recall if the need arose. The way the male gorged himself on the prey startled Ryder. He didn’t look on the brink of starvation, though he ate like it.

The femme watched him coyly, wondering if he was as tough as he wanted her to think he was. Her eyes remained unblinking as she stared at the brute, studying his build and looking for any weakness. Tilting her head slightly, she watched. In all honesty, it was creepy. She was as still as a statue – with an aurora of something dark, and stagnant pools that reflect hatred openly.

She loathed that he could sit here and eat this meat, this meat that she longed for – painfully. Her whole body ached with restraint, how badly she wanted to lunge at him and take it for herself. It wouldn’t have been a problem some short months ago, but now – she blinks, effectively clearing her mind, and seemingly making her first movement since sitting down. She was like a haunted phantom, watching…

Looking at the other wolf makes her skin crawl slightly. She hadn’t seen her own kind in quite some time. By her own choice, of course. But here she’d come – straight up to another wolf. Amazing the things fresh meat could do to a partially emaciated creature. She’d seen low ranking wolves crawl on their stomachs, jaw on the ground, toward a superior wolf – in order to get some meat. But even in her current state she’d never reduce herself to such a thing, others crawled to her. Hate to break it to you Ry but nobody will be crawling to you anymore.

The brute looks up at her, his mouth occupied and so a glare sent her way. A warning. Her legs tremble with the effort it takes to hold back – how she longs to rush onto him, spit in his face, and steal some of that delicious meat… that aroma…

Her mind is distracted, and the brute returns unworried to his meal. Obviously he could tell she was no threat, she was like a scavenger. Pathetic. She considers leaving, but what dignity did she have that she was compelled to save? None, that’s what. And wouldn’t it be worth it if there was but a shred of venison left on those bones…… She sits, her eyes slowly trailing from the brute to the carcass and back. Again and again.

He is ignoring her, settling down and starting to gnaw a bone. She considers slowly approaching and trying to obtain some of the unworldly appealing sustenance. Patience, Ryder…

{ooc}
Status: unfinished finished
Word Count: 1080
Mood: desperate, starving, mildly cautious
{/ooc}

[alastor]

Shark like teeth easily broke through the bones of the deer as if they were paper. Speed was a great advantage when it came to feasting on a kill. If you were too slow scavengers, like this red female, would try to chase you off your own picnic. Then again, he rarely had that problem of others trying to steal his meals. The female in front of him was a good distance away to be safe. Approaching any closer than she already was would be a death sentence. He gave no mercy to those who dared try to take away his meat. On occasions he did let them walk away only with a scratched up face or a big chunk of their hid ripped off. Of course, that was only because it was amusing to see them tumble and fall over their own paws as they raced away.

The marrow was rapidly torn out of each bone before he decided there was nothing else to claim. He had eaten pretty much everything white clean, so it would be a miracle if the female found anything remaining. Unlike many other wolves eating to him was an art. You just couldn’t grab a piece of a corpse and leave a few scrapes behind because they were difficult to get to. No, he ate the whole thing. It was a lot like a compulsive disorder to just inhale everything in his path.

When he finished he didn’t bother to lick the blood that now tainted his gray coat. He actually envied the female ahead of him for her lovely colored coat that reminded him of crimson. His gray one was colored with various brown and golds, but it lost a little of its appeal when many sections were hairless and scars left awful looking marks behind. He was no beauty queen, yet he couldn’t help to want what she had. The red described his personality and it was his favorite color in the world. It could even describe his purpose in life if he wanted to get deep about it.

By crouching down his jump over the sharp remains was clean and the beast landed rather gracefully on the other side. Like the deer, the room between the two wolves was disintegrating. He took a few more steps before coming to a dead stop and lowering his head so he could study the scavenging crow. More foam dripped out of his mouth in globs as he studied her with his blood-shot eyes. Now that his belly was content he could do whatever he wanted to entertain himself. What would be more entertaining than ripping off that beautiful pelt this unworthy bang of bones was wearing?

Nothing left his lips as he took a step to his right to let the female pass and search for the meat she longed for. He’d spring when her back was turned or when she wasn’t paying attention. There was no honor in that kind of attack, but Alastor was nowhere near noble. “Go ahead, Raven.” he finally whispered, his low voice monotone as spit flung out of his mouth. Hopefully this wolf would be a stupid little mouse like everyone else who was hungry for the fruits of life. Then he could snap his trap and add another body to this beautiful meadow. If he played his cards right he could coat this whole area with red. Its peacefulness bothered him and there was no law against painting the world with blood.


(( I have no muse today. x.x ))

[ryder]

( (if that’s you with no muse… -breaks off into awed silence- =] ) )
Ryder watches in agony as he slurps up every single edible scrap – even sucking the marrow from each bone. Her stagnant pools show minimal interest, putting on a show when they both knew what she was about. She’s trembling slightly, but knows instinctively self-control is vital. She’s never done something like this before, and never imagined she’d be reduced to this. She watches as his beady eyes trail over her body, and feels rage burning in the pit of her stomach. didn’t your mum ever tell you it’s rude to stare! she wanted to hiss at him, but of course she restrains herself. No need to be mouthing off to this brute just yet, for all she knew he was still hungry. He’d practically inhaled that entire deer and she feels hyper-aware of her surroundings and his movements, her senses heightened by adrenaline.

He lunges over the deer – or at least the picked clean bones, effectively bringing himself nearer to her – and she doesn’t miss the evil intent in his eyes. She would have been intrigued by his apparent darkness, his never-ending hunger, his secretive eyes. Would have, back when she herself was the same.

With a flick of her ears and a twitch of her lip her expression became fierce, crouching in defense as the newcomer invaded her space. Lunging back she let a low growl vibrate from her vocal cords, eyeing his expression and intriguing eyes. Who is this bastard? Ryder was not answered as instead the male spoke something about a Raven, then looked expectantly at the snarling female before him. Ryder’s hollow, black eyes scanned the stranger thoroughly before she relaxed a little, a slow smirk replacing her angered snarl. She snorts in reply to his words, no longer able to resist sliding in a smart-alecky comment. If he decided it was worth the trouble to kill her, she would welcome death. She was already in a living hell, being dead would probably be an improvement. At least she wouldn’t have to watch bastards like him gorge themselves right in front of starving females like herself.

