Pack Information & Updates

“Come now sweetie. Can’t you stay for just a minute?” That voice. It was enough to send anyone into a state of euphoria. And even at your mind’s high somewhere deep inside you, you know something is wrong. But you can’t think straight, and everything seems to fall into place just perfectly. Your very actions are influenced from that certain voice. The way each syllable seems to curl around your own breath, mingling until it parts once more. At the time it always seems impossible that the one who you love always ends up hurting you the most. “We have some catching up to do.” Again that voice shot through the inky darkness. Blinded by all the lies. Bound to the fantasy that this was all a dream. Thunder rolled across the land somewhere in the distance, but she was deaf to the sound. She was like a puppet; unable to think or feel for herself, relying on the puppeteer to guide her through the show. “So tell me what you’ve been up to these days. I haven’t seen you around these parts for a while now. /Something/ interesting must have happened in that time. What made you come back?” A devilish grin wiped across the male’s face, jade eyes glinting maliciously. Something was hidden within those eyes, a sign of what was to come. Yet even if this sign was any clearer, she would have denied it. It couldn’t be love, what she was feeling. Love was a connection between two beings, a bond that was held intact by the trust that is built between the two. There was no trust between these two only a gruesome past that was so often hidden, masked by years of deceit. Some would look upon them and think only of their exterior, but fail to see inside them. Each and everyone of their desires, hopes, secrets lay hidden beneath a twisted reality. Lies..pain..tears. There was nothing the two couldn’t hide. Once upon a time they could have been found frolicking in the water, nipping at the small, curling waves, buried up to their ankles in sand. But for each friendship there comes a time when they reach a fork in the road and a decision must me made between what is wrong, and what is right. It may always be clear which path to take, and there could be dire consequences to the decision that is made. “You must have come back to see me.” The words were sinister but at the same time certain pleasure was held within. A shiver ran down the female’s spine each time she stole a glance at him. He took this opportunity to snake his body towards hers, head curling around her neck. Muzzle was positioned close to her ears as a soft whisper tickled the furry inside. “You can’t deny you love me.” Love. The biggest four letter word. It could mean so little, or for some it could mean the world. But just how far is one willing to go for love? Would they give up their own freedom, their own life for something that came with no guarantees? Could one be so desperate for the touch of another that they would sell their soul to know that they could run to someone? It was possible to forfeit all your morals for that simple four letter word. And yet, as the female found the male curled dominantly around her, something shifted in her thoughts. A change for the better perhaps, or maybe the beginning of the end. “I don’t fucking need you.” Each word was spat onto the ground before her, syllables laced with poison. All her body weight was thrust against the male, causing him to fall to the ground. Low snarls were released from his maw as mud splashed against his maw. Heavy rainfall pattered against the rocky ledge creating small streams of water in the cracked rock. Recovering from the fall, the male stood, taking a step towards the vixen. Black lips were curled back into an ugly sneer while his white coat was now mud splattered. Rain dripped heavily off of both of the wolves’ fur, each and every bone of the females clearly visible. “You’d be dead without me Kie. If I hadn’t found you, you’d be lying in a pool of blood right now.” Irritation was clearly evident in the brutes tone. There came no response from the female, only the vicious snarl that now pierced through the sheets of rain. As the male before her advanced, the petite femora could only stumble backwards towards the edge of the cliff. “You know, you never did tell me why you came back. When I found you, I remember you distinctively saying that you were never coming back. So tell me Kie, what is this all about? What’s the big secret that you won’t tell me?” There was no where left to go. The short distance from where she had been standing to the edge of the cliff was now upon her. Any further and soon she would find herself careening off the edge. Head turned slightly to glance at what awaited her if she just so happened to fall. Unfortunately there was no way of telling for the rain made it near impossible. Amber gaze shifted back to the male who was now mere inches from her. His eyes seemed to shine with hate. It was a gaze she had never before received from him. “Over my dead body Kreo.” At the sound of her words, Kreo lunged forward at her. A devilish smirk could be seen plastered on the females face as her limbs shuffled her body to the side. Amber gaze shut tightly as a sickening scream filled the dark void. And then, just as suddenly as it had happened, it was over. Without even turning her miniscule body, the female spoke under her breath. “I came back to finish what was started long ago.” Ever since she had awoken a few hours ago, the same dream had been haunting her mind. It was a far off memory, but with each minute it seemed to become clearer. Some say that you should forgive and forget, but how could she forgive if she was unable to forget? Ever since she had stumbled upon this hellhole of a place that night had plagued her every thought. With each step that she took forward, a new thought came back to her. A different detail of something she had forgotten. It seemed as though the blood of her victims had washed that night away. Ground into the dirt along with so many wolves’ lives. But now the stains that had concealed the death were slowly chipping away, revealing the one memory that hurt the most. A soft sigh escaped a pair of blackened lips as the small female trudged forward, keeping her good eye alert for any danger. All around her the sounds of spring erupted. A quiet call of a baby bird calling for its mother and the louder calls of the baby mammals. The day was still early, with light creeping up over the horizon. Night had come and gone, and with it the beauty of the darkness was lost. In its place was dawn, clutching at the atmosphere with its spindly fingers. Slowly the sky was lit by the magnificent colors that the sunrise produced. With the red, orange, pink, and purple hues, it was a simple serenity. It was pure bliss; being by the spring with no one around. Not many were awake to disturb the thoughts of the female who now stared aimlessly at the water. Every now and then she would pause to glance up at the sunrise; bathing in its beauty. It truly was a magnificent sight, the only disturbances in the painting being the tips of the mountains that skimmed the bottom of the watercolor. In a way the peaks added to the overall beauty of the picture, creating contrast in the vibrant sunrise. It wasn’t until the female caught her reflection in the water that a low growl pierced through the silence. Her eyes were dull, having lost the spark in them long ago, and her vision was limited due to her blind eye. However, since her accident she had learned to cope with her eye. And now it was only in the darkness that she had difficulties. In these times the wolf relied on her other senses. Despite her maimed eye, the wolf looked pretty much the same as she had for as long as she could remember. Mottled fur still covered her body, and she was as skinny as ever. Since coming to the lands in which she now resided the negative thoughts hadn’t once perturbed her, so it was unknown why they had resurfaced now. A low growl resonated across the area as Kiora smacked one forepaw against the surface of the water. Instantly the calm was shattered and her reflection was broken up by the growing ripples. For only a moment longer Kiora stared hard at the surface, cursing her own reflection under her breath.

