Poison Path Is this where I can buy a bride?

http://i.imgur.com/MGPGh.jpg) top center no-repeat #120a31; ">

Skittles found himself in his ten foot by ten foot marked area by the creek that he'd claimed as "his". Little prey wandered in and out of the invisible square, but when it did, it seemed to weigh less than a pound on average. Unless he shrunk his mass to one tenth his size and grew a liking to bugs, he could not possibly hope to survive solely on such a small "territory", if it could even be called that. When the sun faded and the last of the gold ribbons left the sky and the crimson had drained out of the clouds, the world became monotoned. In the silence, the moon arose and with it, a chorus of stars, the tiniest of lights, a decorative robe for the lunar being. For a little while, he slept. But for the most part, he found himself tired and weary. He felt so hungry that he could hardly think straight, his bones so heavy that he felt they must have belonged to someone else. In the depths of the night, he slipped between dozing and thinking, mulling and dozing. Who was he, what was he doing here, what was his purpose? The angst of past and present meshed together with the painful reality of his future. He was surely going to die soon, and he had found no suitable partner to share the remains of his loner life. No one would miss him because no one really knew he existed, nor could they care. As the night slipped into the morning gray, his priorities at last became clear. He was more lonely than he was hungry. And his will to live felt like it was slipping away. What happened to just being happy beside it all? What happened to not caring what the world thought? The truth was that the world and the societies within couldn't and wouldn't accept him just as he was. He had to become someone else. Changing his entire self to become a vague notion of correct, acceptable, and good, was hardly appealing. He decided instead that he'd become two, and that should be enough. No longer Skittles but Skittles and Wife. Then, then he could be accepted by the world. Right... ? He hoped so. His options were diminishing at the same pace as he was. Grabbing some grass as he headed out, he found himself looking for borders, any borders, and when he found them, he sat down outside of them, lifted his head, and let loose a song for company. As much as his head felt foggy with hunger and groggy from waking up, his voice was serious. "Is this where I can buy a bride?"

<blockquote>OOC: The border would have been just in Lost Lake, by posting in Poison Path, you are <i>in</i> territory. Don't worry about it! There is no angry mob about to chase Skittles. I wouldn’t have responded to this thread with that intention, especially without knowing if you wanted Skittles to try and earn a rank within the pack. I know it was a mistake, but I was hoping that I could make it a good thread to post in for both characters. Because it is in territory, more PP wolves could show up. Depending on the character, the situation may want to be handled differently. Treena will defend Skittles. </blockquote>

This territory was a puzzle, one so secret even the timber girl had difficulty finding the entrance at times. She had been sleeping, a nap to restore energy, in the path of nightshade. It made her comfortable, knowing that’d she’d been the first to endure a predator on their way to her home. Whether that creature was a bear, or a lone wolf, Treena was determined to serve as a protector for her family. She would not be too open to play with the pups. She would not squirm on the floor for their enjoyment, nor would she let them bite dents in her tail. She would guard them from here, a much better sign of affection, until they were old enough. She knew little of Chantille, but enough to hope the girl was good with children. Of course she had no idea of the pups' personalities, had she’d known, she’d hope even more Chantille was good with children. Figuring Belladonna had inherited her mother’s hippy love of the earth and skill with healing, Treena would be no use as her teacher. Maybe, if she had the patience, she’d take it upon herself to help Datura on his way of becoming king. Both would share their aggressive personalities, which could either make a bond, or break one. At this age though, Treena wouldn’t even dare approach them. Not until their fangs were sharp, and their instincts were strong, would she teach precious Belladonna and Datura the ways of a true dominant wolf. She would not participate in any of their play, and if she was asked, she’d have to babysit, but she’d sit as close to Lost Lake as possible and ignore the milk-sucking toddlers until they could join her on border patrols.

The thought of two clumsy children, overbearing and headstrong, putting up a fight on the journey around the mountains was repulsive. They would either listen, or end up in Lost Lake. They would either help, or endure her fangs. She would push them in their path and teach them the life-style of a rank, so that when their muscles were large, and their eyes keen, they could rise over the unfortunate souls below them. The world spun around her, dancing for her enjoyment. She had done this often, just relaxed and let her surroundings take charge.

