Sex: FemaleShe walked through the thick undergrowth of the wildwood; moss brushed against her gray pelt as she did so. Elegant limbs moved diligently as she sniffed at the air, moist black nose shimmering in the soft light that pierced through the green canopy. A slight breeze wove its way through the foliage, intertwining with her soft pelt. Smiling softly to herself, Mistfiur settled her blue-gray gaze upon a flat rock a few lengths before her. It was covered by moss, and by the looks of it, very soft moss. With a flick of her tail, the older came forward, willingly ready to lay upon the moss.She stepped gently upon the greenery, the soft feeling supporting the pads of her paws. With the smile slowly dissolving from her muzzle, she twirled in a circle before settling on a comfortable spot to lay. With liquid action, she lowered her lithe frame downward, snuggling into the moss. It reminded her of home, when she was young...when there was still a pack...
Clenching her teeth together, she closed her eyes hard, trying to shake the thoughts from her mind. She was getting closer to her brother, she just knew it. For now, though, it was time to relax. It seemed she traveled without pausing for a nice rest. Too busy...way too busy. Always moving; no time to stop. Finding her brother seemed like it was becoming more an obsession nowadays..
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He liked it here. He didn't know why. The terrain was comforting, the air familiar to him, despite the mess that was now he mind. He was a wolf that ran on instinct and nothing more; instinct told him that here, right here, was a good place to be. Had his mind been in tact, he would have known that the Wildwood was where he had lived, before he became a father and a King of the Poison Path wolves; but his mind was not in tact, in was shattered into little pieces, with little recollection of anything but who he was... and the black ghost that haunted him.
<i>We should be doing something. Let's find a squirrel to torture...</i> came the bored yet deep voice of the ghost at his side. Since he had lost his mind, his father had been following him around like a lost puppy. Goading him into things he would not normally consider, pulling him further and further into the dark side. He hadn't seen his father since he was exiled as a yearling from the back, for discovering his father had raped the omega to produce his heirs, rather then the rightful queen. That about summed the black wolf up; Rhysis was fucked from the beginning.
<i>Come on Son, let's go hurt something. I'm bored.</i> his father whined again, his voice a little distorted as he said something so out of character. That always happened. His father would never be bored or plead with his son, he would have beaten him into submission of bullied him until he got his way. So when the imaginary voice said something so unlike his true father, the voice would fade in and out. Rhysis must have known on some level it wasn't normal, but he was so lost that the voice was the only thing keeping him grounded... if you could call it that.
Sitting with his back to a mossy green rock, the gazed out at the trees before him. The Wildwood was greener than the last time he had been here, but he didn't remember that. Life buzzed around, which when he lived here during the past winter, there had been none. The wood had changed almost as much as the wolf who once lived here.
<b>"Will you shut up."</b> he snapped suddenly, as the scent of another wolf tickled his nose from upwind. Glancing behind him, he caught the tail of a wolf leaping onto the boulder that he sat the other side of. How dare this wolf intrude his quiet time! With a snarl, he turned and strode around to the other side of the boulder, his gaze boring into the female who lay so thoughtfully. He said nothing, just stood there with a look that could kill... Maybe it would, but not just yet.
<i>Ooh... now that would be better to torture than a squirrel, Son.</i> crooned his father who had followed him around the rock and stood aside him now, shorter but thicker then his own frame, but with a malice to rival Rhysis' own. </blockquote>
![[Image: winteriscoming-mg.png]](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ifHJ__apOCo/Up5ei9gNeJI/AAAAAAAAGXc/gKdeMqCFBWA/s368/winteriscoming-mg.png)
With that flashback gone, his amber eyes studied around, looking for the wolf that he kept smelling, it was really a true mystery. Then, suddenly Kamota leapt out into the area where Mistfiur was. "Hello, I am Kamota. Pleased to meet you." He said kindly.
![[Image: Kamota-sig01.png]](https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-wQOrPpysDjU/URw5zMFFDOI/AAAAAAAADWA/xozfInzWJO8/s0/Kamota-sig01.png)
-Like a phoenix, I rise from the ashes.-
~Anger is a short madness.
