|
Post by Namir Black on Nov 19, 2007 1:04:27 GMT -5
Namir had just felt like a mother wolf fussing over her bickering pups as she snapped at her pack members. As they stood to face her the fur on her neck prickled even more, and she snarled and barked in warning. She wouldn't be taken down lightly, she could only try to keep the peace for so long before she had to get involved. Then with alacrity Pete plucked Pablo and Arai up, Namir stood still on the ground before his massive form, menacing even in size. She stood prepared for Arai to wriggle free of his grasp, to drop below and tear into her or the first thing she sunk her teeth into. Namir hated to feel weak, and trying to play peace maker never helped her. She began to get angry, he'd left her, she'd mourned him, and now she couldn't forgive him. Namir no longer knew the wolf that stood before her, and the fire of anger roared to life in her chest. With speed she ran behind Pete and sunk her teeth viciously into his ankles, scratching his thighs with her sharp shiny black nails.
|
|
|
Post by Pablo on Nov 19, 2007 15:18:47 GMT -5
Pablo's paws still touched the ground as Pete held him. He would not attempt to hurt his friend, unless he tried to. But being grabbed like that was unacceptable, that was how mothers carried their children about. He was not a pup, flinging his claw up wards he hit Pete's arm strong enough to make him let go, but not enough to hurt. He dropped onto his two feet and leaped back onto all four still facing the three lycans. He growled, watching as Arai attempted to wiggle out of his grasp. Immediately he had an amused faced but it quickly went away as Namir snuck around Pete to sink her canine teeth into his ankles. It was dishonorable to attack from behind, there fore Pablo leaped at Namir, the whole time growling. He did not attempt to hit her with his paws but instead intended to ram right into her.
|
|
|
Post by Namir Black on Nov 19, 2007 17:05:47 GMT -5
Namir ripped flesh from Pete's ankles as she was hit from the side. Pablo rammed her, and it fueled the fire. She was angry with being abandoned yet again, hating that she didn't look more after him when the war was cleared up, that she didn't try hard enough sooner to find him, and angry with her own preoccupation with her own life. In the old days it never used to be like this, it was all of them fighting the forces against them, never amongst themselves though. It was bad of her to get him from behind, but the thing with wolves is they never played clean. Now she turned to face Pablo, her head lowered and her body paused in an agile stance, preparing herself. With the same alacrity and capriciousness that had caused her to lock on to her progenitor's ankles in the first place she launched her self at Pablo and snipped viciously at his neck and shoulder, not for a second even backing down.
|
|
|
Post by Pete on Nov 20, 2007 18:10:53 GMT -5
Enough! his voiced boomed throughout their minds. The Lycans need not fight, Pete had given everything precious to him to ensure they would never need to again. He lifted his arms above his head, the thrashing red wolf along with them. Shifting back into his human form he slammed his arms to the ground, lifting his legs and the black wolf, dropping them to the ground as well, knocking the wind out of all three. Standing up, he wrapped the remainder of his torn shirt around his wounded arm, a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. He crossed his arms in a sign that he was done fighting. Who the hell are you and what are you doing here?!
|
|
|
Post by Namir Black on Nov 20, 2007 21:48:31 GMT -5
Namir rolled over on her back, gasping for air. She had forgotten how agile Pete was, and now she was painfully reminded. To prove that she was no more a threat, she laid down where she was. In the back of her mind, she wasn't surprised that he had forgotten, that he didn't recognize the black wolf before him. The pain stung not only in her lungs now, but emotionally, she would not cry again, she refused. I'm Namir Black, years ago you changed me, Pete, and my husband Jarrod. she projected calmly to the great grey wolf. She remembered the old Pete, the young teenager who had countless times watched her back.. Namir was done mourning, she was just happy that he was okay.
|
|
|
Post by Arai on Nov 21, 2007 13:43:53 GMT -5
Thrown across the clearing, Arai hit the ground hard on her broken ribs. A yelp escaped her as she rolled, but it was quickly cut off by that familiar pinching feeling of getting the wind knocked out of you. For a second or two, she blacked out. Slowly her heavy cinnamon fur shortened and smoothed into a creamy layer of skin as her ears shrunk and dissappeared behind locks of auburn hair. The blunted tips of her black claws drew in, and her paws lengthened into fingers. Tail gone, her muzzle shrunk back into a human face. And there, in the silver light of the moon, lay Arai. Painfully, she found her footing and stood, facing the three. The thin scar down her cheek remained, as did the lacerations crossing her stomach, but aside from those she was the picture of physical health. Not an ounce of superflous flesh was evident; she was all lean muscle and sinew. Cuts that Pablo had inflicted began to slowly heal, the blood streaking her skin darkening as it dried. She heard the painful rattle of air being sucked in and out of her lungs as her heart beat fast. Somehow, she knew the blonde one who had been the gray wolf. But she kept herself from remembering. Remembrance brought pain; Arai had enough pain without it. Her chest heaving for breath, Arai silently glared at the three who were unwilling to fight, refusing to reveal her identity. The black one she knew; she called herself Namir. The males were a mystery to her, though they seemed familiar. Blood was let; someone would pay. But she didn't have enough energy to transform back yet, so she held her fury in check, waiting for the moment to strike.