No wolf could stumble upon Lost Lake knowingly, and the chances of them passing the border and stumbling upon the pack-site? Nearly impossible. Yet, that day was already taking a turn. Her thoughts had returned from the kids, back to Rhysis and Naira. Where she had once felt empty, she now felt anger. The pair had taken one child, and left. Was this child the strongest? Had Poison Path become the new Swift River, a victim of their disloyal streak? While booming in the aggression which came with such thoughts, the female’s ginger ears perked, head resting on her paws, eyes suddenly narrowed in concentration. A scent invaded the air, one that sent her on all fours and bristling.

An intruder had approached the path.

She would not send the alarm call and howl. If Athena and Kegan were in the den with the pups, they needed to stay there and be protection. She would make the decision when her eyes fell upon the creature if they were a threat or not, and if she needed the help of others to chase it out. Of course, poor Skittles was no threat. He thought he was at the border, while he was not. Whether he had just misplaced his footing, got confused or curious, and entered the path was unknown to Treena, but he had somehow overstepped the border. It was early, the female hadn’t scent marked the borders. Maybe the rain had washed it away, dulled the scent before anyone had a chance to replace it. Then, this spot would seem very much so the border.

It was a simple mistake, good intentions and bad luck. She merely smelt lone wolf in a place she should not. She searched the stench for Swift River, but found no trace. Still, her fur bristled and her legs bunched as she took flight. She was preparing herself for a Marsh-lookalike, a large man, with scars marking every inch of his fur, with long sharp claws and empty grey eyes, grinning morbidly. She ignored the thought of death. She would warn the others before dying, if this second was now her time. What a waste it would be, to die days late of seeing the newborn children, or before having the chance to challenge Chantille for a higher rank, but she would do it.

If that second truly was her time, she would die protecting her pack.

It would be a noble way to leave the world, her body so full of life and emotion now cursed to lay empty on the ground. Ash would never see her eyes light up lovingly, feel the warmth of her fur against his, a heartbeat beating at his side. Athena would no longer have the guardian in training. She would never watch such a graceful member of her pack climb the heights of the mountain and smile. Ava would have lost one more person, along with the sadness of losing Rhysis and Naira. Maybe she’d howl at the moon again, crying out for someone to join her, but now it would not be Treena who appeared. Tlarx would no longer have to hear the sing-song voice mocking his name, the girl so cheerful calling him Salamander Man once more. Kegan and Chantille would have little loss, a fellow pack-mate died, but that was all. She would be missed. Each step she accepted the thought more and more, being driven by instinct and loyalty.

She heard the man before she saw him, asking his question of insanity. It was the first hint the brute was not healthy, sickly, not to be blamed for this situation. Still, she moved forward until his figure was obvious. He seemed dead. A dead man did not speak though, and did not stand. He was very much alive. It was her lawful good personality that overpowered her anger, her body falling limp and weak. Had he been sane, he would have endured her wrath. He would have been chased deep in the woods, warned to never return to the mountains. This man was no risk. She had seen a lone wolf be injured before, Finn. This man was far past injured. He was walking skin and bones. She had no reason to protect her pack from skin and bones, chase out skin and bones, or kill skin and bones. Her gorgeous face lost all emotion, tail still high and dominant, but eyes losing the threat they once held. <b>“You aren’t at the border.”</b>

She could barely speak, but when she did, she spoke dangerously. She did show her fangs, her claws and the muscles beneath her shining fur. If there was any chance the male was capable of attacking, she hoped she’d scare him from it. It was an act, and one she couldn’t keep up very long. As soon as the words left her loose jaw, the woman was stepping forward slowly and offering her body as a support. It wasn’t wolf-like. A wolf did not feel sympathy, did not share emotions with another. Yet, she felt no danger. She was faster than him, stronger than him, healthier than him. He was dead. She was alive. <b>“Do not be afraid. There is nothing to fear. I will not hurt you.”</b> Her throat was exposed, not in stupidity, or submission. She was trying to get trust from him, making herself as vulnerable as he. <b>“You are safe now, with me.”</b>