Raven?. she sneers, pools flashing at some inner joke as she continues That’s a new one.. her tainted tones trail off, as if reflecting on it when in reality she’d locked eyes on him and was weighing her odds. How far could she push him before it was too much? He looked pretty unstable, foaming at the mouth, crusted blood marring his otherwise fairly generic features. Hah, but who is Ryder to criticize someone else’s appearances – take a look at yourself, darling, you’re no fairytale princess. Underneath the scars, the irregular lumps, the luster-less pelt – yes, there was a beautiful wolf. A breathtaking, stunning, beyond comparison wolf. Her scarlet pelt had been her crowning glory, her pride. But look at it now, this raggedy assortment that can barely be considered fur. But enough about her looks.

since you apparently know me, it’s only fair that I should be deigned upon to learn your name as well she adds, sarcasm reeking through her tones. She wasn’t a charmer – not anymore. She’d forgotten her old life, her heaven-on-earth when she could have whatever she wanted whenever she wanted it. When males had drooled over her. She’d forced those memories away, trained herself to never remember how perfect her life had been before- NO, she built up her wall in her mind brick by brick, forcing the memories at bay.

A spark of amusement seems to shade his pools, and she wonders what she’d done to please him (little did she know he’s imagining painting the whole meadow in blood, namely, hers). Surely she wasn’t exactly being charming in any way. She was making little effort at manners, but self control was definitely taking a toll on her. She had to focus so hard not to just attack the bastard – but she knew in her current state she’d be no match anyway. Even before the tragedy that’d eternally scarred her appearance and health, she probably wouldn’t have been a match for the warlusty lupe before her. A sigh of mixed contempt and frustration is barely held in, the only outward indicator of this being a slight inhalation of breath that was exhaled slowly and calmly...

Calmed down, she lets loose another comment – determined if she was going to hell to do it thoroughly. She wanted to have a little fun with him before he repeated the process with the deer – once again, not like it’d be worth it. It seemed inevitable, with the way he openly looked at her like a piece of meat. In fact his odd gaze made her skin crawl further, as if the fact that she was within plain sight of a fellow wolf wasn’t traumatizing enough for her.

Her head cocks and she finishes or I could give you an adorable nickname as well – I feel like we’re such good friends already! her tones are bitter, cynical, openly venomous. Ryder needs to calm down, or that death wish will become a reality faster than she can throw out one of her always-ready-insults.

Someone’s having a good day, heck it might even top the deer’s!

{ooc}Status: incomplete complete
Word Count: 950
Mood: sarcastic, testing, hungry{/ooc}

[alastor]

Alastor had no respect for females at all. They were simply tools of pleasure and a means to reproduce. If he wanted to be even broader they existed to make the male happy and in his case they made him happy by easily being devoured. Males put up such a fight with their scratching and biting. Ladies, on the other hand, usually just ran from him or begged for mercy. Unfortunately, both this means to escape were futile. All they did was trigger his mind to want to kill them more. A runner was a lovely challenge and a beggar just needed to be put out of their misery. Usually females were a lot smaller too, so they were much easier to pin down and rip into pieces. Numerous times he’d tear a limb out of a socket, watch them try to walk away, and then pull out another limp. He’d continue this until they die. It was obvious that he was a sadist, enjoying everyone else’s pain. Killing people had just became an exciting hobby of his, giving him an adrenaline rush that no other experience could compare too.

He wasn’t stunned or surprised by her reaction to him. It wasn’t odd for someone to immediately go into a defensive position and growl in his face. Actually that reaction only added on to his pride and dominance. No one could imagine how lovely it felt for others to be so frightened of you that they’d attack and ask questions later. His lips lifted showing both rows of teeth in an eccentric smile. He was going to enjoy this.

To his disappointment, his trap that he had made was unsuccessful. The bitch was a lot smarter then she looked. She must have not been starving enough to run towards the food or be so delusional to assume he wasn’t a threat. Whatever. He could go to the quick approach of just pouncing on her. It wouldn’t be impractical to think she would put up less of a fight than that deer had. Her body was probably thriving off her muscles now because any other means of energy had wasted away long ago. That meant she wouldn’t have much strength to fight him off. Again, he was disappointed at that thought. When others spilled his blood it just made the experience so much more pleasurable. If she just fell over with a push of his paw, where was the fun in that?

What jabbed him to rethink letting her go was her outburst at him. No person could miss the sarcasm and venom in her words as she tried to shoot them at him like knives. His grin grew at those words, wondering where this sudden cockiness had come from. Then deep within his chest a laugh erupted out of his lips. It wasn’t the classic jolly or bell like laugh that many wolves had. His was low and thunderous, and how it dragged on made it sound insane. “Friends,” he spat out, “You don’t want to be my friend, sweetie.” He again laughed shaking his head at those ridiculous words.

“You know what I do with my friends, Raven?” he said, curiosity appearing on his face. He paused for a few seconds to let her gears turn, and during that period turned his body so she was facing his side. Then silently he began to circle her, his tail waving behind him like a banner. Head remained turned towards her and that crazy smile remained etched on his face. For a split second he stopped his circling next to her right side and answered his own question. “I eat them,” he hissed under his breath.

It was true. He devoured all the people that wanted to become allies with the monster in their sleep. For a while he’d continue to play along with their little friendship, especially if they offered him food or power. Usually people made deals with him because he looked like a very good bodyguard or easily controlled puppet. After all, his senses were more keen them most wolves. Humans had made him into a killing machine. The second these ‘friends’ stopped supplying him what he demanded he wouldn’t be a sweet little follower anymore. Without warning he’d kill them in their sleep and consume every part of their bodies. Sometimes if he was bored he ripped them apart when they were still alive, hissing in their ears why they deserved what they were getting.

