Wanderings of two misguided ones

[Felypsa]

Did he have a choice? Did he ever have a choice? It wasn’t like he was ever going to see those two wolves again. They would assimilate into the pack, and he’d live on the fringes, avoiding wolves only when he felt the Wraith within him stir. He had up till then been unable to even maintain a simple acquaintance with any creature. Every time he tried, the Wraith would awaken, causing him to abruptly abandon them lest something even worse happen. As he had just done.

But was he too late? The Wraith was strong, so strong. It had smelled blood, It had sensed the beating of two hearts, and It demanded food. Fenrir fought It best he could, but every battle was harder than the last, and the Wraith was always get more powerful. Fenrir was strong too. But not always strong enough. This inner conflict was vicious, two minds clashing within a single body, fighting for control of that body. The Wraith shoved; Fenrir pushed back. The Wraith roared; Fenrir screamed. The Wraith inflicted pain; Fenrir resisted the effects.

Passerby might notice this massive wolf lunging to and fro, eyes rolling like mad, mouth frothing. Indeed, he seemed rabid and insane. But that was simply because the two entities within him were both fighting for control, but neither was winning now. How long this battle went on, neither could be sure. What mattered only was the victor.

Suddenly, a horrible shriek was torn from Fenrir’s body. It was a terrible howl that echoed in the suddenly-silent forest around him. Birds fled from the trees, squirrels dashed away as fast as their little feet could carry them, moles dug deep into the earth, away from the unearthly sound. Fenrir’s body collapsed. But it did not stay there for long. With a slight groan, he got up—but he seemed to grow even larger as he stood.

He grew and grew—and though Fenrir had been a massive wolf before, now he was nearly twice that size. His fangs elongated and dripped saliva. His tail lengthened and swung viciously, able to knock a creature out if he swung hard enough. But the most markedly different trait was his eyes…they were the color of freshly-spilt blood, a vivid, frightening crimson.

This beast—It was the Wraith, the evil spirit that resided within the benevolent Fenrir. It was the Hyde to Fenrir’s Jekyll. It had won this round, the first round in a long time. It snorted with satisfaction. Fenrir, It concluded, was getting weaker. Soon he would be gone altogether—leaving the Wraith alone to wander the earth, terrorizing its inhabitants.

The Wraith knew of two living, breathing creatures It could attack, maim, and eventually devour. It grinned maliciously, eager to have a little fun. Slowly at first, and then more quickly, It headed back to the Forest of Bamboo.

[glady]

Gladiator and Koko-Tala both walked further into the Forest of Bamboo, unaware of anything else but their surroundings. It was such a peaceful place, so serene.

"Such a beautiful place," Koko-Tala commented, looking around in awe. The bamboo stalks waved back and forth slightly as an occasional breeze came through the Forest.

"Yes," Gladiator murmured. He glanced around and then looked up at the sky. There was a hint of rain in the air. He scented the air, and could suddenly smell fear somewhere. He didn't know where, but wherever it was, it was close. "Come on, let's go further into here." He urged suddenly fearful of what it could be.

[Felypsa]

The beast known as the Wraith burst into the Forest of Bamboo. Its heightened sense of smell was able to detect the scents of Koko-Tala and Gladiator. It snorted slightly and followed the trail. They cannot escape from me! It exulted inwardly. It was already salivating with the prospect of a meal, of blood, of flesh, of marrow…

Subtlety was not the Wraith’s forte. It had never needed to employ it. It didn’t need a surprise attack to overpower Its prey. So the Wraith crashed through the forest, heedless of the bamboo stalks that It trampled on Its wayward path. It cared not for beauty or nature. It was going to get what It wanted.

It came upon the area where Gladiator and Koko-Tala were. It let out a savage roar that would shake to one’s very bones, and rushed at the two prey. Its eyes were glinting with bloodlust and malice. Its long, incredible sharp fangs were poised to tear into their flesh. First It went for Koko-Tala, the weaker of the two, and therefore the most fun to tear apart.