(I was going to suggest simply editing the location of your post to Lost Lake, but Minou got here first. More fun though x3)
<blockquote>
The morning was clear, and yet still somehow unpleasant. The sun had risen beyond some clouds and cast the entire sky a pale, grey. It was not dark, but it was not beautiful either. Ava had to fend off the feeling of dreariness as she took her lap around the borders. Secretly, as she trailed among their marked path and reinforcing areas where the scents were weaker, the black-coated female hoped she might come across the scent of their former leaders. Even if they did not come back for <i>them</i> exactly, she wished she could see the two wolves just once again - for an explanation. Yet she never would know why, because their scents would not grace the borders ever again. Even now the original wolves' markings were fading, and fading fast. Ava's and Athena's were the most resilient; and sometimes she wondered if they would always be there. But it was disheartening to think of such a future; to think of ever leaving the beloved mountain, so Ava cast the thoughts aside and took the path back home. There were no wolves hanging around the border; not today. Her dark paws drew her closer and closer to the path of nightsade while she pondered how else to fill her time. Perhaps she would pay a visit to the children; they were so very precious despite the painful reminder they served. Or perhaps she would give Sticky another look, the third wolf she'd been left to take care of.

Or perhaps she would take out an ass-whooping on the wolf whose foreign scent had <i>touched their secretive path</i>.

Fury at once bounded through her soul as a snarl ripped from her jaws and she leapt into action. Her black limbs ate the earth beneath her as she dodged through the purple-lined trail. As she neared she could smell her packmate, and hear her words: <i>You are safe here.</i> The very thoughtlessness nearly drove her jaws to part, daring to sink into some flesh and wrench from within her the violent ferocity. It took significant strength to stop herself from crashing into the scene that she came upon, though she did manage, amber eyes burning with anger though she kept her jaws closed. Before the sand-colored loner stood Treena. Despite her dominant position she held little protection in her gaze.

She shot her glare toward the mottled female, who dared to lust for the position of Guardian. The pack she served was of the utmost importance, not her own trivial desires. Ava calmed her rage to remember that the female was <i>good</i> for the pack... this would just have to be her lesson to learn. "<b>No lone wolf will call themselves safe when overstepping borders, especially in such a volatile time, and <i>especially</i> not from one of our own,</b>" Ava scolded. Her tone was soft; all pack wolves had to appear united at the front of their border. To do otherwise showed weakness. But the secondmost dominant female would not allow her to get away with some wrong idea.

With a snort, the black-coated female stalked around the intruder and came to stand before her pack-mate, now showing her fierce stare to the one who'd managed to come into the nightshade. The wolf was so very skinny - he had to have been a loner for far too long. And Treena had clearly seen him as no such threat. But he did not belong here. Her tail rose, chest rising as well as her chin. Ava refrained from baring her teeth, but her voice would boom, "<b>Out. On unclaimed lands.</b>"

They were not suggestions; her tone rang with <i>demand</i>. Not while they were in state of disarray. Not with the changing leaders. Not with abandonned children; literally and metaphorically. Not today would Ava be so lenient, so kind as she usually was. Back when she'd been just a subordinate, perhaps it would not have been her place to have so much authority. But she'd moved up in their world, and now it <i>was</i> her command. No wolf, no matter how harmless, without the mark of Poison Path would dare come on their land. And should he comply, and remove himself from the nightshade and return to the Lost Lake, Ava would have no problem hearing him. Her stare made it clear; this was his warning. Obey and <i>then</i> there'd be nothing more to fear. But if not...

Adrenaline still rushed through her veins, her blood hot and red as she did her best to remain patient. This was her home; this was her life. Ava would not allow its protection to be taken <i>lightly</i>. And as much as she itched to leap forward and release a little pent-up frustration, it would be fruitless to do so here. The man before them was weak, and sickly... if only he were weak and sickly off their grounds, she would have less need for cruelty.</blockquote>

(This post was last modified: Jun 18, 2012, 09:26 PM by Ava.)