ooc| Okay, so I totally stole your whole memories idea. I hope you don't mind. It give me some muse to write this. xD; Anyway, credit goes to you, haha! bic| It was not so much that he refused to give into sleep; it was simply that the tranquil state of unconsciousness refused to have him on this particular night. It would not overcome him; it would not hold him in its calm, welcoming grasp and allow him, for a moment, to forget life and to drift away. Of course, by no means would he ever honestly admit to anyone that sleep would be an escape for him – hardly. Terrore Elusivo, after all, was the cold, unfeeling Alpha Male of Chaotic Tranquility who needed no pause from the rush of life, who needed no breaks to collect himself. He felt little; his eyes shone with that very emotion. And so it was true that the unfeeling visage of his led one to the heart of his personality. However, though it appeared this way and though he would certainly be sure to enforce it, this did not mean he did not desire an escape as so many other wolves did. His past came back to him often, full throttle, sparing no minds or hearts. It would attack him, drive him to the point where any normal wolf might’ve been begging for mercy. Perhaps, if these scenes had played before the male’s eyes when he was but a young creature, he might’ve done just that. He might’ve eat least called out, pleading help from the surrounding forest, hoping to call forward another creature to charge to assistance. He would’ve fought, yes, for he had always been a rather stubborn wolf throughout his upbringing, but he would’ve have been entirely against the idea of assistance; better that than to find himself dead. Now, however, he would never scream, never reveal any shard of weakness, for that would indicate something about him which he would by no means allow. Terrore had no weakness; he would refuse to even consider the possibility and, beyond that, absolutely halt an suspicion in any other wolf that he possessed the flaw of weaknesses. Tonight, however, it was difficult to remain as invulnerable as usual, for thoughts were chasing each around in his mind and he couldn’t seem to shake them. They had lessened over the course of the many, many months since had vanished from his old home, but now he was having one of these rare so-called ‘episodes,’ a time when he was reminded of the past he had torn himself away from – and with pleasure, mind…at least, by the end. But when he had run, it had not been pleasurable at all; when he had escaped, he had been throwing his life away, the life he had once assumed he would forever lead. A part of him wondered what his father had said when the wolves had chased him away; had he acted mortified? Had he falsely accused him of something? Had he acted as if something had killed him, sadly, and oh, poor, dear, father, he would be forced to remain as the Alpha Male of the pack? A sneer crept upon his muzzle as his thoughts turned to Torrere; he had defended that good-for-nothing bastard. He had defended him. Those reasons lay long forgotten in his memory, the reasons for suspecting that the male could ever have been good to him. All those times he had mentioned he was ‘just busy’ or that he cared about them but he ‘just couldn’t right now’ – Terorre Elusivo had been a complete idiot then, ignorant to the ways of his wolven counterparts. He would not make the same mistake again. However, scenes flashed back to him and he was flooded with memories and dialogue, as if they might’ve been taking place right then. “I wish to challenge you, Ebony,” he called out to the male who had been sitting within his den. The Alpha, Terrore’s father, emerged, his eyes narrowed. His tail lashed out behind him just as his son’s did, but the smaller male could’ve sworn he saw a sense of nervousness lurking in his eyes. That wasn’t like his father, and so he dismissed it, but perhaps the male was scared. He ought to be, really. Terrore Elusivo was prepared to do everything in his power to claim the spot of Alphen within this pack; his father could never play that damn sympathy card on him. Not a chance. “I wish to challenge you for these lands we both reside on; I wish to challenge you in the name of this pack; I wish to challenge you for the rank of Alpha you hold so dearly.” These words were recognized within the pack, for they were the routine speech of any that wished to reign over the lands. Other wolves had come forward, gathered around, and watched closely; some of them nodded, having suspected this time would come. Others were shocked, for rarely was there a direct facedown between father and son. But Terrore had eyes only for his father, did not pay a single moment of his attention to the gathering crowd. Ebony never once spoke – he saw his son, saw there was no backing down, and lunged at him. Perhaps he had hoped to overpower him with force, but clearly Terrore Elusivo had been prepared for this; together they fought – hard. In the end, however, it was the son who came out on time, the son whose teeth lingered at the Alpha’s throat until the other was forced to surrender. It was he who stood, triumphantly, his tail raised high behind him and his head in the manner that suggested he might’ve had a crown; indeed, in many ways, it was far better than that. He had gained the right of the pack’s Alpha; he had become their ruler and he had won this ‘fair and square,’ as they say. He watched as his father turned away, not even pausing to give him a second glance. For a moment, the flash of anger in his eyes betrayed the swooping feeling in his stomach, but he passed it off hastily; it hardly mattered what his father did or said now. He had just defeated him and he would now be Alpha over the pack he had been born and raised in. Or so he thought. But the flash of white teeth that had arrived to greet him that night suggested something else. He woke from his sleep to the snarls of wolves; they slid toward him, crouched down, issuing threatening barks. Terrore had no time to react; he lunged at them, with their malevolent, yellow eyes, their cruel, crude words. But as soon as he had reached the chill of the night air, he knew there were far too many: five. For a moment, a pair of amber eyes met his and he recognized a member of the pack, he was sure. The male was clearly meant to be the leader, but for a moment he hesitated and Elusivo was sure he saw a trace of remorse. Terrore seized his chance, right then and there, knowing he would not get another. He turned and ran, as fast as he could and as far as he could. His paws pounded beneath him and the wind rushed through his ears but he refused to stop. After a long while their pawsteps faded and, even longer than that, he at last allowed himself to pause, panting, hardly able to stand from exhaustion. His father had done this. Right then, he knew he should’ve murdered that bastard. He shook the scenes hastily away, as one might shake away drops of water clinging to one’s pelt. He had relinquished his mind to these memories for long enough, somewhere between waking and sleeping. He had been unable to control them and yet he knew he had not been fully unconscious, either. Furious with himself for being corrupted by this startling weakness, he rose to his paws and trotted down toward the area where the water resided. Before he could make his way forward, however, he caught sight of another wolf nearby; instantly, his wariness overtook him and his hackles rose, slightly. The memories that had flooded him and his own innate distrusting caused the hostility to rise, but almost instantly they lowered and his aggression disappeared. It was his Beta, of course, the one wolf who he actually trusted around here; perhaps he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep tonight. The male padded toward her until he was beside her, leaning forward and lapping some of the water; the crystalline liquid slid down his throat in a manner that could only be remarked as refreshed. “It seems I am not the only on who’s unable to sleep tonight,” he murmured simply, nodding his head in a greeting toward the female as well as a sort of gesture of respect. He did respect her; he had to if she had claimed the rank of his Beta, after all. He would not pry into her life or why she was awake – it was her choice whether she told him of this or not. Never had he been an instinctively nosey wolf and he wasn’t about to begin such a habit now. His voice, as cold and unfeeling as ever, perhaps did not imply that he cared; however, he did, even if he rarely chose to show it. After all, she was a strong wolf, a wolf with whom his loyalty lay: his Beta.

