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Whut?
Aug 1, 2006 6:07:57 GMT -5
Post by Memoru on Aug 1, 2006 6:07:57 GMT -5
What...is this?
He'd died, hadn't he? He remembered dying. Remembered being struck down and shredded by angry, massive claws and teeth, as his brother lay dead beside him. He could recall the feeling of having his throat ripped open and watching his attacker slink away to let him die alone. The scent of his own blood heavy in his nostrils. The slow, painful feeling of slipping away into nothingness. Being consumed by darkness...
...then light.
And he'd ended up here, in some sort of forest, strewn with trees unfamiliar to his eyes. It smelled wrong, and the birds here sang alien songs in his ears. What was this?
Tor craned his dark neck to glare at the deep canopy of leaves. The foliage was still, except for the occasional rustle of bird or breeze. He wrinkled his nose and lowered his head. He'd find no answers there.
"I'm dead,"he said, quite loudly, beneath a growling tenor. His mouth gaped, searching for more words to add to that, nothing came. What more could he say? What did one say when they were dead?
And how the hell was he still breathing?
"Well I ain't fookin' goin' to learn anything by standin' here,"he growled, and with a quick flick of his tail he padded forward, head lowered and ears raised warily.
Where was Dagstae? Where was his brother? If he was here too...He'd have to find him. Couldn't have gotten off too far. Perhaps he'd run into someone who'd give him some bleeding answers.
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Vitenka
Lone Wolf
Tiger in Disguise.
Posts: 21
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Whut?
Aug 1, 2006 21:59:09 GMT -5
Post by Vitenka on Aug 1, 2006 21:59:09 GMT -5
Vitenka would cough, his eyes opening to face a new dawn. Moments later he would recall his throat being clamped down upon, his own brother proceeding to speak a muffled monolouge about such a blasphemous act would not go unpunished. Killing countless of innocent lives even when he wasn't hungry, out of pure malice alone just to kill... To feel the blood stain his fangs. Why did he do it, Xyvtahk asked him through the tears now welling in his eyes, why did he become this monster?
Vitenka would reply he didn't know. Wrong answer, obviously, as the fur and flesh was ripped from him in a surprisingly quick and painless motion. A long torture was a commodity that his brother was to spare him, one last wish before decending into the Underworld.
In a last moment of dying and determined strength, however, Vitenka would too mortally wound his friend-turned-opponent. Though not nearly as merciful to let him die quickly, the younger brother made sure his own kin would pass slowly. Crawling, probably, losing blood quickly. He would never live to know how it all ended, as his three legs quickly surrended from out under him. Next was the eyes. Clouded as they were already it wouldn't take long for Vitenka to succumb to the darkness.
Next it was like he was falling, then waking up. At first it seemed as nothing had happened, as if Vitenka had simply woken up and everything previous had been... Well, a dream. When he noticed it wasn't the same place he had fallen asleep at, though, his heart sunk a little. He really was dead. He had really been killed by his brother. But if this was Hell... Hell, it wasn't bad at all! It looked like a perfect habitat for wolves. In fact, it was even better than what he left.
Now, laying there, getting up was a whole other ordeal. Having only three legs had it's pros and cons, one of the cons getting up in the morning. Well, other than having one less thing for the enemy to bite at, three legs weren't effective at all. With a sigh Vitenka would struggle to get up, though after two unsuccessful tries he had at last gotten his footing. Yawning was the next involuntary movement, then...
What could he do, anyway?
Though undeniably awesome, this... Place didn't have much going on. No victims mindlessly running from the terror which was him... Nothing. "O.. Kay," he muttered, lifting his head to sniff the air. It was by coincedence alone that Vitenka would pick up a suspicious scent, a scent that he hadn't smelled before. Another wolf, maybe? A wolf that actually knew where he was. Maybe this was... Some other place other than... Down below. Suddenly intrigued, he would follow his nose.
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Whut?
Aug 1, 2006 22:34:09 GMT -5
Post by Memoru on Aug 1, 2006 22:34:09 GMT -5
[Sorry it took so long. Had to play with a nephew and get some supper into me.]
There was a scent. A living scent, foreign to his nostrils but not all together unpleasant. Another wolf, perhaps. This too was a little off, but what wasn't here? Whatever it was, it was not Tor's brother. His hackles raised warily, the fur all over his body standing on end. His muscles quivered, and he had to qualm the feeling of unease. Even if this wasn't Dagstae, it didn't mean this stranger was something to worry about. The scent stank of wolf. Wolves he could handle. Perhaps if this new individual was nice enough (or weak enough), Tor would be able to wrangle a handful of explanations from them.
Tor swung back his head and let out a short howl, deep and gruff as was his voice. He lunged forward just as his maw snapped shut, follow that new scent with vigor. Answers, he wanted answers.
It was not long before the scent grew stronger, clearer, and Tor could tell more from it than just its existence. It was male, still odd, as far as wolf-smells go, but not nearly as unnerving as this place. It smelled like a hybrid.
Those Tor could deal with as well, being himself of mixed and ancient lineage. Dire blood ran through his veins, turning him into the bulky brute he was today, and adding the darkness to his mackerel coat. He was not much larger than the average wolf, as far as his height and width was concerned, but the girth of his chest and the thickness of his limbs was a coupled effort of both his lineage and his lifestyle. Tor was a warrior wolf, as had been Dagstea, his beloved brother, and they had died defending their pack. Died noble, worthy deaths.
And yet...he was still alive. The thought baffled him, so he banished it to the back of his mind where he wouldn't have to muddle over it again. Thoughts like that were for the foolish.
Movement caught the corner of his eye. His head swung toward it.
The wolf.
Disfigured.
Tor's lips curled. Perfect. It wouldn't be hard to extract any helpful information from the creature if he was impaired. Whether through bullying or an offer for protection, Tor could manage it. That edge of confidence on his mind, he loped through the trees and into line of sight of this stranger.
