.x| Contemplation...

[salamence]

occ;; Ember, here we go! Open to all, however <3 Slightly recycled post, but it gives an over view of Sai's condition. He's currently in a state of such hunger, he's imagining food. Forgive me ^^; I'm lame...

Bic;;

Wolves functioned best in groups. It was a given. A wolf without a pack wasn’t worthy to be tagged a “wolf” anyways, may the wolves in the gathering be hostile or friendly towards each other…they simply didn’t function well without others of their kind.

[So say you. A wolf is at his prime without the burden of others. No need to share a kill, or be tagged along by lovesick dams. Of course though, you miss the pleasure of sinking your jaws into another’s soft hide…but sacrifices are necessary for one to…fully enjoy.]

Of course though, the statement above was…highly vague, when creatures such as his Majesty were in concern. His majesty was a king without a kingdom, and by far, in his eyes, the most glorious kingdom a King could wish for. He was not worthy of other’s company, and others weren’t worthy of his own presence. He was one who…preferred to defy the laws of the wolves. He’d be content to play it…how do you put it? Solo.

‘Course he hadn’t started this way. From birth, he had that accursed instinct of the wolf to live within a pack…like the elk the wolves feasted on. Yes, he had been laid under the curse that living as a group animal was absolutely mandatory. But when one lives with a complete devil, even he’s daring enough to fight the natural laws of his kind. Live life as a filthy nomad.

[Come now, we’re free aren’t we? Why tag us with an alias such as that? Our paws travel alone, true, but the same bloods running through his veins surges through mine too, don’t they? Then why are we different?]
+++

He was a wolf of massive proportions, taking the greatest share from his blood father in terms of size and mass. His coat was a gentle serenade of whites, browns, and greys…all gifts from his mother…eyes narrowed in a smooth, elegant slant, and a saunter eclipsing that of a feline’s. Of course though, apart from the muscles that lined his legs, chest, and shoulders, it could be seen that the wolf’s stomach had begun to concave inwards. Fortunately, it gave the wolf a sleeker look, not diminishing his self-proclaimed majesty, however he could care less for looks at the moment. You see, he had realized the advantages of living life as a nomad; food was oh so scarce. A group would kill a large kill, and those willing enough to fight for their full share…got what they needed. It was obvious a lone wolf could usually eat in peace, but that was if they could catch something worthy.

For a while he had managed to catch a hare or two, but most of them were lost with fights against lesser creatures. His rivals were the foxes…or even something a hideously lowly as a Raven. Shame his Majesty was forced to give up his worthless kill to the death-welcoming chorus of the crows, or even surrendering to the intelligence of the foxes. It was plain embarrassing. But lone wanderers knew no embarrassment. Just another sacrifice, if you may.

[Of course though, I had been disturbed today. Something…sweet was in the air. Let’s say this King appeals to stealing as well. Even meatless bones right now would be oh so sweet at the moment.]

+++

It was also known that nomads followed the wolves who were foolish enough to live in clans. Merely for the fact of their kills. It was wise to stay quite a whiles away from them…a stranger in their territory meant death. But when food was a factor involved, even the wisest of nobles turned submissive.

The self-proclaimed king had been travelling all evening, and his stalk had continued through ‘till night. Foolish he was, indeed, that he didn’t aim for a hare again, but he was afraid of losing it again. Not only to others, but he himself was weak at the moment. It had been what, three days maybe? His colossal strength was leaving him. But the sweet scent of blood was thick in the air, along with the stench of others. Repulsive. Had he meandered to close? Should he turn back now, and sleep another night, whilst the muscles within his stomach only convulsed and shrunk farther?

The stench of others so near only added to him supporting the later choice. Death would come soon, but it had avoided him for 5 years now. He had always welcomed the companionship of death, but she never accepted his offer. Why fear now?

For once his canter had stopped, and he merely lift his roan-grey alabaster masked crania upwards, allowing deep breaths to run through him. That scent was all too…sweet. If it weren’t for the stench of others, he wouldn’t have had second thoughts about reaching the kill. His will longed for it, but he himself wanted to turn back. A few more deep breaths, and he chose to surrender. He rested his massive frame upon folded haunches, and gave a long-drawn sigh. Ears were held limply against a coat of amber, and his tail curved towards the concaving muscles of a near-starved stomach.

“This king is defeated once more. Forgive me, but another night you can bare. The jaws of others, however…you’re too weak to fend off.”

