Monster, demon, a creature wrought from the deepest sins of hatred. A manifestation of evil intent and wretchedly cruel. She was an entity compromised of foul intentions with no glimmering chance of redemption. A wretch, a nightmare, a plague that infected the land with cynicism and utter cruelty. Not a single redeemable quality took root in her chest, not a single act of conscious and good will would be performed. A nightmare, pulled seemingly from hells gates, wrought in fire and misshapen. The dame would walk, the earth seeming to bend and tremble in an effort to fall out of her path. Along beside her a soft moment a flicker of flesh and fur would make itself known and then vanish back among the grass. A scampering, a soft scramble and it was easy to match the massive dame, if she could even be given a gender, with ease. His mistress was a great many things but rarely did she display speed. twisting and twining beneath her pads, avoided getting squished or stepped on, he weaved between her legs, uninhibited and without care. Finally... he leapt, catching her forelimb and digging his claws into her flesh. Banshee didn't pause. He scrambled up the appendage with ease, coiling down, sinking into the scruff of her fur, his own hollowed eyes boring out into the landscape. The rat was unimpressed and Banshee's chest rumbled, vibrating with the noise and fell silent. Wraith nipped absently at her scruff. Banshee's gait was slow and seemingly cumbered, this was a ruse of course, to make strangers think her deformations had crippled her. They were wrong, Banshee was a powerhouse of heavy muscle and wicked teeth, jagged and permanently stained a soft red from the amount of prey she had devoured... or merely killed. She had taken innocence, the life of pups, the life of expecting mothers. She had no morals, no soul was off limits. Her spine arched upwards and out, a deadly mockery of normalcy that crackled and snapped with every step she took. Her fur was a matted tangle of obsidian, missing entirely in some places revealing scale-like flesh beneath. Her eyes were hollow orbs of glassy white, burning in their intensity, no pupil could be seen, but the dame did not seem blind. She was grotesque and they tiny rat that clung to her like a vice, was in no better condition. She would stop, pillars of obsidian dragging her massive frame to a halt. Her head would careen to the right, watching...waiting. Wraith squirmed a top her back, peering into the forest, watching, waiting, the foreign scent drew closer... he wondered if this little red would be foolish enough to stumble upon the wolf... Speech,

Seraphim

i?m radioactive, radioactive

The white brute slunk slowly over the crest of the ravine, hoping here he would fine some solitude. Since he had been wandering these lands, he had been running into wolves, their scents, and pack scents everywhere. He really just wanted to be alone. Seraph was searching for something to eat and somewhere to sleep, and he wasn't in the mood to put up with any bullshit.



A horrid scent hit him suddenly and stopped him in his tracks. The large brute went rigid and raised his head, searching for its source. Green orbs fell on a huge mass of black fur. He knew by scent that it was another wolf, but it was atrocious. It looked mangled and scarred, and its size alone was enough to mistake it for a small bear from this distance. A second scent was mingled with the scent of the monstrosity, but it was too faint to discern what it was coming from. Seraph stared intently at the figure before him. He was too old to be naive enough to assume from the creature's appearance and movements that it wasn't dangerous. It could be injured, or it could just be demented.



Seraph recognized that he was in quite the predicament. This wolf was definitely larger than him, and judging by its appearance had been fighting quite a bit recently. He, on the other hand, was out of practice. Since he had been here, he hadn't had encounters that had pushed him to that point. If he was challenged, and this wolf was uninjured, he doubted he would make it through without serious, if not fatal, injuries. He was quite ready for that. He couldn't exactly avoid the wolf at this point though, either. His eyes narrowed in frustration. He would have to rely on wit to save him if it became an issue that he crossed paths with this creature.



His legs began to work again, at an easy pace. He carried himself toward a point ahead of the monstrous being, hoping to be able to cross it's path without issue and be on his way. He didn't want to get remotely close enough to even find out if it was male or female.