"Finally, a bit o' life around 'ere,"said Tor, loud enough for the other to hear,"Hey there, you, wolf! Been 'ere long?"
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Vitenka
Lone Wolf
Tiger in Disguise.
Posts: 21
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Whut?
Aug 1, 2006 23:24:33 GMT -5
Post by Vitenka on Aug 1, 2006 23:24:33 GMT -5
It would be his disfigurement that, indeed, sent most wolves into an unbelieveable phase of confidence. This situation was no different. Too many had underestimated him, as yet it was that which sent him to be known as the terror of the forests. His own forest in which he ruled, however, the scent of strangeness in the air telling him to tread cautiously. It was as if this place belonged to someone else. Though not to this other wolf in particular, someone darker, more powerful. It was by a stroke of seldom politeness that Vitenka would appear to be frail... Frightened, even. Quite the contrary, actually. Excitement is what he lived for.
Vitenka's oversized ears would perk at the sound of the other's voice, his head snapping to meet them. The wolf he saw was like him a hybrid, but a less obvious one if he was ever to see one. He, with his lanky legs and dark mane... The connection of the two wolf subspecies was there.
It was undeniable, though, that this wolf wasted no time in introductions. A hasty one. A demanding one. Perhaps someone who rushed too quickly into confrontation and battle and didn't think to know the consequences. Instead of voicing his blatant opinion of this thick-legged and rather muscular individual, he retained the same posture of a inquisitive and helpless thing who was afraid what was to become of himself.
"No," he would finally reply, his voice somewhat startled from the accented jargon of the other. It took a while to connect as Vitenka had been raised by Russians, humans who spoke in bass, throaty voices. He was unintroduced to... This type of spoken word, and that was the truth. Even if he liked to think he had this wolf figured out for the most part, the way he spoke was absolutely appalling. It would be a miracle if, whatever he asked next, he would actually understand.
Great. Just great.
They definately weren't in Kansas anymore.
And seeing that he's never had seen this wolf in his life, well, that was alll the more reason to assume he was dead. This was Hell. Yay! Or, wait, where was the pain and suffering and torture and brimstone? Take that, Xyvtahk! Maybe Heaven was Hell and Hell was Heaven. Score one for the home team.
"So. You've just came here too?" he would ask, trying not to prod. It would be then when Vitenka felt comfortable enough to approach the male further. It was only a few feet, albeit six at the most, but a comfortable speaking distance.
"You're asking the wrong wolf if you want answers about what this place is. Hell was my first assumtion. Then, Purgatory, as it's not exactly... Bad."
Vitenka would stop at that. Rambling could be dangerous, something he had only just realized mid-sentence. With the quick remnants of a good natured smile, though it would quickly fade.
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Aug 2, 2006 0:22:03 GMT -5
Post by Memoru on Aug 2, 2006 0:22:03 GMT -5
Such a frail looking creature. And that voice, heavily accented but shaky to his ears. No, this wolf was not a threat to Tor at all. He sat back on heavy haunches, curling his black tail around his bulky hips. Ah, but that accent was no easy one to pinpoint. Certainly from no place Tor had ever been. Perhaps these strange, foreign lands were his. Good, he could get some information, some explanations. Perhaps he knew how Tor got here, and why he wasn't dead.
But the stranger's next words quashed any hope of that.
Too. So this wolf was a newcomer also.
"Yeah,"the word was drawn out, folksy. He watched through narrowing eyes at the wolf approached him. He didn't like it when there was no fear, no cowardly urge to back away or hide. Not that Tor felt any urge to lash out at this frail, three-legged defunct, as nonthreatening as he appeared, but still...one does not simply approach a wolf of such greater size! Tor didn't want to scare him off with his own arrogance, so he forced his eyes to unclenched, his muscles to relax,"Just bloody popped up here. Thought I was bleedin' dead. Gods 'er playin' tricks on us tonight." He let out a gruff growl,"Y'ain't got a clue how y' got here either?"
Purgatory? He'd never heard of that. Hell, yes of course. Heaven too. But he didn't think there was no in between. Foolishness that is. Yer either good or yer bad, that's all there is to it.
"I don't know what no purgatory is, but I'll take any suggestion y'got. Hell, last thing I remember my fookin' neck was torn out and I was dyin'. This don't make no sense." This being hell wouldn't make much sense either. Sure, Tor had done some damn rotten things in his life. That was life, no one was without sin. But he'd spent and awful longer part of his time on earth making up for that, fighting in the name of justice and good. He was a bloody crusader of wolves, fighting his own feral holy wars.
"Naw, it ain't bad,"he sniffed,"But it's queer. I don't like it." It confused him. He didn't like things being outside the norm.
Where was Dagstae? His brother would sort this out. Or if he didn't, at least Tor would have some sort of familiarity to hold on to. That reminded him...
"'Ave you seen any other wolves 'round 'ere? Big one's, like me?" that might send a little tremor up the skinny thing's spine. Knowing there were two giant brutes like him wandering this wood. "Been lookin' fer my brother, Da-"
Ah yes! Names!
"Fook! Didn't bother introducin' myself yet, 'ave I? I'm Tor. Y' got a name there, wolf?"
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Vitenka
Lone Wolf
Tiger in Disguise.
Posts: 21
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Whut?
Aug 2, 2006 3:46:33 GMT -5
Post by Vitenka on Aug 2, 2006 3:46:33 GMT -5
"Vitenka."
It felt odd speaking his name out loud. After all, it wasn't exactly his real name. He had been dubbed via the humans who brought and assisted him to existance, the impossible hybrid that should've never been. There had been others, of course, as he had learned later in his life. Other experiments given odd sames, an infamous one 'Project 17'. They had been relocated in different locations around the area, immense squares of fences that served as territories... Or that's what Xyvtahk, brother and enemy, had told him during their first - last - confrontation as living beings.
