Garden of Shadows

RE You discover a dead elk that is missing its skull and the nearby trees have blood smeared on them.

Crowe stalked across the face of the mountain, everything was thickly shrouded in fog it choked the life out of any living creature within it's depths. Or at least it seemed that way to Crowe, as if nothing stirred within the depths of the eerie mist. He had passed the borders, but how far past he did not know anything. But any drop would be unseen any danger unnoticed. But with all the fog Crowe was nothing more than a pair of flashing yellow eyes and a wolf scent. An optical illusion, he was a ghost, a terrifying ghost, he felt powerful realizing this fact, as not even he could see his paws.

When suddenly his right front leg sank into something soft, with a squelching noise. He withdrew and saw his legs were doused in blood now. But Crowe did not yelp nor jump. He merely sniffed at them until he deciphered that it was elk. A few steps forward and he lowered himself only to be face to face with what looked like a deflated balloon. Another moment before he drew sharp breath, it was the skin of the elk, still attached to its neck. The skull had been removed and with a flourish of his body around the animal enough mist cleared momentarily for him to see blood in a wide circle staining his pads red. The mad light grew in his yellow eyes, Why? why would this happen? how is this even possible?

Lana had travelled for a while before ending up here, the den which she had made under the roots of the old mangrove tree had been flooded and so she had been forced to move. Being rather particular about her den spots she had drifted for the past while, till she had found herself in her current position. All in all she was pretty much unchanged, she had met a few more wolves and spread her reputation somewhat, either way the otter brown woman had enjoyed herself somewhat. Her hunting skills had improved as well although she still preferred to scavenge, having filled out slightly and not as skinny under her thick fur she was pretty happy.

Finding herself in the fog she flashed her yellow eyes about with various annoyance, the dampness in the mist made the old scar about her neck ache which disrupted her plotting. She paused enough to balance herself on three paws and give her neck a good scratching, stopping when she felt the skin tear she let her paw drop back down to the ground and shook herself out.

Moving forward she was merely a shadow in the mist with sunshine yellow eyes that seemed to glow with various hints of mockery, insanity and boredom. Her ears were used more than her sight to navigate through the unknown territory, scent was also a big factor which was why she was aware of the dead elk and the wolf standing beside it well before she heard the males breathing. She walked forward with a comfortable air and watched as the mist slightly thinned some to reveal the dead elk and the blood everywhere. She didn’t make a comment just stood there with an amused look on her face “Wasn’t me” she said eventually

Voices began to whisper in the great white male's head Oh Crowe look at this beautiful mess! YOU could make one if you'd like! Come now lets make one! Crowe's head shook, no he could not slip back into the madness that had consumed him. But it seemed so easy while Mercy was away. Since no one gave a shit what he was besides the pup. Crowe simply stared at the grizzly scene and remember the feel of flesh tearing from bone. Watching his prey's blood spill out of it's numerous open wounds. and the light that finally left their eyes as they gasped their final breath. How had this elk look? had it pleaded for life or death? Was this for mercy or joy... the rest of the elk remained unharmed.

"Wasn't me." Crowe spun and felt his features slide into a mask of royalty. "Of course not, if you were capable of such a think I doubt I would be standing here right now." The strain was upon his voice, as if he were choking down meaner words. The light behind his yellow orbs grew ever brighter and at every glance towards the dead animal Crowe heard the voices grow louder. Maim, kill destroy, once more. Come Crowe Shane... REAWAKEN! They were screaming and still he managed to simply stare at the wolf before him. A she wolf by her scent made Crowe's darker side stir, after all frost was supposed to be his target in the spring but she was gone now.

She watched with amusement, not taking offense at his words then again she rarely did, her sunshine coloured eyes read the look in his eyes and the way he held himself. He was holding back, she could read the insanity that longed to burst forward and the conscious side that was holding it back not wanting to slip into the mists of the realm that she was so familiar with. She moved around, inspecting the mess that had been made, feeling the insane mask slip on she welcomed it. Her face twisted into one of cruelness “pathetically made art” she said her voice becoming higher, whoever had done it had done it out of rage which made her laugh. You could not create good art whilst mad, you had to remain calm and see what to do without rage obscuring ones vision.

She lowered her head and sniffed memorizing the scent of the mystery wolf before her head lifted and she stood there, the dull ache of the old chain scar around her neck had faded away as the mask had gripped her tighter. The fur along her spine rose slightly and a short jagged laugh left her, her jaws cut it short and she couldn’t help but grin. She hadn’t worn this mask in a while and was swept away at how good it felt, another laugh left her this one more bubbly and exhilarated. Her tail slowly lifted until it was straight out behind her, her head lowered somewhat and her ears perked forward she looked and sounded like a chaotic twisted piece of nature.

Crowe watched as the she wolf slipped on her own mask of insanity it felt so much like looking at himself mere months ago that he felt the corners of his mouth turn up. But still he fought even as her words came nudged him further towards the edge... he could feel it. It was a black tide sucking him down, and Crowe was fighting so hard but oh how he was losing, she was tempting him to take this opportunity, his yellow eye began to flash as the black torrent of insanity tugged at his mind threatening to pull it under forever, his thirst had to be sated and so, there, his eyes began to light brighter than ever and his toothy grin made of pure insanity appeared upon his muzzle.