If you had been given the chance to redo any part of your life, or go on living the way you had been; what would you choose? To redo certain areas of your life would be to change your past, present, and your future. Doing so would also conflict with others lives. And what if they wished for their life to remain the same? What if they were content with everything they had done? It would be unfair to rip that away from someone. Cruel was the very least that it was to tear away someone’s freedom of choice. But then again, if you had committed a crime so vile that conflicted with your whole life, why wouldn’t you want to change that? Should you be forced to live with the guilt of murder, or perhaps torture? Was it fate that everyone had a fatal flaw to their lives, or were people so imperfect that each one regrets something? Fate. One word that meant so very little, yet at the same time was the one of the most important things. Was it fate that at some time in life, every wolf stops? But why does one stop? For some, it is hunger and others it is love. For some still it is to feel that they are living, or to bring death upon themselves. And yet still, for fewest of all it is exhaustion. They refuse to stop unless they have too, unless one more step would, and often times did, send them crashing to the ground. They wouldn’t stop until their very heart stopped beating; until all blood ceased to flow. Some were only living because that is what they were put on this earth to do. Consume the air that was around them. Put a fake smile on and prance through their days, oblivious to the dangers all around them. Weakness, fatigue, danger, fright, adventure. Everything experienced at least one of these things in their lifetime and sometimes it is too overpowering to handle. Their bodies give way, and they find themselves crashing to the ground. In time all living creatures faced the same fate. Death. But for some, death came sooner than expected. In the end, even the innocent suffer the cruelest death, as unjust as it may have seemed. Despite the darkened thoughts that lurked quietly in her restless mind, Kiora was feeling herself slipping into sleep. Te air around her was cool and without the mugginess that the day would bring. A gentle lapping from the small waves caressed her ears, soothing her agitated mind. In time the thoughts that swam through her head would cease to exist and for a time all would be peaceful. But eventually they would return to taunt her, sending her into a frenzied state that was harmful to herself and those around her. There was a sharp noise behind her and Kiora jerked to her feet, gazing intensely through the sheet of darkness. Though the light was limited, she was able to spot a shape ahead of her. A puzzled look crossed her face, but soon washed into an annoyed frown as the air around her grew tense. Though as soon as the feeling had washed over her, it abruptly ended. In a matter of moments the form of Terrore stood beside her. Before any words were spoken, the male bent his head low to the water and allowed the refreshing liquid to slide down his throat. Until that point Kiora had ignored the desire to drink from the spring, and still she refrained from getting to close to the male. Terrore had a temperament that was hard to calculate, and when angered there was no one who could stand in his way. Though the small female was perfectly able to take care of herself, she was in no mood to put up with a pissy Alpha. Besides, he was the one wolf in the region whom she had placed her loyalties with. When first arriving here, the scent of many wolves had grabbed her attention. Though despite the temptations, Chaotic Tranquility had been the one to grab her interest. Since the first day she placed a foot into the mountains, she respected Terrore Elusivo. It wasn’t only the fact that he was her Alpha and demanded respect. No, though she would never admit it to herself or anyone there was something about him that she looked up to. The male had a certain air about him that the others didn’t seem to carry with them. And when Kiora had actually met Terrore, the feeling only intensified. The female was awoken from her thoughts when Terrore padded beside her and began to speak. “It seems I am not the only on who’s unable to sleep tonight,” Kiora returned his statement with a simple nod of her head, both agreeing with him and acknowledging his presence. Indeed, she had found it hard to sleep before the arrival of company and now she was fully awake once more. Lowering herself onto her haunches, Kiora raked the soft ground with her claws. Small indentations were left in the sodden ground, leaving an impression of herself on the lands. ”It’s hard to sleep when memories keep you awake.” The lithe female paused and stepped forward towards the spring, unable to endure the taunting from the small waves. Bending her mouth close to the waters surface, Kiora lapped up a few mouthfuls of the refreshing liquid. As the water slid down her parched throat, Kiora closed her eyes in relaxation. After a moment of lingering by the waters edge, Kiora returned to her former position so she could resume her conversation with the alpha. ”But you shouldn’t be awake so late. You do have very important responsibilities you know.” A devious smirk flickered across her face as she spoke, both eyes locked onto the male’s own eyes.