The other wolf, Tor, seemed to mention something about him dying as well. Did he, too, appear in this land equally as confused? They both died, didn't they, in an ironically similar manner of torn throats? It seemed only the motive in which they had passed was different. Or, really, he could only assume that. Vitenka hadn't managed or waited long enough for the other to spill the details on how he died.
"As to your questions, both are negative. I haven't seen any wolves since my... Arrival. Only you, really, and I can only assume there's more. I mean, there can't simply be only two of us in this god forsaken lands. My only theory on why we're here is that this is the afterlife, life after death. Not Heaven, Hell, or inbetween. That's what it seems like, anyway, as I don't see any fire, clouds, or... Whatever the 'inbetween' looks like," he shrugged, taking a look around the general area. Trees. Yay. Not like he'd seen enough of those.
"We're still dead, don't get me wrong. We're just... Alive again. Though, however, I'm not sure how that works. If we can die again, this might be a second life. Test, maybe, to prove whether or not we're bad or good. Either way this goes, I'm sure most of us, if there's more of us, can adapt easily enough."
That is, if they all didn't wage warfare and attempt to each other first. In the imminent feuds to come, and if they could die, Vitenka could only dream of the massive death that would occur if indeed two sides of wolves did form. Otherwise, if they were split up so strategically as to never find each other or confront, Tor and himself being an exception to that rule, no wars for little Vitt to watch. Oh, well. With a small sigh to commemorate the thought, he would end his morbid thoughts for another day.
Feeling the immediate pressure upon his back legs and not wanting the singular front limb to fail foolishly from out under him, Vitenka sat. Another sigh. He hadn't realized that being stationary for so long could put tiring pain upon the joints, especially since it wasn't equally distributed through the complete set of four legs. The hybrid's excuse for not being so aquainted with this feeling is that he was always on the move, his long legs quickly and successfully moving him from any place he desired.
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Aug 2, 2006 4:50:32 GMT -5
Post by Memoru on Aug 2, 2006 4:50:32 GMT -5
"Vitenka,"the name tasted odd on his tongue. Tor wrinkled his nose a little, but the lines on his face were not quite ones of disgust. Tor wasn't used to be kind to foreign things. Foreign things were the one's he usually killed,"Good enough as any, aye? Kinda flowery though, innit?" He didn't like flowery names. They were all fine and dandy for females, who, in his mind, should have flowery, delicate names. But for a male?
Ah well, not much he could say against it. A name was a name. This wolf didn't look like much of a warrior anyway, all thin and long-legged, with that missing forelimb. Wouldn't do him any good in battle.
"Prove ourselves?" Tor leapt to his paws, neck lowered and gaze narrowed, though not at Vitenka. At the gods themselves! He growled, a furious, deep snarl that made his fur bristle,"What the fookin' hell was the first life for, then?" He snorted, snapping his gaze to Vitenka,"If this is an afterlife, or whatever yer callin' it, fine. But I don't want t' die again and be whisked off to some other fairy world! One fookin' life is good enough, thank-you. If I'm dead I want to fookin' stay dead!" Or he wanted paradise. He wanted something he deserved for all his bloody good-deeds and righteous cleansing of evil-doers. Why the hell should he have to do it all over again? Wasn't once enough? Is 'one' too small a number for all those goddamn holy bastard gods?!
Tor exhaled sharply, letting out a half-snarled breath before sitting back down. His chest heaved still, and his fur had yet to flatten. He looked truly dangerous, sitting their angry and frustrated.
"Ye understand, don't ye? I mean, Lord! Ye've lost a bleedin' leg! Ye can't want to go through all that shite again, do ya?" Tor snorted,"This fookin' better not be a test. I want paradise,"as promised by all those who sent him to battle, to death,"or I fookin' want nothin' at all."
Tor was tired. He'd died once, fully expecting that to be the end. Reincarnation he could understand. They'd promised that too. Reincarnation as some powerful, godly creature that would allow him to continue his life renewed, refreshed, stronger. Or heaven, paradise. They promised something more than this queer, mundane world. Tor could honestly say he didn't believe their promises. He'd expected hell for many a moon, always saw it coming every time he leapt into battle. He could also believe in nothingness.
He could not believe in tests. More tests.
He'd proved himself, goddammit, and whatever deity sent them to this wretched land should be able to work with just one life.
And where the fuck was Dagstae?
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Vitenka
Lone Wolf
Tiger in Disguise.
Posts: 21
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Whut?
Aug 2, 2006 20:32:26 GMT -5
Post by Vitenka on Aug 2, 2006 20:32:26 GMT -5
"I never lost my leg, per se," Vitenka would begin, attempting not to sound defending of the phantom limb. In any other situation, in his territory, the pseudo-Russian of a beast would have. It had become a touchy subject for him in the past years leading up to his death, as it was the more blatant attributes that he had aquired, a thing in which could be laughed at. Many would, pondering how an animal could even walk, as if something that he thought so minor made him any more insuccnificant to the world as he was now. A sigh would emit from the long legged wolf before he began to speak once more to Tor.
"I was born with it. You learn to adapt living with something less, especially when you can't do anything about it. I would've probably died any other way, but I suppose any other wolf would too," Vitenka would say, voice nearly breaking mid-sentence. This conversation was getting too personal, too uncomfortable for his taste. He had never told any other individual as such, nearly lashing out on the muscular being in front of him. But he wouldn't win. Each had their own doings, their own paths to walk. For him it was finding power. Or, rather, something close to it. Tor, on the other hand desired... His brother? They had been split, obviously. That had lead him to think that he, his brother, hadn't died along with him. He chose to hold his tongue, as it was none of his buisiness.
He would sympathize with Tor's solid views on the apparent 'second life'. With an idle scratch behind the ear, Vitenka would take little to no notice of his frustration. "I do understand. But it is just something beyond our control. For all I know this is paradise, Heaven, whatever you decide to call it. But that doesn't explain the.. The queerness of this place, now does it?"
