Protection? Why did they think they had that when they were not under
his protection? The god provided them everything they needed they had nothing without him, only the illusion of it. They couldn’t possibly think that their sins would be forgotten for every little good deed they did, could they? Foolish creatures of the wild, they were not forgiven or forgotten, the god would remember. Every face and every name was clearly imprinted to his brain, he had in his life time met over 100 wolves and he could tell each one apart, their faces and names were so familiar to him that every scent was as different as lavender and dirt. He didn’t forget and he certainly didn’t forget the betrayal the heathens had led him to. He would find each one of them in their holes and slaughter them like pigs.
The southern woods were much different from those he had first entered, larger, more open and the trees were taller. He had been to most extremes and this was more the sort of nature he was used to, even if more open landscape than this. It still gave him a wider range for his senses to combine and catch the sound and smell of others. Uneventful days were unusual to him but he saw it as silence before the storm, a storm he would cause a global warming to melt the poles, breaking the ice and overflow this hell, he would lead the attack and he wouldn’t let anyone get in his way of destroying and cleaning out this earth. It was his duty as god, as a higher being than the others he had the responsibility of them.
He had searched for his sister ever since he got here, he had let his nose guide him to wherever it wanted to go, his senses and being wanting her more than it wanted food, water and shelter. Loath had survived extreme weathers years before, his sister and him curling up on open landscape as storms and snow raged around them, they had killed any obstacle in their path, the demon figured as their father had been slain by his fangs, the traitors Jayli and Wicker had been killed by his fangs, the golden desert wolf had been tortured by his fangs, the beta of the desert who was left behind at his mercy had suffered under his regime. It wasn’t his fault, that woman insulted Loathe and he could not let that slide. You didn’t insult an angel in front of a god.
Mercy had never been high on the menu for Loath, he had seen what mercy did. He gave Jayli a chance to live, to get together and grow stronger over the loss of Louise and Sparx, it had hit everyone hard, if not Loath the hardest. Sparx was no beta or commander, he was a simple gamma leading the others healers, but he had been strong, healthy and he was the only one who didn’t bow and crumble in front of his god, he had served him because he lived for their purpose. Sparx had been close to Loath and fire had taken him as the death of Louise, his mate, came soon after leaving two children behind with nothing but emptiness. Loath had taken Darken to him, found her to have the same skills as her adopted father Sparx, healing. His son Livius was a spitting image of his father in his nature and behavior, Loath instantly loved the boy. Yet.
He had given him to Jayli, hoping that the image of Sparx would heal her better. The two children and Loath grieved over Sparx and Louise, but they moved on. Jayli did not. She was stuck in the past and no matter what Loath did to make her happy she never came to smile. She made poor judgment calls and he had to take rank away from her and soon enough Livius as she guided him down the wrong path. On the night of the fire where Sparx passed Loath had shown no sign of weakness, he didn’t stop to mourn or cry, he lead his wolves to dig a barrier around the fire, stopping it from spreading further, he guided everyone out and to safety, he hadn’t been stopped because his best friend died, he was a god and while a god could feel grief he was too divine to let it control him. He had been leading first and foremost and didn’t stop until it was all over.
The only particularly good news on that day was the homecoming of Columbyne’s son. The mad woman, the black beta who had ruled with an iron fist over the ranks given to her, she had a bullet in her head, an infected wound somewhere that made her smell so rotten. Completely decaying with madness and yet she was brilliant. She died before Sparx did, she had known the risk of it all, she had known it could happen and she came with them anyway the day they took the desert woman, the beta of the south. How he hated and loved that wench. He had heard rumors of her return to the south, ruling over them now instead. Columbyne’s son had returned to them though, heard his mother had come here, bringing him the news wasn’t easy but he soon filled out a role in their land and he turned out to be as mad and brilliant as his mother.
He hadn’t stopped in his search for now, anything familiar anything he knew would be good. He knew over a hundred faces and nothing was familiar here, he hadn’t seen or scented anyone he knew and he was realizing that he was in a completely different part of the world than what he had known. New customs packs and faces. His only hope now was that Loathe would find him hear, he would continue his search, he would never stop, but she had to come to him now. They had faced demons together, they had cleared out hell and created a paradise amongst it, they had tamed madmen they would deal with this obstacle as well. They would be apart from now and he would start his cleansing of the earth until he found her. They were all going to burn and drown for this.
He knew this territory could contain anything, any creature of any sort and even though it had been years since he had seen hell he slowly saw it for what it was. The trees burnt down, glowing like bundle of ash, dried lava, flowing underneath him, the heat overtake and burning up through his legs, glowing eyes of the darkness and the sky dark and clouded with ash heavy than clouds. He was slowly entering a regime of hell.* He didn’t let the heat or flames that licked toward his face bother him, it wanted to destroy him but his white fur glowed off glory and divinity it rebounded off him, it couldn’t touch him as much as it wanted to, it wanted to see him burn like it made all the mortals burn with misery and suffering, but Loath was immune to the fire of hell – he was immortal.
And as he walked he stopped, his ears twisting and turning and his nose flaring. Someone was here. He didn’t approach he sniffed at first and was now certain. This was no border this was no pack he had entered. He knew that heathens like this one could turn out aggressive, liars, murders and demons it was all they were. Approaching wasn’t his highest wish right now, actually he rather go around her. But that was just the thing wasn’t it? It was a female. He turned and went against the wind, he didn’t crouch or go low but carefully stepped around every branch or twig on the ground. He wanted to see her before showing himself and so he neared her wind coming against him and therefore she shouldn’t be able to smell him. He kept still for very long, watching her searching the forest floor.
There was a terrible truth to Loath. In every fight he had been in he didn’t fight with the same set of morals as heathens. He didn’t need to fight fair or equal to them, they were below him in existence and they knew that, they should know he had no reason to be fair to them. After all how could you ever fight fairly when you stood against a god? They were bound to lose anyway. Loath had lied to a naive boy in the marsh, a boy who thought they were going to meet and bow and fight. As Loath approached him Miko had asked if he was the challenger. Loath lied to the naive boy and said his leader had given in and wouldn’t fight. As Miko turned to leave the area the god and strike from behind, grabbed his scruff and pushed his shoulder down and he had drowned the boy in the water. He had no qualms for it, naive, stupid and a heathen no less. Miko had prayed to other gods. He couldn’t let sins like that live.
One should watch their every move around a god, gods didn’t live like mortals and especially not Loath, he was not known for mercy, he was known for righteous justice of his own, he was known for his goal of ridding this world and life for impure beings like the one standing in front of him right now. He knew he could easily charge from behind without she would even see him coming, but she was small, she was unaware. Something stupidity was what saved others from the wrath of this god. He on purpose stepped on to a branch, pushed his paw down until it snapped loudly making his position known. He didn’t take his eyes off the female, the burnt orange eyes staring on to her. What would she become?
Naive heathen blissfully living by a god or destroyed mortal soul? Only he could decide that. Only the god had the power of life and death.
And he wasn’t feeling merciful today.
[ooc: *Yeah nothing is actually burning or anything, he just hallucinates his way around at times.]
(This post was last modified: Jan 06, 2013, 12:38 PM by Loath.)
Responses are slow from my end cause I just gave birth to a tiny boy.
Sex: Female