Tagged: Banshee | Word Count: 367

Banshee drew to a halt, massive pillars she doned her legs standing erect and strong. Massive limbs. Her spine would crack, bones snapping and crackling against one another before falling still and silent. her tail would hang limp, as always being abused by the breeze. Her head would careen to the right, hollowed white orbs starring out of her thick skull and waiting... waiting for the scent to draw closer, to come nearer. The massive obsidian dame was a loose cannon, completely unpredictable, there was a chance this stranger would slip right on past them and there was a chance Banshee would snap for their throat. It was all a waiting game with his mistress, Wraith cooed into one ebony ear, it flickered in its annoyance, the only movement the dame would make. He would appear pausing to look her over. The familiar sights of repulsion and horror drifted across his maw and had Banshee been a lesser creature, she would have grinned, alas, she was not, Wraith however, had no inhibitions. The rat screeched and fell to his back, cackling wildly, its high pitched, shrill tones erupting from its larynx like an explosion of noise, the tiny rat balanced precariously on her cranium. When finally he was able to regain himself, he twined his body around her ear, clutching the ebony appendage, his tail flopping lazily down her cheek. He drew closer and Wraith scampered, down her snout, resting and balancing precariously a mere centimeter away from her nose. Banshee, didn't so much as flinch. Not a twitch, not a movement, not a ripple of muscle, save for the gentle expansion and retraction of her rib cage. Wraith's claws tore into her sensitive flesh and wildly cackling, he leaned forward, ignoring the blood now oozing from his mistress. "Oh look at the pretty wolf love!" He crooned in a love-sick drawl. "Just like Snow White!" The nonsensical name would fall from the rats lips as the male grew closer before disintegrating into another round of rambunctious laughter. Banshee still had not moved, save for the slow turning of her cranium, watching, waiting, anticipating the males every move. Speech,

Seraphim

i?m radioactive, radioactive

The figure before him came to a slow halt, and as he came closer he recognized the form of a rat clinging to the beast. Even here, though, he could not discern whether a male or female stood before him. Seraph barely glanced at the pair, interested only in getting past them and moving on with his day. He had no interest in a potentially dangerous encounter with this wolf, and frankly he was a little irked by the idea that a wolf of that size and ability would keep such an inferior creature by its side.



It was when the rat spoke that Seraph came to another halt, only a few yards away. Snow White? He'd never heard of that before. His ears swiveled, irritated by the screeching voice of the rodent. He narrowed his eyes in frustration. It seemed that the atrocity the rat was perched atop of was not particularly interested in his passing, but the rat itself seemed all too interested in ruining his day. His voice rang out, powerful but lacking all emotion. He didn't have any particular emotions to be heard as it was. Why is it that you would keep such a vile little creature at your side, beast? You are clearly far too powerful for that pest.



Bottle green eyes pointedly focused on the white orbs of the wolf, ignoring its companion. He fully expected the rat to pipe up again but he would not hear it. Seraph was genuinely interested in the answer this beast would give, if it would give one at all. It seemed to him that this wolf, like himself, was not a particularly talkative one. He didn't mind that, so long as the brute did not attack him on impulse.



His face remained expressionless as he calculated what may happen next. It was possible that he could need to fight his way out, but there was also the chance he may be able to peacefully talk his way out of here. He wasn't one for flattery, unless with naive young females who were desperate for love and companionship. With this wolf, he would be only blunt and nothing more. If it was anything like him, that was the only way out alive.

Tagged: Banshee | Word Count: 375

Banshee had become a figure of utter stillness, save for the mass expansure and retraction of her chest, the dame did not move. Her stance heavy and broad, tail dangling to the floor, neither tucked nor pulled and haunting pale orbs, boring into her advisory. She was a statue, utterly blank and unreadable. Silent, unmoving, watching. Wraith would survey his mistress with something akin to intense curiosity and concentration, after a moment he deemed her current mood stable, but he had known his mistress far too long. She could snap like a twig in the blink of an eye. Unpredictable, mad, cruel... a shiver traced the length of his spine as he remembered all the hatred, all the foulness she had caused. God did he love her. Foolishly, the boy would speak and Wraith would jerk rather abruptly. he had been so entranced by his mistress, he had forgotten the young thing even lingered. Wraith shifted, pink tongue escaping his mouth ad licking his lips habitually. He shifted, constantly moved, hairless pink tail twitching this way and that, he was the only movement a top the great obsidian monstrosity. His ears however disconcerting to him, only made him cackle with laughter, such a high sound that even Banshee's ears swung backwards to pin against her cranium. "You question my mistress? I am her slave, her victim, her next meal, I am everything she wants me to be." The words were spoken in a calloused sneer. He would never know quite how true those words rang, Banshee had not always been the monster that stood before him now, at one point she had been Isabella... Isabella Breaux, but that creature, was long since dead. "Wraith... enough." Banshee's garbled English would slice through the air and the rat instantly grew still and quiet, scampering back up her maw to coil around one of her ears, watching intently. He shivered violently. Banshee's speech was broken, accentuated, rough. Each word punctuated like the crack of a whip. It was such a delectable treat and she so rarely did as such..."Perhaps I enjoy his company over others like you." her words were so utterly emotionless, she did not need to shout to instill fear the cracked, soulless vocals did that for her. Speech,

Seraphim

i?m radioactive, radioactive

Audits fell back against his head at the screeching of the rodent. He heard it, but did not discern it, lost in a train of thought of his own. He had never encountered a creature quite like this wolf in any respect, but he had encountered monsters in his life. Hell, he'd been one. Seraph had be raised to take over his pack as Alpha; a polite, well-mannered, fierce leader. But he had let that life go, given it away so that he could have the freedom he wanted. He hated other wolves. He hated packs and the control that came with them. All he'd ever wanted was life on his own and he'd gotten it, but it felt like something as missing. Well, he obviously wasn't going to find that something here.