|
|
|
Post by Pete on Nov 21, 2007 23:43:27 GMT -5
There were so many emotions flowing through him. Arai was alive! The lacerations in his arm proved it. This wasn't a dream. She was alive! He was far beyond elated, Arai meant everything to him before the explosision. He had been mourning her death for years. But here she was, standing in front of him, very much alive and breathing. But underneath the overwhelming joy was horrible guilt. He was the cause of her suffering. It was Pete who had sentenced her to death. Pete who pulled the trigger, it was he who brought this hell upon her. Would she ever be able to forgive him? Did she even remember him? Or was he marked for death, perhaps that was why she came back. Vengence. To avenge her own death. He forgave her once... maybe it wasn't too late for forgiveness. He ran to where she lay, throwing his arms around her. Arai. It's me, Pete... I'm... so sorry. It wasn't supposed to turn out like this... I was too late... If she wanted his blood, she would have it. It was the way of the land. An eye for an eye... a life for a life.
|
|
|
Post by Arai on Nov 22, 2007 11:41:53 GMT -5
In all the years she had lived her death, Arai had not seen this event forthcoming. She had fought, fought tirelessly, and expected the others to do the same. But then the blonde one approached her. The emotion on his face confused her; it was not hate, nor fear, but something different. Something foreign to her. Yet she somehow felt that she knew that at one point. But her mind, the wolf, wouldn't let her remember. And then the completely unexpected happened. His arms were around her. There was a name for this, this soft holding, but she knew not what it was. It scared her, the way this felt, the way he felt. Arai did not like fear. Pete? The name hurt to hear. It sliced somewhere deep inside her. Memories tried to push free, emboldened by that name. Panic began to rise in her chest. Away! Remembering hurt and it was to be avoided. Sorrow... she had felt sorrow, at some point. But no more. Not Arai, not the hardened fighter that battled for her own survival. Never sorrow. But the longer his arms were around her, the more she was forced to feel. Pushing and growling, she broke free, leaving him with scratches lining his arms and bare chest. Nails seeped in blood, she panted heavily, standing away, light amber eyes dialated and panicked. And then, for the first time, Arai spoke. Her voice had changed, become more raw and wild. It had lost the soft cultured air and all laughter was drained from it. "What do you want from me?" she snarled gutterally. It could be said that she had almost forgotten how to use her voice, for it was rough and out of practice.
|
|
|
Post by Pablo on Nov 23, 2007 0:17:00 GMT -5
Pablo stared at the three lycans. Somehow all of this made him frustrated. Should he know these people? His primal side didn't at least. His canine teeth appeared followed by a growl, he tried to urge his body to leap at the back of Namir who was currently facing the opposite direction. But an unseen force almost seemed to hold him back. It eventually came to his ignorant mind that there would be no more fighting. The human side of the young man was returning and taking control. Pablo turned around in one swift movement holding his head up high. The wolf made his way back to his cabin, walking by his 'followers'.
|
|
|
Post by Namir Black on Nov 29, 2007 7:29:39 GMT -5
Namir lie on the ground and watched the scene from there. It'd been odd to see the two lycans be reunited after so long. Her heart went out to Pete for trying so hard, but at the same time she felt crushed that she'd been passed off. Following Pablo's lead she left the scene to the couple, feeling as if she needed to give them time to theirselves. At this point she began to wonder why she was even still here. She'd got what she wanted - to see Pete, to make sure he was alive. Mission accomplished, she thought sarcastically. I should just go home.. All she wanted right now was to slip back into Jarrod's strong arms of protection and cry her eyes out. Namir ran off behind the tree she was hiding behind where her clothes lay, transformed back and dressed quickly. She had wanted to go home, but she needed to talk to Pablo before she did anything. After she was finished dressing she continued in Pablo's footsteps up towards the small cabin. Little beady eyes of nearby foxes and squirrels watched her. Namir raised her eyebrow in speculation, What is this, Snow White? When did all these little critters get out here? Namir knocked on the door gently, "Pablo?"
|
|
|
Post by Pablo on Nov 29, 2007 19:47:38 GMT -5
Pablo had made his way to the cabin, leaving the other three behind. Though he didn't recognize two of them, during his life as a teenager, he was usually the third or even fifth wheel. Not that he was complaining, he wouldn't have it any other way. Pushing the door open with his fore paw the man stepped inside using his hind leg to close the door. Closing his eyes, the wolf began to turn back to normal. Maybe the wolf form was normal by now? It either way he was in his human form. He stared down at the floor as he got dressed, slowly but surely his reasonable side returned leaving the irrational wolf part behind. To his surprise, somebody knocked on the door, calling for him. Maybe even more surprising was the fact, it was a female voice. He hadn't heard one for a long time.... Alone in the forest it had usually only been him and Pete. His hand grasped the door knob, Pablo did not open it slowly instead he flung it open. It would be most likely to Namir's surprise that he had grown. At the age of sixteen he had been 5'4 now Pablo stood at 6 feet. "Yes? Do I know you?"