“Do you still want to know my name, Raven?” he chimed as he continued to stand where he was. “Cause once you hear it, you won’t be able to avoid being one of my friends. I don’t tell random strangers any personal information about myself.” His head tilted to the side and his eyes flashed with glints of malice again.

[ryder]

She held viciously to his spine, but the females' torture was unrelenting and quickly the pain of their unmerciful onslaught drove her away from him. Rasping breaths coming in short excruciating gasps - head held low in a futile attempt to guard her most vital vein - eyes clouding over...

The bloodstained hollows reply to your presence with only an empty amount of expression. What more do you pray for? What more do you want from her? She'll tug you into those pearly whites just to be sputtered back to the surface as a ragged nothing.

You seem wrong in a way in her opticals; she won't acknowledge your presence with any hint of manners. Don't take the rude gestures to your tenderized heart. The red duchess only is trying to give herself protection from harm. Something that seems to be an obstacle the femme has struggle avoiding. Being..in harm's way.

The female had had a dose of major damage through her life and had been abused physically and emotionally. Nobody had ever put any glimpse of faith into her. She'd been evil throughout her whole existence; her ways had been unwavering and unbearable. Consequence? A punishment no one should deserve. No one. Results? She does not trust. Ever.

This scarlet bitch can be Satan's daughter when her cruelty is coaxed to be released. Death will be written on her expressions and the never ending hell will erupt in her atmosphere. This one...is one that can get her bloody feathers ruffled in the wrong place. Pits of hellish flames will blaze in those malicious, yet lost, dark pools.

This twilight flower is not like most. She is very much different from another fur-like mammal as herself. Although, the reason she may being separated from average is because her past was not average. It made her strong inside and weaker on the out, she could deal with situations that most couldn't. You can't assist her in something she is determined to do herself. You shall try but success for your efforts are less than dim.

Speed. A bullet she is but the quickness of her paws will leave no after sound. You won't even hear the bang of the gun before this bullet is released amongst the raging heights of wondrous momentum. The maid will run. Run away from her problems for only a second. A mere second in the ticking clock called life. One ounce of freedom to thrive on before having it taken away to being rushed with every wrong emotion. With every problem and terrifying flashback. With every limitation of her horrendous, cursed, corpse. She'll try to get away. But she can't. She's imprisoned within her mind’s shackles, and her body’s limitations. Locked to her personal hell-on-earth. What remains of her heart will never be set free from its barriers.

'Give up, darling, its over,' the brute had said - his voice still rung harsh and evil as ever in her mind.

'and then what, bow down to the likes of you? take orders from the inferior-...[she'd had her breath knocked from her and been knocked off her feet as one of the three females had viciously collided into her ribs] ..never' she managed, spitting it at him, along with a spray of blood, in spiteful rebuttal

Ryder gasps suddenly, nearly falling to the ground as her vivid memories continued to wreak havoc on her mind. She catches herself, eyes looking defiantly at the brute as he began to circle her. If this was how it was going to be, he would have some sweet memories of the stranger he’d murdered in cold blood. He did not need sustenance; she knew that for a fact. But he also had no idea who he was messing with, as obviously all the rumors that’d spread like wildfire in her old life hadn’t reached his revolting ears yet. Perhaps they never would, maybe by coming to this island that unforgiving and relentless fire had it’s spread hindered, or halted completely. She was nothing more than a story told to frighten pups into obedience in her old lands, and here she was anonymous, insignificant. Free.

The reason for her spite was, it wasn't directed at him but at herself. She could tell she was beginning to actually feel connected with this male, as disgusted as she was by his gluttonous behavior - she was intruiged, wanting to know what made him tick, how had he come to be like this? Ryder is slightly shocked by the amount of interest she was showing in this insignificant male, why did she want to know his story? Because it probably was common with hers. They were friends, allies fighting against the same enemies. Themselves. But these thoughts of something shared were dangerous. She couldn’t insinuate to make alliances. No attachments – absolutely no friends. That was the way she'd always lived, companions always turned on you in the end- always. But she didn’t want to fight this, as yet unnamed, brute – simply wanted him to go on his way so she wouldn’t have to fight herself any more than she had to, and so she could peruse the remains for something – anything. She would settle for licking the blood off the surrounding area, so desperate was this hunger.

His smile catches her off guard, once again amused by something. How childlike, thinking it’s amusing to make fun of the unfortunate – to mock those who are different. Her eyes widen, and she feels like he’d lunged in and stabbed her chest – when he was still circling her and grinning like a maniacal merry-go-round – as she realizes. That was her, taunting and flaunting. And look where it got her. Not only does she feel something acidic flare up in her stomach at this thought, but she feels incredibly old. As if she was the old generation, and others were just tolerating her existence to learn from her – to look at her. Because that’s why she’d been avoiding all other wolves for countless seasons – they stared, asked questions. Or if they already had heard the rumors then they glared, or fled, or shrunk away in revulsion.
at that he'd lunged at her already tortured and ragged corpse - her body clinging stubbornly to life when any other wolf would have relented and died already. She'd caused herself to hang on - to continue suffering... why?
. i]“Friends,”

[/i] his voice is abrasive to her ears and she flinches slightly at the noise – snapping back from her torture chamber of a mind “You don’t want to be my friend, sweetie.” He laughed and Ryder couldn’t stop a low growl exploding from her chest at the word ‘sweetie’. That was too close to the jackpot word, the word that would cause her to lunge uncontrollably at him, fangs flashing and eyes blazing with bloodlust stirred up from so long ago. The word that her own brother had used repeatedly while torturing her, destroying her.

“You know what I do with my friends, Raven?” he continues, mocking her and making her head ache with the effort to hold back the memories. This had all happened before, the taunting is only the beginning. Only difference is she has no idea who this male was when the previous time had been her own kin, and there’d been an audience – her pack, her ’friends. “I eat them,” he hissed, stopping his deranged circles for a moment – dramatic effect? She mentally scoffs, but her features stay acutely blank – holding back anger and pain, not giving him any more satisfaction than he was already having.

