Cedarwood Forest Curtain Call

O O C | O_o I forcefully pulled this from my muse. Might be a lil’ scrambled. Pfff. Next post will be better since Borden might be /reacting/ instead of just acting.

The arrival of evening marked the time for Borden to return to the den; hesitantly, he veered from his path, heading from the edge of his western territory markings into the forest. He continued along his patrol until he was a few minutes away of being within direct sight of the knoll he had claimed for his pack. It was then that he stopped. Something about his timing, his arrival, caused him to stop and turn around. His pale eyes cast his sight against the pressing darkness, through the trees and into the growing shadows. It’s nothing… he mentally told himself out of habit. Nothing.

Usually after assuring himself, he would have resumed what he was doing – in this case, he should have settled down near the entrance of the underground dwelling… but he didn’t. Instead of finding himself in Jayse’s or Vlarindara’s company, he stood still amidst the trees. His ears were turned forward and his tail was raised in a tall, but slowly swaying, wag. One low growl emitted from his throat as though he were testing to make sure his vocal chords were working, that he could indeed bark and snarl if he needed to…

Roughly tearing his gaze from the trees in front of him, he circled around and scanned his immediate surroundings. It was like he was waiting for something, but he didn’t know what that something was exactly. After several moments of straining his senses and expecting something to happen while he kept watch from his temporary standpoint, he shrugged and let down his guard. He had riled himself up over nothing at all… Exhaling, he clicked his tongue against his teeth and began to walk slowly away.

Nothing… all that for nothing… his mind echoed as he lost himself to his thoughts. The sooner Spring passed, the better, he then figured. While Summer would hold its own challenges and worries, he concluded the warmer season would ease his mind about other wolves (specifically males) and what they possibly thought if they came in contact with his Jayse. The time bracket at hand was what was making him so edgy, tense, over-sensitive and over-protective all at once… It was driving him crazy.

Well, what do you want from me?

<blockquote>

Finally, he had concluded that he could not sleep in that den thing. He didn't care if Aisling like the wolves here. They were still savages, right? Lately, he was so unsure. He hadn't talked to Aisling, really talked to her, in a few days. Mentally, it was killing him, driving him towards paranoid fantasies that made it absolutely impossible for him to sleep at all lately. He had to be on guard, on watch, just in case these heathens turned on him. In fact, he had not moved an inch all day from his vigilant recline against a tree. Paranoia had rooted him to the spot, although he would not admit it.

As the darkness had fallen, it had grown increasingly worse. Now he hardly wasted a muscle on blinking. The night was charged with an expectant, devious energy that had Kiche set on edge. He didn't like it. Those devils must be up to something, his subconscious whispered to him. Perhaps they were having some sort of ritual tonight, but they were definitely up to something. He could feel it, he could hear it, why, he even thought he could smell it. Satan was in the air tonight. He was drawing nearer. Very suddenly, Kiche was definitely struck by some sort of instinctive, paranoid notion that something was definitely out there. Oh Pangur, where are you?

But what appeared out of the abyssal shadows was not his God. Believing it to be the Devil himself, in all his unholy power, Kiche felt a scream begin to claw it's way up his throat. What came out, though, was much more subdued, although strangely grating and shill. As usual, he found himself incapable of moving. Pangur, Pangur, Pangur, save me! Unable to do anything else now that his legs had failed him once more, he clamped his eyes closed —his last defense. The devil would not take his soul.</blockquote>

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Strolling into sight of the underground den, he stopped once more. There was nothing wrong with picture before him, the tracks going in and out of the tunnel held nothing strange and everything was as he had left it – the rocks at the foot of the knoll were still here and there and there were still bits of snow around the area that had yet to be disturbed. Something shifted in the darkness however and released what sounded like injured piglet or the shrill cry of an alien canine. Borden was quick to cast his gaze upon the figure of what looked like a wolf, pressed up against the trunk of a tall tree. He rounded in on the male, stopping short to leave a generous space between them as his brows furrowing upon noticing that his eyes were shut and that he had braced himself for… what? Borden’s approach?

Eyes blinking for a moment, he took a step back. One whiff of the younger male’s scent told him that he ought to have been familiar but Borden, being consumed with his need to keep his pack lands safe and well-guarded, had never put any effort in introducing himself or acquainting himself to this particular wolf. He had assumed for the past few days that the brown- and tan-coated male was Raigo… The alpha male scowled slightly at the thought. If this brute had been anyone else, he could have easily ousted Borden from his place due to his slight ignorance of the matter. “Get up,” he harshly instructed, his voice low in tone.

This youth was foreign, a stranger as far as Borden was concerned. If there was a time to break the ice between them, the time was now. The Lyall, at present, had little tolerance for wayward males, young or old.

Well, what do you want from me?