For you see, apart from the sweet scent of flesh, was mingled the scent of blood. Blood from another of his own kind. Yes, he had heard the whelps and laughter of others, but at that time, hunger had driven him to follow onwards for a bit longer. Another war over food. Idiots. At least they had the chance to feed off larger game, enough prestige to have themselves as rivals. But the dying silence meant the was over…and this self-proclaimed king could now be found out easier. He had…travelled to far for even his own good, better retreat now before the clan took notice of an intruder within their borderlands.

[But they're probably gouged in food by now. Their mobility fractioned to the extreme. They wouldn’t mind a few missing scraps of flesh, would they now? But they’re varg. They can’t be trusted.]

And so his mind shifted once more, and he found himself in a bound, amber-grey and alabaster hued haunches unfolded, and his weakened body managed to pump his legs towards the scent of the blood and flesh. Each stride only added to his growing remorse, mind you, but his hunger couldn’t wait much longer.

[If fate be with me today, the muscles which cause me torment will be allowed to rest. If not, I’ll welcome death once more. All with the pride of a Nomad.]

+++

His bound had been forced, truth be told. The stench of wolves far beyond over powering. His obsidian muzzle had opened into a soft pant, and his graceful bound had slowed once more to a stalking gait. Eyes and ears worked in unison with the labouring nose, who attempted to separate the scents of wolf and deer.

He had managed to take deep breaths through flaring nostrils instead of through an open maw, and he kept his focus centred. Theft was not easy, daresay. His body had lowered towards the ground, and his legs laboured to move their host in a sort of crawl.

Though he was obviously at a disadvantage. Already. Why so soon? His ears had swerved to the sound of rustling, and yet his eyes could not see the one responsible for it. His nose was already far too burdened, and so it was, at that point, rather unreliable. His ears swerved once more, and his stance had halted, well-muscled held in frozen in the position they had previously been in, and frame held low. The king had a chance to retreat a while back. But now, it was far to late.

ooc: I Hate first posts. I promise to get better xD Forgive me >: Dark bold maroon Text is his Speech, and unbold maroon text is his thoughts. Just thought that would be...helpful.

And yes, he's vain, and calls himself "His Majesty". It's a little joke you wouldn't understand. Just play along, 'kay?

[squeeble]

Into the river below
I'm runnin' from the inferno

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It was a balmy day for any self-respecting arctic wolf. Thankfully, though, Kesuk was far too forest-ized to be arctic any longer, and he was certainly not self-respecting. In fact, he bordered on emotionally unstable. If the wolf were a teenager, no doubt he'd be the one in the corner with the notebook and the eyeliner. But enough of that. He wasn't a teenager, far from it. Five years of living in the wild, two of them in the wild snowy terrain he'd been born, had aged him beyond the norm. His limp was more pronounced on this date, and his scar was showing cruelly from the angle the light hit his stomach. The male wasn't exactly attractive, but there was something ever-distinctive about the he-wolf that made one stop and take a second look. He had an aura of indifference surrounding his snow-coloured self, and it reflected in his deadened black pools. The male saw the cruel, harsh world without a veil of emotions to confuse his logical mousetrap of a mind. It served well, in everything except reproduction. He was entirely too logical to give himself over to desire and pups. He had tried that once. He had failed himself and his female. It would not happen again, simply because it could not happen again. The male would not take another mate. And that was final.

His limping gait carried him through the forest, shadows darting over him and playing on his lifeless features. The devil lifted his nose to the wind, pausing in his motion; and he sniffed heartily, testing for something he hoped he would not find. But of course, he did, and he scowled. Another wolf. He had this exact same problem going to his last meal- and he had indeed done what he was about to now. It made no sense to let this intrusive other scutter about without an investigation. The brujo started off towards the source of the scent he had caught, noting the zigzagging, covert pattern of the scent-trail. He sniffed at the breeze again and still he could not fathom why. Was there something else here, something that his five-spring nose could not grasp? Doubted. He pressed on.

Coming closer to his scent-giver, the male paused again to get a better reading on what he was tracking. He was sure by now that the other wolf was a male, but he could not tell much else. The pieces of this miraculous, living puzzle were still not coming together for the brute, and so he would not stop until he had solved it. Besides, it filled his endless time a little. The male had nothing left to live for, no family, no pack. Nothing to serve, not even himself. All he did was eat, walk, and occasionally sleep. Investigations were not in his usual agenda, but heck. He was willing to give a new thing a try.

And what of yourself, Kesuk? Have you nothing that stimulates your senses any longer?

No, nothing. The wolf was dust in the wind, a drop of water, as Kansas so elequently puts it, in an endless sea.

No duty? No loyalty? Have you no strength to gain power?

Ah, no. Kesuk had the ample strength, and the brains, to gain and keep a steady amount of power. What he lacked was the desire to do so.