art - threads

http://i.imgur.com/MGPGh.jpg) top center no-repeat #120a31; ">

Skittles thought nothing of the approaching wolf except that in all liklihood, it was from the pack whose borders he had surely stopped behind. Fear gripped his face, his eyebrows a mottled portrait of mortified. An image, a memory, floated to the surface, the time when he'd encountered a tribe of wolves who ate other wolves, especially outsiders, as food. He'd had a close brush with death, the past slime of their teeth suddenly making his fur feel uncomfortable. His skin jumped and his nerves were a fiery sea of angst to move quickly away. This healthy wolf was going to eat him. He knew it. His mouth began to move, as if stammering for words, but no sounds came out. When soothing words were spoken, his fears began to quell enough to grant him the courage to speak. "I ... I ... I spent hours scenting for the border... I .. I ...", his embarrassment was evident on his cheeks, his frustration looming. He couldn't understand why he had taken so long and come up with an incorrect answer. He took a breath and summoned the courage he had mustered over his entire existence for this encounter. "I want to buy a wife. I don't have any money. I don't even know what currency you use. But I'll pay a high price. I'll train the children to be warriors and give them to you as payment. Or I'll hunt every day and fill up ...", his words died as he caught sight of another female wolf. It seemed that there were many females here. "Oh, she's pretty.", his face lit up in a smile as he examined the new woman, whom had surely been summoned by the first, thinking that surely the second would be the one he was purchasing, the first the dealer. His ears slowly folded backwards in anxiety as he noted the tail positions, the second female more rigid, a higher tail indicating a higher position. Perhaps the first was to be his prize, and the second the dealer? He was silent, but his body language began to whisper, say, yell, and scream in fear as he scrunched his body, trying to make himself smaller and smaller at the harsh, unpleasant words. He knew an order when he heard one, and all of his fears returned. They were going to eat him. Not only that, but they were going to have him run, chase him down, and eat him alive. He whirled around as fast as he could, nearly knocking himself off balance. His feet were gathered beneath him as he sprinted off, begging his legs for as much speed as they could give them. Behind him, he felt that surely monsters padded about impatiently, whispering cruel jokes about him. Surely they were counting down his handicap, giving him mere dollars to play on their monopoly board where they already owned hotels for every property - including chance, go, utilities, railroads, and jail. He didn't see the large rock. A second later found him sprawled out on his belly. <b style="font-size:16pt;">"OH GODS DON'T EAT ME!", he screamed at the top of his lungs. He tried to gather himself up but found himself back on the ground just as quickly. He knew they were at his back legs, and that the pain shooting from his two back paws were surely them gnawing off his paw pads, pulling the hairs from his ankles, torturing him ... He began to scream at the top of his lungs. <b style="font-size:16pt;">"AAAGH! AAaaaah! AAAAAaaAAAh!, his voice sent the birds in the area flying off with the noise. He began to try desperately to get up. He fell. Tried again. Fell. Tried again. Bumped his nose on the way down. His skin crawled as his mind, gripped in fear, continued to conjure up the hallucination. The wolves were surely pulling at his back paws now, pulling his joints apart as one might break open a chicken wing to reach the tender meat between the bones. He felt as if his ankles were being sawed off, stung by hundreds of entire nests of ants, and dragged into the depths of hell, layer by layer. He began to scream again, but this time his voice too hoarse to reach the volume he had before, and between his cries, his mouth choked with sobs. "Don't eat me...", he whispered aloud, voice muddled with tears. He placed his right front foot beneath him. "Don't eat me...", he put his weight on his right front foot. "Don't eat me...", he put his left front foot beneath him. "Don't eat me...", he put his weight on that one, but he felt no inclination that he was going to topple over. He tried to gather his right back leg, but he couldn't feel it, and even trying produced so much pain that he gave a cry aloud. After he was done sniffling, he tried to gather his left back leg with the same result. Not realizing that he could probably still crawl, he buried his face and began to sob. What had he ever done to deserve this? He was a good wolf, he always had been. He'd never eaten another wolf, never broke another wolf's heart, never gotten into a fight, or told a lie. He was a good wolf. And he was now in living hell. With his wits scattered about and his imagination gripped with fear, he felt helpless.

He hallucinates at the end, I think Ava and Treena are just standing where they were.

