Round Stone Crest A Sacrifice to the Gods

ooc: apologies for the wait!

Urien's horror was not about to be silenced, his panic that was spinning through him in ways that could not be denied. His ears were swinging on top of his head with a consideration of what horrors might have been following him. This was a situation he had never been in before, simply because his only experience with a larger group had been family. That had been so much different, much easier to know what risks were coming to pass. It was why there was a blunt stress in his eyes, something he could not forget for the world.

Ears flattened against his head though as the onslaught came upon him, unable to stop the frantic worry that was about to blow him up. As he found himself panicking, he found himself dancing backward away from the demon, uttering a strangled cry. As he slid out toward the she-wolf, he was confident that Raela would do something to keep him from dying. It was the only thought that kept him going, and his paws seemed to quake as he realized that this demon was beyond control.

Panting, he found himself looking hopelessly, his eyes dropping to the mice on the ground. I-I provide... I am alive... you... you might not be, The gasp seemed to be hounding him, struggling to make his lungs work. The reality was not a pretty one, and his eyes were almost rolling with the consequence. Spooked, he danced on his paws, waiting to bolt. I never harmed a soul, His voice snapped, irritated suddenly with the fact that he would be accused of harming children. What an absurd thought! Never, not once! The demons suck you dry, but I stand! He snarled, hopelessly, even though his tail was tucked.

Bigger the risk... thicker the reward, Urien's gold, a dragon's gold... he's valuable, he is! A useless, morose soul; condemned, blasphemy! But he walks and he breathes - not a suffocation, a drowning, an infection! He walks! And he is... a risk... but a useful, oblivious risk... Words seemed to come tumbling out of his mouth, strained in ways he could not fathom. He stared, from behind Raela, searching for all evidence of escape routes.

(This post was last modified: Aug 21, 2015, 04:45 PM by Urien.)

She was beginning to think this might have been a mistake. Gent's voice would have cut Urien off if he'd even tried to answer in that moment. The unease grew in her stomach at the dark king's words. It was getting out of hand quickly as he rambled on, and Raela couldn't help but feel that some of the words were meant for her as well. This behavior is not what she had been met with in the lowlands. If Urien had behaved in such a way she might have been more hesitant to offer him shelter with their pack. There was no denying the truth in Gent's words; this was a very poor showing. She hadn't seen these erratic tendencies before. It was actually a bit concerning to her too.  The smaller male writhed beneath Gent's cold words, growing ever more terrified. She felt awful for making the man so frightened, but Urien seemed unable to control himself. It didn't bode well for a prospective pack wolf to have such a demeanor. Her change in attitude was showing on her face. The woman had already flattened her ears and wove the tip of her tail between her hocks when the slew of irritated speech hit the air. There wasn't much that would convince Gent now. Urien crawled closer, still twisted with horror. Suddenly, the rogue was on his feet, practically shouting back to defend himself against the patriarch's accusations.  Her insides were churning. All she had wanted to do was help him. She knew he probably posed no real threat to them; but she was also beginning to see that perhaps he was not the best fit for this pack. As he pranced about nervously, she wanted again to explain that he wouldn't be hurt; but he wasn't likely to listen if he hadn't before. She stared at him with a lowered head as he pleaded with her leader. Oh god. She felt awful about all of this. The pack woman should have been gently telling him to leave; knowing full well what Gent had already decided, but she couldn't bring herself to. Some small part of her hoped Gent would reconsider, or at least that she wouldn't have to be the one to ask him to go.  Her honeyed eyes moved up Gent's form carefully, dropping back to the ground and trailing off toward Urien a moment later. There was nothing for her to say. She wasn't here to beg for his admittance; she had simply provided him a chance. If nothing else, she would be assured no harm came to the loner on his way out. That much, she could truly promise.  Image © Chris Smith Photography Manipulation © Jenandra

            

Gent was rapidly becoming consumed by disgust. He wanted this filth off his land, and fast, but his connection to Raela kept him glued to the same spot, begrudgingly lending patience he didn't own to the man before him. His composure was loosening, a scowl pulling at his lips as his head tucked, an unconscious movement that hinted toward the mindset he was beginning to gear into. As Urien retreated further away from him, a horrid lament seeping from his clenched throat, the grimace stretched into a silent snarl, giving a small glimpse of the king's clenched fangs.

As the man moved toward Raela, everything within him urged Gent to cut between them, to keep this diseased mind the hell away from his confidant. He showed constraint, but his desires were evident in the way his entire body seemed to be leaning forward, held back by invisible chains.

Urien spoke, but his words only further proved his madness, and his final chance was thus unwisely spent. Having had enough, Gent's only decision now was how to expel this parasite from his lands. He knew what Raela would want of him, and could acknowledge the possible consequences should he act as he wanted, but the potential costs of not pursuing what instinct commanded he do were too great. Thus, Urien's expulsion was executed upon the king's own aggressive quiddity.

Without any further warnings, the leviathan launched himself forward. A deep, snarling sound ripped through the air and his deadly jaws snapped repeatedly, causing a clacking racket that would instill terror in any sane beast. That was the problem, and while Urien had thus far done nothing more than shrivel in fear, his madness was unpredictable and the luminary was fully prepared for this pathetic soul's disposition to change into something far more threatening.

What he wanted, and what would be done should Urien flee rather than choose to face him head on, was to chase the man far from his borders and scare him so thoroughly that he would never dare to come back. He would not harm the pitiful creature, not unless he turned upon him first, but Urien could not know this and would hopefully think himself to have barely escaped with his life.