“Do you still want to know my name, Raven?” he chimed as he continued to stand where he was. “Cause once you hear it, you won’t be able to avoid being one of my friends. I don’t tell random strangers any personal information about myself.” His head tilted to the side and his eyes flashed with glints of malice again. Ryder turns her head to look at him full-on. Her eyes should send shivers down any creatures spine; so full of suffering, malice, darkness, hatred, betrayal, brokenness, evil. They reflect the cruelty of the world, those stagnant red pools, and they are directed straight at him – piercing through him as if attempting to pin him down with the sheer unnatural force of them. Please do share she urges in a monotone – requesting his name and all the ‘punishments’ that came with it. She was determined to show no emotion, to study him and in return be studied – but she was always the victor in mental games. Where he outmatched her easily physically, her mind is riddled and twisted, cunning. If it was a game of wits, it could go either way, if it was a physical challenge the outcome was inevitable. Either way, Ryder had chosen this path, and she always follows through.

{occ}Status: unfinished finished
Word Count: 1568
Mood: complicated{/ooc}
[/blockquote][/size]

[alastor]

Sheer defeat lingered on his expression when she answered his question with the ‘wrong’ choice. A snort blew out of his nose at her lack of enthusiasm. Already he could tell she wasn’t going to be any fun. Most wolves shivered when they were around him or winced at even the sight of such a disgusting beast. Now, this female barely reacted to him anymore. What a displeasure. He gave her so much drama that she had gradually become immune to his abnormal behavior. Fear is what he thrived on. Without it he lost interest in his games and began packing it in. There was no use playing with and old worn out doll if it bore you. It is easier to throw it away and get a new one. It wasn’t like dolls weren’t plentiful, these days. Children and adults were so content with their petty perfect lives they thought nothing could ruin it. Unlike this female, they were naïve to violence. Naïve to creatures that make their blood turn cold. Alastor believed it was his duty to corrupt these few innocent wolves and rock their minds till they became paranoid to every sound. Raven had already met her corrupter. He was too late.

As her eyes flashed into Alastor’s eyes a rare twitch could be seen. Not out of fear, but as voices suddenly filling his head. Screams of various test animals shook his mind; all gradually dying from the inside out and begging god to just take them away. Let them move on. Alastor had briskly learned in that cold dark place that no god could hear you. He was too busy making other families lives more perfect to bother with trash and chaos his beloved humans were making. Memories of animals tearing at their own legs, thinking it was only way to escape, haunted his skull one after another. Then the syringe to form in his mind, the feeling of the cool needle going into his skin and it’s liquid rapidly flowing through his veins. Those harsh hands. As a child he had always had nightmares of the hands holding him down on the stained table, millions and millions of them not letting him get up. Fighting was useless with those hands. If you chopped one off three more took its place, covering your body, ripping at your hair, until there was nothing but the feeling of them digging their nails into your flesh. Like being covered by millions of maggots and being eaten alive. It wasn’t strange after those nightmares he’d wake up whining and groveling in pain. All that torture had made his mind snap, along with the chemicals that did their handy work taking stabs at his brain.

He didn’t look away from her eyes though. Never would he be the first one to look away, or even blink in such a challenge. Instead he mirrored back his own experiences, letting her chew on that fat as she tried to dissect what made him the way he was. His lip lifted again in a snarl, wanting to refuse to tell her his name, but he drew back from hurting her just yet. Now that she provided little entertainment by her emotions towards him, maybe she’d be able to make up for it by intriguing him with her clever thinking. He himself lacked the mental capacity. He’d never try beating her in a mind battle, knowing he’d fail miserably. All he could do was taunt and insult and follow his instincts. Right now those instincts weren’t saying much. He had eaten and was not threatened. For these brief few minutes or potentially even hours they’d give him some free will. If giving him a little leash became a problem his instincts heeled him back in.

Hair bristled all over his body as he stared at her, wondering if she truly wanted to die. Those memories that now have been quelled like a burning fire had reminded him it wasn’t a strange desire. Many tested playing with death for the excitement. Others had nothing to motivate them anymore, so they thought what is the hell with living. The animals being experimented on in the labs had been tortured by the humans, calling to friend death for their last hope of peace. This brought up another mental conflict in Alastor. He only killed those who didn’t want to die. It brought more torture and fear into the world. Those who came to it with open arms were more agonized being alive. He would never kill a person that possibly could leave this world with a smile on their face. A chill went through him while pondering about that, yet he didn’t shiver or break his stone composure.

“Alastor.” He growled, but with less anger. After his name his eyes dropped, forgetting about his little game. For once he was lost and didn’t care about showing this small vulnerability. Just by looking away didn’t mean he couldn’t punish those who mocked him for it. Easily he could return to that vicious hungry cannibal state in one large mood swing. Red eyes searched at the grass as if he had lost something within the bundle of green and flowers. In truth, he didn’t know what to do now. His mind was fighting itself and he began to regret confronting her. It seemed they both were giving each other terrible migraines.

Many wolves thought such a creature like Alastor was amusing. He had all the power in the world, yet didn’t know how to use it to his own benefit. Physically he could shred anyone into pieces, but he didn’t use those brawns to make a name for himself or conquer terrain. He lacks the brainpower to do any of that. His life revolves solely around himself and what at this very second makes him happy. Things like the future never really click in his mind.

[ryder]

Sunlight filtered tranquilly to earth, reaching its bright fingers down to caress the seemingly unending Chamoru Plains. A breeze sent the grasses rustling, causing them to flutter and dance and sing. A songbird twittered peacefully somewhere in the distance, the picture of calm, until one noticed the two predators locked in a stare that meant nothing and everything. An intense, yet destroyed looking, female glares back just as fiercely, if not more, than the larger adversary. The competitor, a brute, was laughably larger – maw stained in fresh blood. It was a sight to send chills up any unfortunate bystanders’ spine – their world poised on a knife point. Every movement was delicate, neither knowing how far to push, at what point the other might snap. A stare that revealed nothing, and everything. The scarlet stained contessa’s eyes reflecting the cruelty of her kind, the brute’s the cruelty of man. Both pairs of eyes stared, as if trying to show the other their pasts – their histories that were similar in more ways than one. Stared until a shared muteness is broken by one word. A single group of letters that held such significance, a name. Alastor. It was growled, but noticeably less aggressive

Ryder notices something about him seems resolved, as if he no longer cared much about her presence there – and she mildly wonders if it’d be safe now to attempt at that venison carcass… His pelt bristles as he snorts and twitches and she decides against it.

