.dignified desires.

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[bg=000000] Although the great obsidian canine was used to the dry, dusty heat of the desert atmosphere, he had decided in a rare moment of self-service to seek out a cooler environment. The battle-scarred wolf had not yet visited the lands of (what he was sure would be) his future pack, but he was still taking the time to explore the freelands in his moment of preparation for the battle for Admiral. The marshlands seemed the perfect area for this particular desire, and it was exactly where the great wolf found himself. Humming a nonsense tune in that deep, smooth voice of his, Fenrir relished the unfamiliar feeling of damp moss beneath his paws and humidity filling his lungs. Of all the uninhabited areas of these mutual lands, he was certain the Marshlands were the most hospitable. Well, in terms of survival, at least…Fenrir for one could never endure the humidity in the air for very long…he was a dry-weather wolf, and he preferred it that way. “It pays to leave your comfort zone every now and then…” he mused, looking upwards as he heard a gravelly caw of agreement from the raven he had come to see as his companion. Skoll had been away for the past few hours on his regular scouting path, but Fenrir knew he had stopped for a bit of scavenging along the way. Smirking as the raven landed on the moss in front of his massive paws, Fenrir raised an eyebrow at the jet-black bird. “Had your fill of carrion, have you?” He asked. The raven replied with a silent, dignified ruffling of his feathers (accompanied of course by an unimpressed little scoff), and the great charcoal wolf roared with laughter. The idea of any creature eating rotten meat rather than fresh was so utterly revolting…but by Sol, it was hilarious too. “You disgust me,” he said eventually, his laughter rolling gently into a steady chuckle as he lifted his emerald green eyes from the raven to the marsh waters before them. “I’ll have you know I am just as capable a hunter as you are, you glorified fleabag.” The harsh, scraping tones of the raven’s voice distracted Fenrir from his thirst, and as always, he admired the fight within the bird’s body. He had a strong soul…and Fenrir had no doubt that were Skoll a wolf, he would be a worthy match for the branded beast in battle. Still chuckling, the wolf lifted a paw and swiped it in the raven’s direction, which caused him to shriek angrily and lift himself off of the ground momentarily. “You liar. Don’t make me eat you,” Fenrir teased, taking a few steps forward towards the edge of the marsh, where the moss grew damper and damper until eventually it was submerged. Taking a wary glance around him, his warrior instincts ruling him as ever, the large obsidian male surveyed his surroundings. The humidity of the area confused his nose ever-so-slightly, its pungent moisture overwhelming his senses with myriad scents, but he concluded there was no other creature present…or at least they weren’t particularly near. Satisfied, Fenrir lowered his scarred head to the water, drinking greedily as his eyes continued to glance around the area as much as they could manage.

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[bg=A6EC92] a change of pace had been in order. she hadn't been sent away to carry on her duties as an assassin; no, she'd simply wandered off, disregarding the general rule of 'make sure someone knows where the hell you went so you aren't labeled a deserter' - it wasn't like she had anyone to tell, either. as it was, the closest thing she could consider as a friend was her alpha, necromancer, and he couldn't stand her - even struck her once, down under rigel's oak. she could still sometimes feel the sting of harsh words and a heavy paw - - control your damn body. the small wolf of dappled sunlight and light violet swore quietly, scowling at the words that had etched themselves into her mind. it shouldn't be too hard controlling herself; she knew that she could feel it when the feeling of oh please protect me and the earth is falling! overcame her, throwing her into darkness - but why couldn't she stop it? paws of amethyst skittered over damp moss and squelching mud; she wrinkled her nose in distaste as she almost lost a forepaw to the sucking abyss that went by the oh-so innocent name of 'wet dirt', and she could have almost sworn it was alive. great orion, the swamp just tried to eat my leg. she laughed aloud, coming closer to the marsh. she faltered, however; a myriad of emotions that didn't belong to her were suddenly washing into her mind. she shook her head to clear it, stumbling closer to take a look at the handsome charcoal and phantom white male drinking from the lake. well, aren't i a lucky girl. stumbling across such a handsome young wolf... tell me stranger, you got a name?