Bright side: He's forgetting about the mice! :P

Honesty wrung in the fact that Urien had never been introduced to pack laws and hierarchy of another family; not when he was more accustomed to everyone he knew being comforted in ignoring his sniveling behavior. It was truth that the wolf needed to bump himself up, but the coward was as the coward would be - and that washim looking like the world was going to take him by the throat and suffocate him.

They were going to kill him - something about when he looked to Gent's face, he could have sworn it. He should have stayed with @Kjors, he should have followed the wolf to the bitter end without stopping. He should have clung and begged, but now what did he have? Not much, with the exception of awareness of what the true Devil looked like. Somehow, he doubted that such would be admired as something to be generously granted on the air, but he would hold it.

Yes, they were going to slaughter him.

Although it was actually Urien who had stepped aside, driven by some kind of alert in the sub-part of his mind, well, he imagined it differently. Raela, fanes elongating and drool dripping down her face would grin - pleased that the game was coming to an end. Her tongue would roll out of her mouth, and wild eyes wild gesture behind her, hissing telepathically, Get him! Rip out his innards, feast on his soul my lord, yess!

Then Gent was moving, almost in slow motion as his face contorted - muzzle elongated like an anteater's nose; stretching out, outstretching jaws coming to suffocate him. To suck him whole, "OH GOD!" Urien's cry broke the air as he swung, throwing up dust as his tail tucked and the yipping screech bellowed out of him, hind end almost trying to run over his front end as he booted it.

They were going to rip him alive! They would come after him! Oh god, oh god! He was too young to be food!At least, in his wake, there was naught but silence.

OOC: Lemme know if PP should be changed! 

She could see it happening already. The morose woman watched as Gent seemed to fight back his every urge to full out maim this stranger she'd brought right to his door. No no no, she thought, looking desperately into his eyes. No, he could chase him, but there would be no blood. No. Still, his visible anger kept her posture low. How had this all gone so wrong? Why had Urien not realized what he was doing? There was nothing to be done now. Gent moved, and Urien was consumed whole by terror. Her instinct was to take a step back as the black man charged. Raela's brilliant yellow eyes flashed, trying to assure their owner that Gent would not hurt him.  She'd only a moment to worry before his clacking made it obvious that he wasn't about to tear flesh just yet. He was giving the man a chance, and Urien took it. With a cry that made her heart sink even further the agouti man was off; tearing through the woods with Gent on his heels. Her regret faded just for the moment, and she charged after them if only to ensure that Gent didn't loose his temper and maul the man. Oh, she was so sorry. She kept at a good enough distance to monitor the action as they rushed into the timbers, rejoining Gent's side only when he had seen fit to stop running. Her eyes trailed the rejected Crest recruit; feet moving forward cautiously as she readied herself for Gent's anger. He would no doubt be displeased with this.  “Gent I,” she began, still a bundle of submissive nerves from that display. “He didn't act like that when I met him. I don't know what that was,” she pleaded, genuinely at a loss for what to do now. She'd obviously failed again, and in another area. Truly useless. Image © Chris Smith Photography Manipulation © Jenandra

            

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Urien's reaction was exactly what the king most wanted. Belting out a cry of sheer terror, the smaller man nearly took himself out in his rush to escape. Unrelenting, Gent was right on his heels every step of the way, snapping at the thinly veiled bones of his hocks and assaulting the air between them a barrage of vicious, guttural snarls. It was quite some ways that they ran like this, until the scent markers of Round Stone Crest had long faded from their lungs and the king's chest burned with his fading stamina.

When he finally ceased his chase, pale eyes glaring after the miserable worm who continued to absquatulate, he was caught of guard by Raela's immediate presence. As his mind processed, however, swiftly catching up with each deep gulp of oxygen taken into his lungs, he was no longer surprised. Of course she wouldn't have stayed behind, not when a chance of this entire encounter ending physically still existed. It was over now, however. Unless Urien lacked the brain and contained the guts to come back, though for obvious reasons Gent doubted that possibility very much.

He turned then, set on returning to his domain, when Raela's apology hit his ears. His pale eyes watched her in silence for a moment. What she was telling him had been what he'd already assumed, for while she had defended the man through most of the interview, there had to have been substance for her hope of things turning around to cling to. Unfortunately, it had been ill spent, but he could not blame her for that. Not Raela.

Stepping toward her, Gent touched the tip of his muzzle to her crown.

"I trust you," was all he said, before turning round once more to journey back home.

Her eyes were trained on the exerted black beast as he panted, slowly taking in what she'd offered him. Raela was nervous; fearing retaliation from his icy gaze, but it remained even while she illustrated her incompetence. He changed course, moving for her but not in any sort of irritated or scolding manner. Golden eyes fluttered all over his large frame, wondering if his anger would arise suddenly with a fury, but it didn't. Even as the King stood before her there was only calm. Her ears, now forward to catch any new utterances fell back as his muzzle reached out; planting a soft, reassuring touch to her head. They remained there while his voice slithered out in the most beautiful string of syllables he could have offered in that anxious moment.  That was it? her mind reeled as he retreated from her. He had so simply forgiven her mistake; forgiven her for bringing that to his borders and wasting time. Still, after that screw-up he still trusted her. The woman's face showed something of shock as it trailed his movements. She felt no need to speak in his wake, opting instead to join him obediently. He always seemed to surprise the smaller, meeker woman. Her tail relaxed; freeing itself from her hocks as she moved to accompany him home. What had made her so worthy of this level of trust? Raela was beyond grateful, but she kept to her own thoughts as they passed back into the sacred safety of their borders. She would do well to be more scrupulous about just who she invited to their door next time, and thanks to Gent's confidence she would get that chance.  Image © Chris Smith Photography Manipulation © Jenandra