"Friend of yours?" She questioned Kamota lightly, shrugging her shoulders in a casual manner. After she had done so, the older woman stepped down from her comfortable stop. It seemed there would have to be another time for rest. Her light eyes found themselves back on Kamota. She stood silently now, muscles relaxed as she did so. Sleep was calling for her; her eyes were slightly drooping. Not wanting to appear rude, she forced herself to appear perked up. Raising her ears and swaying her tail lightly, she took on a more youthful approach. Ah, what was the sense in that?
The sun was preparing for its departure for the day, turning the sky brilliant hues of purple and pink. It was barely to be seen through the thick foliage though. The wildwood prevented its residents from enjoying the rise and set of the giant ball of fire. That was ok. Mistfiur had seen enough of such on her travels here.
Seriously. His head must have been in the clouds not to even noticed two wolves appear. His reflexes were getting slack and that didn't sit well with him. As the strangers converged upon a rock, he took a step backwards. One wolf alone would be fun to torment, especially an older girl like the one he had seen first, but with a younger wolf on the scene he couldn't take the risk of them ganging up together. With a snort, and a brief flash of his fangs, he regarded their conversation. Speaking about him as if he weren't even there. How rude. He hated wolves who had no manners.
He suppressed the growl that wanted to escape towards them both, to snap at the paws and tails that lay upon the rock before him, just to tear something off one of them, but he knew that was stupid. Even the ghost of his father was silent as it contemplated the situation. He wanted to hurt something... he needed to, keep his blood lust manageable.
Their introductions were... sappy. No one was that nice. Not really, it was all show. Rhysis had been the master of false faces once upon a time, but now he didn't have the time or patience to be Mr. Nice Guy, it had never gotten him anywhere either. Just hated by most of the wolves he met, his pack stripped from him... nah, better to live true to your nature, and the monster that had slept inside him for so long was awake and on the war path.
<b>"I'm Wolf. It's so lovely to meet you both on this delightful day. What brings you to such a beautiful area in these lands?"</b> he said, the sarcasm in each word dripped from his tongue like poison, he meant not a single word of it, of course, but he bet they were probably stupid to even realise it. Little did they know his name was not Wolf... but forgotten by the black wolf, he had had to make up a new one when he lost all recollection of his true name. Wolf... it was simple, did exactly what it said on the tin. He was sure he'd heard worse.
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He looked back to Mistfiur after a brief glance at the wolf. He looked at her, she seemed to be similar to his sister Namara in some ways. The fur, the eyes too. There was one difference, Namara was a stuck-up, bratty bitch. Mistfiur was not. It caused a flashback, his eyes zoned out for a bit. Sure, he was not loved as much and Namara or Tenzin, but his parents still loved him, the scent of two wolves up ahead. Both had no smell of pack on them yet. Just then, a flash of his past before his eyes. Kamota was born to a pair of Lone Wolves. Suspected to be the 'runt' of the litter compared to his massive siblings. He was looked down upon and shunned by his siblings and sometimes his father too. No matter what he did, it was never good enough.It infuriated him. When he was about a year old, ad his parents had finished teaching the survival basics, he left, ran away with not a simple good-bye. It was too painful for him to have to face them with a good-bye. Even being the runt, he loved his parents and siblings and they loved him back. He continued forward, finding a pack called Lemon Sears. Odd name he'd never encountered, he joined and learned the ways of the pack. One day, a brush fire killed the alphas and they're pups and seconds who tried to help them. A fight for power commenced and Kamota was unwillingly sucked into the fight. He left the pack in fear of being killed and continued on, he left at the age of two years. Exactly one year after leaving his family and 9 months after he joined the pack. He then entered the majestic Relic Lore to begin a new life. Looking for a pack. His new journey.
-Like a phoenix, I rise from the ashes.-
~Anger is a short madness.
