Bloodloss

[Viktor]

For months he had travelled, over burning sands, parched plains, dark woodlands and bitterly cold highlands. He and his kind were travellers now, wanderers, with no home to go back to. The lands of Rurita called to these nomads... and they had come...

He was one of the first to arrive. The stranger with the pitch- black pelt kept himself to himself. His past history was forgotten now... all that mattered was the present...

Dusk was aptly named. Both his fur and his soul was dark. A black wolf, with an even blacker heart. But now Dusk shook off his sins, as he approached this new territory...

The forest was gloomy in the half- light, the strange time in the evening when the sun was falling and the moon was rising, causing shadows and shapes to shift and flicker. A supernatural time. Night-fall. A time when Dusk felt quite at home...

Cold blue eyes glittered in the darkness, and the wolf paced forewards silently. He had not yet come across any of his Keztec bretheren, but he didn't care. It was better that all his history was lost, along with his home, and his sins...

He paused, and sat, his ebony fur rippling in the slight breeze that swept over the darkened woodlands. With a sigh, he dropped to the ground, and lay, watching the moon peeping over the forest's thick canopy, and listening to the sounds of the night...

[Inak]

(( Cute wolf. ^^ I'd post but Hawk isn't accepted yet. ))

[Toksyc]

//pisca


Pisca was no stranger to the Deep Forest, he just didn't like it much. Nor did the Aryians, which was why none of them really claimed it as part of their territory. It was slightly difficult to step around the Aryians boundries to get to it, but managable. Someone had to check it every now and then for dangers lurking that could harm either allied pack, and Pisca took it upon himself to venture into the darker, quieter reaches this time.

Yes, there was always a risk of running into loners with bad attitudes, loners that were far more strong than he was, and even the occasional oddity that might wander out of the depths of the Paradise that no sane wolf would go to. But this was Pisca, he was famous for taking risks and handling danger very well. He was the wolf who came back from the dead, the little Omega who never fit in that became Beta.

Little, indeed. Pisca was short and a bit stocky like his Whiteback blood is supposed to be. The adolescent pups of Bloodback were already taller than he was, and the new Keztecs that were arriving towered him as well. Little or not, he simple screamed not to be messed with. Scars lined his throat, still pink with healing. Parts of his maw were scarred, and his ear flopped about uselessly from being broken. But it wasn't his appearance, simply his aura. It was a calm and peaceful aura that demanded respect and obedience.

He trotted at a mile-eating pace that wouldn't tire him until he reached the darkness of the forest, and there he slowed to a steady and cautious walk, all senses alert, and muscles tensed to spring, fight, or run. Several scents entered his nostrils, most old and dead, some belonging to other creatures he didn't care about, but one... one was fresh, and distinctly Wolf. Distinctly different, too.

Like that Keztec smell... the Ocean?

Curiously he followed it, hoping this would be a friend, not foe. His steps were quiet, almost soundless if it weren't for the debris littering the forest floor. When finally the sight of the scent caught his eyes, he was a bit taken aback. Pitch black wolves were not that common in Ruritia. The darkest they got was a dark ashey grey. Hell... the last pitch black wolf he had seen was Shadow. A pang of sadness entered his belly, but he pushed it aside and stepped forward a bit.

"Stranger, I cry peace. I am Pisca, Beta of the Bloodbacks of the Mountains, and it is my duty to patrol these forests for dangers. Are you friend or foe?"

His voice was light, and though he held himself guarded, he offered no threat to the black wolf. Golden eyes watched the black one carefully. The two were a striking difference. Pisca, almost all white, and the stranger, completely black.

[Viktor]

Dusk

Aye, Dusk loved the moon. He was not a sentimental being, indeed, he despised those who were. But, when you are alone, you need something to turn to, to find comfort in. For Dusk, this was the moon, and he liked nothing better to be sleeping under it's pale glow. Now, however, the light was feeble, blocked by the trees. It looked like, for now, this would be his home. It was neutral territory, so he didn't have to worry about encroaching on pack territory. Indeed, Dusk didn't want anything to do with them. A lone wolf he was, and a lone wolf he would remain...

A soft voice interupted his thoughts, and his head snapped up, instantly alert, his cold blue eyes analysing the stranger that spoke to him, calculating his size and appearance in one quick glance.

"Stranger, I cry peace. I am Pisca, Beta of the Bloodbacks of the Mountains, and it is my duty to patrol these forests for dangers. Are you friend or foe?"

Ahh, that was right. This wolf was high up in the ranks, he smelled of authority. A pity, Dusk would have prefered it if it were a low ranking wolf, whom which he would make very sorry for disturbing him. However, it was not wise to ruffle a high- ranking wolf's fur, as they held the strength of the pack behind them, to a certain extent. Beta? Well, second in command, and that was enough for Dusk to make his descision.

Dusk was a good actor. He could be silky smooth, hiding his black nature. So, when he looked up at the stocky little wolf that spoke to him, his eyes were twinkling with a rogue-ish charm, his muzzle creasing into an appealing grin. Dusk meant no harm to the Beta, simply because of his powerful rank. Besides, he had a warm personality, not dislikable. But then, Dusk would always be a loner, and always antisocial, inside...

"Greetings, Beta of the Bloodbacks. I am Dusk, Keztec loner. And I am a friend, at least, to you, good sir" he answered silkily...