You are the most exasperating canine.

Canis Lupus, actually. And he is indeed the most exasperating wolf you will ever know, if you expect all wolves to be powerhungry and emotion-driven.

Ah. Here now. He approached the other wolf cautiously, slinking through the trees as best he could with his broken gait. The new wolf seemed frozen, stuck in a run that had never been completed. It was an odd sight to be sure- but five years of wandering had prepared Kesuk for much odder. His jaws parted and his red lips wiggled as his snowy bulk removed itself from the shadows, and Kesuk spoke in pure sight of the supposedly crazy wolf.

You are sneaking, but from what I cannot fathom. Tell me, stranger. What do you hide from?

Ya'll think im insane
but ya'll dont know my name.

[/font][/center]

[ember]

[I'll post with Eclipse later.]

Ember walked. It wasn't that easy however. There was a cut on her fore paw.
Walking along side with another creature. But that creature was invisible to
most. Only Ember could see it. Or she should say him... Ember whispered
along to him. "Shut up fool. There's our next victim." Ember gave
her friend a toothy grin as she walked up to the wolves as she gave off
a beautiful sparkled of light off of her silver fur. The eyes shined as she
asked in a beautifully soft voice, "How are you m'dears?" Her bushy
tail touched the muzzle of Kesuk as she blinked at him with her beautiful
crimson eyes and batted her eyelashes. She walked closer to him, their
pelts brushing. Her friend, the invisible one, growled in fury. Ember ignored
him.

Rain, the wolf, who was also known as Ember looked at the other wolf. She
studied her victims with interest as she thought to her inner friend, "They
will put up a good fight. But not good enough..." Rain tried to hide her
smirk, as the clouds covered up the moon. As the clouds laughed with
happiness. Rain sighed softly as she closed her crimson eyes. It was now
time for the snow that she had kept so long to erupt. Rain, the wolf, smirked.

The clouds covering the silver moon, drizzled with a few flakes of snow. Landing
on Rain's silver, red, and blue pelt she smiled. Sighing once again she put her
head on the white wolf's large shoulder. The small wolf sighed, showing the white
loner that she was glad that there was a large wolf that she could lean on. Sighing
once more Rain closed her crimson eyes.

[salamence]

[My stance was so perfect, yes...any self respecting deer or such would have begged to fall into my reach at that point in time. I took my example after the large felines of my past. Sadly, I respected there kind far more than I ever would my own. Peh, My own. As if. Still...it was perfect. My arched back flattened my now concaving abdominals, and my limbs numbed beneath the stress this obscure pose put upon them. Indeed! Utter perfection! But alas...it seemed hunger was playing a cruel toll on not only my abdomen...but my sheer conscience as well. That was something I was not willing to forgive myself of. If I could catch up with Ephraim or Avarix...I'd plead them to punish me for ever falling prey to such idiotic motives...]

The stance truly could be beheld in sheer mirror-like posture of a feline...the same arched back, poised ears, and flexed tail, keeping the massive beast upheld in his frozen stature. And yet, all attempts to keep hidden were quite quickly driven off in vanity. Golden orbs were set ablaze with the utmost contemplation, and jaws clamped around ebony lips in dire haste. For you see, the faithful ears which crowned the beast's crania twisted back in a unified manner due to a voice. And it all became clear...the reason for why the stench of the the Canis Lupus bloodline was so horridly potent.

Clamped maw took on a rippled attire, though the starved hide of the beast remained poised in the unorthodox position. Ears confirmed the voice belonging to an unknown male. The tone, feel, texture...it all testified of it. And his nose cringed beneath the mounting stench of a wolven hide...Yes. And what was all the more horrendous was the fact that this fellow had managed to approach him from behind without his own being alerted before hand of the fact. How utterly, utterly disappointing on his half.

Yet a king did not hold onto his throne by turning tail and running. No, a true conquerer would stand ground and fight. However, for this one moment...he would have looked into the option of fleeing over all. A few long, dragged breaths also testified on the fact that the deer he had scented was truly non-existent. Merely the fact that starvation was playing an unjust game with his already maimed mindset. How would he explain, and yet keep his respect still intact? Moreso, how would he ever find the heart to forgive himself for falling victim to the yearning of his stomach? Disappointing indeed.

