Crazy is just another meaning...

[rapture]

The words slipping from the female right before the attack went through one ear and out the other. His only focus was to bring upon pain to the femme antagonizing him. As his claws met her flesh, he couldn't help but let off a loud cackling shout. "You thought I was all bark and no bite!" Her loud yelp only tingled his insides and his eyes shook with crazy and thirst as she stumbled away.

He lifted the paw that struck her and began to lick her blood from his claws. "Stupid bitch, you should have known better than to mess with me..." He paused and narrowed his eyes at her, letting off a fierce grin. "I don't like to play around... Much." Rapture laughed loudly.

The mexican brute continued to watch the ivory femme stumble and suffer. Her head swiveled in one direction and remained there. His gaze followed hers, and he too, met the eyes of yet another wolf. Rapture began to grind his teeth roughly together. His grin downsizing to a sneered snarl.

Rapture's orange orbs never left the ebony wolf in the distance, but with the sound of awkward shuffling of feet and whimpers, the brutes attack instinct snapped in place. Without hesitation he chased after the white female. Her steps were uneven and she stumbled quite often, which gave Rapture time to catch up.

The femme finally collapsed to the cold dirt, glancing over her shoulder back at Rapture, who was indeed... Chasing her. The brute slowed himself to a trot as he approached the wounded female. "Why are you running away from me sweetheart? I thought we were getting along pretty good." Her fear only made Rapture more eager and excited.

The brute positioned himself over the terrified femme. He pressed his hard paw on her shoulder and flipped her onto her back. A filthy grin crossed his maw, his teeth bared in a crooked smile. "Are you afraid... My dear?" His eyes widened with delight as they gazed to her wounded paw. "Poor baby..." The brute huffed, lowering his head and glazing his rough tongue against her bloody paw. Then placing his paws on her forelimbs, pinning her tightly to the frozen land.

Bright, bloodthirsty irises gazed back at the stranger in the distance. Rapture continued massaging the femme's paw with his tongue, but his eyes never left the ebony wolf. It was as if he was urging the stranger to come closer. The mexican brute also wondered if this wolf dared attempted to save the helpless female.

Rapture chuckled softly as he rose one of his paws, placing it over the neck of the ivory femme. He pressed most his front weight against her delicate neck. The brute's head shifted over, his eyes in full sight of the shadowed wolf, a starchy grin held onto his bloodied face.

[Deleted]

Atreyu’s cold stare had fallen on the new duo before him. Shadowy eyes shifted from one to the other, observing their body language, collecting important information about each character from a distance; more times than not it would come in handy later on. Scanning over the smaller male, Tre scoffed at his size in comparison to himself; the Mexican was nearly half his size, although he was tenacious, he had to give him that much. While his eyes were wondering over the brute’s frame, acknowledging his posture and rigid stance, he spotted the blood along the face of both front legs. They didn’t look like wounds caused by another wolf, they were remarkably different… What was confusing is that there was fresh blood trickling down his paws, and auburn droplets staining the sand beneath him. The gears in his mind were working away at figuring out the cause of the wounds when the idea clicked, he must have done it to himself. He raised his brow ever so slightly; he was beginning to understand the Mexican wolf and how he should be dealt with. As the idea came together, he watched the brute slide his way over to the female with a wicked grin etched across his bloodied mug. Move girl. The thought was nothing more than what he would do; he didn’t care what happened to her. He understood that the male was similar to himself, but Atreyu is sane, he knows what he’s doing, and he likes it. As the multi-hued hellion stamped on the fatale’s injured paw, her cries of pain sent a welcomed shiver down his spine and his heart jump. He too enjoyed the effects of torture, but as her watery gaze met his eyes, they were expressionless and told nothing of his intentions.

He could visually see her change in mood. She had been domineering and confident in herself, but once she spotted the black male her bold energy fell away. He liked it… a lot. She could stand up to a worthless, waste of space - who talked too much in his opinion. Atreyu much rather preferred to induce fear another way, by not saying anything at all. Silence alone is enough to frighten most wolves. The blazing orange eyes of the Mexican caught sight of him as well, but Atreyu only stared back, saying nothing with words, with his body, or his dead eyes that faded away against their dark canvass. The female took her chance and ran, but her injury made her clumsy and she tumbled in the soft and uneasy terrain not far off. He made no move, until the male chased after her. Only then did he pick himself up, and with head parallel to the earth, did he gradually make his way towards the two, placing himself directly to the side maybe ten feet away. Although this time, he didn’t sit down, he lowered himself to the ground, laying sphinx-like with his twin peaks erect and casually listening to the words that were exchanged. He locked his gaze with the eyes of the brute who again managed to pin the female to the ground. What a pity.

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Ooc: Sorry if I held you guys up, I really don't mean to. It's just that I've been battling some emotional/personal issues for the past few days, and I havn't really had the will to get out my notebook and write. Hopefully, even though I think it's pretty crappy, it'll suffice.

[Deleted]

She had finally regained controll of herself. She had finally been able to take in her surroundings and rationalize the danger. She had finally regained her wits about her, and just as quickly as it came all was lost again. Poor Denali couldn't seem to catch a break. Things refused to go her way. If she wasn't careful, she'd end up dead. Of course, how careful could one be when he or she was not in posession of the proper state of mind? All that could be hoped was that she'd snap back to her senses soon and succeed in escape.

The words of the Mexican male fell upon deaf ears. It was too much. It was all just way too much. Between the antognizing tones, two visible presences meant to be feared, and the silence of the black stranger, Denali just couldn't handle it. It was a sensory overload. Panic and fear gripped at her mind and twisted her gut. The pain radiating from her paw shot up her leg and forced a small whimper from her maw. And then Rapture flipped her over and lowered his tongue to her free-flowing blood. The feeling of the rough appendage unwantedly caressing her paw pushed her over the edge.

