The grasses whisper of a king.
12-18-2016, 01:23 PM
Winter, Year 8.
I seemed to wander for what felt like days upon end, although I had smelled the wolves before I reached the area I hadn’t seen a single one. Why, I wasn’t quite sure. Had the lands been abandoned recently, was it a cursed region? Had I stumbled upon a war? With what little vision I had from my left eye, it had replaced itself with a much more fine tuned version of the world within my right. One could not explain what I had been through during my time alive, words could not express my experiences within the world as we wolves know it. Where most would see a herd of deer as nothing more than a source of food, I saw it as an opportunity to create a kingdom. To rule over a group that had natural fear of myself. A natural instinct to run away. I had noticed that after slaying the great black Stag, the other deer seemed to respect me, perhaps even fear me. In fact, I know it was a mixture of both. After I left the herd due to it’s decrease of numbers I battled anyone who stood in my way, taking out others with no care in the world. It didn’t matter if they had children, a mate, or were trying to become an Alpha. I didn’t care. I had been humiliated once, but no, never again would I feel that horrid ping from embarrassment. I wanted the whole entire world to quake with fear when I walked through an area. I wanted others to run and hide in fear that I too, may take their life, just like I would take anyone’s. Although despite my love for ruling and for battle, I made it a point to never put myself in a position in which I may find myself near deaths’ door. I wanted to live forever, at least as a legend. As the Stag King. I may have not been a deer by any means, with my sharp teeth and thick fur, but they respected me as if I were one of them. Perhaps it wasn’t even respect. Maybe it was fear. Perhaps it was fear that caused them to listen to my every command, whatever it was, I lived for it. I had heard of wolves being able to steak claim for packs in this area, being allowed to rule how they pleased. I would soon again be a King. I wanted to feel that feeling again when I was allowed to yell or tear into someone simply because I could. I wanted to have the right to rule how I wanted to rule, I didn’t want to have to listen to anyone. And I wouldn’t. I had grown up as the best fighter in my group, the absolute uncontested best. That was until Stormer came into season, rumors of her attraction to me had spread far and wide. Pulling wolves in from unknown location, from places we never knew to even exist. The infamous son of the Tooth line had come into age to take a mate. That alone placed fear in the hearts of others, it was that intense fear from communities that I strived for. It was exact what made, I, White Tooth, a King of all sorts. I could fight well, heal well, but I was intelligent more than anything. Because of my large amount of intelligence I knew what move a wolf was going to make in a battle before they even moved, it was predictable really. Although here I was, wandering aimlessly in a.. Field? An empty, shade free, field. It was then that the scent of another reach my nose along with an oddly colored figure. This wolf before me, it was green? How odd. How peculiar. Back in the providence that I hailed from wolves were nothing but natural colors, this being looked to be entirely fake. I scoffed at this beings appearance, who even was this? She smelled as if she had just had a litter, ah, so she was a mother? Well respected in my book, it wasn’t easy to have a child. Let alone 2 or 3. Whoever she was she had a bit of respect from me for that at least, thus due to her travelling scent, I wouldn’t pick a fight with her. Perhaps I could use her condition to my advantage? If it had been an uncontested breeding, maybe she was looking for solace? Perhaps she’d willingly follow me into oblivion? “Why hello there, you are in the presence of the Stag King… Who are you?” ?” Did this wolf know who I was, did she know who she was speaking to? I was the great, mighty, powerful Stag King. The ruler of the deer, the animal that gave us wolves our food. Our source of life. Without the deer we’d all certainly starve. Hopefully she wouldn’t start a fight with me, she may be a mother but I would crush her just the same. Although a part of me found myself wanting to.. Coddle her? Treat her like my dear, dear sister that I left behind. Maybe it was because her pregnancy had just ended, my darling sister was close to giving birth to my nieces and nephews before I fled the kingdom. I wonder daily about how she may be doing.. Does she have a good husband, is she the Queen now? So many questions remained unanswered for me. Either way, that was in the past. I needed to place my focus on the female before me, for if she decided to fight it was a fight she would have. I pushed the thoughts of my family to the back of my head, my shoulders tensing causing my build to go rigid. My eyes scanned over her, reading her, trying to calculate her next move.