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[bg=660000] . . .theirs not to make r e p l y, theirs not to reason w h y. . . « ♠ » this is text. "this is speech." this is thought. Freedom. After so long in captivity, the fresh air and soft, cool earth was like heaven to her. Even in this swamp - that's what she used to call it, right? - the colors of nature were to be savored, cherished. The red wolf whose colors imitated that of her namesake stepped lightly through the deadly earth, unaware or undisturbed by the fact that at any moment she could become stuck, perhaps fatally. To Cardinal, this was nothing that she had not tackled before, and nothing that even compared to the dangers she had faced only months earlier. She had been separated from Shade, Tsuna, and Triple Eight soon after their departure, but she was not worried about them - they could all handle themselves quite easily, especially against outsiders of the world they had left. Perhaps the young ones, Tsuna and Shade, had each found mates and were living happily. But for some reason Cardinal could not wring from her mind the memories of Triple Eight. He had been the anchor for them all, the ties to reality, their help in dark times. At first, she had thought him a monster, but he was no different from them except in the fact that he was more experienced. Even Cardinal, who was just as old and just as wise, could not have made it without him. She did not worry, but she wondered. In the relatively short period in which they had been together in that hell, they had all bonded, but in some ways Cardinal and Eight had bonded more - both having seen the world for what it was, realizing what was important. So, in a way, she missed him. Of course, she missed the others as well, but Eight... She shook her head. No time to hover over such thoughts. It was time to finally enjoy herself. As she strode along, she noted the scents of others, but paid little heed. If she saw them, she would introduce herself, but until then she simply glided through the swamp on trained limbs, her gait as flowing as her red pelt. Inwardly, she hoped that the owner of the male scent would not be like other ambitious brutes who thought her incapable of defending herself because of the scar over one of her amber eyes. They had all been sorely mistaken. It was not long before a raven passed overhead. This time she watched it. It seemed like it had a true destination, unlike many birds of its type. Vaguely interested, she followed its flightpath until she spotted the very male she had scented through the cover of the reeds. Her fur was deep red, and thus easy to spot, but even so she remained where she was for a long time. No doubt he would soon smell her, but for now, peace. The male and the raven spoke to each other. A strange bond, but not an uncommon one. Many wolves took avian partners, but she had yet to see one that really spoke to his feathered friend. And in this, the male was unique. "well, aren't i a lucky girl. stumbling across such a handsome young wolf... tell me stranger, you got a name?" A second female strode from the reeds - one as strangely colored as herself.Interesting. So I am not the most striking of the population any longer. Better, I suppose. The attention was beginning to wear on my patience. But now that another had been introduced, she stepped forward slightly, her stance neutral. No doubt the male was younger by perhaps a year, and thus she would give him no definite respect unless he returned it. Before they turned to see her, she smiled rather warmly and clicked her tongue in mock distaste. "Well, well, young lady - it's quite rude to ask for a name when you have not given yours. And in that truth... My name is Cardinal. If you are so kind as to give your names, I would be most grateful." The kindness was a ruse, really. True, she wished them no ill will, but in her heart and mind, both conditioned to suspicion, she held them in her amber gaze, examining each in turn. Neither seemed a real threat to her unless they were both trained for combat as she was. Though outwardly her eyes were warm and welcoming, there was a coldness behind them that chilled her own bones. She had forgotten the normal codes of nature. Now there was only foe and those without threat. No friends now. They were gone, separated. ... Triple Eight...

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« ♠ »
. . .theirs but to do and d i e. . .
count 768
to aurelia, fenrir
notes Cardinal is five years old.

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[bg=000000] The sticky, humid atmosphere of the swamp could not hide the pungent feminine scents that now traveled through the air, and Fenrir turned his head just in time to see a small female wolf, immaculately coloured and looking far too chipper. Suspicious, the large male flattened his ears, his survey of the wolfess unimpeded by Skoll’s arrival onto his withers. “Well, aren't I a lucky girl. Stumbling across such a handsome young wolf... tell me stranger, you got a name?” The scarlet, venomous eyes of the raven on Fenrir’s withers bore into the beautiful female with a burning, unjustified hatred. It was characteristic, of course, for the raven to behave this way…he very rarely approved of Fenrir’s conversational company. It was a behaviour stemming from loyalty, and the scavenger never did more than seethe with ill-will. The great obsidian wolf raised an eyebrow, twitching the imposing scar between his eyes, and narrowed his gaze irritably at the (undoubtedly younger, but not by much) female. “Spare me your flattery and your silver tongue, stranger. It will not find purchase with me.” He said darkly, his soldier’s instincts dictating to him that he must not lower his guard. A quick glance over the lithe form of the female told him she was not incapable of holding her own in a fight…but her slight build, for the moment, did not concern him. Should she decide to instigate violence, he was confident it would not end badly for him. He turned to face the newcomer, his back to the marshlands as he rose to his full height. “I do have a name, yes.” He said simply, but gave no more away than that. A satisfied little caw from Skoll filled him with the same amount of internal mirth, just as the scent of a female became stronger and stronger. Turning his head to focus his emerald eyes on the bright crimson wolf that was emerging, he instinctively felt irritation rise within him. Social situations were not Fenrir’s strong point…he was a warrior and a soldier…his skills were in the battlefield, strategizing and leading, not in the den. This newcomer, however, was different from the pretty white wolf with the overtly sly mannerisms. Aside from her deep red coat, she was well-built and held herself with an obvious sense of self-worth…characteristics of a fighter. Should violence break out, Fenrir knew this wolf would not go down easily…but of course he couldn’t be sure if that structure of hers was ever put to good use. Still, Fenrir respected strength, and he lowered his head in a short nod to the crimson female. "Well, well, young lady - it's quite rude to ask for a name when you have not given yours. And in that truth... My name is Cardinal. If you are so kind as to give your names, I would be most grateful." The onyx warrior blinked, narrowing his eyes in confusion and suspicion at these words and the conduct that was associated with them. Skoll, too, had taken a brief break from his usual stare of pure, dripping hatred to tilt his head. In the raven’s distraction, one of his feet slipped off of the wolf’s withers, a talon dragging quickly across the scar tissue beneath the monstrous white scythe. He quickly regained himself, however, glancing worriedly at the obsidian male as he growled gently in annoyance. The sound was short lived but potent, rumbling through the cavern of his chest like impatient thunder. Fenrir’s attention returned to the female who had just spoken, his suspicions far from being subsided. The conduct did not fit the physical form, and the blank frigidness behind her eyes was strangely telling. The great wolf bristled slightly, wondering if she was behaving in this way in order to instigate a surprise attack. Still, there was no need to increase the possibility of this happening, and he replied to her question simply. “Fenrir.” He growled, twitching an ear as his mind raced between the lithe white female and the deep red newcomer. He’d sized them both up mentally and wasn’t concerned about their physical stature, but the socialization was irritating him and he remained standing…large and imposing. Fenrir was far from a charming conversationalist, particularly in group encounters…but everyone has an Achille's heel.