What happened next no one had any control over. The Tundra femme was completely on autopilot, and only got worse. The pressure of a paw on her windpipe, laboring her breath, wasn't enough to stop her. She squirmed and twisted her body in such a way that her entire lower half slammed into Rapture, forcing him off of her. The momentum caused her to roll a few feet in the dirt, paws splaying everywhere as her usually blinding pelt was further tainted in dirt and mud. By the time her body ceased to move her bottom was on its side, rear paws kicked out in front of her. Most of her weight was being supported up by her good front leg, placing her in an odd looking sitting position. Her injured paw was tucked closely to her chest, and her head was tilted on its side as if curiously looking at the two males crouched feet before her.

But Denali wasn't looking. Far from it, actually. In that most compromising, uncomfortable position all movements halted. The only indicatation that she was still with the living was the shallow breathing. Well, that and the mumbled, illegible phrases that tumbled from her maw at irregular intervals. "Hemmer... luminadel... a... kim..." Her face was completely expressionless. Her eyes were dead, cold, emotionless. Despite where she was looking, she did not see. All of her senses had shut down. No sounds reached her ears; no scents accosted her nose. It was if Denali wasn't even there. All that existed was an empty shell, unable to form actual words and completely unaware of the danger that was lurking mere meters away. At the moment, the femme wasn't even aware of her self.

"Hisa... cur... wimmo... em... ohk." She was essentially in a trance. Nothing could get through to her. In a way, she was a sitting duck. In another way, she possibly appeared more insane than the other two. The black male was just a witness, an observer. The multihued one, while insane in his own right, seemed to have his wits about him enough to know the difference between a threat and a social gathering. Denali, on the other hand, perceived neither threat nor social gathering. She perceived nothing at all and merely sat there, body contorted as she chanted nonsense ramblings.

One intimidated with silence, one with words and actions. The last was lost to the twisted workings of her own mind, essentially dead to the world despite still living, and utterly helpless until the moment she would recover. Hopefully she would recover soon. Insanity would not keep these males at bay. Given her current luck, this recent manifestation of one of her schizophrenia symptoms would only serve to lure them closer.

[rapture]

"Heh.. heh..." Rapture panted with a chuckle, his fiery gaze still pin-pointed on the far larger brute in the distance. While his total focus was on the ebony wolf, a hard hit thrashed at him, tossing him off the white femme. He awkwardly landed on his front legs, his rear magnetized to the frozen valley. "You... Bitch..." A sharp snarl broke through his teeth as he stood back up and padded heavily towards Denali.

The femme started projecting inaccurate dialogue from what Rapture could hear. She seemed totally disoriented, which threw Rapture off a bit. He continued to walk over there, small growling rumbling in his throat. "You give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right now..." His orange orbs narrowed into tiny slits as his black lips curled over his bloody teeth.

The female was completely out of it. It was like she couldn't hear or see, or understand. Rapture huffed louder and louder as time went on and she didn't answer his question. "Agh!" He threw his head away from her with deep snarls sneaking under his breath. His eyes gazed back to the black wolf nearby, almost forgetting his company.

"You! Tough guy! You're pretty pathetic for just watching!" A sharp chuckle escaped his maw, and then he continued. "Why don't you come and face me like the big bad wolf you are." Rapture giggled roughly. The Mexican brute didn't know this wolf either, but from he has seem so far, this wolf was just an observer. Rapture only assumed he was harmless.

Fiery orange irises gazed slowly back to the white femme, his wide grin flashing shades of red towards her. As his head slowly notched back to the black brute, his chest pulsed with hidden laughter. His black claws dug into the soil as his burly tail twitched slightly. Rapture lowered his head close to the ground, licking his chops thoroughly. His limbs awkwardly spread apart as his sneering grin pointed to the black wolf. The mexican's eyes were wide his rage and excitement, he was only waiting for either of the two larger wolves to make a move.

[ardemu]

It seemed as if it had been some time since he had dismissed Koli in Kamari. Ardemu, a dignified smirk gracing his stained yellow fur, sauntered across the Haishin pack's lands, taking his time to be as infuriating as possible. As he stepped into the free territory, however, the brute's pace quickened, eager to stretch his aching forelegs and search for over vile wolves like himself. It would be strength in numbers that would assure the downfall of the Anikira packs. And he was sure there were many wolves out there not too different from himself. Those who craved the blood of their brothers, sought to destroy and wreck havoc on the sanity of any creatures around them. Those who defied leadership, though Ardemu had his methods of reigning them in. He had successfully done so with Alastor, and he could achieve such a feat yet again.

Ardemu lifted his crown high, inhaling sharply as something drew his attention. There was a heavy scent of fresh wolven blood blowing from the south, a sure fire sign that there were fighting wolves not too far away. Perhaps he could benefit from this conflict. If not, he could always lay the winner to waste and bask in the brilliance he knew he held. Most of these wolves were simply fools and did not deserve to contaminate such a horribly beautiful continent. Under his rule, any wolf could assert their true authority. They were the masters of this land, and he would help them achieve their true potential, even if it meant destroying others of his own blood along the way. Anyone standing in his path was an enemy.

As quick as he had caught the trail, Ardemu averted his path, slinking dangerously towards the now growing noise of the fight. He could hear the voices; a femme and a brute were fighting. But there were three scents here, two brutes and a femme. Obviously something quite amusing, at the very least, was going on that would keep him preoccupied until he found something better to do.

