&&no regrets, no regrets... [joining]

[*LUNA]

[atrb=width,450,true][bg=141414][atrb=border,0,true][cs=7] Stretches out like branches of a poplar tree, She says, i'm free... ----- The air in this area clung with mist, hovering over the lands for as far as the eye could see. The smell of rain and fog combined was a soothing one, one that awoke your nerves, ready to work their fullest, helping with the added difficulty of sight. With the mist came secrecy and stealth, increasing your chance of catching meat. That is, if you didn't trip over a root or loose stone in the process. But the wolves here knew their way around the land. They knew where and where not to step on, for the safety of their being. They did not want to sprain their ankle in the hidden rabbit hole in between the trees. In this world, it was survival of the fittest; with a sprained ankle, you couldn't hunt for the life-sustaining meat, needed to survive in the wild. Luckily, meat had started to return to the lands of these wolves, ending the never-ending search for what little scraps of prey they could find. Animals were now more plentiful, and with them came their offspring, born over the winter times. The more little ones, the better, as the cycle of prey needed to continue onwards, not run into exctinction. A ptarmigan, it's feathers in between changing from winter white to summer brown, perched on a rock above the fog. There it sat, beak under wing, removing some of the loose white feathers. It looked up to the clear blue sky, seeing other birds flying north, back to their summer grounds. A call of his breed sounded out through the air, and the ptarmigan shouted out a response. It shook once, bunching itself inward, preparing for a nap. Travelling was tiring, and a rest was needed to continue on it's journey to the more northern lands. The seconds passed by as the rise and fall of it's chest slowed, the bird going into deep sleep. With it's black eyes shut, it did not notice the white shape nearby. Crouched in the mist, light blue eyes staring at him, she slowly neared the meat. The ptarmigan was unaware of the predator behind him, too soundly into his dream of warmer climates and never-ending food. A smile, with sharp white teeth ready to dig into the flesh, and a pawstep closer. The feathers running along her back stayed flat, hugging against her fur. Even with such an unbeatable odd, she knew that there was the one in a million chance of losing her prey, and she did not want to take it. She neared ever closer, never removing her gaze from the mess of chocolate and white feathers. Muscles tensed in her hind legs, ready for the jump. Then, she snapped, leaping towards the bird like a blinding white bullet. The rush of air alerted the ptarmigan of the hunter behind him, but it was too late. Teeth had already found it's way to his neck and he was dead before he had even cried out. The hunter blew out, allowing the loose white feathers to escape from her mouth. Gently, she picked up the ptarmigan again, but did not eat it. Although the mouth-watering aroma and taste was almost unbearable, she continued on her walk, never stopping her even and steady gait. She walked for countless minutes, but still did not drop the bird and prepare to eat it's soft flesh. Blue eyes were filled with determination, as if this was a set course. But where? She knew, and her steps were with purpose and meaning. Each paw, placed one in front of the other, carried her towards her destination, wherever that was. She did not stop for anything, but continued on her way, strong and cool. It had taken her years to build up that confidence that she held around her, and only a few days to break it, similar to a glass vase. But objects can be replaced or fixed, so over time the shards came together again, where she once again was collected and patient. She stopped abruptly then, black nose sniffing the air for a scent. Yes, here it was. White head lowered to the green grass, gently letting the bird go to land softly on the ground. But, yet again, she did not eat the warm flesh of the ptarmigan. Her head raised once more, azure eyes staring out to some invisible other. "I have come to join your pack. I bring with me meat as an offering."

[/b] She called out strongly and surely, her voice retaining the calmness of her gait. White ears perked up, waiting for any response or sound in the distance.

word count;; 772
for;; any member of the pack
puppet;; luna
comments;; luna wants to join :3
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[, t i n d ë]

A luxuriant inhale, breathing in the dew of the mist. There was perpetual chill about the fog that seeped between the spaces of his bones- but no worries, no worries. The wolf had already called the valley his home, and the brittle wraith that hung over the land like a limp shadow bothered him no less than the eerily silent mornings.

The figure slipped through the mist, his gait lazy and meandering, dainty and self-imposed. An outsider would view his stroll to be aimless, and it was. He had no crucial duties upon him, and really- a walk through the valley could certainly not be a crime, could it? Even if the almost militant demeanor of the Pa'chuua pack seemed to speak the opposite. But Tinde had always been a wolf of contradictions.

A blink. And then another, this one slow and with his yellow eyes rolling interestedly towards a direction. There was the smell of a fresh kill wafting from southwest...and- could it be?

"I have come to join your pack. I bring with me meat as an offering."

Ahh...ha, ha, ha! A delighted, crooked grin spread across the gentleman's face, an expression of true ecstasy. It did not look sadistic, nor did it seem delirious. Really, if one did not know what he had been smiling towards, one would have believed it was simply the benign gesture of a truly happy young man, perhaps having recieved an acceptance from his first love or happened upon a particularly welcoming lake to relax in.

But Tinde was never so simple. And this was wonderful! A pending member to toy with- and she sounded so stilted, so rule-abiding. (Although, of course, looks were always decieving.) Ah...Lithium may adore her, he thought darkly, yet with relish.

And his figure unfurled from the throes of the mist, right behind the other Archangel. He watched her waiting frame critically, taking in the white pelt and the alert stance, and remembering how strongly she had introduced herself. What to think, what to think...

So crude, madam, wouldn't you believe so? What has come of the Pa'chuua pack's reputation if you are so sure a hunk of meat can persuade us to welcome you in? He was the devil's advocate, testing her, playing with her. Really, somewhere he appreciated and admired the other wolf's effort, but it would never show. Tinde was smoke and mirrors, face after face after face, although that damning smile always stayed.

And it was there now. He was smiling- a gentle, open smile, almost friendly...his voice and expression were two completely conflicting things. He wondered, idly, which she would go for.

Smiling. Waiting.

[.lithium__&&]

l i t h i u m

light the fires of the night

. . .

Feathery tendrils of mist, stained a delicate shade of pink by the feeble glow of the setting sun, tenderly caressed the silver fur of the resident alpha as she loped off toward her border. To be completely honest, Lithium wasn't really in the mood to confront a trespasser, even if they came bearing gifts -- the injuries she had sustained during her scuffle with the Nyxients were throbbing, and, as her betas were sure to know, when the alpha was weakened she just became even more prickly and defensive.

"What do you want, stranger?" the slate-gray Archangel snarled at the ptarmigan-bearing she-wolf, her black-tipped ears flattening aggressively as she cut in over Tinde's meaningless banter [read: mind games].

o o c || Ack, terrible post...I apologize. D':

. . .

watch the flames flicker down...

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