Give me a Taste of Home

The misty moors that the Syndicate band finds themselves setting up home in seem to be the physical manifestation of what the Saxe individuals themselves are. The low hanging mists that swirl about ground, obscure the vegetation that covers the earth from the prying eyes of all those who traverse the land and there is a strange, mystical beauty that many may over look. Now, darkness reigns in the absence of the sun and it is the time when the monsters come out to play.

Yet, the silver goddess that rules the time known as night has seen fit to grace the lawless heathens of the lands below with staggering light show, her own silvery rays amplified as ribbons of blue, purple, and green dance to a rhythm that only they are able to hear. Far below this heavenly spectacle, Ezekiel sits in the mist shrouded moors, quietly examining the phenomena with a sense of reverence in his blue and purple eyes.

While he may be a beast, a heathen, and even deranged, the young man also knows beauty when he sees it and this display touches something buried deep inside him. A summons, sung into the still night air, pulls his attention from the heavens, back down to the world around him and a smile ghosts across his lips as he recognizes his sister’s wish that has been given up to the air. Without hesitation he stands and sets off, the foggy moor welcoming him by wrapping its ghostly tendrils around his muscular form.

With an ease born from endless training and countless fights, Zeke covers the distance that separates him from the only wolf that means the world to him. The mist shifts, depositing the purple-hued brute before his sibling with only the lightest of paw steps to mark his arrival. Up above the siblings, a bright, vivid purple writhes across the sky, touched by an electric blue that fades into a candy apple green. The ribbons slowly dance, their colors morphing and lightening one second only to darken and fade in the next.

Ezekiel offers his sister a knowing smirk as he falls into his defensive stance, the reason for the summons already known to him and the young man is excited for the return to the familiar roots of his youth. Like the celestial display above, this is a dance that has taken place countless times before and will continue for years to come. Without so much as a sound, he takes off, launching himself across the distance that divides the two, ready to draw blood and have his own spilled in the familiar test of might and skill.

Hackles raised, ears pinned back, eyes narrowed, tail straight back for balance, the basics that had been drummed into him until the familiar mantra had forced his body to learn them without the need to even think about it. As Ze approaches El, the young man aims to get in close and attempt a bite the side of her neck while using his taller form to press her back and keep the advantage on his side.




WC: 519
Total WC: 819/1500


"Ely & Ezekiel"