It wasn't until he was nearly upon the scene that Ardemu realized what an extraordinary discovery he had made. A quite possibly insane brute, his leg bleeding from self-inflicted wounds, was battling a larger femme. This mexican brute seemed like quite a spunky character, and he interested the dark brute. He settled down to watch, listening to the banter between the femme, which he now discovered to be Denali, and the brute, Rapture. Even a vile name, he remarked in his mind with a perk of his interest. Ardemu was definitely enjoying this. He could see that this wolf was a talented fighter. He had managed a few severe strikes at the femme that she would feel much later, especially her wounded paw. He could feel the dark aura that surrounded Rapture, something that he had quickly been able to detect within moments of his arrival.

Ardemu had barely noticed the brute that had also been a spectator until Rapture called him out to fight. Foolish move. His orbs narrowed sharply, watching the injured mexican wolf as he taunted this other wolf. This observer was obviously stronger than Rapture. It had not taken him long to scope out the abilities of each wolf. Denali was a fool that had simply ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time, not much unlike the femme, Ithyph, that himself and Alastor had laid to waste in Kamari. He found pleasure in comparing these new wolves with wolves he had murdered in the past. This new wolf was more of an equivilant to Alya. The dying alphess had been quite a problem. She had been a lot more difficult to deal with than Ithyph had been. He estimated that the fight between Rapture and this new wolf would not be pretty; Ardemu couldn't wait.

He knew this wolf to be a mutt; nothing but a half-breed. However, he could not take this to necessarily be a disadvantage. The brute was large and muscular. Rapture had no brains if he believed he could take on such an opponent, especially if the spastic femme, Denali, managed to snap back to whatever crazed delusion had been fueling her earlier.

"There is nothing like the spilled blood of wolves across the virgin plains," the brute cackled quietly. He did not wish for Rapture to try to fight him as well, as Ardemu had plans for the brute. If this other wolf managed to fight Rapture down enough, Ardemu would be quick to step in and salvage the broken body of the mexican wolf. He would make some use out of a fighter like that, even if he had to find a way to piece him back together. He would try his best to stay out of the way. Perhaps allowing nature to stay on its course for a while would give him a greater opportunity to profit from these wolves' misfortunes.

[Deleted]

All of this was too much… It could not be more perfect. Internally he was amped with jitters that caused his stomach to tighten creating a knotted feeling. Externally though, he was the essence of tranquility, his muscles seemingly relaxed and his position poised. Watching the two intently he was delighted to see that the dirty Tundra made her escape from the clutches of her tormentor. Atreyu didn’t really care whether or not she limped away, or she became his next meal, he had a different target in mind. As the thought passed his head, he realized his coat was still a mess from before and that his stomach was still urging him to eat more, even after he gorged on the organs of that stupid adolescent male. He refocused himself on the wolves in front of him, curiously watching the shaken Tundra fem compose herself awkwardly and begin to ramble off syllables of no coherent meaning. She wasn’t as “normal” as he had perceived her to be. Interesting…

“You’re still a damn idiot! Just look at what you’ve gotten yourself dragged into!” commented a voice in his brain with tones dripping of aggravation.

The Mexican male responded to her stammering and unresponsiveness aggressively; without receiving an action from her, he needed to feel a rise out of Atreyu. Tre had been waiting for just such a thing, waiting to be addressed - therefore, unknowingly, the Mexican wolf gave way to his insecurities. Infiltrating their space until his silence and presence were enough to drive the insane wolf mad was his intention all along. Calmly he rose to all four paws, just as the skies opened with a dampening shower. Maybe I won’t have to wash off in the ocean now. Approaching the situation with confidence, he casually strode, indirectly, avoiding a close encounter with the riled up male, halting as he stood firmly beside the female. Diligently his dark emerald pools watched the brute; it could potentially be a grave mistake if he was not completely focused on the only wolf that presented a threat. Leathery nostrils flared, inhaling the aroma of the pale dame confirming that she was on the beach earlier with the two wolves he stalked after. He turned his head to face the female; his eyes though were focused on his peripheral vision, keeping a steady watch on the male. “Who said I was here for your sorry pathetic ass?” he sneered, turning to stare at the Mexican with his head tilted slightly. He took a step forward with a wicked grin stretching across his blood matted mug. Swiftly he lifted his hind leg powerfully kicking the female’s rib cage behind her shoulder in hopes of sending her tumbling.

Ooc: Dang writer's block.. Not that my screaming three year old neice in this tiny room helps at all..

[Deleted]

The gentle patter of rain was not enough to awaken the disturbed femme. At first it was only a few drops splattering here and there. They tickled her nose and hugged her coat, darkening the dirty creamy white. And then the heavens opened up a little more as a steady downpour started. There was no thunder, no lightening. There was simply the pitter patter of the steady rain as it soaked her pelt through, matting the silky strands with any mud and blood that refused to be washed out.

Voices circled around her, their words meshing with the gentle breeze. The wolves before her made subtle movements, shifting their weight as they padded closer and farther away at different intervals. Rapture seemed to grow bored with her while the black demon dared to draw nearer. And in the distance sat another presence she couldn't even hope to pinpoint. After all, she was essentially dead to the word. Her eyes were unseeing, ears unhearing. Her sense of smell was clouded by blood. Her body may have been sitting in the plains, but Denali was absent.

And then suddenly a swift kick was dealt to her gut. Black paw collided painfully with delicate ribs, at least one of them the source of a small cracking sound. Her frozen body was once again forced to the ground, sliding in the dirt. Her head hit the hard earth with a thud. At first she felt no pain. Then, slowly, her glassy eyes unclouded. Black pupils dilated, revealing more amber as they refocused on the lands before her. A sharp intake of breath was accompanied by a whimper of pain as she realized a rib had been broken. Muted auds registered words instead of barely picking up the hum of voices. But, the female did not move from where she lay.