Hehe. It's all good ^^ Yay for giving you muse!

This post has been edited by Kiora Aderes on Aug 8 2007, 09:35 PM

ooc| Yes, yay for that indeed! =P bic| Never once had Terrore Elusivo regretted allowing the female beside him to claim the land of Beta Female. He had given it to her with the knowledge that she would certainly do the pack justice – and so she had. She carried the rank well; she was loyal as well as being sure of herself. She could certainly handle herself in a battle of any sort, from what he had seen. Terrore knew that the sight had gone from one of her eyes, indeed, for it was rather apparent; while others might choose to think less of her for it, might even choose to underestimate her, he had done neither. Over his time of traveling, he had learned the valuable lesson that he must never in his entire life underestimate anyone, lest he wish to pay some dire consequence. In fact, after getting to know her better, after accepting into the pack and finally granting her the valuable rank of Beta Female, he couldn’t help but think more of her for it. It was true that sight wasn’t a wolf’s main sense, but nonetheless it was very important to them – if the Alpha Male had ever lost his, or impaired it in some way, it would certainly be a difficult life to trek through. She, however, maintained this personality, this assuredness, and that was something that he couldn’t help but respect; it was rare of Terrore Elusivo to respect something, no doubt, and so this was definitely a chance from the norm. However, if someone had earned it, as she had, it wasn’t as if he was opposed to it. Granting her the position of Beta posed very clearly just how much respect he held for her. The words she spoke next rang very true for him; perhaps they had both been experiencing memories, then. He knew nothing much of her past, as she knew little of his own. In a way, it was almost as if they were starting over, in a new land, one that wouldn’t force them both to consider the lives they had once led. And it was refreshing to lead a life absent of everything that had once driven him nearly insane in the last life he had led. The problem was simple: it was not another life. It was the same life and therefore the memories would often resurface, returning to haunt him once more. It could’ve been worse, he supposed, undoubtedly. He had never murdered anyone he loved – though, now, he wished he had – and he had never seen a loved one die at the paws of another. He had never endured the thing that so many wolves referred to as the greatest power of them all, that four letter word that he’d not truly encountered. The closest was the love he’d possessed for his family, but that had long since dissipated – that had dissipated the moment his mother had hastened away with his sister and brother, the mother she had left him with that god damn ‘father’ of his. But hadn’t he always defended his O So Loving Father? Perhaps he’d deserved it, in the long run. The memories plagued him, just as she’d said, and he had found that tonight it was particularly so. Sleep hadn’t come easily or pleasantly and no matter how often he wished it to, it only taunted him, whispered in his ear the escape it might bring him, but wouldn’t actually do anything about it. Sighing slightly, he turned his gaze toward his reflection in the water: it showed the wolf he knew it would. It revealed the hard, cold, unfeeling wolf that he had become over the years; he ought to take pride in that, but at the moment he could only feel an overwhelming sense of loss. Glancing hastily away from himself, this reflection of himself, he turned his chocolate eyes again to look at his Beta, gaze locking onto hers. Of course, anyone wishing to show him respect would not meet his eyes, but this did not count for the female who had proved herself worthy of the rank of Beta. After all, that was for rogues and loners, even pack members, but certainly not for someone so high up. She was very nearly his equal in many aspects. A part of him wondered if he would ever choose an Alpha Female – he heavily doubted he would actually experience this syndrome called love, but he might need to pass on his genes to a future generation, so they might claim the spot of Alpha as well. Now, however, was hardly the time in which to worry about such a thing: he was three years of age and would live through much more, if he had anything to say for it. “So it is,” he agreed with another nod, his gaze sliding toward the stars; the night sky above shown bright with these pinpricks of light. Painful memories again plowed through him, of a time when he and his two siblings and stared up for hours at the night sky, guessing at the stars and the many tales they had heard of them; they would make pictures with the stars and with the spaces in between. Those had been the times before he and Midknight had grown to be constantly at odds, the times when life had been welcomed, taken day by day, and he’d wondered of nothing and no one. He’d only been happy. It seemed so simplistic now, far too simple for the life that he had chosen to lead. Or perhaps it was simply the loss of innocence that did this to a wolf, for his innocence had surely been vanquished long ago. He wondered when the female beside him had sacrificed her own innocence, and a sense of sadness swelled within him; she shouldn’t be forced to relive such painful memories that kept her awake on long nights. He deserved it, perhaps, but she did not. “Ah, and you think your duties are so little compared to mine? I shall simply rest and order you around, wolf. I am your superior, after all.” Though it was rare, the teasing note in his voice was apparent and the smirk that had curled her own maw now appeared upon his, if more of a ghost of one than hers had been. It was rare to catch him being at all joking, in any form, and it was a wonder that he chose to do so on this very night. But tonight was the night in which he would prefer to do anything else than to revisit the life he had once led; it was in the past now and he knew it was time to put it all behind him.

