Post by tokarski on Jan 14, 2009 19:11:07 GMT -6
I wrote this for some contest on a website. On Wajas! Because it was fun, because I wnated to. I felt like posting it here to see what ya'll think. I think it's a bit too much. xD
[/blockquote][/blockquote]Mist rose from the ground, twining and spiraling around itself as it reached up deathly fingers to the moon. The trees were all bare, and not a sound was to be heard in the forest clearing. The silence was ominous, and the whole place seemed to be holding its breath and watching , waiting for a wrong move in which it could swallow one whole, send one into oblivion.
All focus that the ghostly graveyard of a forest had to give was at once transferred to a lone wolf, padding along a trail that ran through the forest. His eyes glowed in the dark light, and as a cloud passed over the moon, the forest stared at the newcomer with a hostile curiosity. The forest was hungry, and it was furious.
The wolf lifted its dark maw to the sky, and let out an earthly howl. The forest moaned with it, a bitterly cold breeze thrashing its way through to ruffle the wolf’s pelt as if in attempt to draw it into its dark depths, never to return. But the wolf had an odd aura about him, one of great power, something that the forest respected—yet feared as well. As his maw dropped, those horrible glowing eyes turned, their intensity all but cutting a path throught the dense mist.
The mist seemed to bow down to the femme that strolled through it, her head held up as if she were ruler of the world. A dark glimmer was housed in her eyes, and she looked rather sinister. At the sight of the male, her fur bristled, and she snarled, low and threatening. He crouched into the same position, an answering threat written in dark words all over him. The forest was holding its breath now, hungrily waiting for a fight, and the promise of blood and perhaps a death.
Both wolves felt the forest egging them on with a nefarious pleasure and greed. This was what the forest wanted. The wolves did not know it, but it was as if their souls were singing a contract, with a pen created from a feather off of the breast of Death itself. The wolves had not known what they had gotten themselves into, and no one could say it would be for the better if they had.
With a loud growl, the she-wolf launched herself at the male, her claws glinting in the sinister color of evil and menace. Her face, before coolly indifferent, had turned into that of a beast. Replying with the same sick gusto, the male wolf slashed at her exposed underbelly as she flew at him. From her belly spat out the hot liquid, and the scent that the forest so desired filled the air thickly.
The female wolf howled, angered, and leaped off the ground, landing with deadly accuracy on the male’s shoulders, and as she bent to dig her dagger-like teeth into his neck, he sun around, graceful, for such a being. She seemed to flat off his back, and her paws hit the ground with a soft thud, which one might have compared to the dying beat of a heart…
And so the dance continued. The dance of Death, a dance that greatly pleased the bloodthirsty forest. If any of the wolves had attention to spare, they would have been appalled at how the ground seemed to suck up the spilled blood. Soon, both wolves were panting, and the forest was getting impatient. The mist was now poking its fingers into the pelts of the wolves, eager for a quenched thirst.
Both wolves were standing tall, facing each other, breath coming in ragged gasps, and sides heaving. It had come to this stare down. But this story had a different twist. Sinister still, but yet the forest was unpleased. It wanted blood, it wanted the destruction of another life force.
But after this meeting would end, no life force would be extinguished, but a new one in the making. The forest would hunt down these two, who had betrayed his trust in them, trust that they would bring him what he wanted. Blood and death. But they had not. And the evil forest had a new thirst. A thirst for revenge. And he would get it. He swore, he would.