Denali pulled her rear legs beneth her, wincing lightly at the pain in her side. She wasn't really sure what state of mind she was currently in; only that if she moved too much the pain would be too great to allow for an affective escape. For now, the best thing she could do was lay there and watch, and pray that Rapture didn't come after her again. In the state she was currently in, there was no way she could defend herself. Her shattered rib labored her breating, and she could put no weight on her shreaded forepaw. Once again she was a sitting duck. At least this time the males all seemed a bit distracted.

The black brute stood too close for comfort, but his attention seemed more directly focused on Rapture than herself. It was easy to see that the Mexican male was begging for a fight. He was antagonistic to a fault. If he wasn't careful, he'd end up with his ass kicked. A small smirk tugged its way onto the femme's lips as she considered that. Watching Rapture get beaten to a bloody pulp would be most pleasing after everything he'd done to her. Apparently Denali still wasn't in the sanest of states. Her mind felt the need to be sadistic, and as she lay there in pain she felt no urge to surpress the usually unwanted emotions.

[rapture]

Rain drizzled from the skies above. Blood mixed with dirt dripping from his filthy coat, creating a small puddle of maroon beneath his feet. There had been dried blood on his pelt for who knows how long. Rapture never tended to his appearance, never bathed or groomed himself. None of it seemed necessary. His heavy, dark glare continued to dart at the black male approaching them. As the shadowy wolf came closer, Rapture's orbs grew larger with excitement.

“Who said I was here for your sorry pathetic ass?”

Rapture was confused at who it was directed at, but as the large brute's gaze fell upon him, Rapture's legs trembled and he licked his chops. The Mexican wolf watched as the ebony one reared, nailing the female right in the side. His sneering grin turned into an amused one, as he chuckled quietly to himself, his eyes sharply piercing into the emerald eyes of his next opponent.

"So, large... Terrifying... Threatening...Pitiful wolf. What do plan on doing now? Exterminating me?" Rapture snorted at the thought. The brute had dealt with wolves much larger than himself in the past, and it didn't intimidate him one bit. Rapture began grinding his teeth together with a wide, shadowy grin withheld his determined face.

Rapture's total focus on the white femora was past him now. He'd totally forgotten she was still there. He was searching for a challenge, and Denali didn't fit the schedule. His fiery gaze narrowed, and he continued. "Well? What do you say you overgrown rat? Bring me much pain, bloodshed to ease my thirst, hell... Kill me if you can, I'd only be haunting your dreams for the rest of your life..." The Mexican brute cackled loudly as his tail slapped his sides. His ears laid flat and his body lowered closely to the ground. Rapture, despite his injuries, was still a swift little devil. What strength lacks, speed makes up for.

A low toned growl echoed through the area, as his jaws snapped repeatedly at the black brute. Bring it.... Rapture couldn't sustain himself any longer. Tension built up in his muscles as he lunged at the black wolf, sinking his razor fangs into the brute's chest. He jerked his head left and right, tearing at the skin until fresh blood oozed from the wound, melting inside Rapture's mouth.

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Remember, in this RP I allow minor PPing. Just be sure its respectful. And Tre if you got Xin's message, allow that in a future post. If what I've done to your character is unacceptable please tell me, I'll be sure to fix it.

[towne]

The only reason she woke was the noise. Rustling occurred almost every night, whether it be a rabbit flocking in the moonlit plains or an unlucky gopher being chased by another wolf. The Mackenzie-Shepherd had trained herself to block out the regular noise in the night, but this was something different entirely.

Snarls and thuds sent rumbles through the atmosphere, and Towne was slowly jerked awake with the sound of voices. At first they had just molded themselves into her dream, the charcoal webs of speech spinning like gossamer webs around her pleasant dream of chase. The twisted dream was enough to wake her, for in her sleeping, the rabbit in which she was chasing turned it’s head to reveal a massive amount of teeth. The creature turned it’s head to the sky and screamed, and then began loosing it’s lips in mindless chatter with eyes open wide.

The fae shook her fur out, relieving herself of some of the mud she had layered herself in before falling asleep. It was a good thing too, for little did she know, but three vicious murderers and one helpless victim were standing just ten yards away from her crowded patch of brush, the dirt wet with rain.

Waking up, Towne lifted her own muzzle and let the rain drop onto her face, listening and feeling the patter on her eyes and ears. She shook that extra residue off as well, and dared to peer through the opening in the brush.

What she saw horrified her.

Strewn about in the tall grass was a beautiful creme female, with soft features. Those same small beauties were tainted, however, by the blood that coated her legs, the missing patches of fur, and the disturbed looking body. The second she laid eyes upon was a jet black male, large and muscular, and clearly enjoying the entire event. He had blood strewn on his chest, and a look of fire and some kind of resentment in his eyes. The biggest blooded culprit was the Mexican male, mouth coated with blood that oozed down his chest, and two gaping wounds on the fronts of his legs. When Towne flicked her caramel irises to the left of her hiding place, she saw a shadow of another wolf, apparently making himself comfortable and enjoying the show.

Coward, she thought to herself, bile rising in her throat as the scent of the scene was brought to her nostrils.

As the white female groaned and struggled, Towne became restless. She was larger than the Mexican and other brute, though not nearly as strong. She was fast, however, and it would cost her extreme pain later, but there was one priority right now.

Towne hadn’t made direct contact with a wolf of the continent Anikira since she was a yearling. She shook her head, dread and worry filling her heart for the young white female. What a life she had ahead! Moist salt filled the female’s eyes as she thought of all the female would lose at this point in her fragile life. She wouldn’t recuperate in a day, but if there was some way to get her out, she would live.

The female shook her head, smiling to herself. If she got the white female out of the way of these deranged males, she was risking her own life. Towne simply shrugged inwardly. She was eight, almost nine years old. The years for her were numbered, but for this creme beauty, they were not.