Sleep was indeed a fickle thing. It could come easily and swiftly, catching its victim off guard and when they least expect it. Sleep could linger for a while until the creature succumbed to its invitation. And in some cases rest could have a prolonged absence, refusing to pay a visit to those in dire need of it. And in such cases when the female was unable to attain a full night’s recuperation, she was likely to become quite bitchy the next morning. Those wise enough heed the warning signs and steer clear when the female is on the war path, ready to tear apart anything that pisses her off. In essence, Kiora was like a bomb, ready to explode at any given moment while remaining unpredictable. It was the fine little details such as this one that made her and Terrore seem alike, and then there were the even finer details that many seemed to skim over. Perhaps this is why the two seemed to get along more so than others. Residing in the lands for some time now Kiora was able to observe the way the male acts and what sets him off. In return Terrore learned a great deal about the female. And perhaps it was because of this that Kiora was granted the privilege of Beta Female. There was also the possibility that Terrore Elusivo had sensed something in her that she had not yet discovered, something that had set her apart from others. The female couldn’t possibly imagine what this may have been, but there was obviously something about her that earned her the sought after position of Beta. She just was yet to find out what exactly that was. Since the beginning, Kiora knew Terrore was capable of masking his emotions behind his eyes. Of course, there had been instances when he failed to hide them from outsiders, though those were extreme rare cases. But having lived with the male for quite some time, Kiora could usually sense when something was troubling him. Call it instinct or whatever you wish, the lithe female was glad she could tell. In return though, the male who sat beside her now could usually always tell when she was upset; something Kiora Aderes loathed. Her mind was the one place that she could retreat to without others perturbing her or pestering her for information. Her mind was a sanctuary; a home for only herself and her innermost thoughts and feelings. It was not a toy to be meddled with or prodded. It was for this reason that Kiora (on most instances) refrained from asking questions of Terrore. The alpha met her gaze and Kiora watched as he slid his up into the sky. Above them the stars shone brightly, the only light that was able to pierce through the sheet of darkness. On this particular night the moon was concealed behind a blanket of clouds, obscuring most of the night sky. “Ah, and you think your duties are so little compared to mine? I shall simply rest and order you around, wolf. I am your superior, after all.” Shaking her gaze away from the night sky, Kiora furrowed her brow and curled her lips into a playful sneer. Though it was her duty to him to remain loyal and take his commands, Kiora couldn’t help feeling rebellious towards him. ”And how are you supposed to give me orders when you will be tired and I fully rested?” Her grin faded a bit as she spoke next. ”You shouldn’t dwell on the past too much. If you do you will never move forward. No one can change whatever has happened. The best we can do is learn from it and continue onwards.” Kiora glanced down towards her paws, embarrassed by the sudden comment. It was advice for him indeed, though it was also meant as a reminder for herself.

AIIII!! It's short and crappy >=/ So sorry about that =(

This post has been edited by Kiora Aderes on Aug 8 2007, 11:24 PM

ooc| Ha, hardly! You must be joking. That's fabulous. x3 bic| The night sky seemed to paint marvelous pictures before him, the kind that only existed in the tales of distant lands and gods and kings who rules the world. At one time, he had proclaimed himself a King; this he had not yet forgotten. It had been with a foolish naivety that he chose to say he ruled everything, that no one would ever usurp his crown! Of course, it had also been with playfulness, with the innocence that only a whelp can have, that only one not yet faced with the corruption of wolves can yet retain. Those were the days when he could be insignificant and yet think he was the greatest ruler of the lot; those were the days when he would tackle his two siblings and they would roll around, fighting in fun, until they were tired. And then they would just lay there and laugh and tease each other. That was when he could be free; that was when he withheld a sense of liberty, when he could be whoever the hell he wanted to be, unquestionably so. Oh, the times when he had possessed innocence were so far off that he’d almost forgotten they existed altogether. Was wisdom, in the end, worth the price of innocence lost? Were there some that had managed to retain a shard of the innocence while gaining wisdom all the while? It seemed impossible, improbable, but he couldn’t help but wonder vaguely, idly, if there was any chance that anyone had succeeded in this quest. And was it, in the end, better to lose the innocence, shed the dreams and hopes so as to live for reality? Wasn’t it better to have this disillusioned world dissipate around you and jump into a world there actually existed, one that wasn’t sugared? If there was to be anyone who had somehow kept that innocence, locked it safely away so that no one could ever possibly tear it from his paws, Terrore would wish to speak with them, though he supposed he couldn’t possibly imagine what he might say. The male wasn’t exactly the type to approach someone, ears pricked with curiosity, and question them about this so-called innocence that they might not even possess. The Alpha shook his head, mentally dispersing his thoughts; no, these things wouldn’t help – he shouldn’t even be recalling innocence. His had disappeared far too long ago to ever have a chance at reclaiming it. “And how are you supposed to give me orders when you will be tired and I fully rested?” He smirked slightly at this query, for if ever his statement had been factual, this retort would’ve indeed made perfect sense. As it was, the banter between them was something of a prized possession for the male, for rarely would he ever speak so easily, effortlessly, idly with another wolf. His gaze was drawn again to the stars, drawing a silent map with his eyes, when she spoke again. This time, her words were far deeper and, actually, quite an important glimpse in what he was delving into now. He glanced over at her, wondering perhaps who these words were intended for: him or her. Perhaps it was a reminder to both of them, and indeed he best heed it. The words rang very true – and they rang with the sincerity of an almost philosophical take, minus all the confusing bouts of riddles that were usually attributed to such a thing. “Meant more for you or I, fair lady?” he queried, his words faintly teasing, for never would you catch him referring to someone (in all sincerity) as any version of a ‘fair lady’. But he shook his head, then; his gaze had come to rest upon hers and again was spent spiraling away to the stars. His next words were slightly musing, contemplative, speaking to both of them. “You speak with sincerity and your words ring with wisdom; it is something that we all would do well to remember, I imagine. I know I certainly would. Regrets should no longer be a part of him, in any event.” He paused, then, looking over at her, a sigh sliding from his maw. “And I have been selfish; if you would like, I may return to my den so that you might become as well rested as you say you will be.” His words were cool as ever, but indeed, within their depths, there was a certain kindness that those who didn’t know him wouldn’t latch on to.