The chasms of gold which embedded a mask of pitch upon his features contracted their lids, and the snarl which rippled over top his silver-roan muzzle ceased and smoothed its ruffled apparel. A casual manner set forth against his body, and his limbs hoisted him in a far more normal posture of a wolf. Still, being a victim of setting malnutrition, his body was now revealed in full. A limp, lifeless tail...tattered coat, and ears which lagged in a lazy manner. The brute was only massive due to his height...at his current posture, the back could been seen arching upwards...and his sides contracting inwards towards his body. And finally, at long last, his head turned to face the one who's voice had brought him back to reality...Clouded gold eyes lacking any signs of Pupils held a solemn glare in the other's dirrection. A soft grunt emitted his pursed lips, and he finally set forth an answer.

"Nothing of your concern, Sir"

Ah, the voice. In contrast to the tattered appearance of the brute, it held a sense of potency and nobility within it. And though he addressed the other in a more...respectable manner...his voice evidently held a potent grip of sarcasm within it too.

[Might I remind you, however, that t'was not the only reason I held bay at my otherwise crude remarks. You see, as I continued to hold observation on His majesty...which I do commend for bringing me back to sanity...a fae had also blessed me with her unwanted presence. True, I had a passionate disliking for the wolven race...but females were something my heart was still somewhat...fleshed for. The reason for why I prefered Avarix over Ephraim. Ah, my dear sister...the only wolf worthy to mention in this accursed life. This one female, however, was the stereotypical scum I so unfortunately ran into far too often. The over compassionate type, if you may. Such a demeanour...simply repulsive]

Brazen gold eyes remained narrowed at the appearance of the new wolf. And from within their hollowed sockets, rolled in an air of sarcasm as she exhibited compassion towards the brute who stood before him also. He held his observatory position for merely a while longer, before pursed maw unlatched itself to usher forth his words once more.

"Idiocy. A prince and princess. Something I see far too often to behold with kindness."

His frame finally shifted from his frozen stature, the forequarters lowering first, and the roan hued rump following. Head was lifted in its dazed manner...only due to starvation...and maw erupted over with a yawn. Travelling any farther was not in his current mindset to pull through with. They would simply have to cope with him. Or leave. Their choice, of course.

[Come now. My bite wouldn't cause all that much pain, would it now?]

[squeeble]

---A kingly stance was proud to be bestowed upon the scraggly looking wolf, and Kesuk guessed that at one point in time, when the wolf's stomach had held it's content share of rabbit, deer, and other prey, the beast he had sought was once a roayl creature, perhaps one to look up to. But starvation ws a cruel force of nature- it killed the weak and left the strong tormented and on the edge of insanity. Indeed, this is where this new wolf seemed to be. His eyes had no pupils, nothing that Kesuk could grasp and focus on, rewading the inner soul of his encountered. No, instead they were a golden storm, settling lazily somewhere in his general direction. Kesuk was startled by this wolf's odd eyes, and he showed it quite plainly by retracting his audit's warm greeting- he was no coward, but the strange was the strange and it was best left to caution until further explored or exploited. His strange new partner spoke only one line, and in it was mingled both dignity and sarcasm. Kesuk readily latched on to both tunes, but said nothing of them- it was his suspicion that the other truly had no idea what he had been doing before Kesuk had shown up and interupted him. Quite frankly, Kesuk believed the new wolf to be insane. Off the edge. How else could his eyes, so shockingly mono-colour, have become what they are?

A new twist was thrown into their little story, one that the white male did not relish. It seemed another femme had decided to cross him that day. Kesuk was slightly confused as she brushed against him, for he held no interest in the opposite sex any longer. His confusion was born, not from lust or a flaming crush, but rather from her interest in him. Was he really so attractive that the wench's could not keep their paws off of him? Or was he, a wolf of five, just another target in their whorish ways? Either way, it did not matter to the large white mascu. He was bound to one female, one who could never be replaced and he could never have again. Theirs was the saddest of love stories, and she had left him a shell of what he once was.

But he could not blame her. Only himself.

She spoke, but he did not answer. He thought about both of their words, both of their tones, and he comapred them. The male was short, and to the point, as was the female. However, his tones made it cold and standoffish. She made herself seem flirtacious and endearing. It was amusing to him, to think of oddities like this. He would have made an excellent philosopher if only he did not believe so strongly in true love. It shattered all theories about the creatures they were.

As the snow fell on the unlikely trio, the small femme leaned in to him in the most provocative way. This instantly made him stiffen- he was not at all comfortable with this betrayal of his. He sidestepped cleanly, not making a scene but clearly disturbed. His black eyes searched the darkened forest, and not the canines, as he made his own song into their dialogue.

I am well, femme, as long as I am alone. And, sir, I am anything but your fairytale prince. That said, I am Kesuk.

[/blockquote]

[salamence]

ooc;; I suppose we're posting in order, no? >>