With that, her mind was made.

While the Mexican brute launched himself at the charcoal male, Towne launched herself at the creme fae just meters away from the brawl.

Even in old age, Mackenzie wolves were known for their largeness and strength, and the German Shepherd in her was an advocate for speed. In a completely alert breeze, the rain pelting her back, Towne ran straight for the female. At the last minute, she swerved to the left and snatched the fur on the creme female’s neck in an attempt to drag her along.

She bit hard, and it would not be pleasant, but dragging was the best option.

Towne almost laughed with her speed, which was weighed down with the weight in her jaw, and she stuck the ground blindly with ecstatic pawpads. Her fur splayed out in a curtain behind her, and her tail was raised with power.

As Towne flew onward, sprinting through mud and dirt, she looked up to see the sand of Endyt coming into view. This creme female would hurt in the morning, and would be in great need for a bath. Towne would need some rest time as well. Rescue escapades and long runs were a very bad idea for a creature with hip dysplacia and osteoarthritis.

[Deleted]

The day had slipped away into the late afternoon as a threatening rainstorm rolled in off the ocean, and with any hope it would lose momentum as it drenched the plains. Within the mass of steadily growing clouds reaching further into the atmosphere, a few maintained their individuality with varying tones of slate-grey fading into a bright white all in a circular pattern. As heavy droplets of frigid temperatures poured onto their backs, Atreyu thought to himself, How cliché at a time such as this…No matter his preference for the weather, he was unable to control it and must just deal with the cards he was dealt. An onyx lobe swiveled in the direction of the fallen femme; his plan was successful, not to mention her cries of pain and pathetic whimpering exhilarated him. That damn Mexican had to open his ugly trap again and ruin the moment by drawing Tre’s attention forward. His shallow insults fell on deaf ears as his words went in one side and out the other. Atreyu had his pride like most males, but unlike others he never allowed his to interfere or did he ever act upon it. Besides, why take anything into consideration from a wolf that didn’t deserve any sort of respect, much less the right to live in Atreyu’s eyes.

A downdraft brought on by the storm delivered the news of two newcomers to scent receptors stored away in his nasal passages. The idea of added company to their crowd was less than thrilling to Atreyu, and although curious eyes desired to wander, he remained intent on watching the brute facing him. After all, he reasoned, there seemed to be wolves inhabiting every corner of this god-forsaken island, they were probably other loners who would simply by-pass the commotion. The voices were not as easily settled… “Hmm… And yet you never listen to us. How many times are we wrong?! Can you remind us of what we said earlier? I must have forgotten…” rambled a voice, clearly still aggravated with his free choice decision. “Oh, yes…” continued the voice, “We told you to mind your own business and what did you do?” The insistent nagging made his blood boil, and since it would be entirely unacceptable for him to say anything in response, his physical reaction showed his distaste; black mug wrinkling into a nasty snarl bearing pearly canines and incisors. At least he didn’t look like a complete lunatic… Dark pools stared at the multi-hued Mexican, but the form of his body faded away into the background of the plains for Atreyu’s head was too clouded with ranting for him to focus on much on anything. He could see the brute’s body coiling and shifting - all key signals he was preparing for an attack, but his mind was unable to process the movement in an orderly time and his body paid the consequences. Were his consciences trying to get him killed? Apparently, because they were doing a damn good job at it!

Everything up to this point had been in slow motion it seemed; time had been gradually creeping to a halt, waiting for a moment that it could spring forward. And it did just that… The Mexican launched himself at Tre, fangs collided with a layer of fatty tissue shielding his chest, but fat or not, he could still feel pain as the flesh tore apart making way for hard enamel. True, Atreyu enjoyed bringing pain and suffering to others similarly to the Mexican brute, but unlike him, Tre didn’t lavish in his own pain, but he wasn’t one to cry about it either. His mind was tossed into a fury of rage, and his body emerged as a fine-tuned killing machine. He was built to take a hit and keep moving as if nothing had happened. The adrenaline that flooded his veins was a welcomed advocate in dulling the pain for the time being; his chest tingled with numbness and in a mixture of an open mouthed growl and snarling bark he reared his head upwards when acute hearing picked up the familiar sound of quick-paced foot falls hastily closing the distance gap. At first thought he figured it was an allied wolf to the Mexican, and if so, he was more pitiful than Atreyu already suspected. Tre didn’t hesitate withholding his blow to the Mexican to look at what creature could be attacking his backside; he had to throw one adversary off before he confronted the other.

Right paw lifted over the back of the multi-hued aggressor, while powerful jaws clamped onto any part of the brute’s body, which just happened to be his far shoulder. Bloodied teeth delivered several puncture wounds consecutively as Tre attempted to get a solid grip. Using his fore limb that he had draped heavily across the back of the Mexican, Tre pulled his body in closer, allowing him to clamp down firmly around the base of his neck, digging his canines into the tough muscle. Large head lifted outward, tossing the small male away from his body sending him tumbling into the muddy turf. Onyx body turned swiftly - a snarling, bloody, and soaked mess of fiery wrath prepared to slaughter the next living creature that looked at him the wrong way. His sinister gaze fell on the black creature that dared to rush by him, but she was not what he had expected… Not all… She had risked her life to rescue the fallen Tundra. Oh, she’s just some sort of hero, he griped to himself. He bounded after the fleeing pair a short distance then paused while he turned half-way around, neither directly facing the two femmes, or the hurting Mexican. “Good! Get out of here!” he shouted after the injured alabaster dame. “Before you end up like your friends…” his tone fell dead with emotion, but a glimmer in his eyes reflected his passion for bringing death to the unfortunate and mental suffering to the living. “That ridiculous and brainless adolescent male… He welcomed death when I was through.” He flashed a wicked grin her way before turning back to face his adversary.

