Ghastly Woods Toil and Trouble

Naira - A spider tried to crawl up your nose!

There are no heroes

• NAIRA AQUILA •

in life the monsters win

The autumn wind carried an unnatural chill as the tawny wolf nosed her way through the fallen leaves of the Ghastly Wood. The trees creaked eerily but it hardly bothered queen - this place still reminded her of home. The musty smell of damp leaves and earth carried a sweet crispness with the onset of the colder months, and she hardly had a second thought as she dropped her front half to push through the leaves and dirt before her hefty rear fell to the side and she rolled to her back, wriggling happily from side to side and allowing her tongue to loll from her mouth contentedly. It was days like this she lived for. Finally on the inside, she felt peaceful and content.

Knowing the woods to be a regular haunt of @Mapplethorpe’s, she hardly gave a second thought before rising back to her feet and continuing to root through the fallen leaves, looking for some indication of a recent cache or kill. Finally her sharp nose picked up the scent of something tasty and her ears pricked forward, her snuffling increasing in veracity as she made her way to the rotted base of a long dead tree. Her stomach rumbled in anticipation as she thrust her nose into the dark crevasse and wrapped her jaws greedily about the remnants of a long dead marmot.

It wasn’t until she withdrew her muzzle that she felt a tickle about her left nostril. Crossing her eyes to try and spy just what was causing her discomfort, her meal was quickly dropped as an ungodly shriek of horror left her jaws. Paws flew to her face as her head shook from side to side in an attempt to dislodge the monstrous beast, but the large spider was firmly set in its attempt to turn her much too small nostril into it’s new spidery cave.

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(This post was last modified: Oct 22, 2013, 02:36 AM by Naira.)

How about, we really try to keep any eventual conversation away from Mapplethorpe? I'd rather Cezanne didn't find out about his whereabouts this soon. :)

You get up, and life goes on. It's a rhythm, it's a routine, the waking up and shaking out the fur; blinking eyes greet the world anew, ears and nose getting their bearings, then you're off again, off the ground, heaviness and cold dissipating with the toil of life. It's aeterna, yet never the same, every sky different, every wind unique.Autumn was here, in full force, trees ablaze with red, gold and yellow, frost covering the ground each night and lingering long into the mornings—and she followed the chill north, begging winter to freeze her inflamed mind over. The world was vast, and the road dangerous. Twice she'd almost stuck her head too far in under the guillotine, barely able to retract it before the blade came down.Her breath steamed into the cold air.

It was one thing to grasp that which she had always had a right to, to lead and command those who had always known her, always known she would ascend the throne—quite another, to be out here, and try to convince the feral world to accept her, and do what she told it to. Every day was a fight of a different kind, the hunt for the food to keep her strong, every encounter in which her tail rose and lips peeled back. She almost felt as if she was getting nowhere, or as if it didn't quite matter as much anymore. She was, finally, out where blood ran hot and thick, where life snapped right back at her, sometimes catching her throat in its jaws, and it made her feel all the more alive.But she wouldn't give up. Couldn't. She just wasn't in a hurry to return.The forest changed, from thick to thicker, frost-blackened vines hanging from low branches to brush at her fur. Dead and decaying, waiting for the snow to cover it, the ground crunched beneath her step, and the wind keened, and trees creaked. Perhaps a lesser wolf would've shivered and turned away, but Cézanne was not a coward (albeit, she had to admit, an idiot at times). Ears perked and eyes sweeping incessantly she made her way deeper, sniffing in passing at branches and bushes. Someone else was here. She knew it; could feel it in her bones.A shriek split the air.Maybe another wolf would've leaped into action out of concern; Cézanne did it out of curiosity. With ease she bounded through the territory, relishing the feeling of muscles stretching out properly, taking the leap onto a boulder..... and came to see the scene. A most enticing dead marmot, and a she-wolf flinging her head around, pawing at her nose, as if it was on fire. Cézanne's lips curled into a lopsided grin, baring a little teeth under the thick branches and their ghastly song. It seemed this corner of the world was full of spectacular wolves.

There are no heroes

• NAIRA AQUILA •

in life the monsters win

“Getitoff! Getitoff! Getitooooooff!” She moaned with eyes screwed shut. She had been causing such a kerfuffle that she did not hear the stranger approaching, and with a spider half lodged in her nose, her sense of smell was somewhat muted. Whines began to sound from her throat, high pitched and needy like a hungry pup. If she were able, tears would most likely be streaming down her face with frustration as the spiders grippy legs clung tightly to the short fur about her muzzle.

Cracking open her lids to glare imposingly at the spider did her no good at all, the only result being that she ended up cross-eyed with everything past the spider showing in doubles. It was then that she noticed the stranger, and far from her usual standoffish self she foolishly ran towards the woman, zig-zagging and shaking her head as she went. The loose leaves made the ground rather slippery and so as she tried to pull herself up her rear legs slipped to the side and her front legs splayed stopping just short of bowling the poor woman over.

She was quick to tip back her head from her lower position half on the floor, thrusting her nose in the face of the stranger so seven of the eight spindly legs and a rather plump spider abdomen could be seen waving about protruding from her nose. “Get. It. Ooouuuuut! PLEASE!” She moaned, almost begging the stranger . It would seem the spider had become rather firmly lodged in her nose and it would take more than herself to get it out.

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Look Out!

There are several fresh rabbit tracks in the snow. Hunt Opportunity

The world's certainly a freak show. Cézanne was the spectator at the show, face and eyes alight with a savage kind of amusement—there were no allies in the wild, only contestants for life, and nothing was ever likely to turn her altruistic—bah, no. She enjoyed watched strangers struggle, and expected no help from then when nature came for her.Seemed like this bitch wasn't of the same mind.She came running over, and Cézanne's cold amusement turned to a stern look of disapproval. She hadn't quite determined the source of the craziness yet—it could be some illness. With a look as if confronted with something distasteful, Cézanne backed half a step as the other female crashed into an ungraceful stop.A warning growl rumbled in her chest.

And went unheeded, it seemed.A black nose was thrust almost against hers while the woman wailed pitifully about something Cézanne wasn't too keen on interpreting. In this, she was deus, and the other just nothing but a mortal, begging for her mercy—but she was not merciful. She was tired of these wolves trying to shove their shit at her, and their attitudes, everything. Ears forward, eyes on fire, lips peeled back to reveal ready fangs—and with a hellish snarl Cézanne pitched her head forward, aiming to simply grab the other wolf's muzzle in her jaws, and hold it, tight, to push the points of her fangs against the fragile bones.. remind her who it was she was facing, establish the hierarchy.She was Cézanne the Fucking Queen, and this bitch was just outright crazy.