Vitenka would wrinkle his nose at the emphasized word. It didn't fit with his human-aquired accent, the first letter being especially hard to articulate as it dealt with throat-prounced subtleties that had never been learned. Again, this accent of this particular wolf never did from the beginning fit with him. He was braced not to understand, to be honest. In fact, Vitenka was vaguely reminded of those... Other humans who watched him, touched and observed him dangerously up close. They spoke differently than the first humans that he had picked up the accent from, less articulated and clumsy. Oh well.
But names were a different thing altogether. What had Tor described his name as? Flowery. That was it. He struggled to make a connection, though doubted there was any, and moved onto the idea whether or not it was derogatory. It probably was. Vitenka was never fond of his name, anyway, so it phased him little. At least his name wasn't Vladimir or some ridiculous thing like that. Ew.
Rising to his feet he would look about, a defeated expression somewhat spread across his snout. Names and the idea of where they were put aside, they weren't going to accomplish anything by just standing here. Afterall, they could speak when they were walking. Perhaps they might even find his brother along the way.. Wait.
There was no 'they'. Both wolves had barely met each other, breaking into conversation with attempts to crack this mystery which was this place. It was habit to speak when you were spoken to, was it not? It wasn't long until they would have a full blown conversation, trading ideas on and off one another. That was a hopeless cause, it would seem before long, as the thick legged individual was unwavering to his opinions, angered by the fact that he hadn't recieved what was promised. Now, really, who had died and come back to tell the tale of the sought Heaven? As far as Vitenka knew, no one. "I have no doubt in my mind that your brother is somewhere out there, Tor. Even so, there's little chance he might find you here out of coincedence alone. He'll show up. If not, he'll follow your scent," he assured with a shrug, not sure if the larger one would succumb to the idea of leaving.
[[ OoC; It's fine. :3 I swear all the time so, hah, no big deal. And sorry for the late reply, I keep getting distracted and I'm really slow at typing up stuff. Eek! ]]
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Aug 3, 2006 1:35:22 GMT -5
Post by Memoru on Aug 3, 2006 1:35:22 GMT -5
Such a calm, collected person, this Vitenka. Haha, of course. No sense it picking fights when you were little and disabled. Tor didn't blame him, but, personally, he'd prefer his own loose temper and strong build to a clear-headed disposition and a weak little frame. Eh, no sense in holding it against the little feller, though. A bit of patience on his side could help him find Dagstae.
The questions startled him. This? This mundane world, heaven? No, Tor couldn't believe that. He'd like to, but if this was heaven, it was also a disappointment. Heaven promised riches, fresh meat to hunt in ever corner of the land, beautiful females to carry your pups. Not a wooded land that smelt wrong and belonged to foreign, deformed wolves, that could not have truly earned their right to stay here. No, this was not heaven.
"This ain't no heaven, wo-, Vi-, wolf." Tor never was good with foreign names, couldn't remember unusual things like that very well."Heaven ain't queer like this, just like you said,"he shook his head,"But I don't like not knowin' what this place is,"he sniffed, lifting his head and pricking his ears,"Or where I am."
Tor watched with morbid fascination as Vitenka rose to his paws, his eyes never once leaving the sight of that empty space, or the slightly off stance of a three-legged wolf. He'd seen plenty of casualties in his life, but Vitenka's thoughts were correct. No wolf lived very long with such a wound. A seasoned veteran of war, such as Tor and the many wolves he'd associated himself with, would not last long without all four legs beneath his body.
"Plannin' on lookin' for him, are ye?" Tor rose to his feet in turn, stretching his giant legs out in front of him with the movement and arching his back to rid it of kinks that had grown during his sit. There were consequences to hunching when one sat, and Tor never bothered to take mind of them beforehand. He finally stood, head held high, and padded a few feet closer to Vitenka. Only then did it dawn on him that this wolf was tall. He'd noticed the lanky legs (of the ones that were there) but he hadn't registered that they might have added quite that much height to the little brute.
Ah well. He was still a skinny little bugger.
"Dagstae's pretty good at takin' care o' himself,"he said, finally joining Vitenka on the continued path,"I don't like not knowin' where he is, though. Y'understand? We watch each other's backs. Can't 'ave him surrounded by hoards of fookin' queer foreign wolves, tryin' t' rip 'is throat out. Not meanin' t' offend ye, bein' foreign, but we ain't accustomed to bein' civil to sorts like ye,"he snorted,"But ye don't look like much trouble, what with only three legs. Scrawny too."
And if he'd just gotten here too, there was no worry about running into some burly pack members ready to ambush him. The forest smelled clear of wolves, fresh...as if hardly a one had passed between these trees. It was comforting, to know there were no others to worry about...but Tor didn't like it. Woods should stink of life.
"So,"he continued in his deep, booming voice, thick and slurred with the rustic accent he possessed,"Where might ye think we should head first? I'd been 'ere only minutes before I ran into you, can't say if there's anythin' o' interest back where I came from or no." Tor was eager to get moving. Moving meant a better chance of finding Dagstae, or other wolves lost in the labyrinth of unfamiliarity.
And, hell, it wouldn't be hard to pick up a scent in this place. There weren't any others to hide it.
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Vitenka
Lone Wolf
Tiger in Disguise.
Posts: 21
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Whut?
Aug 3, 2006 3:02:20 GMT -5
Post by Vitenka on Aug 3, 2006 3:02:20 GMT -5
"Can't say I know the correct way to go myself. It would just be better if we, you know, randomly chose a direction in which to go. Either way chances are we'll run into something or someone," Vitenka would assure a second time, making sure he didn't promise the wolf anything. Last time he had witnessed Tor frustrated was when he was upset over the fact he hadn't been granted the paradise that had been spoken of. And, if anything, the last thing he wanted to do was get this beast angry. Sure Vitenka was fast, though he had never used as an escape method for potential anger-prone, juggernaught hybrids. At least, he assumed Tor was one of mixed lineage.