<blockquote>

"Get up," said the Devil. Visibly struck with fear, Kiche was unsure of what to do. To listen to the Devil, that was wrong, right? And to do as he commanded... well. That was an instant, irrevocable sin, wasn't it? If only Kiche could open his eyes. Then he would see the face of just a single savage. But in this hooded, self-induced darkness of paranoia and eyelids, Kiche could see only the Devil standing before him. The baritone syllables were like nails being struck into his ears, and they made him whine and shiver.

"No," he breathed, barely audible over his own pounding heart. "No. You can't make me." Nothing could make him move, not the devil or even his own self. Even if Kiche were in control of his legs, though, he would not have gotten up. No matter all of his faults and sins, he could not let the devil tempt him. Pangur would never love him after that, and he so craved the love of God. Of a figment of a girl's imagination. But he didn't know that. All he knew right now was that his soul was in grave danger, and that the Devil was on the loose tonight, collecting souls. Desperately, he prayed for deliverance, but already he thought he could feel the tongues of damnation and hellfire on his soul.</blockquote>

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O O C | I’ve said this time and time again but I thought I’d let you know that Kiche = awesomenessssss and thank ya for challenging Borden with this lol. <3

Hearing the younger male ignore his order, Borden’s fur bristled. “You can’t make me,” his words repeated in his ears. “As a subordinate of my pack,” Borden began, already beginning to lose his patience. “You will heed my words.” His eyes pierced through the dimming world around them, straining by the second to see the wolf clearly. “Get. Up.”

A wave of concern and annoyance washed over him as he wondered which of the three white females had offered the insolent whelp a home in Grizzly Hollow. Seeing him laying there in the snow and pine needles, refusing to look his superior in the eye, reminded Borden of his younger brother, Angier. No matter how hard the first-born ordered his sibling about, the tawny male would hesitate to listen and his snubbing often made him his older brother’s favorite target for everything, from dominance displays and play fights to bullying in general. The situation at hand was no different. Borden strode forward now, daring to walk around the younger canine and stand in front of him. “I have no tolerance for strangers here,” he snarled now, raising his hackles. “Unless you desperately seek the arms of exile, I suggest you to listen. I will not ask again.”

Tedious as this task was, Borden’s mind went out on a tangent when his strategy of ordering the youth around came up short. His train of thought took him to the consideration of how he would handle his future offspring… if he would also speak to them in such a demanding manner (if they didn’t listen). He released a rumbling growl, letting out an exasperated groan as he stormed back to where he originally stood. He sat down with a loud thump, tensing his whole frame as he silently fumed with his back facing the stubborn clump of fur. If he couldn’t get the youth to look at him or even do as he was told in his short-tempered state, then he would try a different tactic. The only problem was… he had no idea where to start.

Well, what do you want from me?

<blockquote><ul>d'awwwww thanks<3 i actually can't believe I haven't gotten the chance to roleplay with you up until now xD (loldon'texilehim)</li></ul>

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Thus spoke the devil, in tempestuous, bristling words that punctuated every fluttering palpitation that racked Kiche's chest. Subordinate of his pack. He had said those words, hadn't he? He had spoke them, just now, loud and clear. Subordinate of his pack. The Devil's pack! Kiche had joined the Devil's pack! He could have wailed aloud were it not for some awful bile that clogged his throat. He had to leave, get out, find Aisling and get Pangur out of here. Clearly, they were in the very gravest of danger... But would Kiche even be able to escape? Could he get away in time to warn Pangur? Very suddenly he found himself downing in questions, almost completely ignoring the command issued to him.

What was he supposed to do? Am I supposed to play along? The very notion made Kiche feel unclean. No matter what, he knew, it was his duty to stand up against the Devil. Even with death and destruction and hellfire breathing down his neck, clutching at his fur, it was his duty to fight as any good soul should. Pangur would want —no. Pangur demanded this of him, of all his subjects. "No," Kiche refused once more, slightly emboldened by his musings of holiness, "I listen only to God."</blockquote>

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O O C | x) Ah, Bord’s just being hotheaded, lol. I don’t think I/he could cast Kiche away… ‘specially when Borden’s had that happen to him twice already.

Willingness to listen, to follow directions out of safety, concern, or simply respect was something, no, the most important thing Borden and his siblings were taught. He was sure the younger male continued to remained as he was; there was no need to get up and look or even glimpse over his shoulder to check. A resounding “No” confirmed the fact. But then he said something else, something that made Borden’s eyes widen in surprise and sit up straight.

A “God...”

Now the youth had Borden’s full attention without the aggravation and impatience clouding his mind. The alpha slowly stood up and faced the male. His brows knitted together. What and how did he know about this… God? Certainly he knew more than what Borden could comprehend about it/Her/Him, but what exactly? While he had prided himself in knowing what it took to survive and make it through life in, or mostly, one piece, the Lyall had never considered or looked into a more spiritual aspect in life. His Uncle Cutter and his father never believed in such beings, deities or otherwise, but his mother’s side of the family (namely his grandparents) had absolutely thrived on such a belief. Seasons according to Borden and the other Lyall patriarchs were just measures of time; to his grandparents, however, the changing of seasons, the cycle of life, was a never-ending gift and a tool that aided in teaching valuable lessons to young wolves.