As soon as Ava appeared, Treena backed off. She didn’t crawl on the ground and show her chest and stomach, or lick the female’s throat, instead her tail lowered, as did her head and eyes respectfully. She did feel guilty, but not wrong-doing or shameful in anyway. She hadn’t shown weakness, she had shown trust. If the male had been real mental, to a stage of aggression, who knows how violent he would have become from such dominance. Hell, she remembered how she reacted at the borders before. If the situation got tense, she snapped. She wouldn’t die from his assaults, but any amount of scars could lead to infection, slow and painful death. It wasn’t her being soft or betraying her pack. There was no way the man would pass her deeper into territory, or bare his fangs at her. It was her own intelligence which told her to embrace the man, trying to form some sign of humanity before forcing him out. It was so easily avoided by approaching cautiously, then explaining the situation and ushering him back to Lost Lake.

Then, if Mr. Nice Guy didn’t work, she’d resort to physical intimidation. Only at the border would she do such a risky move to someone so delirious. As much as the female wanted him off territory, and wanted him to understand Poison Path was strong and strict, she doubted he’d understand. Being nice was a tactic she had never used before, but no one she had met was this different. That became more obvious when he spoke to her, voice soft and even, but still on the edge between insanity and sanity. You don’t call a crazy person crazy, nor did you scare someone already so fearful. It was like threatening a paranoid man with a gun, it would do no good on your end. You’d only drive him further off the cliff. The best thing to do get him off territory as fast as you could. Instinct told Treena demanding would get nowhere. She had to speak softly, slowly, calmly and keep him relaxed. His punishment would come once he touched Lost Lake.

She hadn’t even gotten a proper reaction before the black wolf had appeared, ordering the man out, showing her dominance and strength. A frown grew on the timber wolf’s mouth, unaware of how things would now play out. The male was obviously unstable, but she was not afraid of him. Like a child, she felt he needed comfort before orders, just to get the best outcome. She didn’t want to be labeled as weak, especially from Ava. Had the woman been a couple minutes late, things wouldn’t have been so bad. Yet, the excuses meant nothing as she glimpsed upwards to see if she was forgiven. A couple seconds passed before she dared raise her head even an inch, to see he was now flaunting around like a fish out of water, his screams hurting her ears and confusing cries upsetting the birds around. This had been exactly what she had been trying to avoid. It was too late now to explain herself to Ava, warn the female. There was no calming him past this point. Instead she let out an exhale and changed her posture, not unhappy as much as she was tired. She didn’t sulk, or tell Ava to deal with it herself. There was no need to be passive aggressive, though it did sound tempting. It was her job as Guardian in training to show she could handle situations like these. It just would’ve been a hell of a lot easier to rewind and start from the beginning again, prepared for Ava this time. Ears flat on her head, eyes narrowed, she didn’t even glimpse at the wolf from the corner.

All her hard work down the drain with each hallucination he received. Stepping forward, head still low, not in frustration more than submission, she let out a loud echoing bark. She didn’t care if it would scare him even more, the man couldn’t move, maybe it’d make the situation more obvious. How he reacted to dominance. She was already pissed, having to go through this. It was clear in the way she moved, as if she had given up the thought of taking the easy way out as soon as Ava had appeared. Now she took a seat beside his withering body, like he was fighting off invisible predators. How nice. Pursing her lips, she watched him scream out and wiggle, entire body trembling. As much as it was tempting, she didn’t dare glimpse up to Ava in mockery. <i>Look where that got us.</i> Instead she ever so gently placed her tail on one of his back-legs, trying to awake him from this alternate reality. <b>“You need to calm down.”</b>

(This post was last modified: Jun 22, 2012, 01:33 AM by Treena.)

( Skittles is so entertaining xD Excuse this post, it's... yeah. )
<blockquote>Flattery was bestowed about her physique and disdain and irritation wished upon her by Ava's arrival were both equally unnoticed as she stood straight-legged before their <i>visitor</i>. The expression she wore was severe like the beating of her heart pumping adrenaline through her veins. There was heat beneath her fur, but she could not fathom the cause. Fury? Worry? Fear and anguish? Anything could've sufficed for the answer. She was far less worried about her feelings than she was about the intruder, whose anxiety appeared to have blossomed from the watering of her cruel words. The wolf's posture began to cripple, moving further and further inward on himself while his tail and ears attached like magnets on metal skin. But still she narrowed her golden gaze. Ava wasn't interested in seeing his submission, it was his immediate removal that she had come to gain. Just when she thought he was going to stay there until nightfall, quivering in his wavery stance, the wolf whirled around and tore away from the Poisoned welcome committe, howling a strange plea: <i>OH GODS don't eat me!</i>