He had seen standard wolves before as 'they' had deployed a small band of females in his territory. The humans had hopes that he would successfully mate, bringing around yet another generation of, hopefully, non-deformed pups. Unfortunately most of the multitude of individuals would successfully elude him as they would their place elsewhere, non-mated to the terror known as Vitenka. But there was always one, one who would defy the rest. A tawny, rebellious female in whom Vitenka would be allowed to name Chowder (the humans did not decide to name her with any real name, as her type was too common. She did have a number, however, which Vitenka would recall as Number Sixty). It would be a year before any further advances were taken when they would be considered 'true' mates. They, the couple of insane-driven monstrosity and confusion, would produce no litters. The subject had simply never been brought up.
Vitenka did not miss her. Yes, perhaps in the long run it would lead to despair and a second death to him if such a feat was possible. But why spoil the fun now though you were having a perfectly fine time being, uh, dead? Why worry on a past mate when you actually had some adventure, some hidden mission to accomplish? The hybrid actually had some purpose to his life now, no matter what sorry excuse of a language came out of Tor's mouth. He was opinionated and was at the most to be taken with a grain of salt.
"If you so wish to call me by a nickname which is easier for you by all means do so," Vitenka would concede. At length Vitenka wouldn't be able to stand being called 'wolf' as if it had been labeled as his real name. It had already started raking on his nerves even if it was understandable that he had come and deceased in far-away lands, it still was no excuse of treating him with an anonymous calling. 'Vitt' was fine, he could live with that, but any other neutered dubbance could simply not do.
Moving onto another subject that Tor had spoke of, Vitenka would let loose a low chuckle. "And no offense taken, Tor. You don't have to explain yourself further of... Disliking foreign wolves. And when you find your brother, Dagstae, I will most certainly depart. I'm sure, if this world is any larger than my previous one, we will not meet again. That is by some coincedence alone we do, all differences aside, I hope we do meet in a civil manner."
Not like he was going so far as to say they were friends. He had merely voiced that despite their short time together Vitenka had grew progressively fond of the wolf, if not only slightly. He had not faced the emotion of fondness for ages, in turn becoming skiddish and curious to the strange and clouded feeling. Besides, Tor wasn't someone you'd like to meet cornered in a dark alleyway either. He was one of the few beasts that would literally scream power and not to be provoked. He had already proven to be driven mainly by a hot-headed temper, another weapon that could too turn on him. For the moment, though, Vitenka settled that he was simply not someone to be trifled with.
Aquiring yet another injury that concluded his first life didn't seem too appealing, either.
With the seeming last of the details wrapped up the stilt-legged wolf would turn to the direction that he had been eyeing previously to their meeting. It was obviously not at all far, long legs maneuvering quickly over the foliage and accumulated leaves Vitenka stopped at the desired spot, gesturing slightly in the direction in which they would go before dissappearing into the thicker brush. At this moment he wouldn't be surprised that Tor went another way more suited to his liking, leaving him. But he was simply too lazy to tread the harder path, what made him so worthy of paradise that he wished for?
Subconciously Vitenka was concerned about the... Lack of life and smells in the general area. It had, so far, been devoid of any other life with the exception for Tor and himself. If deep descriptions ran deep in wolves this one would describe it as 'newly created', the Gods leaving it to be re-populated naturally as creatures from neighboring areas gradually made their way through. Noticing such a thing sent a chill up the spine multiple times.
"Tor?" he called, looking over his 'good' shoulder, wondering if the beast was following him.
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Aug 4, 2006 4:32:54 GMT -5
Post by Memoru on Aug 4, 2006 4:32:54 GMT -5
"A nickname, aye? That'd be mighty helpful,"Tor bobbed his head,"But I don't quite...remember what you said yer name was. Don't got the right mind for remembering flowery things like that,"he gave a gruff snort,"I like my names to be short 'n simple." Like Tor. Tor was short and simple. None of this 'pretty it up' stuff wolves seemed to bother with now-a-days. All of his cubs would be named things like, oh, Cub one, Cub two, Cub three...perhaps a Dag thrown in for good luck...if he could have cubs in this wretched place.
Fuck. What if they couldn't? What if they were barren? Why the bloody hell did it even fucking matter!? He'd died on earth without ever leaving his bloodline behind. Tor's teeth clenched and he let out a low snarl. A wolf of his status should have had hoards of strong, male cubs. Armies of them! To raise and teach and to lead into battle, as any father should. Strong males to watch become alphas of their own packs, leaders of their own crusades. And he would never get to see that. His bloodline was cut. Ruined. Ended. And even Dagstae was dead, without offspring. There would be nothing for them. Nothing to remember them by. They'd be completely forgotten, come two more generations. Tor and Dagstae, two of the pack's most valued and vigilant fighters, lost to death, time, and memory. And he didn't even get the heaven he was promised.
Tor threw back his head and howled, a deep and painful song that crawled out of the very bowels of his voice. The vicious melody was cut short as he snapped his head away, slashing at the ground. A spray of dirt took wing, falling like ugly, brown rain against the leaves of the shorter brush. He snarled beneath his breath, hackles raised, breathing hard.
Stop, stop. Dagstae would be calming him down right now. Telling him he was foolish for acting like this, not even telling poor Vitenka what'd flew up his bonnet.
No. No he wouldn't Dagstae would be just as angry, just as upset. Dagstae would have wanted to be remembered. They'd both be snarl, at nerves end, just thinking about that. Fuck. Why hadn't he thought about that before? Coming into terms with your own death wasn't easy, especially when you were still breathing. But he still had to relax. Still had to make himself calm down. Vitenka'd run off if he kept this up. Poor bloke wouldn't want an angry dire-hybrid on his paws, he'd be scared shitless. Hell, Tor wouldn't want to be around an angry wolf twice his size...might lose something vital.