Someone’s innocence would always be a debatable subject. For the sole reason that the subject could never be touched upon lightly, but delved in deeply created a complicated feel to the subject. Whilst one person may think nothing of innocence, another might look upon it with high regard. While one wolf may live out their days struggling to achieve innocence throughout their life, another may simply toss it away like an old rag doll. Those who struggle to hold onto that last bit of innocence are constantly alert, awaiting the moments when it seems impossible. And those who simply throw what most other hold dear away, they become corrupted. Simply killing for the sick pleasure and twisting others’ minds so that theirs will be able to sleep t night. And finally, there were those who struggled with who they are in terms of their innocence. It was those wolves who delved the deepest into the meaning, and struggled to find out who they are. Kiora could be considered one who thrashes about at night trying to calm her restless mind. Yet that was only half the problem. With her, she knew what kept her up at night, and there was nothing she could do to erase memories. They would forever linger in the darkest corners of her mind, taunting her but never revealing themselves when she wanted them most. There was no way to forgive herself for killing one of her friends, even though he had turned out to be a mistake. Perhaps her actions in life might have been less harsh if he was the only fatality at her paws, but there had been others. Mercilessly she had killed time and time again, wanting only to erase those who stood in her way. Never once did she stop to think about the damage that she was creating; the families that she was destroying. The only thing that had mattered was herself. Those whom she had let herself grow close to had always told her that beating herself up over what she had done wasn’t a worthy way to spend her life. Kiora always disagreed with them. She was the one responsible for the destruction. No one had forced her to tear apart families and packs. All the deaths had been her doing and no one else was responsible but her. In the end those that argued with her had been punished in unfair ways, leaving the female alone once more. Chaotic Tranquility had seemed like an escape at the time. There was no stress to be had and there was no one except Terrore to stand in her way. For that reason she had agreed to join him, and pushed herself a step forward to assume the post of Beta. Now, there was no backing out. This pack was her new family, and she had only eyes for protecting them at any cost necessary. Her orders came from Terrore only, and she fulfilled them with every ounce of herself. He had entrusted her with the position of Beta, and Kiora had no intentions of letting him down. It was an odd feeling, but for once she felt like she belonged somewhere. Never before had she felt welcomed, and now that she had made her home in Chaotic Tranquility, one part of her mind was put at ease. “Meant more for you or I, fair lady?” At the sound of his words, Kiora cocked her head to the side a bit and merely gave a wolfish grin. The comment was simply thrown out there in a hope of enlightening both of them with a little bit of wisdom, considering there were both dwelling on the same subject. When the male next spoke, Kiora simply gave a halfhearted sigh and glanced away for a moment. Regret was a weakness, something that could break a being with even the slightest visit. Kiora Aderes knew this, and still as hard as she try to throw away her regrets they returned with a sharp stab. “And I have been selfish; if you would like, I may return to my den so that you might become as well rested as you say you will be.” Selfish? No, certainly not. Once more Kiora turned her head so that she was able to look at Terrore in his eyes. For most lower ranking wolves this action would not go over well with Terrore. However, he didn’t seem to mind when she did it and Kiora was grateful that he could look into his eyes while she spoke to him. ”No, you are not selfish. For once I’m actually enjoying company.” Her words rang true. On most occasions Kiora wouldn’t bother herself with the presence of others considering they normally agitated her. ”It’s nice to have someone to talk to on nights like this.”

Aww. -hugs- Thank you ^^
Hehe. Kiora is being an angsty little thing xD

ooc| Of course. -hugs back- Yes, well, Terrore's not being so much better himself. He's being unusually contemplative of his past. xD bic| Hope was something that so many wolves would forever take for granted – to hope presented a version of a paradox, almost, for though it was lovely, it could also be fatal. To be more simplistic (and yet, since we are voyaging into the land of the oxymoron, far more complicated as well), it could be called a sort of dangerous beauty. It was something lovely to gaze upon or to adhere to, but it had no qualms with stabbing you in the back – it would fail to be trustworthy, fail to be there for you when you needed it most. Sometimes it was constantly there, in the background, lurking and ready to pounce when you least needed it, least expected it. And then there were the times when it would turn its back on you, callously abandon you without a moment of consideration, a brief idea of hesitation. Hope was a paradox in itself, a contradiction, a thing that both clung onto many and was thrown off by the same amount. Some despised the thing; others held desperately to it as their only way of discovering sanity in the world where reality was far too common. So perhaps one might question where Terrore Elusivo’s own stand on hope was; where his faith rested. Hope had long since abandoned him – or had it been he who had thrown off the mistress, had he been the one to leave it in the dust? When he’d run from his past, had he also been running away from the traces of hope that he’d once possessed? It was difficult to recall a time of hope, as it was difficult to recall those times of innocence; and yet, there were times when it was far too simple, when everything came rushing back at him full throttle and he had no choice of denying it. There were some times where he didn’t stand a chance, where it stared him in the face and he was provided with an absolute inability to back away. And yet there were still the times where he couldn’t conjure it up for the life of him, couldn’t imagine what life had been like before he became the Terrore Elusivo wolves knew today, Alpha Male of Chaotic Tranquility. The grin that appeared upon her maw at his words was responded with a vague smirk. Their eyes met and he was again reminded that there were few, if any, who would ever be given that allowance. Her one-eyed blindness did not strike him, for he’d grown rather used to it over the time that she’d occupied a rank in his pack; never had he registered, openly, any surprise. In fact, there had just been something about him that hadn’t been entirely shocked, something that was laced in his personality that kept him from being unduly surprised. Perhaps it was because he’d learned throughout his life never to judge a wolf by whatever extremities they might have, by whatever outer features they might have that would be open to judgment. Either way, the female had proved herself again and again and he felt no reaction whatsoever upon seeing this blind eye; in fact, it existed only as a reminder of the true wonders of this wolf. With her next word, his smirk vanished, replaced only by a soft nod; he said nothing for several moments, his gaze again wandering the sky, again basking in the many tales he had heard as a young child. Vaguely, he wondered if perhaps she had been exposed to any such stories – were there any packs who didn’t tell such tales? The tales of wolves in the sky, of gods, of these creatures that roamed only in the night. He tilted his head slightly, resting upon his haunches, easing himself into a state of tranquility; it was quite pleasant having someone to speak to, she was correct. He had never really had that before, save when his siblings had been beside them – but that was years ago. “Indeed, it truly is,” he responded with a nod, disregarding the retrospective thoughts that had once flooded him. Idly, he queried, “Did you ever learn of the stories of the night sky, of the stars, when you were a whelp?”