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Green is Fenrir
Blue is Aurelia
Red is Cardinal

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[bg=080B16] another was present, this the assassin was sure of. it certainly wasn't the raven's feelings - no, she could only feel the emotions of other wolves, only delve into their minds; cross-species mind poking was rather painful. it took her mere moments to sort out the emotions; suspicion from a mind that felt vaguely feminine, irritation and something dark from the shadow-and-phantom male, and her own jumbled emotions - letsplaykillthemwhoaretheysoattractivewherearejuriandcassi. blue eyes shifted in to gleaming, mischievous silver; silver into bright violet, just like her paws. laughter sparked in her eyes, a certain mysterious light coming to them as she practically pranced closer to the obsidian male, her heart thudding uncomfortably as she realized that for once the smell of dried blood was not in her mind but on the older wolf's bandages. she flashed her bright white teeth at the red-eyed raven, shaking with mirth as her gaze passed from glowing red to emerald green then, finally, to the deep red of a hidden wolf. the thought of whispering delicately in the other female's mind crossed her thoughts; claws dug into soft dirt, resisting the delicious temptation. at the stranger's words and the little pieces of body language that spoke of so much the white-and-gold-and-violet orionian let loos a bark of laughter, her thin but strong shoulders shaking. oh, of course you do, fen - rir. you are waiting to become admiral of cepheus, yes? she murmured into his mind gently, keeping her sly smirk hidden under a mischievous beam, you will be great. she looked away from him, to the other, the older female. she grinned, pacing gracefully, keeping both in her sight; her assassin instincts didn't allow for anything else. i can think of many a time where withholding my name has saved my life, miss cardinal. scarlett, such a pretty name you're going by now; it suits you, my fighter. but, i think we are all civilized and friendly here - my name is aurelia.

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[bg=660000] . . .theirs not to make r e p l y, theirs not to reason w h y. . . « ♠ » this is text. "this is speech." this is thought. scarlett, such a pretty name you're going by now; it suits you, my fighter. Cardinal flinched. What in the world? Her warm smile faded as she recognized the other female's voice in her head. Never before had she heard of another delving into a foreign mind. Suddenly she felt... violated, in the strangest sense of the word. Casting a wary but slightly angry look at the lavender-footed female, she exhaled sharply. Perhaps it was her mind playing tricks on her, but she doubted it. What had she gotten herself into...? "Aurelia and Fenrir, then. That wasn't so hard, now was it?" She smiled again, but this time it was only half-hearted. Obviously, either the world had changed in the short time that she had been absent, or she had wandered into a completely different one all together. If this girl could do... that, then who knew what Fenrir had beneath the surface? And here she was, without a special something. Not true, she reminded herself. She could fight, and not just like any other natural wolf. Touched by those demons... There was no stopping her when she had that killer's glint in her eye. Nothing to worry about, then... At least, not yet. She sighed, the tension leaving her body. She lowered her head to the water, peering at the black mask around her amber eyes. "Where's everyone headed, then? Seems like an awful waste to travel alone." Both of their scents were more different than many wolves could pick out. Fenrir's was similar to Cardinal's, if obviously more masculine and less metallic. They were both loners, free of the bonds of a pack. Aurelia's was decidedly pack-like. She carried with her the scents of many. One of them seemed... oddly familiar, in that it had an aura about it that she had seen in another. Whether or not she knew its owner, she could not discern. In either case, Aurelia had a pack; Cardinal would expect an answer mirroring such. Awaiting their answers if they were so obligated to give them, she lapped up a few mouthfuls of water.

