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Post by Hellfire on Dec 23, 2011 22:16:39 GMT -5
The sun had just set, and the moon had risen to it's thrown to crown the sky with it's majesty. It cast down a gloomy shadow that left the brute that traveled through the lands to follow his instincts. In a shadow he slipped through the ghost like buildings of the abandoned Fairgrounds. He raised his stripped head, a gleam appearing in his optics. He had an idea. The brute had been the leader of a pack long ago, but that pack had betrayed him. His queen, his love, had been slaughtered by none other than himself. His pups, they had been killed as well. By him. Their innocent blood was on his paws, and no one else's. He was just trying to please his father. His father wished it to be done so it was done. And then there was Hell's Realm. Those fools just bickered, and fought, and he was constantly having to play a coach. He had to break up their pitiful fights instead of focusing on the pack's needs. He finally left the dying pack lands, bitterness driving him away. He often wondered how his new love was doing. Her calling was Azkadellia. That femme had gained his trust, and understanding; yet a demon had possessed her.
With a determined sigh he shook the though from his head, and stretched his large black wings. He had made up his mind. He was claiming these lands. His gold optics settled on a pile of boxes. Gaining momentum, he threw his large frame upon the make shift platform, and tossed back his black dome. His jowls dropped open, and his mouth formed the perfect howl. A sullen song lifted from his vocal cords, ringing loud and true. I claim these lands! They shall be called il dimenticato! 'The Forgotten... And that was it. The ending note was more of a sob, one that was meant to be mournful. He dropped his head, his eyes closing for a moment as he stood still, and took in his surroundings. Yes, this would be a fresh start. [/blockquote] |
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