“Did you ever learn of the stories of the night sky, of the stars, when you were a whelp?” The male’s question rang clearly throughout the night air, but Kiora took her time in answering. It wasn’t as though she was hesitant in answering; afraid of his reaction. No, to answer his question would be to divulge further into her past. In doing so more memories would be drug up that were most likely best forgotten in the first place. Nonetheless, it would be rude to simply ignore him like she had originally planned to. So instead, Kiora answered with the least possible information. ”My family wasn’t exactly the story telling type. When me and my siblings were just whelps, they would only share the information they deemed necessary. We never really heard anything other than what life was like when we grew up and they dangers and threats that would be posed.” Her voice was soft, conscious of what she was saying. Glancing up at the night sky, the small female lowered her body to the ground. With her forepaws outstretched in front of her, she rested her head on her legs and wrapped her banner around her. ”When my brother was killed, my parents became solitary. My dad as always angry, and my mother was usually the one who paid the price for his anger. My siblings and I usually had to rely on the Beta’s for food and protection, seeing as my own parents were sent into a state of shock once my brother was dead.” The wolf paused once more, afraid that she had said too much. No other wolf had ever learned so much about her past. It was something Kiora didn’t deem necessary for others to know. Nothing was going to change it, and so there was no reason others should know about it. ”I left about a year after that.” A small laugh escaped her maw, one-eyed gaze lingering on the water before her. It seemed so peaceful, like something out of a story book. ”I never found out what happened to my family.” Closing her story, Kiora turned her head so she was looking at Terrore. Would he perhaps think differently of her now that he knew she had left her family? Some would perhaps think that it was a cowardly thing to do, and sometimes she couldn’t help but agree with them. ”Do you think I did the right thing? Leaving my siblings with my mother and father?” His answer to the question would confirm whether or not he thought her cowardly. The alpha’s opinion was highly respected by kiora, and she had placed her trust in him.

I totally went braindead during that 0.o

At the mention of her family not particularly being the story-telling type, a smirk tugged at his muzzle. His family wasn’t much different, but within his pack there had existed a resident storyteller, and he would often listen to them. His father, however, did not approve, and as a young whelp he idolized his father. Therefore, his grumbling beforehand was a necessity: he would always tell his siblings how he didn’t want to go, how it was full of foolish and ridiculous stories designed only for naïve pups, and he wasn’t one of those. Of course, he would always wind up there anyway. No matter the exasperation or annoyance he would attempt to proffer to the world, it never quite worked. He was never quite able to fool himself—his brothers and sisters most likely weren’t fooled, either—and he could never completely convince himself that the stories were entirely based on idiotic legends. But that was what myth was for: to make you wonder whether there was even a little toe based in reality. He would shiver at all the right moments, no matter how he attempted to disguise it. He would make his reactions less obvious, of course, and occasionally throw in contemptuous glances at the others, just for effect. But he knew. Maybe it wasn’t the only thing he knew, either. Maybe he’d known more. Maybe he’d just been too naïve, after all, more even than his siblings. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Because the fact was that this family that Kiora had described was, to begin with, not altogether so very different from his own. His mother had always been fairly distant to him, and so he had never gotten to know her quite as well as his father. This had been his own decision, of course: he had chosen his father. He had been at fault for the distance growing between his mother and him, his sister and him. Eventually, he did his best to push his brother out of the picture, too. And then there had been that literal gap in their distance, when they had stolen away from him in the night, and he was left to confront himself. Of course, this was to be avoided: he remained with his father, jettisoned up on the ranks, and soon came face-to-face with that very same father in a showdown. It was difficult for him to stop idolizing his father; he had done so since he was a pup, dismissed anything that might have been “wrong,” even if it was blatantly obvious to the rest of his family. To Midknight. And when the time had come, when Terrore had overpowered his own father for the first time in his life, when the positions had been flipped, the older wolf could not handle it. He would not manage losing; Terrore was run out of his pack. It was ironic, in a way, the fact that Kiora was asking him about leaving her pack when that was exactly what his sisters and mother had done to him. He, too, had eventually left, but only once he had been forced away. Because he was strong. A curl of his lips hinted at the ugliness of his memories, perhaps to be mistaken for her own words, although not intended to be so. It was ironic, too, that here and now, in the dark, star-filled sky, she was inexplicably—accidentally--forcing him to face his own past. Forcing him to face his own abandonment, when his family had left him. Forcing him to make a decision. And she didn’t even realize it. Was her situation altogether different? Had he been better to his own siblings than her parents had to her? Now, he could acknowledge himself: cold, wary, indifferent, even cruel. But, as an onlooker, had it been he that had driven his mother and siblings away? And, if it hadn’t been, if they had decided to take him along for the ride, would he have obstructed their path? Would he have become his very own father? Forcing back a snarl, attempting to retain his outward composure, he turned again to Kiora. In this case, he met her head on, gaze locking forcibly with her own. Did his mother do the right thing? Did his siblings? When they left him with his father, did they consider the consequences? But, then again, would he have had it any other way? “Yes. You did. You might not think so, but you did the strong thing,” he informed her, his words forceful. “Because leaving would’ve been harder than staying. Because that was what you’d known your whole life. Whatever other wolves say about it—well, they can go burn in hell.” A pause, a faint smirk trailing up his muzzle, “My past wasn’t exactly flaw-free either. My family possessed a rather, ah, story-telling-free personality as well, but given we had a story teller in our pack, it made little difference. In that case, I shall be required to tell you a story.” Another smirk. Considering all things (mainly his personality), he was rather jovial…relatively, at least.