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« ♠ »
. . .theirs but to do and d i e. . .
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notes Fail post is fail. Sorry guys, kinda stuck as it is.

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[bg=000000] As Fenrir’s deep emerald glare switched constantly between the pretty white female and the impressive crimson wolfess with the deceptive levels of charm, his mind raced with the possibilities of the situation’s outcome. Furrowing his brow and huffing gruffly to himself, he lifted his head and was preparing himself to speak, when the most unsettling thing happened. You are waiting to become Admiral of Cepheus, yes? Fenrir’s head snapped in the white wolf’s direction, confusion and incredulity in his eyes as he did so. A small smirk was twisted across her features, unnerving and infuriating. How…what…? You will be great. The voice repeated in his head and he shook it briefly with a growl, latching his eyes onto hers and seriously contemplating whether or not he should Shove her. She was very clearly invading his mind, uninvited, unimpeded…and he was not comfortable with that. She was able to reach within him and retrieve information that belonged to him, and as impressive a characteristic that was, he was angered by the implications of her power. Thinking that she had got at least one aspect of his intentions incorrect, he was dissuaded from Shoving her. He broke eye contact, thinking to himself that he was waiting only for the opportunity to become Admiral; he was by no means expecting the honour to be handed to him. The battles would be many, and they would be long…and it was perfectly possible he would lose to a worthier opponent. Fenrir simply gave the wolf – now identified as Aurelia – a warning glance before turning his attention to Cardinal, who had also just introduced herself. He noticed that she seemed as unsettled as he was…her eyes were so very expressive. Sated somewhat by the idea that Aurelia was not simply probing into his mind expressly, he relaxed somewhat. Cardinal moved towards the waters and began to drink, a rather fitting end to her question of their movements and travel plans. He knew from her scent and disposition that she was not a pack wolf…not yet, at least. He had only to look at her stature and remark inwardly to himself that she was quite suited to Cepheus, from his gathered knowledge of the pack…and wondered if she, too, was headed to those borders. “What’s the matter?” Skoll’s gravelly voice entered into Fenrir’s ear, and the battle-hardened wolf simply turned his head in Aurelia’s direction to answer the raven’s question. She was unsettling, certainly…her power was both powerful and violating, and when combined with obvious good looks, he was sure she used it to her advantage on many occasions. Cunning was a word that came to mind…and he could tell she held herself in a respectable way, indicating pack ties. Which pack, he had no idea…he could only hope it was one he would not have to engage with frequently. Skoll remained confused, but the warrior knew better than to speak to the raven about what was on his mind, or even think it expressly. If she was able to gather information about his aspirations, he had no doubt she could read his thoughts as they came to him. With this, the huge onyx male glanced over to Cardinal as she drank, wondering what devastating power she might house within that deep red body of hers. Undoubtedly something connected to fighting…but just what was it? He settled himself with the idea that neither of these wolves knew what his power was, and it was devastating in its own right. A headache that made the victim feel as if their skull was being split in two by jagged rocks…disorientation, short-term memory loss…the cost of this power was large, of course. Fenrir never used it without due cause, but every now and then he felt the personal sacrifice was worth the outcome. Reminding himself that he was a warrior, and an exceptional fighter, he steadied himself against his apprehensions and lowered his great haunches to the marsh floor, the scythe along his side rippling with the movement. He was aware he had remained silent for an uncomfortable amount of time, but such was the burden of being socially underdeveloped. “I am headed to the borders of Cepheus,” he said, nodding at Cardinal. “I have aspirations I wish to answer for.” He cast a telling glance at Aurelia, knowing she would undoubtedly smile wryly at this admission. With each passing moment he felt more and more uneasy, but he was determined to steel himself against these doubts. As he had said from the beginning, should violence break out, he would not hesitate. A true warrior fights to the death, and that is exactly what he would do. It would be most inconvenient, of course…these seemed amiable enough strangers…but if the pretty lavender-touched female probed into his mind again, he may just have to retaliate. Skoll, surprisingly, focused his unsettling scarlet gaze of unadulterated hatred more on Aurelia than Cardinal…the raven seemingly had a marginal amount of respect for Cardinal and displayed this in his ‘favouring’ of Aurelia. Interesting indeed…and Fenrir occupied himself with curiosity as to the deep red female’s origination and destination.

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word count. 853
bio. here
notes.
"Skoll"
Aurelia's trippy thought speech
"Fenrir"

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