A New Land? A Clean Slate (Open)

[torches]

The rolling plains, the smell of grass, with the hint of rain. He had chased this smell far and long, running from his past, running from the trouble he had brought upon himself. His pads ached, his muscles twitched and tugged for him to lay down, but he couldn't stand to lay down. He had finally found the place he was running to, the place where he could start anew, a place where he wasn't being chased. Surely they had stopped when they lost sight of him in the deadlands, surely they had either chased him until they themselves passed, or until they had to turn back.

Jerome grinned wickedly to himself. A new slate, no one knew him here, no one knew he was nothing but a pupnapper for hire, a backstabber, a loner with quite a long history. He could never belong to a pack knowing this about himself... he sunk his ivory claws into the dirt and shook himself clean from the dust that clung heavily to his pelt. With the dust gone one could mistake him for another normal wolf like themselves, not knowing that something more dangerous lurked beneath.

He fancied the idea, as he looked up at the grey sky, of being the leader of a rag-tag group of renegades. But that would involve loyalty, would it not? At least the promise of safety. The lithe wolf chuckled, then shifted, flicking his tail from side to side. He flattened his ears, remembering his mother, what would she think of all of this madness he had caused? All of the love he had strained for the simple things like a meal, or a place to rest, or even the chance to see a father go absolutely nuts over the fate of their child, to see the devotion. He growled at the thought. His mother would have never approved.

Jerome sighed, he would try here, try to find love, or slip back into his old ways, either way, there was going to be a change, if not for only a short time. He lifted his head and let loose a long howl, mixed feelings sung on it, from lonliness, to the cry of a heart seeking love, the anger of a hound torn form his home... It was inspiring to him.

[Aveilthé]

OOC: Your pretty header is stretching the board a little. >>;

"RAGH!"

A throaty growl was released the moment Tekkatta found her fangs upon the flesh of a wild young deer. The deer toppled, and so did the wolf upon it, and together they rolled down a hill in a convoluted blur. At the base of the hill did the deer and wolf rest, a collection of dust and dirt swelling up and swirling in the air around them. As soon as the dust settled could the strangest wolf be seen, her fur a brilliant shade of startling red. She held the limp deer in her mouth, and with brilliant green eyes she fancied she spotted something moving in the far distance, promptly forcing a horrible growl from a quivering throat. She could barely make it out, for it was lightly covered in a damp mist.

Wild female dropped the deer, and she walked over it, hackles on end and silver horns glistening beneath the pale light of the sun. She gnashed her teeth, having just heard the howl of the lonely wolf. This one had balls to make himself known in a land full of terrible creatures like herself. With great scorn, she snorted and belched out an angry, rough howl of her own that sounded more like some kind of bizarre roar.

"You will never have it. It's mine. Go away, or I will find you, and kill you," her howl said.

[torches]

The brute's ears swiveled to a terrible sound, one that scraped the air and almost made him jump out of his skin. It seemed to be clawing it's way to the heavens from some sort of hellish throat. His head turned, eyes searching for the source.

This sound, it made his soul and skin crawl as one, making his instincts cry for the flight, cry for the thought to run like the wind once more. But he defied this, staying there, looking over his shoulder, then scanning the location around him. Surely the beast that had made this noise had been angered, had been startled by him? No, this seemed to be the sound of a hunter, of a beast of blood and war.

He lifted a lip into a slight snarl, but took not of this and stopped before he stood. His voice was a bit shaky, but he let out a guttural growl of his own, a defensive one, at that. He wasn't too keen of the noise that was a warning, not a welcome, or at least that was what he assumed, as the language of the howl was foreign and rough to him, not to mention that the sheer volume and distortion from the anger portrayed in this song further made him confused.

Never had Jerome heard a response from his lonely howls, never. He stood now, backing away at a slow pace, tail dipped below the level of his back, and lips drawn into a defensive half-snarl. Whoever this was, they sounded more dangerous than he could ever imagine.

[Aveilthé]

Silver scales clanked together like soft metal against metal as the red female stomped through the tall grass, using her nose to scope out the perpetrator. Scarred muzzle rose and fell, her movements not bothering to remain quiet. If anything, she hoped the other would run off. Or not... she wanted any excuse now to kick some scrawny wolf ass.

She could sense that he was male. An ordinary wolf? Perhaps lonely, as his song suggested--well she couldn't remember, she wasn't paying much attention. All that ran through her mind was that he was out to get what belonged to her. She spat on the grass, lips lightly flecked with spittle.

"Are you a wolf or aren't you? Running away like the dog I know you are... I will find you, and so will my teeth!"

Not so lucky for him, the red female spotted him soon after she said those things. With a new growl bubbling deep inside her throat, she crouched, preparing to attack, not without yelling out a fierce cry.

"YOU WILL NOT TAKE WHAT'S MINE!" With that, she made a fierce leap, the sudden violent gesture clearing away some of the mist that had accumulated in the area. Jaws widened, and silver spinal spikes taut, the wild green-eyed red demon wanted to grapple at the dog's flank and bring him down. She could almost taste his blood on her tongue... Disgusting, but relieving. Perhaps only then will her heart become tame again.

[torches]

Sound, he could hear it now, the sound of stone, almost, only more high pitched, more like flint on iron? No, too odd for that. His ears pricked, in this ever-growing mist the sound seemed to echo, seemed to surround Jerome. It was intimidating to the loner. His fur bristled, making him look just slightly larger, an innate response to stress. Moments seemed to slow to a standstill as adrenaline began to course through his veins. Like a cornered animal he backed in circles, quickly losing track of which was was which.

Suddenly, a loud noise, and the sound of rustling before he found himself scrambling out of the way of some large thing which appeared to be aiming for him, yelling something... he couldn't understand the language easily, but the gesture told him to run.

He skirted, but the beast was able to grab the lower half of his leg. He yelped, kicking and turning, trying to aim a bite at the other's muzzle. He was already at a disadvantage, if this stranger had his leg. He could see it now, red, with angry eyes, and some sort of things sticking out of it's head. His eyes widened, in a mix of fear and awe. He had never seen a beast like this before, and in his mind, this thing was going to kill him! Not that he knew that this hound had already set herself, in her mind, to do so.