Vitenka's call jerked him out of his thoughts.
"Yeah, I'm comin', hold yer fookin' horses,"barked Tor. He snapped his head up in time to watch with widened eyes as Vitenka, a scrawny little skeleton of a wolf, chose a rougher path than what was laid before them. All those bushes and brambles growing thick and wild between the trees. Could he even get through them? But he did. Tor hadn't even thought of him being able to step over the underbrush with those long, lanky legs of his. He shrugged, rolling back hard, wolfish shoulders, and trotted after him. His descent into the foliage was not nearly so nimble as Vitenka's. Tor wasted no time in going over or around, but forced his thick body through the bushes. It took little effort on his part, twigs and leaves weren't hard to move. Tor had traveled through worse.
Tor stepped up beside Vitenka, visibly relaxed and not thinking about it. He no longer bothered worrying about the well-kept distance they had had been them. They were traveling together now, wolves had to stick close in situations such as they. Attacks could come from any angle, and it was your job, the partner, to watch the other's back. That's the way Tor worked. Think about something else the wolf had said. Anything. Distract yourself.
Ah, yes. Meeting again. Tor grinned a little as he fell in place beside the smaller male, here was something he didn't mind chatting about.
"It's always good to have alliances, aye? Even if they're not on the same side o' the war." It may have sounded strange, but it was true. Tor knew, perhaps not firsthand, but from the many veterans of his packs crusades. The stories of valiant young alphas offering mercy to a foreign villain, later to be given the same favor in turn moons later. Of course, not all those stories were true. Tor had heard some damn right outrageous tales before, but that didn't stop the fact from being fact. It'd be mighty handy to have friends on the other side, whatever that may be.
"What sort'a wolf are you, anyway? Ain't never seen the likes 'o ye before," he flicked his ears back, arching the furred ruffs of skin above his eyes, serving as wolf-ish brows,"And I've face plenty a queer lookin' folk before. Queerer'n ye, some of 'em." It may have been a difficult journey, but Tor had made it to the pits of Africa before. His pack had not stayed long, not wishing to be in these strange, scorching lands, but the alpha had said he'd seen many vial creatures here, needing to be vanquished, so thats' where they went.
Tor would never forget those tiny canines, long legged with ears like rats, and pelts like calico kittypets. Worthless lot they were, yipping and yowling like pups. And even worse, those manes creatures with their faces like hogs, ears just as rotten and rank as the others. Slanted, deformed creatures, they were, with nothing for a tail and a horrible stink about them. Run by females even.
The alpha had been more than correct. Those could not be chosen races. They had to be exterminated. But the crusade in Africa did not last long. Homesickness coupled with the larger, dangerous predators of the plains (felines!) had driven Tor and the pack home. They'd done what they could.
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Vitenka
Lone Wolf
Tiger in Disguise.
Posts: 21
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Whut?
Aug 5, 2006 2:12:13 GMT -5
Post by Vitenka on Aug 5, 2006 2:12:13 GMT -5
Vitenka considered it. Actually, he had no idea what he was. A wolf, yes, but that was as general as one got. He was certainly not a dog even though people had mistaken him as such, a tall skinny legged dog with three legs. Most people, the stupid hairy ones who gazed at him like he was some sort of freak sideshow (not like he knew about sideshows either, but he pretended that he did. Vitenka had heard the humans that spoke in accents and wore white coats speak of them) never considered the ears. Or abnormal legs. Or anything for that matter! In fact he would later go on only to reminded of the fact now from Tor that he had blamed the odd, fleshy beasts of not finding out what his true species was... If he was anything at all. Since his creation he had never laid eyes on any wolf exactly like him apart from Xyvtahk, a wolf whom he had grown to both love and hate. He was the only one who shared his markings. The legs, the face... Well, maybe the face was a bit different. Vitenka had looked at him with a thinner face than he.
It had never occured to him that they were, in fact, hybrids. A mix between two parents that would never be in the wild, a creation of perverse human curiousity. He had been too young, too blind to ever think about such strange things. As it would be he would soon look upon all wolves as created in a lab in the middle of nowhere, self contained in a small pen until they grew too big only to ship them somewhere larger in the meantime. Vitenka thought that his lifespan was too short to be transferred off into gradually bigger containment facilities until the sense of false freedom dawned on him. Though he had never exactly reached that milestone as his life had ended too quickly, he did reach the metal gate of his territory several times before in his pointless journeys. During one oppurtunitiy he had measured the radius of the square counted it in days. It took him one full day - one sun and one moon - to travel one segment of fence. In short, four days. Of course this too was doubled with the trouble of catching prey, taking regular naps inbetween, et cetera.
Despite this, Vitenka would have it no other way. In his definition that was all there to life. No cities, no tundra, no deserts. Humans and prey only to serve their destiny and be inevitably brought down by the top creature in the food chain existed. And, like any other animal, he killed. Tortured, too, as he believed it was the only proper thing to do with the enemy before executing them. The neglect of true parents, though he had spoken to his father on seldom meetings along the fence, had twisted him. It was only hard to tell now as he was coupled with a wolf whom was bigger than he, ready at a moment's notice to turn on him. With a sigh and a shake of his head, he knew the description in which he was ready to tell Tor would be a poor one.
"I couldn't tell you that," he would reside to saying, hanging his head momentarily for a bit of dramatic effect. "I met someone a long time ago that claimed to be my father. He spoke in a different accent than I and seemed shorter legged. He was quite the dumb one as well. I would always doubt it until a pool of water would show me what I really did look like. Stupidest thing, too, because I never knew I had three legs until I was adult and realized all those stares I received from the others weren't for nothing. It was a year before I got the chance to inquire for him only to find out he had passed on long before I could address him properly, Hugo I think his name was, that my face did look like his."
