|
Post by shadow on Jan 14, 2012 20:22:10 GMT -5
Lyana prowled around the Old Mill, looking for dinner. The moonlight shone through cracks and tears in the ceiling, casting eerie shadows but letting in just the right amount of light. This was Lyana's favorite hunting spot. Not many wolves chose to prowl around here, so there was no threat of getting in a confrontation, and there was always a plentiful supply of food.
Lyana kept her ears pricked and her eyes open. It was times like this that her half blindness almost seemed to help her, blending the shadows with the light in a way that almost made them less distracting. She heard the squeaks of rats and possums and raccoons, but decided that she was feeling more in the mood for the chickens that sometimes wandered in here. She quickly located a faint clucking and headed toward it silently, her dark coat making her almost invisible in the shadows.
She could see the bird in a matter of moments. She was about to pounce when she heard something that sounded like the careless scrape of claws on the ground. Apparently, the chicken heard it too, because the next thing Lyana knew it was bolting for the exit. The dark she wolf darted for it, but the bird had a head start and got away. Lyana growled angrily, she had just lost her dinner because some idiot wasn’t sensible enough to watch what they were doing.
Lyana sighed. Well, someone was obviously there, so why not see who? The black and purple wolf sat on her haunches and lifted her muzzle a little so her voice would carry better. “Okay, I know that someone’s there. Would you please show yourself? It’s alright, I mean you no harm.” Well, maybe the last statement might have been a lie, but no need for the other wolf to know that.
|
|
|
Post by oatmeal on Jan 16, 2012 3:27:19 GMT -5
[style=font: 16px Georgia serif; letter-spacing: 2px; margin: 0px 50px -10px 35px; font-weight: bold; color: #1c1c1c; text-align: right;]gregory carver [style=background: #FFF; opacity: .3; margin: 15px; border-radius: 10px; padding: 5px; color: #000; text-align: justify; font: 11px calibri; letter-spacing: 1px; line-height: 120%;]Gregory had staked out this place as his own, among a few other wolves. He tended to live in such a way that when he found a favorable place, he stayed for awhile. The reason was partly because he didn't move quickly himself and partly because of his nature. He was a calm wolf who, except for the moments when he would kill another wolf because it seemed necessary, lived a peaceful life. His assassinations were quiet affairs as well, for the most part. He was a tidy, meticulous and no-nonsense. A death was a slash across the throat. It had rained recently, the summer storm forcing him to seek shelter in the mill. The mill had dried mostly, though small, shady areas still had puddles of standing water.
His scythes had taken down a raccoon a few days ago. All it took was something shiny and the wolf sitting motionless while the bandit's curiosity got the better of him. Then, he simply cut the beast asunder. The meal was in his belly, completely digested and all that was left from this hunt was the bones and the hide of the creature. In any case, the important thing was that now, he needed to care for the long blades on the ends of his forelegs. Gregory Carver never allowed them to become dull. He moved on the backs of his knuckles, his scythes curled up, almost parallel to the long bones of his forelegs. He had silent steps. Careful, quiet, dangerous. He found a stone to whet his knives, moist from the rain, but good to use.
He placed one foreleg on top of the stone to anchor it. He then bent the other leg and leaned toward that side while his scythe opened up. Carefully, he put the base of it, close to where it attached on his foreleg, on the stone. Then he pulled his scythe towards him quickly. He moved with the confidence of a fiddler with his bow, with the certainty. He made a scraping noise as he sharpened his blade. When he finished that leg, he worked on the other. The normally silent movements of the wolf was now the sound of scratchy nails, loud upon the stone, something that didn't belong in the wilderness. The prey animals were frightened as the treacherous blades sang their song, many bolted. Only the most curious stayed, or the ones who grew accustomed to Gregory's habits.
Apparently, there was a wolf who couldn't ignore the scraping of his claws. The female called out in the moonlight. Her body made a long shadow across the floor. Gregory lifted his head at the sound of her voice, pricked his ears. He folded his scythes back, stood on his forelegs, stiff as stilts. And moved silently toward her.
His midnight blue fur made nice camouflage in the night. The stripes of his hindquarters broke up the shape of him, but his white underbelly seemed like a slip of a ghost floating in the darkness. Gregory stopped as he neared her. His hairless forelegs, comfortable in the softness of the summer's night, did not shiver but supported him with sureness. His newly sharpened blades looked bright and clean, tools at the ready. Yellow eyes gleamed over the female's black and purple form, sitting and waiting for his arrival. She hid nicely in the night as well. Better than he, perhaps.
Gregory made a small, affirming motion of his head, the tidiest salutation. He accompanied it with an introduction, polite as ever. "My name is Gregory." He had learned manners from years of being denied it. Instead of the brutal upbringing creating a brutal wolf, it made a meticulous, careful wolf who wore an almost constant poker-face. Even now he wore no expression when greeting the female, but had polite and cautious posture. [style=margin: 3px 5px 0px; border-top: 1px dotted #464646; padding-top: 2px; padding-left: 3px;]Words: six hundred forty Tag: lyana Notes: Gregory is, as always, Mr. Polite. Oh, and the careless scrape was simply him sharpening his claws ^_^ [/style][/style][/style]
|
|
|
Post by shadow on Jan 16, 2012 12:00:57 GMT -5
Lyana didn't quite know what to make of the wolf that came out of the shadows and introduced himself as Gregory. With the exception f his front legs he looked normal enough, and his voice was polite. But the long blades and hairless legs threw her off. 'Probably just a mutation, but it's sure the strangest I’ve ever seen' she thought to herself. The blades were so long and sharp looking though and Lyana was starting to think twice about pouncing on this wolf for making her lose her dinner. If it had been any other wolf, maybe but defiantly not this one.
Luckily for her, this wolf looked a little timid, and didn’t come too close. Lyana didn’t know wither it was because he didn’t want to get those claws dirty or just because he didn’t want to fight, but she was going to play it safe this time and try not to find out. She dipped her head politely and introduced herself, matching his politeness. “I’m Lyana. Now, it you don’t mind me asking, was it you that was the one making the scraping noise?” She was careful to say it in a way that he wouldn’t take offence, or at least she hoped he wouldn’t.
Either way, she was making multiple plans in her head. She knew all the escape routes like the back of her paw, and figured that either of the two behind her would do for an easy quick escape. They were both a little small and her horns might get caught, but she had a feeling that with those blades this wolf wouldn’t be able to get through easily either. However, there was a possibility that there would be no time for running if he chose to fight. In that case then the simplest plan was to avoid his blades at any cost and go for the throat or underbelly, probably the latter since it was so easy to see.
Still, Lyana wasn’t above talking with this wolf; although, the probability of making friends was a bit slim. A bit of company wouldn’t be so bad she supposed, depending on what he was like behind that mask he was wearing it might even be an enjoyable night. Lyana didn’t get her hopes up though, her golden eyes flashing in the light. A friend was a bit much to hope for. “Are you hungry? Would you like to hunt with me?” To be honest, she didn’t know what possessed her to ask, but she decided to go with it. Besides, she was still hungry and if she could use him to get her meal then that was fine with her.
|
|