New home

Thanatos wandered around his new home, hoping to run into some of his pack members and introduce himself. He hadn't seen anyone yet but he was sure he would see someone. He would more than likely meet a male though seeing as there were seven adult males in the pack. He was still getting used to being around males and hoped he could get close with at least one of them. He had heard stories that one of the wolves, Borden, was Jaysyek's old mate. Thanatos was confused as to why his leader would get rid of her mate and settle for someone younger and with no experience leading a pack. Thanatos was one of those wolves who believed a wolf had one mate their whole life and the only reason to get another mate is if the first passes away like his had. He wasn't gong to question his leader, he would respect Jaysyek's wishes. But if he was able to help Borden get back on Jaysyek's side he would do what he could.

As he thought about his pack and home he started thinking about Kama, his deceased mate. He missed her so much and wished she was there with him but it had been a year. It was time for him to move on. His mind drifted to Silver. She was a lovely wolf and Thanatos was close to being obsessed with those teal blue eyes of hers. She seemed at least somewhat interested in him. Maybe in time she would become his. Thanatos shook his head and continued walking. Time would tell what would happen in his life.

<blockquote><ul><span style='font-size:7pt;line-height:100%'>sorry about the wait, low muse and stuff. Shoooort. Uhm, this is going to be awkward since… does it take place <i>before</i> the meeting? So Kiche doesn’t know him?</li></ul></span>
With a frustrated huff, Kiche’s rump fell to the ground, the thump deadened by the pine-needle carpet. “<b>Fucking thorns.</b>” Lifting a large, dirty paw, the saint glared down at the culprit: a dark brown stub embedded in the soft, fleshy pad of his paw. Gingerly, he bent his head down and tried to extract it with his teeth to no avail. It was too difficult for him to balance his weight on one leg, lean forward, and attempt to get his teeth around one two-inch menace. Abruptly, he stumbled forward, and instinctually Kiche threw out his other leg in order to balance himself. A searing pain lanced his tender foot as the entirety of his weight fell on the injured. “<b>FUCK!</b>” Immediately he lifted withdrew his leg, tucking it up against tawny stomach. Cradling his injury, he jumped about on three legs, spewing curses with a vengeance, “<b>FUCK FUCK FUCK SHIT GOD FUCKING DAMNIT.</b>”

The temper tantrum ran its course as he stormed about the clearing on three legs, condemning all the world and all the burrs and thorns and prickers and sharp things. When he began to feel himself calming down, he angrily dropped to the ground, completely exasperated. Lying on the ground, he imagined, would make it easier for him to dig the thorn from his paw. But it was impossible to get an angle, and at last he gave up, swearing once more for good measure. Suddenly he felt himself longing to be home with his masters, who would have healed him in a heartbeat, crooning softly and stroking his fur as they did it. And they would have given him a treat afterwards, too.
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OOC: It's gonna be after the meeting. Thanatos is going to talk about some things that he wouldn't know if it was before. But they never really formally met, they just introduced themselves at the meeting. And sorry it's short. I'll be sure to write a longer one next post.

Thanatos heard the ongoing spew of curses and figured something was wrong with one of his pack mates. He ran in the direction the voice was coming from. Slowing down as the tawny male came into view. The he-wolf was clearly in pain, he held up his paw and limped around on three legs. Thanatos saw him lay down and walked forward slowly, not wanting to startle him and cause more pain.

<b>"It's Kiche right?</b> Thanatos looked down at the paw Kiche had been holding up while he was standing. There was a dark brown thorn stuck in his paw. It seemed Kiche was unable to pull it out himself. <b>"Would you like some help? I could get that out for you."</b> He laid down next to Kiche, awaiting an answer.

<blockquote><span style='font-size:7pt;line-height:100%'><ul>gunna apologize in advance for Kiche being a butt. Thorns make him grumpy :P</li></ul></span>
A voice shook him out of his bitter reverie. Vulnerable and suspicious, his head snapped up as if the sound had been a gun-shot rather than a voice. His muddy, ginger face, which would have looked much more handsome with a smile, wore a contorted snarl instead. alert, spitfire eyes darted about, locking on a scarred and sable wolf. The stranger’s face was marred and by a winding river of scar that traced all the way up his face and crossed through a cloudy, sightless eye. He was a fearsome sight, certainly he looked the part of a savage. The ears atop his red head swiveled backwards, unsure of how this beast knew his name. “<b>Yes,</b>” he replied warily, his eyes narrowing. “<b>Who the hell are you?</b>” It took him a moment to realize that he had seen this wolf at the meeting, though he remembered that he had not paid attention to a word that the black monster had said.