Mind snapped back into the here and now as the beast's voice broke through the silence, if a voice was even what you would call it. It sounded like the embodiment of fear and evil. The words were broken and difficult to understand without listening carefully. It wasn't what he had expected (he'd anticipated the wolf saying nothing at all. A flash of surprise crossed his face, but no fear. Fear was something he'd left behind long ago, to be replaced by irritability and annoyance. His eyes remained narrow and focused on the wolf, paying no heed to its servant.



I can't blame you for that, I don't particularly enjoy the company of others myself. He spoke only the truth. He had actually been here trying to avoid that very thing today. However, I prefer no company at all. That was partially true. Lately, he had been finding himself craving companionship, but of a type that few would ever guess. He was, however, perfectly content on his own.



Seraph shifted slightly, adjusting his weight on his paws. Now was probably his best chance at taking his leave. Normally he wasn't one for manners, but this occasion called for something a little different from the norm. He figured that this wasn't a wolf he could simply walk away from, and if it as not keen on his leaving he would have to stay until it was. He guessed it probably was in a mental condition that matched his physical one, and chose to er on the side of caution. I will be continuing on my way now, if you don't mind.

Tagged: Banshee | Word Count: 403

Banshee could scarcely be considered a wolf at all. Her pelt was so wretchedly deformed, her gaze so hollow and cruel, her mind so twisted and sinister... what had happened to twist this creature into the demoness before him? She knew... or perhaps she didn't care to remember? Wraith remembered, he could still recall the horrible tortures that the woman had undergone. The pain the woman had endured on his behalf. She had risked everything to save his hide, he was undoubtedly indebted to her. His loyalty to the beast remained unwavering, just as his loyalties had been to Isabella. The massive obsidian dame shifted, her first sign of movement as she balanced out her weight, distributing it between all four of her limbs. Pupiless white oculars bore into the male before her, her polar opposite if such a thing existed. His pelt was of the purest ivory a stark contrast to her mangled fur of obsidian and dried blood, it was a look, however, that suited her. It matched the utter chill of her heart. Banshee would not speak again. Her larynx remained firmly still as he halfway agreed with her cold, broken words. Violently the dame would throw her head to the side and the answering crack of her spinal column would echo all the way to her tail. Wraith giggled incessantly from his perch atop her back. That had been all the ok the rodent needed, Banshee had dismissed the male, he no longer held her attention nor her interest, despite the fact that those hollowed orbs remained trained upon him. he knew the male was no longer worthy of her speech, but God... how he wished she would speak again. He loved her voice, he loved the broken syllables and the punctuated vowels! Oh... to hell with it, he just loved her. Releasing the heavy black appendage of her ear he scampered down her heavy snout once more, perching upon the obsidian nose and leaning forward an insane cackle upon his lips. "Aww whats a matter Snow White? Leaving so soon? But the fun has only just begun!" The rat would shriek before deteriorating into a loud bout of laughter, falling onto his back as he laughed manically into the air. Speech,

Seraphim

i?m radioactive, radioactive

ooc;; Sorry this will be short, I don't have much muse ATM!




Green orbs focused on the monstrous being, wondering how it became that way. Clearly it had a past that had shaped and molded it, and that past was obviously a brutal and difficult one. He wondered what and who this wolf had been before it morphed into the beast that it was now. He felt a small amount of pity for the creature, but did not allow it to show. Showing pity for it could cost him his life.



Again, he ignored the words of the rat (although he still wondered about this "Snow White"). He gave a brief nod to the wolf before him, and spoke as he turned and began to move forward again. I have a feeling we'll run into each other again, he stated matter-of-factly. It was true. Something told him that this wasn't the last time he would encounter this wolf, but the circumstances of that next meeting were entirely questionable. He decided not to dwell on it as he carried himself away from the beast and its wretched companion.



-Exit Seraphim-

Tagged: Banshee | Word Count: Few :(