Today, February 22nd, 2014, was the day the Vikings predicted to be Ragnarok. So, in being my awesome self, I decided to make this thread. And yes, I am aware there is a comic book involving a rock star Loki with the same title. Of course I am.

The blazing sun was tempered by the heavy cloud cover in the skies, but the ebony bitch had found herself wandering into the range of an immense volcano, where it was hot whether it was winter or summer. Broad paws struck the rocky terra with near to no sound, save for the raspy clatter of sharp pebbles tumbling down the mountainside. The masked femme was quite bored, she was in need of someone to talk to, or something to do. The phantom swish of her tail across her heels went ignored as always, because she was aloof to the fact that wolves were meant to have tails, and a wolf without one is never going to be the same as one with a tail. Mismatched optics of fire and ice glinted in the low light as she stepped silently through the shadows of a group of boulders lodged into the mountainside. The soldier could easily be taken as frightening, with her fangs poking out naturally from beneath her upper lip, her emotionless expression as she wandered, and the rippling muscles beneath her thick obsidian pelt. Long legs would carry her easily up the mountainside, towards the mouth at the top of the volcano, where a glittering mist of heated illusions captured the beastly lady's attention. Soon she stood at the lip of the volcano, looking into the miasma of lava boiling hundreds of feet below and begging to be expelled in a violent spewing of fiery death. Her one eye, her right eye, nearly mirrored the pool below, except it held more crimson tinges. Pale silvery mask caught the faint light created by the pool, and seemed brighter against her jet fur. Turning about, she returned to the mountainside to let her frame cool itself. Long legs would be folded as she laid herself down, the giantess laying in the shade of aforementioned boulders and waited for whatever would be thrown at her now. "Talk" "You" Think SOLDIERS FOLLOW MY LEAD, REPEAT AFTER ME -PLATINUM- HOLY DEEP FRIED POTATOES THANK YOU FOXXY!!

Mount Volkan was a study in contradictions. The higher Baldur climbed the cooler the air but the hotter the ground beneath the coal black paws that stood apart from his ivory being. Crystal blue eyes peered up ahead at the destination. Baldur hadn't really seen lava and his curiosity was once again driving his aimless wandering. With a steady tune humming in his head he too to climbing high and higher. In truth he had no real reason for this journey, he just didn't know what to do with himself. More and more he was beginning to consider the idea of joining a pack. Baldur had no idea when he might run into his family again and he had no goal in particular. At least with a pack he'd have a purpose. But for all their benefits there was an inherent evil to packs that made the brute hesitate. Could he so easily give up his freedom? Muscular frame lilted forward as he finally came to the top of the volcano. Heat beat from the opening of the monster, sending wave and wave of stifling warmth over him. Wrinkling his nose he stepped closer to the edge when he noticed a femme not to far away, near the other end of the opening. A black beauty with a missing tail. A warrior then. Baldur grumbled mentally. He never knew what to say when greeting another. Rarely did he feel like coming up with some witty one-liner to engage in conversation. No? this time he'd let the other wolf make the first move. If she didn't want interaction then he'd move on after further investigating the volcano. s

Sooner rather than later would appear a distraction, a pale man with bright blue eyes and ink stain markings. Interesting, and this man was quite a big one at that, with muscles that could betray a time with the clan. Had he ever been amid their ranks? Based upon his near total lack of scarring and relatively well done by appearance, the obsidian femme would have to take the answer as no. Getting up from her place nestled in the boulders, she shook the soot and dust from her nearly impeccable ebony coat and strode forwards. Mismatched optics of fire and ice were alight with intrigue as she approached, wondering what he was doing here. Pale silvery audits would give an absent flicker as a bird cried out while flying overhead. "Good day, sir." Soprano lyrics would greet him, crown dipping politely as she took stock of what she could be facing if this turned awry. Strong seeming, sturdy, but his demeanor and the way he carried himself spoke of an overall gentle attitude. She seemed to be ever so slightly taller than he, but he had the weight advantage in this situation. That was always the best advantage to have, being able to pin one's opponent was an important thing indeed. Thick muscles were taut, ready to either attack or flee, despite the signs that this might not be what happened. Her expression as she flicked her eerie gaze over the face of the stranger was not an aggressive one, but neither was it altogether friendly. She found the ink blot marking over his eye to be a unique thing, and not a mark she had ever seen upon a wolf as a natural pigmentation of their fur. "Talk" "You" Think SOLDIERS FOLLOW MY LEAD, REPEAT AFTER ME -PLATINUM- HOLY DEEP FRIED POTATOES THANK YOU FOXXY!!

Baldur made a quick mental note to come visit the volcano when winter rolled around again and he dimly wondered if there were some hot springs nearby. But summer was probably a bad time to visit. Baldur's snow white coat was still thick despite loosing much of his winter fluff. The curious woman came closer and Baldur was surprised to find that she was a bit taller than he though a fair bit leaner and his guess at her being a fighter was confirmed by the lattice of scars that marked her sleek ebony frame. Baldur resisted the urge to flinch, wondering if perhaps she'd come from a background similar to his. Thankfully though his thick coat hid most of his scars. They were only noticeable when he was in motion and his fur parted in odd places. He was also lucky that his ears and tail were still in tact. Baldur took in her mismatched eyes? another fae with mismatched eyes. A vision flashed for a minute in his mind of another pair of mismatched eyes but again he failed to place them. It seemed every day that vision grew stronger and he quickly bid it silence. He had enough time for nightmares during the dark hours of evening, he did not need them during the day. "Likewise, Ma'am. If you don't mind my inference you look to be a warrior. Are you from one of the packs nearby? Oh, and I'm Baldur Hr??vitnisson, may I know your name?" She seemed a bit tense but that wasn't unexpected in a warrior. While bred and trained to kill and tear Baldur's time as a loner had mellowed him out well. And he'd never been into his father's militant philosophy as it was.