Kiche tensed distrustfully at the offer to help. His response was curt and callous, “<b>I’m fine.</b>” He wasn’t. Pain turned him sour, though, and he didn’t feel like being social. When the nameless Hollow wolf decided to pull up a patch of ground next to him, the red saint’s hackles began to rise. Part of him realized he was being unfairly prickly, but this part of him was drowned out by the other part of him that shouted that he was in pain, that he was vulnerable, that he didn’t know this monster, and that he wanted to be left alone. “<b>Who shoved a rainbow up your ass, anyway?</b>” Really, why <i>was</i> this wolf being so friendly. The stranger didn’t know him. He had no reason to be nice. Heathens were rarely nice to him, and the sudden “lend-a-hand” olive branch struck him as suspicious.
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Kiche didn't seem to be in a very good mood, more than likely caused from the thorn in his paw. <b>"I'm Thanatos. And I apologize for my appearance. I'm not as aggressive as my form shows."</b> Kiche said he was fine even though he clearly wasn't. Maybe he just didn't want help but maybe pain just made him pissy like it did with his brother. Thanatos made no movements when the red wolf's hackles rose. He knew Kiche wouldn't try to fight him with a thorn in his paw, and he had no intention of fighting today anyways.

Thanatos chuckled when Kiche asked who shoved a rainbow up his ass. <b>"Relax. I just wanted to meet my pack members since I'm new and I thought I'd help you out since you didn't seem to be able to get it. I'm not going to hurt you and I don't want a fight."</b> Regardless of what Kiche would say next, Thanatos moved forward towards the red male. He gripped onto the stub of the thorn and quickly pulled it out. It would more than likely hurt Kiche, but only for a moment and it would feel much better since the thorn was out. Thanatos licked Kiche's paw, cleaning it where the thorn was just extracted.

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<i>Thanatos</i>. The name sounded vaguely familiar, no doubt there was some part of his unconscious that had been listening at the meeting—if only partially. This <i>Thanatos</i> fellow seemed to be rather long winded, given to a lot of formalities and unnecessary speech. Quite frankly, Kiche found this irksome, though his face remained apathetic. He could apologize for whatever as much as he wanted, the ginger saint couldn't find it in himself to give a shit if he was "sorry" about what he looked like. While Kiche was personally prone to apologizing for anything and everything, he didn't apologize about stupid superficial details that he couldn't change. Sure, he couldn't change the past —which he apologized for quite often— but that was <i>different</i>. There was no penitence for an ugly mug. A disinterested shrug was the only response Kiche could manage. And as for not being as aggressive as he appeared, <i>Yeah fucking right.</i> Heathens did get their scars from rolling in daisies.

The way this savage laughed <i>really</i> pissed him off. It appeared everything about this chipper asshole rubbed him the wrong way. But in no way was Kiche prepared for the dark beast to suddenly <i>reach down</i> and <i>yank the fucking thorn out</i>. The uninvited, unwanted, unexpected invasion of his personal space caused him to leap back only a second to late, though he spat and snarled like a demon. His movement probably only hurt him more, but who was to say. Aghast and furious, Kiche could barely get the words out, "<b>Who the FUCK do you think you are?</b>" Immediately he fumbled backwards, wishing to put as much space between him and this insane do-gooder. "<b>I never asked for your help, dick.</b>"

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Thanatos sighed as Kiche jumped back and snarled at him. <b>"There is no need for that kind of language Kiche. I'm not looking for a fight. All I wanted to do was get to know my pack mates. I happened to hear you screaming in pain from the thorn and thought I'd help out as I got to know you but obviously it was a mistake."</b> Thanatos turned his back on Kiche and mumbled to himself. <b>"Great first male I meet and I try to be nice and he automatically hates my guts. This is going to be fun."</b>

Thanatos stopped for a moment before he disappeared into the trees. He turned his attention back to Kiche, no emotion showing in his face. <b>"There is no need to lash out at others who are only trying to help. No you never asked for my help but I was trying to reach out to you as I would have done to any of the other pack mates. If you need to get your anger out that bad you can take it out on me. I wouln't fight back."</b> He stood there, facing Kiche, waiting to see what he would say and do.

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His arrogant sighs really pissed him off too. It was if the sable heathen saw himself up on a pedestal, so <i>depressingly</i> lonely and amazing, and wasn't it just a <i>shame</i> it was that all the other heathens weren't stupid enough to let him invade their personal space after only having just met. Kiche did not trust these thinly veiled civilities —this was a monster. He might have slowly begun to believe in Aisling's "silver linings," but he was still cautious, far too skeptical. This new savage, while his manners were <i>pretty</i> and well formed, was like a slap in the face. He stood for every feigned nicety and assumed closeness every heathen had committed. He was strange, he was what Kiche had been looking for so long now... but Kiche was a broken man now, a confused man, and to find Thanatos now —when he was so crestfallen, beaten down, and at the end of his faith— was like being mocked. This was very clearly a very clever, very sadistic joke on the heathens' part. But Thanatos wouldn't have understood that. No one would understood that. Fuming, breathing hard, Kiche appeared to be just another pissed off soul having a bad day, not a doubting agnostic at the end of his tether who had reached his breaking point.