Even though Alastor had given his name, Ryder felt no obligation to do the same. Let him call her Raven if he wanted, it was by far preferable to the other nicknames she’d been saddles with in the past. Besides, passing her name around meant passing a reputation around -and the last thing she wanted was another reputation, more rumors, eventually only more hate.

The weather was a comical, in a dark king of way, opposite to Ryder’s mood. If her mind controlled the weather it would be endless night 0 and a cruel inescapable winter, barren of life or warmth. But of course she had no influence over the weather, and so she ignores it. Ignores the infuriating noise of a bird, ignores the warm sun on her scarred back, ignores the wind that pries into her ragged pelt. The wind blows the brute’s – Alastor’s – scent to her quivering nares, dry and cracked though they were, still sensitive, gathering information on him to be stored for possible later use. The weather was in her favor for now, but winds are infamous for their fickle ways.

A yawn is emitted, jaws gaping, tongue lolling, then mouth is shut once more with an audible snap. Eyes are averted from Alastor, though the brute would never know this as his eyes were glues to the ground as if it held all the answers, or if he sensed the weight of her glare lifted. She lets her stricken gaze instead wander aimlessly over the vast lands, letting sadness wash over her for a moment as she thinks…thinks about….everything.

Alastor…

Ryder hears the name murmured, but it takes her a moment to realize it was she who’d spoken. She looks at him, carelessly, to see if he’d heard – bringing her eyes to meet him in a manner that suggested it’d been him who’d spoken her name, and she was simply making eye contact as a knee-jerk reaction, already having decided not to answer. What was going on in her head…?

{ooc}
Status: unfinished finished
Word Count: 625
Mood: distracted, cold
{/ooc}

[alastor]

Brown eyes shook left to right across the meadow ground, looking more deeply into every blade of grass than anyone could ever imagine. He had no idea what to do. Wolves like Raven weren’t unusual, but it was rare that he’d confront one that didn’t have a loved one in the entire world. Those who wished to die at least had one sister or one friend that tried to restart the flame that burned inside every wolf. Raven, on the other hand, had no one to mend to her dying blaze. She was alone and kissed by the universe’s darkness.

Alastor’s muscles squirmed under his skin, as he looked up at the female, deaf to her mention of his name. He didn’t feel the wind against his skin, he didn’t feel the sunlight warm his fur, and he didn’t hear the songbirds in the distance. Everything was being blocked out as he focused on her, trying to resolve this obstacle, this problem, that had shoved its way in front of his path. He was in his own little bubble, his eyes continuing to tremble, as they looked at her in a calculating stare. He no longer had any traces of anger on his face; it was more like he complexly was at a tug-of-war with himself. ‘Kill her, don’t kill her… Kill her, don’t kill her.’ he kept thinking over and over again. His desire to hurt and bring pain was picking the petals that wished to kill her. The side that thought she wanted death to come yanked the petals that didn’t want to kill her. This ugly daisy was being ripped of it’s petals over and over and over again. Alastor was getting worried that there would be too many petals for him to ever make a decision in his lifetime.

The male made his first movements in the long minutes that ticked on by, which was a step closer to her. He needed to try direct action. If he put his body and his mind on the spot all at once, maybe they both could come to an agreement. Ears pinned against his skull and he took another step closer to the female, one paw over the other. Tail completely lowered and muscles tightened, and his stare was soon glazed over by a white mist. He was completely letting himself go to his insaneness. He needed to figure out what he should do, and the best way in his opinion was let everything come to place on his own. The slow pace was quickly sped up, and his large strides made him in front of her in seconds. Raising his paw he went to slash at her face, and if she decided to turn and run he probably hit her side or back…

If he had continued the movement of his paw… Instead he found himself frozen, his paw in mid air, and his whole body completely stiff. It was an odd feeling being held back like a puppet on strings. Never had he been put into a situation like this before or stopped in his attack like he had just been turned into stone by her gaze. Even crazy something in the back of his mind couldn’t kill her. Not now at least, when she had nothing to live for. The paw lowered to the ground and a growl escaped his lips, yet he accepted this decision. Eyes returned to their normal color and the growling diminished slowly. Instead he frowned and turned his back to the female, knowing he couldn’t do anything to her right now. Maybe in a month she’d have some desire or goal in life that she wanted to achieve. When that happened he knew nothing would stop him from gorging on her carcass.

ooc;
Word Count: 632
Mood: Looking forward to the future, slightly frustrated

Sorry that was lame and took so long.

[ithy]

Eyes filled with frantic fear and terror, Ithyph crossed the border from Zahir's territory to the unclaimable, loners lands. This mere though terrified her; who knew what kinds of wolves called this place home? At least on the pack's lands, she was protected from any potential harm by her packmates. Out here, she was exposed and prone to injury, as this was in her nature. Everything about bad timing happened to her; when things couldn't possibly get any worse, they did. She was going to run into something bad. She just knew it.

The eminent destruction from the volcano, coupled with her fear of change and instability, was forcing her to thing of the worst case scenarios. In truth, she didn't know whether her feelings were well founded or not. Either way, she didn't want to take a chance and expose herself to the dangers of the world. Those wolves aren't nice. They won't be nice to someone like me, she thought nervously, slowly her movement to a gentle trot as she check her surroundings for anything suspicious.