With her body growing tense, she observed the black coated man in an awkward silence. She hadn't answered his other stupid questions, so why not humor him? With a casual toss of her head, the older wolf shrugged at Rhysis. "So the other areas are not as beautiful?" Yes, let's humor him in the form of a question. Mist hoped that Kamota was ignoring her sarcasm, for it was not intended for him whatsoever. Her blue-gray gaze stayed steady upon Rhysis' steely one.
Oh, she was toying with him. How refreshing. Most ignored him, others just looked at him as if they saw the crazy on the outside as well as the in. At least she was going to amuse him for a while... the other wolf though, well he was being ignorant and that really didn't sit well with him.
<i>You should teach him some manners. The short-arse needs a good kick in the right direction, don't you think?</i> <b>"Maybe... but he needs to be alone."</b> replied the lips from the real wolf, talking to thin air as if it had spoken to him. Clearly he had lost his marbles, but that didn't mean he wasn't dangerous- in fact, it made him more so. Such a change from the wolf he had been- it was fortunate he had yet to run into anyone who did know him and remembered the terrible deeds he had done and the seeds of doubt and hate he had planted in the minds of many. Lucky indeed he was still in one piece, but if he continued walking around wanting to beat everyone up, he wasn't going to last long. The ghost of his father wasn't going to inform that to him anytime soon. He was created from the darkness in his mind, the hate and self loathing that just wanted to destroy Rhysis for the terrible deed he had done... snapping the neck of his own, sick daughter. It had tipped him over the edge and now he was on the path to destorying himself, piece by piece with any luck. His obsession with pain burned as hot as his skin- he wanted to hurt, to bleed. He wanted to die.
He turned back to the female to address her, ignoring the rude male for now. There was no point attacking him with the other there... shame. He wanted to hurt, he wanted to die... but something in his mind stopped him from throwing himself off a cliff, or making stupid mistakes like taking on two wolves. There was something inside that made him hold onto some common sense... or as much of it as it could. <b>"What can I say? My parents were hippies."</b> he said, trying his best to stop his nose from wrinkling out of habit. <b>"Oh, there are many areas far more beautiful... but I just don't seem to fit."</b> he continued, his southern drawl falling from his mouth like the saliva which hung there.
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"Maybe your parents were lucky, I mean, when they had you, they must have cried to have such a disgrace. Maybe you don't fit because you don't try." Retorted a pissed of Kamota, but his voice was silky smooth, he'd hidden anger well all his life. It was more of a... gift perhaps. Yes, a gift, per-say not everyone was not necessary happy with his comment, he was fast. If they attacked, he could flee. He looked around as if to scout out an escape plan in case the worst actions happened. Mist kind of reminded him of his mother, when he was alone with his mother, she was kind, always nice. Reminding him of her when they were alone. Kamota figured it was his father that made his mother mean. Yes, definitely his father. If Kamota's mother could see him now, she'd be proud. He waited for a response from them.
-Like a phoenix, I rise from the ashes.-
~Anger is a short madness.
He felt his lips pull back into first a smirk, then a show of his teeth towards Kamota. Wisely the older female had kept quiet, so Rhysis didn't mind moving forwards to push into the other's personal bubble. With a low, smooth tone, he replied. "Kamota you say your name was?" he asked, though there was nothing innocent in the question as he allowed a rumble to leave his chest. "I'll keep that in mind for your headstone. Next time we meet, I shall bury you." he added with a snap at the other, his hackles bristled, body tense in case the other made a move. He would quite happily had butchered him there and then, but he would be outnumbered and he wasn't in much of a condition to fight, what with being hungry and all.
He gave a narrow of his grey eyes and stepped back, shook himself as if nothing had happened and replaced a stotic expression rather then an aggressive one. He believed he had made his point and next time they met, Rhysis would quiet happily tear out his jugular. The insult hadn't bothered him, he just didn't like the little prick with a pole up his ass. "Until then." he said and turned to vanish into the shadows of the forest as if he were nothing more then a breeze.
Exit.