With the little time he had to spare before the Mexican would lift to his feet and dare to come back for seconds, his eyes scanned the surrounding landscape. There was still another wolf in the immediate area, still another threat for surprise and he would not be taken for a fool and make that same mistake twice. He had gotten lucky with the black femme, next time he could not be so fortunate. Leathery nose inspected the moist air, but the rain had doused the thickness of the third male’s scent - that didn’t mean he still wasn’t hanging around. He remained alert, turning his attention back to the Mexican, grinning.

Ooc: Whew... This one is much better than my last few. Have fun! : D

[Deleted]

Denali watched in delight as Rapture made the first move. This would surely anger the black demon that had kicked her so roughly. Fangs sunk into unprotected flesh with ease, the Mexican taking advantage of a momentary lapse in judgement. It seemed the Mack Valley male found something other than the threat before him rather interresting. Had he not, it was doubtful Rapture would have gotten in such an easy hit.

The attack did seem to jerk the ebony male out of his own personal musings though. The moment he was free he was launching himself at Rapture. In all truth it looked like he was giving the blood-stained male a rather awkward hug as he sank sharp inscicors into delicate neck flesh. Denali laughed.

The entire scene that played out before her eyes was infinately amusing in her fractured state of mind. Her paw was on fire and there was a dull ache in her sides, but watching Rapture get pummled was just too good to be true. She marveled at the damage the black brute could cause. He was almost like an angel to her. She knew he wasn't one, as angels didn't often delight in the pain of others. In an indirect way he had saved her though. He'd snapped her out of her trance and shifted the masochistic male's attention from her. Like it or not the black demon was a makeshift hero.

And then another form entered the fray. The Tundra fae had been too caught up in her own mind and sadistic pleasures to really take notice. Honestly, for her not to notice was a bit of a shocker for her. She always noticed. More often than not Denali was acutely aware of everything going on in her surroundings. It was a result of her accursed paranoia. Then again, she wasn't exactly focusing on the intense fear she usually felt, so it maybe it wasn't so much of a shock that she hadn't noticed the mixed blood until it was too late.

The moment the scent of wolf and dog hit her nose she was thrown into a panic. The scent was much too close and moving much too fast as it cut across the air seeming to make a beeline right for her. Denali's eyes widened in shock and fright, her head swiveling in the direction newest addition to the plains. It was a dark colored female with an ancient, wise look about her. A stupid female, if you asked her. What on earth was the old one thinking, rushing headfirst into a battle scene and not halting until she reached the schizophrenic?

Before she had any time to react, a terrified, pain-filled, ear-splitting yelp resonated from within her. Fangs sank into the fatty scruff of her neck and pulled her along agaisnt her will. Seriuosly, what was the old one thinking? Didn't she knew she was doing more harm than good? Denali struggled against the wolf-dog's hold, panicked cries ringing from her maw with increasing speed. The fear was back full force and then some. Every instinct told her run, escape. Any place else was safter than this.

The pain in her ribs was easy enough to ignore as she wiggled and writhed. At one point though she placed her injured paw on the ground. The pain the brief contact caused was sky-rocketed to her central nervous system, bringing tears to her eyes. The Tundra girl had never been known for her strength. Speed and endurance had always been her greatest allies. She could neither free herself nor run if she did, given her injured state, and her whimpers and cries seemed to fall on deaf ears. She was absolutely terrified, and there was nothing she could do to save herself from this newest threat.

In the distance she heard the black male's voice as he called after their retreated forms. He spoke of friends and a childish male. Childish male... "Mike," she whispered, if possible her eyes widening further in shock. Her makeshift hero had killed that sweet young male and the garbage he'd taken a fancy to? No! It couldn't be... She let out one final whimper as the news pushed her over the edge. It was all too much. She was on sensory overload. It was a miracle her heart did not fail her, given its rapid beating.

Her mind did fail her though. Her mind always failed her. This time though, instead of the the simple trance it shut down completely. It was all too much. The unwanted contact. The forceful removable of her body from the fight scene. The heartbreaking words. Her already up and down moods that left her a shadow of her former self. It was too much, and because of it her mind shut down. Golden eyes rolled into the back of her head as her body went limp in the old fae's jaws. Darkness clouded her vision. Denali fainted.

The only defense her body had left, the only escape it could grant her from the horrible world she had just been living in, was to turn itself off. And turn itself off it did. Her bloodied, pain-filled body became nothing more than dead weight as it was dragged along the ground. She knew not where she was going. She didn't know where she'd end up. Heck, she didn't even know if the crazy old female had just saved her life of had found her injured form as an easy target for a new meal. She'd heard the rumors of cannibles within the lands. Whose to say the half-blood wasn't one of them?

All that Denali did know what that upon waking up, where ever that may be, she would most likely be her old self again. And she would have very clear memories of what just happened. Memories that would send her into a spiraling depression. Silently she hoped that where ever she was taken there would be no others around. Fellow canines was the last thing she would be able to handle. Else, if she did end up in the company of others let them at least be familar. Let the crazy old fae take her to the lands of Exodus, or even Xinelil, someplace she would have protection while recovering. Someplace that held even the smallest bit of security for her, even when the world was falling apart around her.

[rapture]

Jerking left and right, Rapture tugged on the skin of the newcomer ebony male. A far larger and more powerful male than the Mexican himself. It didn't matter, the crave for blood overwhelmed his taste, and when those first droplets of the male's blood entered his mouth, it brought even more temptations... Flesh.