Optimistic thinking, you retard! She growled under her breath, reprimanding herself for being such a pessimist. I mean, seriously. What could really be out here? It's not like this field is going to be teeming with wolves, just waiting to pop up and.. She gulped; her "optimistic" thinking had just freaked her out even more. She jerked her head wildly, once more searching the grasses for any signs of movement that would alert her to the presence of other wolves. She could not smell anything or anyone, but right now, her mind had taken over. She was already thrown into a state of panic from the volcano; now, adding a false sense of security and an overactive imagination was causing her to spazz. It was a pivotal moment for her. She'd never truly done anything by herself, and now here she was, wandering in a big open field. It wouldn't seem like much to any other wolf, but baby steps were like the steps of a giant for Ithyph. She could not handle the smallest pieces of reality in an instant. Things needed to be taken slowly and steadily or else she lost control.

If anything bad was going to happen, she assured herself, at least Alya would be following right behind. I hope Kaoru and Isolde got away from there, she thought anxiously, turning around momentarily to stare at the volcano from a distance. She could see the slightest bits of lava starting to flow down the sides of the volcano, and the ash from the eruption had started to rain down even where she was. Sputtering and coughing in an attempt to free her lungs of the wretched material, Ithyph took off at a steady gallop, distancing herself from the land as much as possible. She could still see the land, of course, so she would be fine. Just fine...

Thunk! Ithyph felt herself trip over her paws as she ran into something. No... Someone! She gulped, taking her time to look up at whoever she'd just run into. Shaking with fear and anxiety, she carefully staggered to her paws once more, backing away as much as her legs would carry her before she froze up in absolute fear. Even her mind momentarily stopped working as a cold sweat soaked her fur. All she could do was stand there and stare helplessly at the very unfriendly brute she had just plowed into and the creepy-looking, similarly unfriendly femme that stood nearby. All she could do was stand there and gape like a moron; she knew something bad was going to happen, yet she continued to reassure herself. If for once she had succumbed to her inner pessimist, she would not be in this situation...

Ithyph slowly regained mental functionality as she jerked her head backwards quickly to see if Alya had magically appeared behind her. Sadly, no other wolves were around. Just great, she thought dryly, carefully prying one paw from the ground in an attempt to turn and run. But something kept her from doing that; she didn't know what it was. Whether it was fear or a hidden curiosity, she couldn't bring herself to run away. There was just... Why the heck am I still here. I gotta get outta here. They're going to hurt me. They're going to- her thoughts trailed off as she imagined all the horrid things these shady-looking characters could do to her.

"Uhh... Um..." She mumbled incoherently, scratching at the ground with one paw as she used that for an excuse not to look either of them in the face. She had gotten herself into a load of trouble; now, how exactly did she plan to get herself out?!

[ryder]

The mind of this sanguine bitch is riddled with safeguards. Vaults, safes, walls that protect certain thoughts from becoming more prominent – thoughts of her old life. But something had happened that was so traumatic that her walls had become shattered, her vaults unlocked letting the dark deeds rush forth to overcome her dreams- and often her waking hours as well. Her defenses are devastated and she’s paying for it. The flashbacks are stronger now, making it increasingly difficult for her to block them out or rebuild her protective walls. They haunt her waking and sleeping moments. Every step wrought with shadows of her dark deeds. But she does not feel remorse – simply searing, painful wrath. She wakes from her nightmares of her past sins livid and thrashing, hating what she’s become

Ryder watches the brute gazing at her, his eyes edgy and perplexed – as if not sure what to make of her. The ends of her kissers curve upward in a sardonic smile, she didn’t even know what to make of herself. Ryder suddenly feels the powerful urge to simply throw out a few poignant insults, then run away because this was such a f**king bad idea to come over here in the first place. There was obviously not even a scrap of the venison left, there was no pleasant conversation to be had, and even this Alastor character seemed unsure of what to do. He probably just doesn’t know if I’m worth eating she scoffs mentally, not knowing how sickeningly close to the mark she actually was. But unpredictably, she stays firmly planted where she is, not moving a muscle and watching blankly as he shifts – coming toward her...

Observing his antagonized posture, she determines she must be pushing his patience - he looked on the verge of attacking her. How delicious. She cannot stop the grin that smacks onto her features for a moment – but it doesn’t reach her eyes. They never do.

She emotionlessly observes as he comes within striking distance of her, behaving like a third-party observer who wasn’t in life-threatening danger. How quaint. She watches, façade empty of feeling, as he pulls back to strike her – standing statue still and waiting for the impact. But it never came. Her eyes do not blink as they look with the first hint of emotion – curiosity – at his suspended paw. She wasn’t sure if he wanted her to bite him simply for an excuse to kill the irritating bitch that he’d so inconveniently attracted with his kill. Curiosity, though, what had halted his blow – what had made him pause when others had entertained no hesitation whatsoever. What… why…? Her eyes rove into his, seemingly unaffected by their closeness, searching intensely for answers.

She lets a low rumbling growl once again come – even though she had guessed he disliked her doing it, he seemed particularly egotistical. The hateful noise echoes for a significant time span, then it fades to the low rumble that seemed to constantly be vibrating from her vocals, it could almost be mistaken for a purr – but if you listened closely it was a sustained snarl. Interesting.

He’d stopped, eyes clouded over in… deep thought? Sheer insanity? She doubted her growl was the reason for his halt in advance. He doesn’t move an inch, but his putrid breath at such close ranks causes her to wrinkle her features in undisguised disgust – wincing and flinching away. Sure it smelled vaguely like blood, but that perfume hardly masked the rotting stench beneath. It was repulsive, and she swiftly sidesteps away to his left. Her features are serious, and her tail is stiff – it hasn’t wagged with any happiness since… she can’t even remember how long it’s been since she’s had anything not utterly disappoint her. Had anything worth being happy about… Poor poor Ryder…

Ryder’s stagnant pools watch with minimal interest as a fae suddenly comes into view – crashing directly into Alastor, as if she didn’t even notice him in such a huge, open field. She couldn’t stop the spark of amusement that shades her pools, imagining what Alastor will do to this clumsy – and incredibly unfortunate – female, imagining how mentally incompetent this stranger must be. It almost made her feel good about herself, to see this other humiliating – and possibly killing- herself. Almost. Ryder’s orbs watch with masked interest as the fae shakes, sweats, and mumbles something unintelligible. The curve in Ryder’s lip turns to a full-out sneer, it had been too long since she had been able to play with another, escape her past, and torment others for a change. What wild fun the two of them would have! and of course Alastor would probably want to play a little too…