The snooty expression Ava had been wearing morphed into immediate alarm, eyes growing wide while a rush of cold fright washed over her skin. The reaction was momentary; a well-worn mask of stoicism replaced it quickly, yet her heart had leapt out of her chest already. A low growl began in her throat while she circled off to the side and loped after his retreat. She couldn't stop her fur from bristling; yet another pale-colored <i>psychopath</i>. Like Tisa hadn't fucking been enough. Her amber eyes grew cold, for no trust resounded within her heart. Tisa had acted playful, sweet, as though she wanted a companion. And then her gentle posture turned into vicious words, mocking words. The sensation of the female's brittle grey fur pressed against her side and the coo of her raspy voice suddenly appeared, burning in her ears. <i>Poor girly, poor girly. Nobody gives a shit.</i>

Her blood was boiling, the temperature rising with every step she took. In her jaws she felt the flesh of another, tasted the wolf's blood, hot anger scorching her throat and she was unable to swallow it.

Then she watched him run head-first into a rock lining the very entrance to the path of nightshade. The resounding noise of skull against stone was enough to drain the bloodlust from her violent gaze, prompting Ava to stop following and freeze almost nervously a good distance away. The limbs of the strange wolf began a wild dance, flailing to and fro as he attempted to right himself, over and over again, all the while crying to not be made the subject of someone's lunch. Her chin lifted, nose wrinkling in disgust. Where in the world had he gotten the idea that she was some cannibal? The scars on her paw began to burn, the crawling under her skin a reminder that the sick of mind were dangerous. Even if they had just run head-first into a rock and were rolling around screaming their head off. Treena's mottled pelt took her attention off the yellowed wolf as she moved past Ava, taking a seat beside the twitching male and reassuring him. The act alone was enough to ignite the fire. "<b>You need to get off our land,</b>" she growled in response to Treena's gentle coo.

She would learn. Someday she'd learn. Ava had. Wasn't that the phrase, once bitten, twice shy? More like once bitten, twice as untrusting and angry and fearful. The combination of emotions was Ava's own brand of neuroticism, but luckily she hid it well enough to avoid the label of mental sickness. Yet the anger was the strongest of the mess of feelings, and it seeped into her eyes as she fell silent and stared at her pack-mate. Treena claimed to be the Poison Path badass, an excellent fighter, strong, and swift, and everything without fault. Beautiful and deadly. Wise and calm. Now she was playing the mother figure? <i>You don't get to be everything</i>. Her teeth remained bared, glinting and white and threatening though her stare had fallen to the scraped up ground nearby the interaction going on. Ava did not have a reason to be so upset with Treena, yet the hatred kept coming like the heart pumped blood, systematically, constantly, a static concentration of heat.

<i>Treena</i>. Did she want to be wonder-wolf? Fine. Let her prove herself. The Guardian, the Mother, the Stranger, the Beauty, the Enigma, the <i>Psychiatrist</i>. Better yet, the Bride. It would appear that the loose wolf had found what he was looking for, unbeknownst to it as Ava was. Still she refused to look back at the two wolves. It was better she wait and see what happened next. All she could pray for was that the male would come down from his hallucinatory state and buck on off of Poison Path territory. Perhaps like lightning struck and created fire he would become a <i>normal</i> wolf so quick. But Ava doubted it; he was <i>so sick</i>. Her patience was waning thin, and it had never been thick to begin with. There was only so much she could suppress the memories before she would be unable to sit quietly by.
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art - threads

Hope you guys don't mind me throwing Tlarx in! :)