|
|
|
Post by Namir Black on Nov 29, 2007 20:19:58 GMT -5
The lycan towered over her now, she indeed was surprised. Namir brushed back her straight long eve-like hair from her shoulder to where it trailed down her back. "I'm Namir.. I was Pete's first bite." She wasn't sure if he remembered her, but she remembered him. "I need to talk to you about Pete," concern tinged her tone. Namir stood outside the door, trying not to invade on his personal space. "What happened? I mean, all this time, I thought he was dead...and now... I don't even think he knows who I am." Tears were stinging her eyes now, but she held strong, she'd be d*mned if she let that tear fall. "What's wrong...? Why didn't he come find me?"
|
|
|
Post by Pete on Feb 29, 2008 19:09:46 GMT -5
"I want things to be normal again... like they were before..." Well, things probably would never be "normal" again. But when were they normal in the first place? After all, it wasn't as if they were Werewolves or anything strange like that... But at least back then they held onto a small fraction of their sanity. It was horrible to see Arai in this state... this wasn't the Arai he remembered, this was an empty vessel. War had robbed her of her humanity... (funny... we're not human anywayz lol) But perhaps there was a way... years and years of training and learning had unlocked powers previously unimaginable... Pete had noticed that even at a young age, Lycans had a strange, almost hypnotic effect on people. He wondered... if it worked on humans back then, maybe it would work on a Lycan now. Only one way to find out... She wasn't going to like this... It had to be fast. In the blink of an eye he swept his leg into the back of Arai's shins, his forearm connecting with her chest with a solid thump, knocking her the the ground. Pinning her down, his eyes changed from the familiar blue-grey into a mesmerizing gold. He tried to bore his way into her mind with his eyes. Arai, snap out of it! It's me! Remember? The woods, New York, your home town... don't you remember?
|
|
|
Post by Arai on Mar 2, 2008 11:45:57 GMT -5
Already shaken by all the previous incidents, Arai was no match for the speed of the lycan. Finding herself pinned to the ground, she struggled to get away. Any contact with others made her edgy and uncomfortable. Had he been a normal human, her lycan strength would have easily flung him off. But he, too, was a lycan, and as such was capable of pinning her firmly. Arai found herself staring into intense golden eyes, and that voice - so painful yet so hauntingly familiar - bored through her frantic thoughts once more. New York...home....the den.... Her thoughts were forced down that path by the intensity of the stranger. But time had taught her a few tricks as well. Technically she was an older lycan than Pete, and though in the beginning she had pushed away her newfound life, she had embraced it a few years later. Pete may have been learning, but so had she. And by tapping heavily into the wolf side after the explosion - so heavily that the line between wolf and human was blurred - Arai had unlocked powers most only dreamed about. Closing her eyes, she concentrated hard until she felt the rumbling beginnings of an awesome weapon building in her chest. Then her eyes snapped open. The pale amber intensified into a fiery sulpher, the look seeming to burn anything it touched. Opening her mouth, she let out a roar. But this was no ordinary roar. It was as if a giant creature had roared into a megaphone, then that sound was amped up to a thousand times the increased power. The roar had knocked back scores of men, deafening many, and at such close proximity - only a few inches away - the least that would happen to the other lycan was that he would be thrown off.
|
|
|
Post by Pete on Mar 2, 2008 22:48:55 GMT -5
Yup, she wasn't too happy about it. The blast sent him a good ten feet into the air, the birds in the nearby trees chirped angrily and flew away as he hit the ground with a thump. He squinted his eyes and donned his signature grin, once again exposing his fangs... if it was a fight she wanted, it was a fight she'd get. Pete was only too happy to oblige. As soon as the ringing went away. He assumed a fighting stance, knees bent and fists raised to chest level. For a moment he almost thought about landing a blow... he couldn't harm the one he once loved. Which was a problem when she would like nothing more than to rip you limb from limb and feast on your decaying corpse. What to do... he would never run away and it was doubtful Arai would either... killing her was out of the question. Well, there was one idea... but would it work? He had already seen what his brilliant ideas had accomplished... if it didn't work, he would have to do it the old fashioned way. Much like a runner at a track meet, he stooped down low to the ground, and shot forward, spinning 'round and 'round the werewolf. He ran faster and faster, the air being pulled up and out of the vortex. If he could keep it up, she would eventually pass out from lack of oxygen. After all, how long could she possibly hold her breath?
|
|