Cry 'Havoc!' and let slip the dogs of war There was blood in the throes of the sunset and the taste of change in the vigorous wind. It left a pleasurable sense of urgency in the beast, for he knew the sensations of chaos when he found them. He had left Fyre a land over as the Ancora descendant stalked his prey further then he had intended. His desires had originated from his stomach in this instance, but the second a scent was caught on the wind it would become something entirely different and all too familiar driving him onward. A wicked grin curved his lips in an unpleasant snarl as he raised his head to the wind and closed his eyes, taking in the perfect aroma of a bitch in heat. He continued his silent movements after that, he still stalked his prey, even if it was of a different ilk. The scent led him to a small stream that ran through the territory, and the perfection of his timing would be illustrated as the object of his attention moved herself into the body of water.he watched from the bushes as the woman slid surely and easily into the liquid. There was a nobility in her movements that piked his curiosity, something that spoke of a lineage he had not expected from a wolf with no borders. For a third time his intentions changed, he would not terrorize this wolf, well, not yet at least, first he would learn from her. He moved from behind the shrubbery with deliberate movements, hiding the subterfuge in a heartbeat. His movements assured and proud, the grin upon his muzzle was boyish, with an impish quality. He looked for all the world like a proud stallion, aware of his worth and lineage, yet not... too proud, there was a quality of a trouble maker in him of one not afraid to get into a little trouble and have some fun. He slipped into the facade so easily, after all there was so much of his true self already there in the disguise. After all, wasn't that essential ingredient of every lie? A hint of truth. “I've seen plenty of rogues in my time” he said conversationally as he brought himself to the edge of land, his reflection rippling in the gentle waves and among the colors of the bloody sunset. “But I dare say you don't look like one” he continued, the impish touch in his tones brought a life to luminescent green orbs. "Talk" "You" Think

Surreal Adravendi

Her paws were tired, but at least the long walk back was over with. She had paused at the borders of her home, taking careful sniffs of the stink left by the invaders before circling southward until her paws graced the Estuary. She wasted little time in slipping into the nearest water source. Thus far, no extra scent had been left by the vermin that had cropped up in her home. She was in a bad enough mood regarding them that she’d consider tearing into one of them if they showed their faces. Regulus had gathered the family and moved them to the Estuary for the time being, giving her time to think, and to plan. But her alone time would be quickly cut short, as a male voice drawled behind her. She straightened, turning to regard the male swaggering to the shore of the water with cool alertness. She had little doubt that he must have caught her scent. “I am, for now, a rogue. But I don’t intend to stay one for much longer, if I can help it.” Mismatched blue and gold gaze ran over his frame, her head cocking slightly. Something about his build seemed familiar. The markings, as well, though she hadn’t met him before. He was younger than herself, perhaps by several years. Her mind wandered to Creed, until the niggling suspicion settled into a guess that he might be related. A cousin, maybe? She continued to study the young male. but made no move to leave the water. The cool liquid was helping to ease the fire in her loins, and she might be able to resist biting someone’s face off out of sheer frustration. “May I ask what brings you this way?” She decided to strike up a conversation, despite the prickling sense in her hackles that said to step carefully. She’d heed those warnings, and give him a wide berth until he could prove that he was even remotely trustworthy to her. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Cry 'Havoc!' and let slip the dogs of war His wicked grin was withheld as she straightened in surprise and turned to face him. He gained a perverse pleasure in catching her unawares and it took effort in keeping his grin light and welcoming. There was only so much of himself he could allow to be shown before the facade was destroyed by the blood lust that overruled all other charms the boy might possess. Who he had chosen to be to this unknown strangers came from a complex understanding of his prey. Knowing people was his business, and he immediately caught the independent streak and pride of the woman before him. It was in her manner, and her tone and even the words she spoke. He had started off down the right track, his impression that she did not belong to the rogue world seemed to have hit a nerve. She spoke like one denied a birth right and determined to put herself where she belonged, how would find a way into her confidence? That was a complex question to which he was still creating the layers. She was in heat and prideful, and what woman couldn't resist a dashing exotic prince who's alignment bordered on heroic? Of course the heroic side this time would have to be downplayed, subtle but reliable, the stubborn set of her face told him pushing that would be a mistake. Even as she spoke to him, he created himself, and as he drew a paw through the darkening water, eyes flashing upwards at her with what could easily be described as a familiar impish set of his orbs he would speak. “No, I don't imagine you would remain” he said simply, grinning conspiratorially at her. “I'm in... what you could call a temporary exile, well I learn my strengths and place of the world. To learn about the people you could say, even through this isn't my land or even my island. Say, you wouldn't know of any deeds that needed doing for a young man in need of proving himself would you?” he winked at her then, taking in a breath of the fresh air and the delightful aroma of her season. Ahh, he would have to be careful to control himself, one couldn't sample the wares until he owned then, after all, or the game would be given away. "Talk" "You" Think