He rested in the den with the pups- no, he was not the alpha...yet. He was determined to claim the title, though, and he knew that the other Poisoned wolves knew of his intentions. Laying his head around the two pups, he nuzzled them softly before rising up to his paws. He and Athena had dug out more space in the den to accommodate his massive size. He was still a bit cramped, though, but he did not mind. Slipping out from the warmth of the pup den, his ears perked forth as a scent caught his nostrils. The breeze brought him the scent of a loner...yet it seemed familiar. He had most certainly met whoever it was lurking around the territory before. With an annoyed grunt, Tlarx bounded forth, his large paws slapping upon cold stone as he did so. Ears remained strained as he listened for any noise that could give away the anonymous wolf's position. Within minutes, though, he had located the target. Two of the Poisoned women, Treena and Ava, stood near him. The wolf was pale in color, and seemed frightened. The females on the other hand...well, he could not tell. Treena seemed to be cool on the outside, but Ava was obviously ready to burst. Pursing his lips, Tlarx flicked his tail before striding down toward them. "What is going on here?" His low voice rumbled within his chest, booming aloud over the more elegant tones of the women. Brown eyes narrowed as he focused upon the strange wolf. Ah, he did now this creature! With an apathetic face, he spoke "Skittles. What are you doing within our pack territories? You do wish to keep your pelt, do you not?" The two wolves had successfully hunted a goose awhile back. He was protecting his pack mates now, so there was no time for friendly words to be exchanged. He stood like a statue now, muscles tense beneath his pelt. Why would a wolf come within a pack's territory? Was he looking to die? From his first encounter with the pale man, Tlarx knew right away that something wasn't all that right within his head. He was a kind wolf, otherwise.

http://i.imgur.com/MGPGh.jpg) top center no-repeat #120a31; ">

At a moment's notice, the nightmare only got worse, wolves crowding in on him. "You need to X.You need to Y.", he could hear the blood in their voices, the lust to eat his flesh and bones while his throat curdled out useless screams. He was certain they were going to eat him now, they were just upset because he hadn't run fast enough. His mind reeled at the thought and he tried to think up a plan but the overwhelming angst that surrounded him cut off the oxygen. He could hardly breathe, the air in his lungs felt like rage. And then a friend arrived - nicer, but still not helpful. He tried to answer. "I howled at the borders and waited... I howled and waited... the borders... I scented carefully... I spent an hour looking for the borders .. I was careful... but they tell me I am wrong and they are going to eat me alive... I don't want to die! . . . I can't move my back legs!", he cried to Tlarx, his voice a mixture of agony and panic. Carefully, Skittles tried to put pressure on his right back leg but the pain was excruxiating. He quickly tried the left to the same result. "It hurts!", he nearly howled in his affliction. He sunk to the ground in misery, his distress kicking in a survival mechanism: sleep. His eyes became heavy and for a moment, he nodded off, but a second later, his eyes batted open, startled, with the wolves still around him. Frightened, he began to paw at the dirt ahead of him and pull his body. The crawling motion sent him several inches ahead. Excited, he did another crawl, dragging his back body behind him. Three more inches. Another, another. Inch by inch, the fur and skin of his belly, back legs being dragged, and front forelimbs wore down, until it was blood that tainted his tracks, his skin worn down from the rough terrain and eventually decimated. Six feet later, Skittles found himself looking back, an unhealthy stream of red trickling down his slide marks. "Agh!", he cried, seeing his own mortality, the pain now weighing more heavy than ever. Blood was never Skittles' strong point, and thoroughly freaked out, hurting, mortified, and scared, his body took over from here : he blacked out. His body rolled onto its side as his muscles too fell asleep, the new crimson and old mud mingling into his pelt. (passed out )

He'll come to next post

The poor wolf seemed sick, but Treena had no patience left. Frustration had clung into her, and it refused to leave. It ran so deep that she became almost sculpted. Each expression became empty and tiresome. She was far past reacting. A wolf of little dominance, she had learned not to lash out. Those high above her would set her in her place. She had lashed out before, and it had nearly cost her a life worth living. Like a baby child throwing a tantrum in a room of older siblings, it didn’t matter how true her words were, or how much she asked, she had not shown herself worthy of a say. Her opinion meant just as much as a penny to a billionaire. She went from a well thought out plan, to anger, and now had no will-power left in the situation. The tension between all three wolves was clear, and the female knew she was walking on glass with Ava. That did bother her, but there was no determination left to set things right. The tension was unsettling, but tolerable. She would endure it long before admitting anything, as stubborn and childlike as it was. Obviously her words had been ignored. He would listen to Ava long before her order even kicked in.