"<b>There was no need for you to just <i>assume</i> it was okay to invade my personal space. It's just as fucking <i>"inconsiderate</i>" as my "<i>kind of language</i>," you hypocritical prick.</b>" If monosyllabic, deadpan responses weren't getting his point across, perhaps it would be necessary for him to explicitly state his case. It left him out of breath, panting and vehement and frustrated. When it appeared that the dark asshole would walk away, Kiche allowed his walls down, expecting to be alone. However, it appeared that Thanatos was not done. It appeared he was due for another mouthful of stupid <i>reproach</i>.

The fact that Thanatos would offer himself as a punching bag raised a red flag in Kiche's mind. It was a clear indicator of a masochistic tendency that reflected an inner sickness, a love of the satanic. Although Kiche had perhaps done just that <i>many</i> times, he could not remember those moments, the details surrounding those fights. While he was not always a <i>good</i> Christian, he felt —no, he <i>knew</i>— that he was a far better Christian than these savages, and he couldn't remember being violent <i>on demand</i>. He certainly would never hurt someone because they had <i>asked</i> him to. That was bloody <i>mental</i>. "<b>You heathens are all so savage. You all think violence is the answer, well <i>fuck off</i>. I'm not going to cut you up so that you can get your sick little adrenaline rush.</b>"

Perhaps now was the time to take a vow of non-violence. Permanently.
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(This post was last modified: Mar 05, 2012, 09:34 PM by Kiche.)

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Thanatos nodded as Kiche lashed out again, calling him a hypocrite. <b>"You're right Kiche. I should have never invaded your space. I apologize for that."</b> It appeared the two would not be able to get along after all. Perhaps he should leave the red man and let him be. <b>"I'm not savage. And no I do not think violence is the answer, I would much rather talk it out than resort to that, but it didn't seem talking would help you. I apologize but it seemed at the moment that what you wanted was a fight. I'm not interested in fighting so you would have been free to use me as a punching bag. Do I <i>enjoy</i> it? Fuck no. I don't get an adrenaline rush like you say. I was simply willing to help you in any way you needed."</b>

Becoming furious, Thanatos began to let everything off his chest. <b>"I grew up in a pack that believed in nothing but violence. I hated every fucking minute of my life in that pack. When I finally spoke out against the leader, <i>my father</i>, he ordered me and my mate killed. That is where my scars came from, not the countless battles I had been in as you seem to think. I came here, hoping for a new start and this is how I'm treated by the first wolf I meet besides Jaysyek. All I was trying to do was help you. I didn't mean to invade your personal space. But there was no reason to react with so much anger as you did. It feels like I'm back with my fucking birth pack. And you call me the savage one. Take a look at yourself."</b> Having said all he needed to say, Thanatos sat down and took a few deep breaths to calm himself.

<blockquote><ul><span style='font-size:7pt;line-height:100%'>oh god, all this dialogue is going to drive me nuts. I suck at processing dialogue.
REEEELAPPPSE ~</li></ul></span>
A lot of it was just bullshit that came out of his mouth, and Kiche's flickering amber eyes stared back at the dark male with an unwavering callousness. The apology fell of deaf ears. If he was sorry, then he would <i>change</i>, then there would be no <i>next time</i>, and Kiche could rest in peace knowing he'd have his space to himself. Only Aisling had been allowed to touch him, but that had been without thinking. All other contact just made him sick, it made him feel disgusting and violated, like a sinner. While he knew it was probably wrong to think so, part of him imagined that he could contract a disease from touching a heathen. But perhaps contact <i>had</i> made him sick. Perhaps that was why he felt so <i>lost</i> lately, why he could not find it in him to pray or believe or feel good about himself. A suspicious feeling roiled in the depths of his churning, sickened stomach where an old, fettered demon began to thrash and break free.

When he came to, he realized he was suddenly being given an oral history of his bastards whole <i>life</i> — completely unwarranted. The arrogance of this black asshole was absolutely galling, absolutely fucking <i>astounding</i>. After all that had happened, where could he possibly get the idea that Kiche wanted to hear a stupid <i>sob story</i>. A flicker of disgust quickly flashed across Kiche's face before it returned to feigned stoicism. He could see why his father wanted him killed for speaking out —he was <i>annoying</i> when he spoke out. That Thanatos grew up in a pack full of violence did not surprise him. In fact, it reaffirmed the very belief that proliferated his bigotry. Clearly, Thanatos was just a sorry, stupid product of his environment. These little snippets curled the corner of Kiche's mouth in a cruel smirk, and he found himself mildly amused. "<b>My language is merely a symptom of my time here with the savages. It's a sad truth, but I've learned to live with it.</b>" As he continued, compose began to return to the red saint as he fell back into the old habits he had thought he had abandoned. It was like donning an old cloak, wearing the comfortable, familiar skin he had longed for unknowingly. "<b>But if you're looking for a new start, I suggest you do less talking and more thinking,</b>" he drawled in an icy cold tone.
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