But before Rapture could even tear a chunk off the black brute, a massive paw of the black male swung over, the arm draped over Rapture's back. Completely defenseless at this time, and Rapture knew this. But why didn't he see this before? Well, for one he knew this male could throw an arm over the Mexican male. This ebony wolf was much larger and taller for that matter. Continuing to clamp his fangs into the chest of the intruder, a flash of black darted past his line of sight, running past the scene and straight for the ivory fae.

Fiery eyes focused back on his opponent, flexing his jaw muscles on the gamy flesh of the black male. A searing pain punctured into his shoulder. To be expected, Rapture foresaw his attack right as the wolf dominantly threw a limb over the Mexican's back. The pain was just like any other would he had gotten, it didn't technically bother him. Rapture enjoyed pain of course. A snarling chuckle escaped his maw as he chewed on the chest of his victim.

Dragged closer to the black wolf's body, willingly however, Rapture accepted, only to realize that the brute was only getting a better grip. A grip which the Mexican brute felt upon the base of his neck. Rapture knew he was completely defenseless in this awkward position, the worse he could to was attempt to throw the massive wolf off of him. But that was nearly impossible. This wolf probably weighed twice that of Rapture. The pressure of the delivering bite shot shivers down his spine. Biting, massaging, Rapture knew no difference. And At this time, the Mexican didn't bother to fight back.

His orange orbs filled with excitement, the scent of his own blood aroused his senses. His entire state of mind was focused on his bloody scent, only to realize the black wolf jerked his head, tossing him away like he was just a piece of trash, no effort needed. Rapture plummeting into a large mud puddle, vicious growling and soft groans filled the air.

Stunned and dizzy, Rapture lifted himself from the filthy earth, only to fall back down. His ears rang and his vision blurred, he shook his head side to side. A black and white blob in the distance, slowly disappearing. "I'm not threw with you yet!" Rapture snarled, his vision back to normal, he lifted his eyes to meet the emerald ones of his opponent. Pushing off his back hinds, reaching a tall posture on his quads. His head lowered, lips curled under his wicked grin. Rapture took a quick glance at the leaving wolves, and scoffed in distaste.

His gaze slowly met with the ebony brutes again. "Let me guess, your crazy as well?" Rapture cackled, licking his chops. "Seems like... Every creature in this damned area is insane..." A wide, bloody grin was slabbed on his face, his orange orbs narrowed and his chest huffing out with deep laughter. Rapture could feel the blood from his woulds slithering through his blood matted fur.

With another exhilarating burst of excitement, Rapture lunged at the black wolf once more. In a bluff, he darted forward, skidding to a halt, and leaping to the side. Kicking back his hinds, springing him forward and spearing the ebony wolf in between his ribs and hip bone. In an attempt to knock him over. When the attempt failed due to the wolf's massive size, Rapture backed off a few feet, tensing his muscles eagerly waiting for the males next attack. Jerking his head forward, a burst of wind blowing by. A new scent filled his nostrils, another wolf? Not only that, a male wolf. This just keeps getting better and better...

[Deleted]

Alright, he had officially had enough. This had gone on far too long.

His delighted grin was in response to a sight that his dark eyes favored; the “oh-so-tough” Mexican stumbling over himself in an attempt to move from the puddle. Suppressing a short lived chuckle at the male’s expense, he casually pondered if the brute was really stupid enough to try him again… Audits perked forward, listening to the idiot unknowingly answer his inward curiosities. Fixated, and mind now clear to process the images perceived, he noted that the blazing orange gaze of the male looked passed him observing his play thing being dragged off in the distance, to safety. He bobbed his head to the side, obstructing the males view, recapturing his attention. The females were gone and no longer present thoughts in his mind, although he did reconcile with himself that if he ever saw that half-breed again he wouldn’t hesitate to kill her on the spot for being a product of such dishonorable lineage.

“Let me guess, you’re crazy as well? Seems like… Every creature in this damned area is insane…”

Ah… He must have overheard his comment to the floppy-eared dame. At least the Mexican was getting the picture of just what and who he was dealing with… Atreyu didn’t answer his direct question for several reasons. Tre wasn’t much of a talker to begin with and is a firm believer in that silence is a virtue. Also, he didn’t deem the Mexican worthy of an answer being lower than the soil he stood over and of course that a response would bring delight to his pitiful soul. Lastly, Tre didn’t know how to answer such a personal subject… He always considered himself sane - but at times he had his own queries on his sanity. Amidst the lingering idea of border-line insanity, the thought of what he considered made him unstable crossed his mind, the voices that bantered consistently inside his head… They had been eerily silenct since the Mexican attacked. Possibly, just possibly, they had purpose within their madness; aggravating him further like lighter fluid to a flame, giving him an edge before fighting so he would attack more aggressively and forcefully…maybe.

It was annoying to know that even his thoughts were not private because as soon as the consideration of how peaceful pure silence was, a voice returned, though different than the last one which in itself was of the tiniest relief. The voice was hushed and cooed praise in how tactfully Atreyu had handled the situation and lightly coached him on his opponent. “He’s weak… So much blood loss- it wouldn’t be a surprise if he collapsed… How did he taste?” The voice seduced his mind into a blood lust frenzy as his eyes darted, watching the male bound awkwardly closer towards him, halt and change his direction in a split second, then round Tre’s side and pummel into his side. The attack was feeble against Atreyu’s “built-like-a-brick-house” body. Both the voice in his head and his own vocals cackled heartily at the sight of the worn Mexican stumbling backwards after his failed attempt at…whatever it was he was thinking he could accomplish. Enough was enough. Atreyu was going to finish this little escapade.

