Post by Naijinaxx on Aug 14, 2010 22:00:13 GMT -5
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Frightened eyes gazed out through the darkness as the storm raged through the oaks, a howling thundering wind tearing through the abstract winds as the shadows of blured canine beasts splashed through the flickering waters, ripples making they way through the misty freezing river before once more leaving it behind.
A den mother awakens from her sleep, her eyes are alert, her senses are keen, savage will upon her mind as her two kits remain sleeping to the night, mnuzzled against her side to keep warm, but in the eyes of the den mother, there was fear, lips part to reveal white fangs and driver of bone crushing wrath, claws began to push forward from their fleshly sheaths and drive into the moist and dry soil of the forest canopy before her den.
Ferocious snalrs of canine beasts ravage through the darkw ood, the storms tears crashing through the canopy, lighning throwing rays over leaves, sending their shadows to the forest bottom where it curved with the shape of trees and many inequalities of the surface.
The piercing cracks of bushes and twigs beneat the weight of running paws was enough to awaken the birds, where the cries of ravens broke through the abstract thunder of the raging storm, when lighning flashed, could be seen were the pools of predatory eyes, the curing of a muzzel to expose striking white fangs, a carnavorous snarl tearing through the winds.
Beyond far, another wolverine proceeded in dragging a carcars through the foliage of the forest, using all his strength, his endurance to move through the storm so that he may deliver the food that his family needed, his devotion edging him on, his will to be the father he was pledging him forward.
The den mother was awkae now, having heard the approaching dnager, the scent having been blow in her direction, wafting through her den, where it collected, where she sampled the scent to learn of it's intent... dogs... the one true predator of her kind. She looked to her kits, they were fast asleep, worry crossed her eyes, she felt her spine tingle with both fear, and eager anticipation, the excitement of battle raining through her veins like a thousand of the earth's mighty rivers.
"Get to the back, hurry..." her voice was desperate, it was refluxed, it was vibrant and it was stellar, worry in her tone as her two kits awakened upon the climax of the storm; one male, and another female, the product of the nearly 2 year gestation period, it was all nature would bestow upon her, all that her mate, Naxx could give her, but then again, being a mother, it could be one, or twelve kits, she would die to protect them. Having made countless sacrifices already, she began to snarl as the shadows began to descend down the drop-off, slidding down on their rumps as she rose her tail, foul-smelling il began to run through ehr pores, anal glands began to swell and express themselve, the perfume of the wolvering being carried by the beastly winds as she stood her ground before her den, there was a certain uncanny wit about her, the legendary beast that was said to be a messenger from the living world to the world of the dead; a motherly instinct manifesting itself as a yearning hunger of dis-satisfaction in her blood, one that had been passed from a thousand-thousand gendersations of mother wolverines, to sacrifice themselves for the greater good, to accomidete the livelyhood of the young that had developed with in her womb, that she had strove valiently, to eer forth again and again to bring about this new life, -two kits; and for that, she summoned the wolverine rage that had been crawling through her blood, waiting... biding, surfacing now to protect her young, to embrace the mark of the wil that had been passed through her genis for millions of years, the great father Telismustelidae (ancester of the wolverine) had learned through his experiences to pass onto the next; a fiery rage crawling like searing fire in the eep crevices of her mind, the thunder boomed, the lightning blazed the heavens in a lashing whip that threw down the rays of light upon the surface, where her eyes glazed with a liquid brown of tenacity and rage... and when the dogs cames in range, she drew in closer, thrashing about the muddy surface as lightning crashed once more, throwing it's light upon her adversaries and the boulder that would soon become her grave. But she knew that she wouldn't die without a fight, she knew that she would die for her kits, her young, her progeny; her pride and joy. -The successors of the next gerneration, the new hope that would one day take on the role of producing more of the slowly fading species.