The fae is staring at the ground, and Ryder’s tail gives a little twitch. Not a wag – but notably closer than anything witnessed in a long, long, time…

{ooc}Status: incomplete complete
Word Count: 880
Mood: starts off cold, then is confused by A’s hesitation, then is darkly pleased by the new arrival
{/ooc}

[/size]

[alastor]

The effect Ithyph had on Alastor as she rammed into him was as much an effect as one had when they collided with a rock. She, of course, fell to the ground. His body, on the other hand, barely quivered from the impact and the only real movement was the whip of his head to face her. At first he was surprised to see the female who nearly came out of nowhere. When he had been in his mental ‘bubble’ he must have shun even the smell of other incoming wolves to not even realize this little female running into the scene. There was no throbbing or pain where she had collided into him, but he released a snarl from deep within his chest nonetheless. Fur again pricked up down his spine and claws dug into the ground trying to test there sharpness. What stopped him from immediately lunging was the fear in her eyes and the lovely sound of a fast beating heart. The teeth that were bared at her and the lips that were raised slowly moved into a sadistic grin. That was a sound he needed to hear. In away, this female’s presence was a nice relief from the tension he and Raven were building. Basic routine life had returned, and he had happily found a lovely piece of pie to go with his filling dinner.

Giving her a quick once over his nose wrinkled at the scents that cover her coat. Wolves. Other wolves. It wasn’t wrong to assume that she was from a pack and didn’t have to go through the torment of being a loner. That as well meant she had to be pretty sheltered with all those other wolves to protect her. Poor little girl. All alone in this vast area, no friend or ally in sight. By her behavior she appeared to have gotten separated from the rest. She didn’t act like a collector, gathering future pack mates to make her pack more powerful. Nor was she some sort of crusader living to destroy evil loners in hopes to protect her pack from future enemies. Nope. Like he had assumed before she was just lost. Unfortunately, she had come to the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Well, well, well…” he spoke with amusement stepping away from Raven and waking a semi circle around the new female. “Aren't you packlanders taught any manners?” It was obvious he wanted an apology for her inexcusable ramming into him. Also this gave him some time to walk on the opposite side from where he had stood before. Probably she’d turn around, but this let him better predict where she’d run next... if her instincts ever kicked in and she darted off. She would now not go towards him or run towards Raven, so that left her with only two possible exits. This hunter’s strategy was to box her off as much as he could. Then, he’d attack her for hitting him. He had to be patient, like he had to be with all prey, and find a way to put her in such a squeeze there was no means of escape. The male wasn’t planning to consume her; he was full and wouldn’t go as far as eating till he started vomiting. He would have fun ripping her into shreds and so all that was left for her Alpha to find was red confetti.

Drool slid down his lips and plopped in goops on the grass as he thinks about his future fun. Blood shot eyes glanced at Ryder for only a second, knowing she’d probably want to participate. He let her have a few jabs, just to she what she had up her sleeves, before he made mince meat of the female. It might prove to be entertaining to watch her try and freak the newcomer out or manipulate her mind. After having such a terrible life, at least from what he could see from her eyes and condition, she had to want revenge. Or maybe a way to burn off all that terrible anger and memories of what happened to her in her past. That wasn’t why Alastor did it. He did it for thrills and food.

Continuing to stand up, the male’s gaze returned to the female, waiting patiently for her apology. He doubted it make her more comfortable as nothing could do that in the entire world with his appearance. But it might make her spill some information. He’d love to know that pack she came from and who to deliver her remains to. That, of course, was the polite thing to do.

[alya]

'Shit. Where is everyone?' It seemed forever since she'd started running, and in truth she wasn't exactly up for such a long distance sprint. Sure she could run for quite a long time if she wanted to, and when she really needed to her sprint could be very impressive. Unfortunately, if the distance was covered by nothing but sprinting, it was a near guarantee she wouldn't be able to keep up for long.

At first, she'd made it her goal to keep up with Ithyph. While they were in the desert, she'd done a pretty decent job of that. The head start the Tundra femme had meant the Iranian would always be trailing her, but for the most part Ithyph had always been in her sight. With her ears she had kept tabs on Isolde. It was sweet of the alpha to have shown up at the dens, looking for them. It was also rather stupid. Ah well, she'd seemed to have heard Ithyph's comment about the plains, and it wasn't long before the red femme was on Alya's heels.

The big, black brute, Exodus, seemed to have briefly returned as well. She didn't have time to halt and actually dissect everything his howl contained. A part of her mind was even screaming that the Salen alpha was an idiot for stopping so near an erupting volcano. 'When I find Isolde and Ithyph again, I'll ask if they caught the message or not... Hopefully Kaoru's still hunting and won't be returning for a while. Now if only I could figure out how long until dusk.'

As the terrain shifted from sand to grass, Alya needed to slow her pace. She was having trouble breathing, her lungs having filled a bit with smoke and ash. She was also exhausted, and another down side to her current condition was the fact that her back leg was killing her. 'Stupid bullet.' She didn't bother to hold back the growl that accompanied that thought. Normally a very patient creature, at this moment in time she was one pissed beta. That volcano picked the perfect time to erupt.

As she trotted along the plains, her limp was very pronounced. It probably wouldn't go back to its normal, easily concealable state for the next few days either. She'd put a lot of strain on it, and the work and energy that went into hiding the limp was just too much extra effort for the time being. She had wanted to hid the old injury from her pack as long as she could, especially from the alphess, but now that was impossible and all suspicions were probably confirmed. Still, even with her bum leg Alya wasn't simply "all talk." She could still give the best a run for their money, especially with the foul mood she was in right now.