Composing himself, he remained standing in front of the Mexican with his side exposed… The brute had gotten a luck shot before, it would not happen again! Atreyu could play mind games just as well, and was going to make the brute regret ever inviting Atreyu to play… “You’re pretty deplorable- picking on a femme and all,” he remarked with gravely tones and an expressionless façade. Picking up his paws in slow rhythm he began creeping in a circular trail rounding the Mexican, making sure to take his time and bask in the tension that choked out the atmosphere surrounding the duo. “What is it?” he continued, “You can’t handle testosterone filled temper?” A wolven brow furrowed curiously, “And let me guess, it’s just easier for you to wreak havoc on their emotions that drive them?...” While padding into the territory of Rapture’s nether region he continued without missing a beat, his mouth parted in an open sneer. “So let me ask you this…” he halted his movement, “How is it dealing with a wolf whose heart is darker than your own?” Without hesitating for the smaller brute to respond to his final question, he reached in towards the Mexican’s hind leg, jaws closing around the thigh muscles and tendons above the ankle. In a fluid motion, he jerked his head back, pulling the leg out from underneath the male and dragging him to the ground. Standing over the male and as calm as could be, Atreyu grinned like the devil and noted aloud, “I’m going to make sure I enjoy this more than you…” Malign eyes glared into those of the injured male telling a tale of hundreds of unfavorable acts.

"Yes... Yes..."

[rapture]

“You’re pretty deplorable- picking on a femme and all,”

The rough voice rang in his ears. The impact of Raptures feeble attempt that failed, not only the Mexican brute disappointed by that, he also critically pinched a nerve in his psychotic, damaged mind. Most often due in low self-esteem, weakness or blood loss. But this was different, even in that state he could easily snap out of it. But this time... This wasn't good.

“What is it? You can’t handle testosterone filled temper? And let me guess, it’s just easier for you to wreak havoc on their emotions that drive them?...”

Rapture blinked repeatedly. Why couldn't he see straight? Why couldn't see at all? His surroundings became a cloud of smoke, a blurry black blob in front of him, but nothing came out clearly. His sense of smell had been diminished, and his breaths were cut short. Orange orbs wide, gaping mouth, and drooling profusely, but enjoying every minute of it. “So let me ask you this… How is it dealing with a wolf whose heart is darker than your own?” The voice was clear but his vision was not. Though disoriented and confused, Rapture understood, and began to laugh hysterically.

The brute's head swayed side to side as he grew more woozy and off balance. Unexpectedly, as Rapture thought the black wolf was awaiting an answer, sharp pressure pierced in his leg, twisting him in a upright position and falling down hard on his back. With the wind knocked out of him, and being dragged slightly, the black blob appeared overhead, hovering over Rapture. “I’m going to make sure I enjoy this more than you…” The voice of the wolf threatened, Rapture's grin vanished into a eager snarl as vertigo began to kick in.

The Mexican brute flailed from under the large male, throwing his cranium in all directions, flinging saliva everywhere with long groans. With heavy breathing and leaking snarls, Rapture did all he could to give the ebony male some sort of injuries, but with his condition acting up, his vision unclear and his body uncooperative, Rapture was completely, and most knowingly, envisioning certain death.


Leaning his face closer to the male, snapping his jaws frantically in hopes to get any sort of contact. The once laid back insane Rapture was now a nervous, desperate insane Rapture. "It's not my time... It's not my time!" Sputtering blood from his mouth, Rapture for sure was having some sort of seizure. His body continued to strain and flail, the only offset was Rapture knew what was going on. And with another wolf nearby which only hell knew if he was insane also, could join in on the fun at any time.

"Get the hell off of me!" The Mexican wolf snapped, nicking his fangs into the black brute's upper left limp. Snorting and snarling shaking the earth below him, ears laid flat and lips curled under his stained teeth. He knew only little damage could be inflicted on this male, the mexican brute didn't have the strength to kick him off. Rapture was enjoying it before but now he knew his life was on the line, and he'll do whatever it takes to turn that around.

[ardemu]

Ardemu watched the two brutes scuffle as his eyes narrowed bitterly. He had known that the blood thirsty mexican brute would not be strong enough to take on this larger, and relatively evil as well, wolf. Idiot. If I have to drag you out of this, there will be hell to pay, he thought, a sneer escaping his lips as he watched the two fight. It would not be long, from what he could tell, before it would be necessary to intervene. Luckily, no one would be able to overpower him, as he was not fresh out of a fight as both would be. He was a skilled fighter, and it would not be wise to contest him. But Rapture's attitude could not be ignored. He would make a worthy addition to his band. Since that idiot Alastor seems to have vanished of the face of the continent, he thought with a growl.

The other wolves obviously had not noticed him yet, and that was in his best interest. This was not his fight. He would only make it his business when it got to the point this was necessary. And who knew, maybe both would be willing to join him. They were both talented fighters, but the conflicts between the pair would likely be intolerable. It was one or the other, and the smaller brute seemed more likely to submit under his command.

As Rapture was pinned beneath Atreyu, a snarl erupted from Ardemu's maw. He was not going to wait for the black brute to kill Rapture before he intervened. Then again, he was in no hurry to rush to his aid. "Foolish wolves," he hacked out, his eyes narrowed and sour. "Have you not stopped bickering long enough to realize that the white female has escaped and you are simply tearing each other limb from limb for no reason?" Ardemu was no idiot. He would not allow such valuable wolves to perish at each others' paws, especially if he had some use for them. They would become his prisoners before he would let them die. There had to be some use for them.

"If you'll stop mutilating each other long enough- and get the hell off of him- I have an offer for each of you," he cackled, his eyes glimmering excitedly. He had a feeling the larger brute would be less likely to submit to him, but he had ways of controlling other wolves, namely pressure points. One tap, and he will be on his back, whimpering for mercy if he dares to cross me. If either of them dare to cross me, he thought smugly, knowing that the two had no other way out of this situation other than what he wanted from them.

((OOC: I've done better, but hey, not too bad for no evil muse.))