At the mention of her family not particularly being the story-telling type, a smirk tugged at his muzzle. His family wasn’t much different, but within his pack there had existed a resident storyteller, and he would often listen to them. His father, however, did not approve, and as a young whelp he idolized his father. Therefore, his grumbling beforehand was a necessity: he would always tell his siblings how he didn’t want to go, how it was full of foolish and ridiculous stories designed only for naïve pups, and he wasn’t one of those. Of course, he would always wind up there anyway. No matter the exasperation or annoyance he would attempt to proffer to the world, it never quite worked. He was never quite able to fool himself—his brothers and sisters most likely weren’t fooled, either—and he could never completely convince himself that the stories were entirely based on idiotic legends. But that was what myth was for: to make you wonder whether there was even a little toe based in reality. He would shiver at all the right moments, no matter how he attempted to disguise it. He would make his reactions less obvious, of course, and occasionally throw in contemptuous glances at the others, just for effect. But he knew. Maybe it wasn’t the only thing he knew, either. Maybe he’d known more. Maybe he’d just been too naïve, after all, more even than his siblings. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Because the fact was that this family that Kiora had described was, to begin with, not altogether so very different from his own. His mother had always been fairly distant to him, and so he had never gotten to know her quite as well as his father. This had been his own decision, of course: he had chosen his father. He had been at fault for the distance growing between his mother and him, his sister and him. Eventually, he did his best to push his brother out of the picture, too. And then there had been that literal gap in their distance, when they had stolen away from him in the night, and he was left to confront himself. Of course, this was to be avoided: he remained with his father, jettisoned up on the ranks, and soon came face-to-face with that very same father in a showdown. It was difficult for him to stop idolizing his father; he had done so since he was a pup, dismissed anything that might have been “wrong,” even if it was blatantly obvious to the rest of his family. To Midknight. And when the time had come, when Terrore had overpowered his own father for the first time in his life, when the positions had been flipped, the older wolf could not handle it. He would not manage losing; Terrore was run out of his pack. It was ironic, in a way, the fact that Kiora was asking him about leaving her pack when that was exactly what his sisters and mother had done to him. He, too, had eventually left, but only once he had been forced away. Because he was strong. A curl of his lips hinted at the ugliness of his memories, perhaps to be mistaken for her own words, although not intended to be so. It was ironic, too, that here and now, in the dark, star-filled sky, she was inexplicably—accidentally--forcing him to face his own past. Forcing him to face his own abandonment, when his family had left him. Forcing him to make a decision. And she didn’t even realize it. Was her situation altogether different? Had he been better to his own siblings than her parents had to her? Now, he could acknowledge himself: cold, wary, indifferent, even cruel. But, as an onlooker, had it been he that had driven his mother and siblings away? And, if it hadn’t been, if they had decided to take him along for the ride, would he have obstructed their path? Would he have become his very own father? Forcing back a snarl, attempting to retain his outward composure, he turned again to Kiora. In this case, he met her head on, gaze locking forcibly with her own. Did his mother do the right thing? Did his siblings? When they left him with his father, did they consider the consequences? But, then again, would he have had it any other way? “Yes. You did. You might not think so, but you did the strong thing,” he informed her, his words forceful. “Because leaving would’ve been harder than staying. Because that was what you’d known your whole life. Whatever other wolves say about it—well, they can go burn in hell.” A pause, a faint smirk trailing up his muzzle, “My past wasn’t exactly flaw-free either. My family possessed a rather, ah, story-telling-free personality as well, but given we had a story teller in our pack, it made little difference. In that case, I shall be required to tell you a story.” Another smirk. Considering all things (mainly his personality), he was rather jovial…relatively, at least.

The memory of leaving her family tugged at the corners of her mind, and haunted her dreams when she slept. Day in and day out Kiora thought about the day she had left, fretting over what would have happened if she had stayed. Could she have protected her siblings more thoroughly? Perhaps if she had stayed a while longer she wouldn’t have become such a train wreck. Guilt always seemed to linger with her, creeping into the depths of her mind and heart, and plaguing her with unwanted thoughts. Although, in the end, it may have been better for her to leave when she had, the thought that her siblings would not be able to survive scared her. So lost in her own thoughts and memories, the female hardly noticed as Terrore curled his lip upward in, what seemed to be, a snarl. Worried that her rambling had upset him, Kiora laid her ears against her skull, opening her mouth to speak. ”Sorry. Sometimes I get too caught up in what I’m saying..” Her voice trailed off as her eyes drifted towards the sky. Thousands upon thousands of stars glinted in the blackened atmosphere, lighting the land before them. A slightly concealed moon hung heavily on the summer air, adding further to the lighting. A soft trickling of water could be heard from the spring that was placed delicately beside the duo, and the sound of the water splashing against the smooth rocks calmed the female. The night was still and peaceful, bathed in the eerie light that the full moon cast down on Terrore and Kiora. “Yes. You did. You might not think so, but you did the strong thing. Because leaving would’ve been harder than staying. Because that was what you’d known your whole life. Whatever other wolves say about it—well, they can go burn in hell.” Dropping her snout so that she could face the alpha head-on, Kiora lifted her lips into a half smile. Somehow, his words had put her mind at ease for the time being, and Kiora let her muscles relax further. Realizing that she had been holding her breath in anticipation of his response, Kiora slowly exhaled and proceeded to inhale the crisp air around her. “My past wasn’t exactly flaw-free either. My family possessed a rather, ah, story-telling-free personality as well, but given we had a story teller in our pack, it made little difference. In that case, I shall be required to tell you a story.” Cocking her head at the male’s next string of words, Kiora couldn’t help but smirk. Sliding her forepaws in front of her until her belly was brushing against the ground, Kiora gently wrapped her tail around her rump and laid her head against her legs. Her gaze was fixed upon the wolf in front of her. Smirk still etched on her face. ”I think we have plenty of time tonight for a little story, mmm?”