The two Poison females had spoken in different tongues. While Treena had more attempted to hurry the returning-to-sanity stage, it had been Ava who held the authority and who would be listened to. The male wanted to get off lands instantly, which was instinct. Calming down was just a road-block. Who needed to be in the right mind to escape? A growl so badly wanted to escape her teeth, but both females wanted the same thing, both were thinking of pack safety before anything else. Though the timber girl was determined her plan would be successful, she did not have the records to be honoured a chance. Ava was a high ranked wolf, who could get the job done alone. Treena didn’t have to like it, but her disagreeing would do nothing. So, she watched and listened, obviously becoming passive aggressive despite her previous mindset. There was nothing she could do, so she’d do nothing at all, placing her head on her paws and watching Skittles blankly. <b>“We’re just going to end up killing him.”</b>

There was no way to win this. She didn’t want the loner to end up dead, she wanted him off territory. Though even her words were nearly emotionless, a pinch-full of anger had made way through, trying to make what was clear to her, clear to Ava. <b>“We’re torturing him to suicide.”</b> Her words were plural for a reason. She did not exclude herself from this partnership. It was as much her problem as it was Ava’s. It was at this moment Tlarx was in hearing range, the female’s voice picking up emotion which had been lacking prior. <b>“He hasn’t done anything purposely wrong.”</b>

A good bite was well deserved with her words. Though she was not threatening the black wolf’s dominance, she sure as hell wasn’t making things any easier. Yet, it was only minutes later before her ears twitched towards Tlarx’s approaching figure and her anger subsided once more. His question seemed rhetorical, so she didn’t bother responding. It was clear he recognised the mentally unstable loner as Skittles, which was reassuring and shocking. Tlarx wouldn’t possibly kill a wolf who had not meant for trouble, who did not cross the border purposely? The boy was as submissive as possible in his condition, barking orders only freaked him out more. He just needed to calm down. As if on cue, she felt the man twitching once more at her side, his words both frustrating and upsetting. Then he attempted to stand, failure the obvious result. Trying to keep him sane, the female kept her voice soothing. <b>“We aren’t going to eat you. You’re panicking. You hit your head extremely hard.”</b> <i>You need to get up</i>.

She wouldn’t order that from him right away, though it was implied with every motion she made. It was pointless. Half-way through she realized the man had passed out. Resting her head once more on her paws, her expression dropped and she waited for him to awake. Yet, when he did, there was little time for speaking. He was off and about, crawling slowly. She didn’t go after him. Instead she waited in his shadow until he passed out once more, lifting her head curiously a smile twisted ever so lightly at the corners of his mouth. <b>“That'll do it.”</b>

A bit of PP, Xe, if you'd like me to change it, please let me know!
Also, pretty sure I just effed up the posting order a wee bit (Treena>Ava>Tlarx?) Sorry about that :(.

Tlarx listened to Treena and felt his muscles begin to tense. Skittles had left a path of his own crimson blood on the rocks, and along with it chunks of his pale fur. The wolf had been good to him, so he would be good to him as well. The Golden Rule, yes? With a shake of his head, Tlarx leaped down toward the unmoving wolf. His massive paws slapped the cold stone as he shifted his weight, landing beside him. Jaws opened as he lowered his head and clamped his mouth upon the wolf's scruff. With a tugging action, Tlarx dragged him carefully toward the edge of the borders. He would pause here and there to catch his breath before continuing. Alas, at about ten feet, he released the wolf. Chocolate eyes were narrowed before he gazed back to the two women. "He was the same way when I met him before. Strange as hell. He's a burden and must leave at once."' Hasty eyes glared back at the still body, awaiting it to move once more. He seated himself beside Skittles, waiting for the man to speak again. He would politely ask the bizarre wolf to leave, and if he was to act up once more, there would be consequences. Of course he felt terrible for feeling that way, but it was for the safety of his family. Skittles was a...erm...friend, but he would do what was his duty.

(This post was last modified: Jun 30, 2012, 02:34 AM by Tlarx.)