Tilting her gaze towards the sky, she squinted her eyes in hopes of trying to locate the sun. She was still too close to the pack's boarder, however, and soot, smoke, and debris clouded the once clean and crisp air. It was horrible really, and there was no way to stop any of it. Nature had decided she didn't want the little rag-tag pack living in her desert, and the quickest way to drive them out was to make the sleeping giant blow its top. Couldn't a more subtle disaster have taken place instead? Especially when there was already some sort of large scale trouble going on that the other wolves were trying to prevent? "Damn it."

As she stalked further into the Chamoru Plains, she began to pick up on the faint scents of other wolves. Most were stale, their owners having moved on by now. There were a few that were fairly fresh, though, and at least three of them were not too far away. Alya halted completely and took a deep inhalation of breath. 'Male, two femmes... wait, is that Ithyph's scent?' Apparently Ithyph had found herself two strangers. Unfortunately, from what she'd seen so far of the skittish wolfess, things probably would not be looking very good for her right now. 'Let the strangers be friendly...'

Narrowing her eyes, the beta broke into a run. She was slightly more energized now that she'd take a break from sprinting, and it wasn't long before she found herself cresting a small hill. To the left of her, not fifty feet away sat the unknown femme she'd scented. The crimson pelted creature looked anything but friendly, but Alya averted her gaze from bothering to study her. At the moment, the femme was not the immediate threat to her pack mate.

"Ithyph you idiot." The words were barely a whispered, buried beneath a furious growl. At the foot of the hill was Ithyph being circled by the male. He looked like he was ready to eat her. 'Bastard... What has that fluffy femme gone and done?' This male looked anything but friendly. In fact, it almost looked as if Hell had gone and spit him up, the brute too despicable for even the likes of the Underworld. Everything about this situation screamed "death" to Alya. If she didn't do something, Ithyph would surely be torn to shreds. And if she did try some form of attack, she would probably lose her own life. She wasn't exactly the biggest wolf in the world, and her hind leg currently hindered her speed a lot more than it normally did. 'Hopefully that....thing, has a brain that understands reason.'

Not waiting a moment longer, thin legs carried the nineteen inch wolf towards the pair at the bottom of the hill. The added momentum would have caused her to crash into one of them had she not bothered to control her speed. She wasn't as careless as Ithyph had been. Granted, she didn't know that the whole reason Ithyph was in this mess was because she'd managed to run right into the brute. Ah well. There would be time for an interrogation later...hopefully.

With a growl, she halted herself in front of the fluffy femme. Brown eyes were trained into a vicious death glare, an aura of anger, hatred, annoyance, and frustration seeming to crackle and pop around her small frame. Her hackles were raised and her plume stood erect as she made herself look as dominant as possible. Even in her currently enraged state she probably wouldn't be able to do much damage to the brute, but she would at least put up a better fight than Ithyph probably would.

"Get out of here!" she hissed to the femme, hoping she could draw enough attention to her that Ithyph would be able to easily escape. There was still that dark looking fae further off to worry about, but Alya had judged her to be much less of a threat than the male. She was simply sitting and watching. He looked ready to attack at any moment.

Not once had she removed her glare from that brute. Was she scared? She certainly didn't look it. There was one small part of her, a small nagging in the back of her mind, that was telling her to forget everyone and run; it was telling her to save her own skin. She easily ignored it though, burying it someplace in the back of her mind along with all the insignificant things she cared to forget. Alya was a pack member through and through. A former alphess and now currently a beta, she would sooner die than abandon Ithyph. This threat was not human. This threat could not kill with an object so tiny it was near impossible to see until it was too late. No. This threat was merely canine, and Alya would never let abandonment take place for such a natural enemy. There was a chance both she and Ithyph would be escaping with both of their lives in tact, and that hope was enough to keep the small femme boldly standing where she was. Was she scared? No more than the day she'd been shot by that man. She'd lived through that, though, and she was planning on living though this. "Whatever insignificant thing she's done, forgive her and move on with your life."

[ithy]

Ithyph's orbs flashed wildly from one wolf to the other, her mind gradually melding them together. She could see the hunger in the femme's eyes; this was not good. I've gotta get out of here! her mind screamed, but her muscles resisted defiantly. She wasn't going anywhere fast. The complete horror of the situation had been enough to overload her delicate mind; she was done for. Then, the brute spoke.

“Aren't you packlanders taught any manners?” Ithy quivered with fear, sensing the subtle, dark undertones of his voice. These wolves were not the kind that would smile and forgive her. This would've been noticeable to even the thickest of wolves. However, Ithyph was not exactly responding to the situation. Her mind was attempting to convince her that this was all a fantasy, and she would wake up from it soon. Move, move, move... She urged herself angrily. Finally, she felt her legs unlocked, and she stumbled backwards, tripping into a mound of thick, luscious grasses. If she were to get out of this situation, now would be the time to bolt. This, however, was thwarted by the semi-circl Alastor walked around her. She shook fiercely, terrified. I'm not a social wolf. I'm a sit in the back of the cave and fade into the surroundings wolf, she thought, resisting the urge to let the nervous tears stream down her cheeks.

This was probably it for the femme. Her ears fell back in defeat, and she curled her tail between her legs submissively. She was finished; apprehended by her own misfortune. Ithyph had never been met with a worse situation than this. She would never live out what few dreams she had formed. As she sat cowering from this dark soul, Ithyph caught the faintest scent of a familiar wolf. Alya. The femme's ears shot up accutely, allowing a glimmer of hope to flash through her eyes once more.

With a sigh of relief, Ithyph watched as Alya approached. Thank Tor. She lowered her ears in shame as she listened to the femme whisper to her. "Ithyph you idiot." She sighed lightly. I probably deserved that. It was reasonable; she had gotten herself into this situation, and now she needed her pack's beta to come bail her out. "Get out of here!" Shaking her head in both agreement and fear, Ithyph bolted off into the grass. She would not allow the beta femme to be killed because of her stupid mistake. Watching carefully, Ithy stayed hidden but alert in case the other femme would need help. Perhaps she wasn't very useful by herself, but the courage that came with numbers could give her the confidence she needed to push forward.

((OOC: Sorry it took so long to respond. That's my bad; I've been really busy lately.))