His voice turned high and brittle, chilling and menacing, "Why my dear, anger is in fact the instrument of this particular masterpiece! For one can clearly show their feelings for their prey! Such a wonderful sight all this blood, and the skull is gone! What do you suppose it had done to deserve such a delightfully gruesome fate?" Crowe was playing blind just letting the river of insanity he felt wash him down into the hole, he had begun to stalk around the animal sniffing and tugging at the organs spilling from it's neck and wondering if he could get them all out through there. Still in the back of his mind he saw Mercy and a single tear fell unnoticed down his cheek as he played with the dead animal.

With enjoyment in her gaze she watched as he gave up fighting the Insanity that lounged within, his words that left his jaws made her snicker “oh do not fool yourself, fury can only get so far in the way of art, whilst true insanity creates the finest art of them all” she was reminded of the time that she had slaughtered another wolf and with that wolfs blood decorated the trees with brilliant swirls of blood. Her body shivered at the memory before she moved up to inspect the elk properly, the insane mask firmly inplace whilst inside she watched him impassively. He was just like every other insane wolf, how quaint and well boring, yet another who thought rage was the finest emotion, these wolves were really all the same and it was slightly disappointing for the otter woman.

Outwardly she gave no notion of her complete uncaring and slight scorn for him, the mask excellently in place as she edged around and with a flick of her tail began scraping her paws down the flesh on the legs of the dead creature. Her intent for now was unclear, although her ‘insane’ gaze was strangely focused, slowly the flesh began to move from the bone. She smirked slightly before she stood on the bone pressing all of her weight down she was rewarded with a sickening snap of the bone as it crunched jaggedly in two. Perfect, she began working to free the bone of its protective area of muscle and skin, bones were so perfect, they could tell the story of their last owner and she loved rereading the stories time and time again.

Crowe took offense to her, words, she would assume him so simple as to think anger and rage were all that could work. "I think you misunderstand, THIS masterpiece is a work of anger, and it was a masterpiece, unless YOU can find it's skull?" Still he began to measure everything, his proximity to her, to the elk, the precise place the bone snapped in the elk's leg. He listened as he he was almost chastised by her. There it was, disapproval in her voice, that was what Crowe wanted. It was perfect as long as no one saw he could indulge, be filthy and horrible. It was not so much the insanity that was causing pain anymore. Crowe thought of Mercy the whole time.

But with luck, the pup would never know that it's mentor was unhealthily unstable, in what felt like a never ending fight for his own soul.... it was agonizing. Yet it built the fiery pain his insanity fed on, he wasn't good enough and he knew it. So after turning his head this way and that as if searching he locked a yellow stare on the she wolf before him. Now was the time to show his new found skill. He exhaled, and silenced the voices. "Of course insanity is the worst kind of miscalculated havoc there is. Isn't it? To make something count, to MEAN it you must be cold.... calculating, prepared. Sane with a thirst for discord. Something most wolves have not the capacity for."

(This post was last modified: Nov 12, 2013, 11:55 PM by Datura.)

She arched an eyebrow looking slightly amused before she slipped on a completely different mask transitioning from insane to one who was calm and sure of herself. She flicked her tail and said “it is merely a matter of perspective, from the insane point of view it is a failed masterpiece but from that of rage it is perfect perhaps a bit of revenge in there as well” she bared her teeth in a slight grin “you are cute” she told him before she turned and moved off well that had gotten boring fast. She had expected the great brute to entertain her better but all he had ended up doing was trying to out wit her, she sighed yellow eyes amused. Oh they were cute petty little things, the moon cut through the thick fog illuminating the head of the animal, she paused inspecting it before she chuckled darkly. Oh a movement of revenge this was, as well as a warning whoever had done this was trying to warn someone that they were hunting them. She lifted a paw and lightly tapped the skull with it, hollow it was missing the brain and the skull was white whoever had done this had taken special care to turn it from a head into a skull. She sniffed it and smirked, cheater they had placed it in fast running water.

Crowe gave a crooked smile and watched the she wolf begin to stalk away, only to stop and nudge the skull of the elk. Running water masked it's scent, thereby hiding, ingenious, truly, Crowe stored the information away in his mind for deterring trespassers from their borders. But that was for another time and place. Now he had a ringer for the female. A thought she would have to question. "But perspective varies individually. Whereas you may see it as a sloppy angry mess, I may take note of the severing of the jugular, smooth, precise. Likely the thing was dead before it was maimed. So it may seem as though it is masterpiece to me and bloody mess to you. But I am not angry nor violent right now so how can that be?."

It was a taunting question, Crowe was trying to reel her back in. Almost attempting to insult her intelligence, he had to feel the rush of blood through his veins. The heat it would bring to his nerves. The feel of insane thoughts coursing through his mind. Crowe was falling away onto insanity, all the while remembering what he would be giving up if he couldn't undo it later. Mercy, his friend, the little scrap that thought him so great and powerful. It was a pity that everything the pup thought was a lie, Crowe was not powerful nor great, in fact he was the lowest. Right now, he definitely felt like it. But in the same moment a spark lit deep inside, one that whispered into the madman's brain. Fight.