Another sigh and from on his part. He had never spoken on formal terms about his father before especially to someone who out of the blue asked him what the hell he was. It was no use to moan and carry on about such a subject. Tor was bound to stop him any time with his story, laughing, screaming to the heavens that it was the most ridiculous story he had ever heard in his (albeit shortened) life.
"As for the rest of me, I have no idea. It's unimportant, anyway. But you'd be surprised how many things have asked the same thing."
Now, names. It had only been ten minutes at the most and Tor had already forgotten what his name was? If Vitenka had hands he would've smacked his forehead and grumbled irritably. But seeing that he didn't, well, he settled for a sideways glance. The whole idea of names escaping this giant, muscular creature who at first seemed full of intelligence had dissapated completely after the beginning comment had come and gone. It would've left Vitenka nearly slack jawed if it wasn't for moving immediately onto a different area in search for this Dagstae. The Russian would return to it as the dubbance of 'wolf', again (though appropriate), could not be swallowed time and time again. With a stiff expression he would speak.
"For further reference it is Vitenka. I've been called Vitt before, if that is any more simple and... Less flowery," he emphasized, the word leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. Another unfamiliar word. Though not as strange as 'queer' Vitenka would seem to pronounce this word with little difficulty give or take the added 'v' that would force to make it sound as 'flowervy'. Oh, well. He hoped, wished, Tor would get the point. "Or, uhm. 'V', if you like. That, I'm afraid, is as easy as it comes. Never been called by that before, I do have to admit. But better than 'wolf', eh? No offence to you, of course. Remembering my name is quite a feat within itself, so I never do expect anyone to remember by memory the first time around."
Right.
But this speak of war confused him. Technically, yes, he was a foreigner. But since there might too be some local pack or group that they have eluded to see or scent, wouldn't that automatically make Tor a foreigner as well? The thought was not to go without it's problems. Was Tor still perpetually stuck inside the borders of his own fantasy land, playing out scenarios in the only way he knew best? For all Vitenka knew he was. Even still being granted an alliance with some wolf devout to the standings on the loose term of foreigner was a rare and seldom given gift. So, holding his tongue and letting someone else speak actually did some good this time? Vitenka was momentarily proud of cracking this odd, randomly-howling and strange-talking animal's trust.
Vitenka thought of speaking up again. Dagstae seemed no where. Since their embark accross the leaf-strewn surface he had not once picked up a legitimate scent of another beast. It led him to think that Tor's brother could be miles away or ended up somewhere else, a different land that was reserved for siblings. That way there was no chance of two meeting up with one another again. The absence of Xyvtahk would also explain that as they only died a short distance away from each other. Why hadn't they killed each other a second time? Vitenka knew he would do it again and once more if nesscessary. Vitenka would fight his brother to the deepest level of Hell if he had to. But there was no sign of his enemy, his justice-fighting rival.
OoC; Just found out that I'm not going to be absent for three days afterall. And these posts just keep getting bigger and bigger. Oh noez! XD I'll be writing novels by the end if we keep mirror-posting like this. *snort*
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Whut?
Aug 11, 2006 5:27:03 GMT -5
Post by Memoru on Aug 11, 2006 5:27:03 GMT -5
"Y'never knew ye had three legs?" Tor fused his jaw together to keep from gaping,"Ye never knew yer father?" A nervous chuckle escaped his maw and he trotted a little faster to keep his gaze from locking onto Vitenka,"Those 'er two things I think I'd notice right off." Of course, Tor had grown up with his father, and his brother, at his side. He'd always known them. It was hard for him to imagine a life in which they did not exist. His father had died, of course, a good honorable death, fighting in the name of their alpha to protect the pack and the True wolves. But in both death and life, he'd had a heavy impact on Tor's life. How could he not? He was his father.
How could one grow up to not know of their father? To barely remember the name or face of their sire?
Tor suppressed a shiver at the thought,"Yer one mighty odd wolf." He couldn't really think of anything else to say to that. He shook the uneasy musings from his head and slowed his pace until he was back at Vitenka's side,"Aye, I've no wonders about other's askin' these sorts of questions." Tor himself had been asked what -he- was by foreign wolves, as if they couldn't recognize a True wolf of proper lineage. They'd gotten their answers. Oh yes, they did. And that was the last thing any of them ever came to know.
Tor had killed a great many wolves in his time. There were probably a great many more that would thoroughly enjoy his demise. They would be glad to learn of his death. Not that they would, of course, Tor's pack did not make conversation with other wolves.
"It's a queer name,"Tor wrinkled his nose,"I ain't used to things like that. Hard to pronounce, don't much bother to keep 'em in mind. So Vitt it is." Still rather, well, perhaps not flowery, but something about it did not sit well on his tongue. It was better than calling him wolf. That could get confusing if they happened across a stranger.
Although, Tor himself was not entirely convinced Vitenka -was- a wolf. Not a True wolf, certainly. Perhaps he had some strange unwolfish gene in him, cursing him with those long, lanky legs and scrawny build. Why, Tor had never seen the likes of that before, not even on a female. Even females had some muscle on 'em, some meat to their bones. Tor could snap this poor fellows remaining legs right off...if he could catch him. Long legs often meant a faster pace, Tor had learned. But what did three long legs mean? Tor shook his head. No sense worrying about it now. He wasn't planning to chase Vitenka through brush and bramble any time soon.
"So ye don't have much of a father, aye?" thoughts of such a distant family plagued his mind, it was hard to force himself to think of other things. So he gave in. "What about a mother? Litter mates? It's bloody hard not to have spent some time with them." Although Tor and his brother had never been fawned over as pups, they had good memories of their mother. She had been kind and soft, a pretty female who their father doted upon and cherished. She, like their father, had died many moons ago, during a harsh winter that left them without much food and little warmth. Many a wolf had starved that year, and there were no pups come spring. It was a bitter memory.