I seemed to wander for what felt like days upon end, although I had smelled the wolves before I reached the area I hadn’t seen a single one. Why, I wasn’t quite sure. Had the lands been abandoned recently, was it a cursed region? Had I stumbled upon a war? With what little vision I had from my left eye, it had replaced itself with a much more fine tuned version of the world within my right. One could not explain what I had been through during my time alive, words could not express my experiences within the world as we wolves know it. Where most would see a herd of deer as nothing more than a source of food, I saw it as an opportunity to create a kingdom. To rule over a group that had natural fear of myself. A natural instinct to run away. I had noticed that after slaying the great black Stag, the other deer seemed to respect me, perhaps even fear me. In fact, I know it was a mixture of both. After I left the herd due to it’s decrease of numbers I battled anyone who stood in my way, taking out others with no care in the world. It didn’t matter if they had children, a mate, or were trying to become an Alpha. I didn’t care. I had been humiliated once, but no, never again would I feel that horrid ping from embarrassment. I wanted the whole entire world to quake with fear when I walked through an area. I wanted others to run and hide in fear that I too, may take their life, just like I would take anyone’s. Although despite my love for ruling and for battle, I made it a point to never put myself in a position in which I may find myself near deaths’ door. I wanted to live forever, at least as a legend. As the Stag King. I may have not been a deer by any means, with my sharp teeth and thick fur, but they respected me as if I were one of them. Perhaps it wasn’t even respect. Maybe it was fear. Perhaps it was fear that caused them to listen to my every command, whatever it was, I lived for it. I had heard of wolves being able to steak claim for packs in this area, being allowed to rule how they pleased. I would soon again be a King. I wanted to feel that feeling again when I was allowed to yell or tear into someone simply because I could. I wanted to have the right to rule how I wanted to rule, I didn’t want to have to listen to anyone. And I wouldn’t. I had grown up as the best fighter in my group, the absolute uncontested best. That was until Stormer came into season, rumors of her attraction to me had spread far and wide. Pulling wolves in from unknown location, from places we never knew to even exist. The infamous son of the Tooth line had come into age to take a mate. That alone placed fear in the hearts of others, it was that intense fear from communities that I strived for. It was exact what made, I, White Tooth, a King of all sorts. I could fight well, heal well, but I was intelligent more than anything. Because of my large amount of intelligence I knew what move a wolf was going to make in a battle before they even moved, it was predictable really. Although here I was, wandering aimlessly in a.. Field? An empty, shade free, field. It was then that the scent of another reach my nose along with an oddly colored figure. This wolf before me, it was green? How odd. How peculiar. Back in the providence that I hailed from wolves were nothing but natural colors, this being looked to be entirely fake. I scoffed at this beings appearance, who even was this? She smelled as if she had just had a litter, ah, so she was a mother? Well respected in my book, it wasn’t easy to have a child. Let alone 2 or 3. Whoever she was she had a bit of respect from me for that at least, thus due to her travelling scent, I wouldn’t pick a fight with her. Perhaps I could use her condition to my advantage? If it had been an uncontested breeding, maybe she was looking for solace? Perhaps she’d willingly follow me into oblivion? “Why hello there, you are in the presence of the Stag King… Who are you?” ?” Did this wolf know who I was, did she know who she was speaking to? I was the great, mighty, powerful Stag King. The ruler of the deer, the animal that gave us wolves our food. Our source of life. Without the deer we’d all certainly starve. Hopefully she wouldn’t start a fight with me, she may be a mother but I would crush her just the same. Although a part of me found myself wanting to.. Coddle her? Treat her like my dear, dear sister that I left behind. Maybe it was because her pregnancy had just ended, my darling sister was close to giving birth to my nieces and nephews before I fled the kingdom. I wonder daily about how she may be doing.. Does she have a good husband, is she the Queen now? So many questions remained unanswered for me. Either way, that was in the past. I needed to place my focus on the female before me, for if she decided to fight it was a fight she would have. I pushed the thoughts of my family to the back of my head, my shoulders tensing causing my build to go rigid. My eyes scanned over her, reading her, trying to calculate her next move.
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