And she faught with all her power, all her rage, claws and fangs racked against fur and sinew, bood dripped to the running water below only to be carried down to the current in which it flowed, the scrossing blur of fangs and the thunder of snarls vibrating along her ears like a chior of angels, the thrive of for battle, the beastly rage that dwelled within. Before they grabbed her by the throat, oil acting as a lubricant which made fangs slip past her flesh, where young eyes gazed upon the fate of their mother, wide with fear, wide with shock, and loneliness, before they rose her body in an effort to gain momentum, for stealing their food in the hopes that she may feed her young; the den mother opened her mouth, still snarling, exposing those fangs as her vision blured with furiosity; before the canine male jerked his neck down, bringing the skull of the den mother upon the boulder with a resounding crack... where young eyes gazed upon the entire seen, the death of his mother yet to reach him, and if the reality of the facts that had taken place were yet to inform him of his pending doom, the blood that ran the boulder was.
It is within the instinct of the predator to feed upon the young before attempting to deal with the adult, though in this case, there was but no choice, there was still young that needed to be taken care of, they fed upon the young males sister first, beating her to death with strikes of their paws, and their craniums, they dore the roof off the den and dragged him out as well, throwing him across the air until he slide on his side in the mud, blood running along the surface as he gazed out at those who would kill him, his eyes quivering, his brown fur writhing... gazing into the blood died fangs of his tormentors, his killers.
The adult male entered view, fury in his eyes as he gazed upon the scene, the carcase falling from his parted fangs as he panted in fury, his shoulders bristling, the thunder and lightning flashing over him and landing upon his shoulders before he charged forward with an infuriating bellow that shattering the storm and broke it to pieces, mud and grass ripping from his errected claws before he lunged out with a full swipe, his claws embedding into the jaw bone of the dog and proceeded to pull, tearing the flesh wide and pulling the dog to the eath until her rolled onto his back, the adult male driving his fangs through his throat with a crunch, before bringing his neck back with a crack that caused his flailing hind and forelegs to freeze still, before collapsing.
Forcing his claws free he lunged to the others, who retreated, knowing full well the fury of a male wolverine, trailing blood behind them... leaving the male with his dead family... his murdered children... everything that he had gained in this world that would continue to be so cruel to him... lost in a manner of moments.
"One sole desire, one passion now remains to keep life's fever still within his veins, Vengeance! Dire vengeance on the wretch who cast O'er him and all he lov'd that ruinous blast." -Thomas Moore - The Velied Prophet of Khorassan
[/font][/size]He awakens with a resounding snarl that tears through the silence, heaving for breath, his chest swelling in and out with each contracted breath as numbers of tears run down his eyes as he is reminded once more with the death of his family, like a knife in the dark, a guilt that continued to get its revenge... he knew that he should've been faster, he knew that had he had been there, he wouldn't be alone right now.
But from the guilt, once again surfaced a deep and furious anger, it boiled through his blood, it ran his nerves through ice, it clutched him tight, driving the very breath from his lungs and out into the open, choking him, strangling him until her could no longer open his eyes and see the world as it was. He didn't see the world as a place to live, a place where one could make a family and simply live in peace... no, he saw it as a place that continued to perpetually tear him to pieces from the very fiber of his soul.
A heart of iron pounds in a chest of bronze... he longed to be with her, his dead children, the one thing that kept him sane throughout the years, the one thing that kept him whole.
Screaming, tears running down his face, he stood and charged to the nearest tree, bringing his claws into the bark, hyper rage crawling through his eyes as they swelled in his skull, dragging his talons through and down, bringing them with a swipe across a bush with a crack, seeing the faces of the dogs that had murdered his family before him, laughing at him, orbiting him as the blood of his family dripped from their fangs, he turned, rushing to another dree, bringing both forelegs forward and with a hiss, drove them again into the tree, tears of rage and solace running from his cheeks as he dragged them down to the roots, swiping them, tearing the bark layer by layer before charging into yet another, tearing vegitation from the ground in a heaping roar before he collapsed, burrying his face into his forelegs...
Flashes of lightning ripping through his mind, courage draining snarls shattering his sence of vermillion, blood pools along the surface, dogs orbit their kill... rolling their tongues over their chops in eager hunger.
He didn't know what to do, but at the same time... he knew what he had to do... to put his mind at rest...
Avenge their deaths...
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