Perhaps both mother and father were also here, in this strange land. Perhaps Dagstae had already found the ancestors of their pack. Ah, now that was a pleasant thought. Tor's tail gave a brief wag, and he grinned a little with his strides.
[OoC: I apologize for not mirror-posting. Trying to get the length of our replies back to a sensible size X3 I can go back and make my post longer if you'd like.]
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Vitenka
Lone Wolf
Tiger in Disguise.
Posts: 21
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Whut?
Aug 12, 2006 2:23:36 GMT -5
Post by Vitenka on Aug 12, 2006 2:23:36 GMT -5
Vitenka had gotten used to the odd questions as it were. More had been flown at him through his long pause of silence especially regarding his family. Granted it was and had always been a sensitive subject as his brother had been the individual who had cursed him to this place in the first place. Could he simply tell this giant beast what had forced him here? He seemed so dedicated to family as his previous speakings about this Dagstae had told. What would Tor think of him if he told the story of his demise? Of course it was always a possibility to twist and manipulate the story to his liking. Vitenka could simply make it sound like it was his brother who turned on him... Reverse roles. He would wait for the inevitable question, however, instead of rushing into the subject. Another question was at hand!
He thought. Did he remember anything of his mother? No. No immediate memories came to mind. Ears drooping slightly he would shake his head.
"I had a brother," Vitenka replied with a heaving sigh. "I don't think I ever met my mother. My father never told me of her, actually. Well, I do think he mentioned something of a female that he would take as his own. He described her as a gangly, homely thing. And if that really was the accurate image of my secondary parent I don't think I would've wanted to meet her. As for my brother... I don't have many clear memories of him. We were seperated at birth, I believe, but we met again as adults. Not a very... Social meeting to say the least, but at least we met before I died."
No doubt the Russian's response would too kindle yet even more burning questions within the larger individual. Recalling upon past events had never been Vitenka's strong point. He was a simple wolf, a simple wolf that usually cared not to be bothered by past events. It was only his natural bad luck that could send him a damnably inquisitive wolf. Even this world was trying to foil him.
For the time being Vitenka ignored Tor's senseless babble about names again. He refused to go back on that subject yet again. Frankly, he had been ready to succumb to the idea of the larger calling him 'wolf' and leaving it at that. Of course it would be hard to pronounce! They were quite obviously from different backgrounds... They wouldn't connect on everything. Namely on the idea of names. Ugh.
"I don't think I ever had much of a family. My puphood was rather clouded to tell you the truth, Tor, so most of the information I give you in that sense is quite bleak indeed. It was my adolecence to adulthood that I raised myself without a," he paused, struggling to find the word, "... Pack." That was it. He had heard the humans speak of them on one or two occaisions mixed with their equally confusing jumble of eloquent dialect. They had watched him from afar, wondering why he hadn't joined one yet. Joined? Vitenka joined nothing, especially if it was something of yet another human-made object! It was a rough translation. Vitenka only hoped that he had pronounced it correctly as to save Tor laughing or asking him yet another question.
"So, Tor, tell me more about this Dagstae of yours. You speak fond of him so I've heard. I've been wondering, what did you two both do together before, uhm, coming to this place?" He would inquire, thinking it was his correct time to speak up with a prodding question. Of course Vitenka was still indifferent about the idea of his brother even actually being in this realm rather than a seperate made for siblings. Who couldn't? This world seemed so much more... Vast than his previous one. What could anyone possibly do in this dimension being so large? He was... Free? What was this 'free'? Was it a feeling, an emotion? He had heard Xyvtahk speak of it before ripping into his flesh, tearing the loosened, bloody skin flawlessly from his neck.
Why did he do it? Freedom aside, Vitenka had promised him everything! They were made of the same genes, were they not? They could have ruled the forest together, wreaking havoc on all living things! They could have moved mountains... Side by side. As friend and sibling.
OoC; Oh, it's okay! I don't think I can take writing that much any more. XD *snort*
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Whut?
Aug 21, 2006 2:33:26 GMT -5
Post by moonfox210 on Aug 21, 2006 2:33:26 GMT -5
A limp and unconscious figure appeared in the middle of the terrain. Thick dusty gold fur with dappled black coat might have allowed it to blend into the ground had it not been for the obvious bulk and size of the creature. Then a brown paw twitched and pale blue eyes flickered open to stare at the rotated view of the plains, its long grass flowing in waves as the wind caressed the ground..
Dagstae awoke, feeling a numbing pain in the muscles on his side. Gritting his teeth, he climbed a little shakily to his paws and glanced around. The pain... hardly pain really, more like aching numbness. He tilted his head to the side to sniff at his bruises. The wounds he received covered his body, but already and blood had coagulated 'and scabbed over. He knew that. This pain would be temporary. It would not deter him from his path.
Wait... where was his brother? Where were the others. Instead of the bloody war-torn battlefields he had expected to find, he was alone in the plains. A calm cooling breeze rippled over the grassy lands, but his heart was all but calm. Tor... where was Tor?!
"Tor?!"
He called out, his voice harsh and loud with a slight streak of panic in his deep reverberating tone. He limped forward before pausing to test his paws again. Still a dumb numbing ache... but he was battle-seasoned enough to know it was nothing major. He started forward, ignoring the strain he felt in his muscles and chest. He had sprained a few muscles there, and perhaps twisted a ligament.
Only temporary Dag, the pain will make you stronger...
His father's words came back to him. If anyone had hurt his brother... His anger fueled him forward in an almost-normal run as he kept calling out Tor's name. As he ran, he felt a familiar scent drift in the wind up ahead. Tor?! Immense relief flooded his spirit before his mind announced the presence of another unfamiliar stranger. Who could it be? As he ran to meet them, his mind searched his memory desperately. It was no one from their pack. He had already surmised that as he came upon the two, panting and masking his face from the pain he felt in one paw.
ooc: I doubt I can! I'm already struggling a little with some 'study-stuff'
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