Surreal Adravendi

The fellow wasn’t put off by her lack of interest, it seemed. Her cool demeanour didn’t lift, though she turned herself to better face him, hind legs shifting subtly under the water to better gain her weight, and the power for a spring should her new acquaintance give her a reason. The impish grin and bravado in his actions brought a raised brow, one ear shifting back as she listened to him and his enquiry of deeds to be done. “What was your exile for?” Had this exile been self imposed, or was he thrown out for a crime, and exiled from his home? He wasn’t from here, that much he’d said. Far from prideful, she was actually humble, proud of her family and the enduring nature of the Adravendis. She wanted to make a home for her family, a pack that would be a pillar to the land, as Valhalla had once been for so long. His sniffs of the air weren’t missed, and she made her disinterest in him in that respect clear, turning her head away from him, letting a bored expression flutter over her face. It might deter him, or it might only give him the impression that she was playing hard to get, or was even more interesting for the refusal. She had a mate already. However, he felt like the kind of male that could be an asset. Unattached to her, not a scent that had been a part of the plains, though she thought she might have caught wind of him before a while back, with another male. “I could be in need of a mercenary. If you are a strong fighter, there might be a place for you in the pack I intend to raise in the Plains, to the north of here.” Mismatched blue and gold gaze locked with his green one, intent, powerful. “You seem like the more chaotic type, one for whom rules are merely a trivial irritation. Would I be right?” She may have broken rules, but the last time she could remember ever breaking a rule was when she’d been a pup, wandering a bit too far from home. She wouldn’t have ever met Creed, though, if she had not. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Cry 'Havoc!' and let slip the dogs of war Her movements where subtle and carefully made, but the shifting of the water gave her away. It was clear to him that she was not wholly comfortable in his presence, and another rush of pleasure touched his veins at even the slightest tells of discomfort. His blood was on fire, euphoria danced in liquid flames through his thoughts. There truly was no excitement to him quite as beautiful as playing his victim with a fine touch, leading them to their disaster. She would ask him about his 'exile' and he titled his head, his expression almost like that of a curious pup “It's a right of passage to my people. They-- we, believe in learning of the land and its inhabitants, only I took mine a step further and moved on to lands we have never explored before” it was a lengthy explanation that started him down the path of forming his character as more then just a figure, but a person to his victim. Her lack of interest infuriated him, turning her head from him, her expression detached and bored. It riled him up, the fire in his blood ran cold. Without even knowing it, she played a dangerous game, rejection was an invitation to the Tyrant and it was difficult to keep his game in play. Stalking her from the shore as he did, he analysed the best ways to ambush her, to sink his teeth into her skull and do with her whatever he wished, he judged which ways might catch her unawares, give him the advantage in a struggle. The morbid planning calmed him until at last he could look on in mental detachment and listen to her words. The picture she painted of him, wasn't the one he put out there and he tilted his head. He had given nothing away, at the very most she could have caught a hint of irritation in green tinged orbs, which easily could have been mistaken for a man forced to take in the scent of a woman in heat. No, there was nothing chaotic in the picture he painted with both words and subtle gestures and posturing. “That could sound like an interesting proposition, but rules are a part of a deep foundation, it is to better understand some of the rules we govern by that my people started the tradition that brought me here” he said meekly, his titled head and bright eyes portrayed an innocence of youth he had not felt in years. "Talk" "You" Think