Deeply reconsidering to start their encounter again, Borden sighed. “Well, then…” he said quietly, taking a few steps forward and sitting a few feet away from the nearly motionless ball of fur. The youth, he decided, would have his pardon; though, if he ever discovered him attempting to court any of his ivory ladies, he would be sure to not hold back his temper again. “I doubt you’d hear this but I hope you forgive me for being brash. I’ve had a trying week.”

Well, what do you want from me?

<blockquote>

Vaguely, he could hear the Devil shuffling about before him. Gritting his death, he steeled himself for hat surely would be his doom, be it an eruption of hellfire or a torturous death. It would be something, surely. However, it never came. For quite some time, it was quiet, almost mockingly calm, though Kiche knew better. The night air was alive with nervous energy, and it was strange and feral, although that was how everything in this savage land was. Even the stars here were different, colder, brighter, menacing.

Then, there was a sigh. A simple gust of air rolling from the Devil's parted lips that made Kiche tense visibly. The syllables following the sigh were definitive nails in his coffin, a teasing wind promising a playfully drawn out death. The pine needles that canvased the ground like soft bedding muffled the footfalls of the Prince of Darkness, but Kiche could still hear him, still feel him drawing ever closer. Kiche could do nothing but shut his eyes tighter and pray harder, hoping half-heartedly for martyrdom or sainthood or something. He could hear Lucifer inhale, taking in a breath. This is it.

What came out of his mouth, though, was something entirely unexpected.

“I doubt you’d hear this but I hope you forgive me for being brash. I’ve had a trying week.”

In a moment of utter confused weakness, an eye opened. And what he saw before him was even more staggering: just a savage. A single, vile savage. A mixture of chagrin and relief overtook him like a dark ocean wave. The tide went in and out, leaving him on the shore with only his honor and righteous anger. Trying week. Puhhh. With both of his eyes open, he gazed upon the heathen, although he still did not dare meet his eyes, still sensing his soul was not safe. "Oh really?" was his only response, somewhat barbed and somewhat curious. What was a "trying week" to a heathen? </blockquote>

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Catching the male’s short reply, Borden gave a nod, gazing rather curiously into the one pupil and iris that glimmered in the dark. “Yes,” he stated. “I’m just worrying about so many things at once.” He wondered if he ought to list them all, to see if one of his concerns would strike a chord, perhaps something the two males had in common, but he thought against it. “Are you a friend of Jayse’s?” he decided a more genial route rather than diving nose-first into inquiring about this… God that he had mentioned before. “Aisling’s, maybe? I’m… Borden, a friend of theirs.”

Uncertain of whether giving his name would break the ice or not, the alpha was hoping it would get a little more out of the larger male. “I’m sorry I haven’t introduced myself earlier, I thought you were someone else, someone who has been missing for a few weeks now, I guess. His name is Raigo.” Mentioning Vlarindara’s younger brother tugged at his heartstrings a bit, but he imparted the information to tawny wolf, hoping it would convey that he meant no harm or ill will towards him.

Prying might have been something the younger, more immature Borden would have done, but now, instead of throwing out more curious questions, he simply waited for his companion to speak. He also didn’t want their encounter to be like the one in which he had met Aisling, how he continued to inquire her about almost everything she spoke of. If there was something to be shared, it would be shared; if not, then oh well…. He would probably try to talk to him again some other time.

Well, what do you want from me?

<blockquote>Worrying. Kiche nearly laughed, feeling that worry was a strange emotion for a heathen. They worried about the most disgusting, craziest things, and let the most important things just fly out the window. Their condemnation in the eyes of Pangur was definitely one of these things. Thus far, Kiche could not recall any wolf who seemed to actually worry about the fact that they were going to hell. But they lived in one sector of hell already, and didn't seem to care. I wonder why I'm even surprised anymore, he thought, dismissively shrugging it off.

Inquiring after his acquaintances did little to take the edge off of Kiche's defense. In fact, at the mention of Aisling, Kiche flinched. A friend of theirs. No, that couldn't be right. Aisilng wouldn't be friends with this... Bright, smoldering eyes flickered up and down the silhouette, this monster. Yet, then again, Aisling was so naive, so innocent, so very pure. Perhaps she would have fallen into the clutches of the fiend before him. Kiche made a mentally noted that he would have to be a bit more protective of her. While her innocence would absolutely have to remain intact, she could not fraternize with the cretins which Pangur so clearly disliked.

With a curt bob of his head Kiche swiftly deflected the ramblings of Borden. Missing wolves. Whatever. "You all worry about the most worthless things," he grumbled, although slightly reminded of the fact that he himself was missing. Were his mastered worried about him? Were they looking for him. Of course they are. Borden, this devil, meanwhile, clearly wasn't even looking for the little slime-demon, just worrying. Helpful. </blockquote>

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