Songs of Sorrow [open]

[achi||ea]

[bg=c7e0df][atrb=border,0,table] [atrb=width,439,table] [th] White is all around. Floating. Spinning. Stinging. The cold of the snow, or the mountain air, does not bother a wondering female wolf. She is used to the cold- quite equip for such weather with a thick coat. She treads through the snow leaving deep scars in the perfect white. Alone, she talks to herself. "How appropriate. I scar up everything." she said referring to the gashes across her arms, most an old white, but some barely scabbed over- a morbid if not beautiful display of white and blue showing each emotion and physical release. It was her diary, and she would not trade her scars for anything. She shook the snow off her pelt causing a beautiful display of glittering flakes to rain through the air, glistening in the mid-day sun. The female was alone, in heart and form. This was nothing out of the ordinary, however her company was not kept by choice. Or was it? Was her not enjoying large, or new, or old social interactions really her fault? After all, she wanted to trust- she really did- but it never seemed like a good idea. There was always something blocking her. It was herself, obviously, but was that her fault? No. It was life’s fault. But she really did long for company. Sitting down, a new wave of sorrow swept over Achillea as the air seemed to become even colder. The depression spread from the chest, overwhelming her in a throbbing ache in her heart. She lowered her head, a single tear dropping before shooting her muzzle toward the air and howling with all her might. A cry of pain, not physical, but deep emotional pain echoed through the mountains.

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[Vak]

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[atrb=background,http://i45.tinypic.com/21bmxsk.png] Ebony claws slid forth first through the minute water molecules that had frozen together in a flake like form due to altitude temperatures. Her long and lean black and soulless purple marked legs slid like a sword into a protective cover. Sliding through the surface until pads pressed against the jagged earth’s surface. Her tail traced over the surface behind her. Like a branch sways her tail mimicked ones motion. Once placed and hitting her paws lifted up once more, pulling some of the snow with them in her swaggering motions. Her hips moved form side to side in a seductive, temptress sort of way. Her posture was like poison, over taking the energy fields around her. When saliva dripped from her mouth the acidic nature of his hit the snow coated area with a hiss. A hiss that only the burning sensation of skin could mimic. Long canines slid against one another as her mouth parted to release the muscle that moistened the blackened lips that help it within. Blackened circles around her eyes merely intensified the golden, illuminating coloration they held. Like glowing orbs bouncing in the night sky she moved over the land. Slithering silently through the snow and over the jagged incline of the mountains around her. As she moved they moved, until a piece of white caught her eyes. The mechanism inside her brain caused paws to stop. Placing weight perfectly balanced on all four paws. - Paws jumped down from the ledge like a ram running uphill from a predator. Her paws caught the edges off surfaces and propelled her over the terrain in front of her. The figure before her almost seemed helpless in the last few seconds as eyes look like that of a forest deer. A deer before jaws locked around a neck and crushed vocal cords. - Shoulders rotated as she weasel her way a few feet down. There was no need to be quiet. The snow muted most of the sound made on these hills. The crisp bitter air was a mirror image of the internal workings of this female. Her heart indeed created a pulse, but one that was twisted and demonic upon a listen. Her eyes did not leave the single lone female as she sat alone by herself. The posture given by the she-wolf was that of depression and sadness. The smirk crawled over her maw like lava dripping from the mouth of a volcano. - The head hanging limp from one side of her grasp and the carcass hanging on the opposite side. Blood splattered the snow land around her like a splatter painting from Jackson Pollock. The colors contrasted greatly against one another. Melting the surface with the body temperature. Snow was flattened and pressed in as there looks of some loose struggle. Though it always ended in the same visual approval. Eyes glanced out from the mountain in a wild sensation as the once females white fur was matted with a thick crimson tar. - Her brain sent images racing into her visual stimulators. The sensation of body temperature blood gave an illusion inside her mouth. Ears flickered upon the top of her skull as she let her vocal cords vibrate producing a low warning growl. Her paws continued approaching as wind pushed through the coat of thick white fur that spewed from her follicles on her back. “Such an innocent creature, left all alone. It seems I am the only one here to lick the tears that one could see hit the earth bellow you.” Her tone was sadistic in every shape and form. A deep and sarcastic laced sentence. For she knew that the acidic, poisonous saliva that hung in her mouth would do more then lick away a tear or two. Perhaps it would have been best if this female had remained alone and in a state of depression…

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[achi||ea]

[bg=c7e0df][atrb=border,0,table] [atrb=width,439,table] [th] The wind blew through the mountain creating a high pitched whistle that hung in the air, echoing the wolf’s cry. Achillea sat there, eyes closed, holding herself together in the still cold. But there was not stillness for long. Above her on the mountain pass another creature roamed, obviously aware of her presence. It was another wolf by the sounds of it, and either she cared not whether she was heard or thought Achillea was hearing impaired. Then again, not all wolves have the ears of the Azure. Lea could hear Vak’s heart beat before her paws hit the snow, her form became tense and aware in response. Her heart closed its hole in self defense, becoming nothing but numb, preparing itself for anything. Unmoving, Achillea waited. The female inched closer and closer with a confidence that could be with joy or hate. Judging by the scent of the poison running through her veins, Lea guessed the later. But this blood smelled fimilar…so this creature was not as different from Lea as she had thought. Her words were acid speaking to Achillea. They did not effect the female’s mood one way or another, simply confirming what she had assume of the creature. If anything, it made her confidence go up ever so little knowing she was right. This caused a smirk to spread across her maw. What a stupid female, to think herself better than anyone. We are all the same in this hell of a world- each as worthless as the next. Why should she think herself any different? But that’s the way the world is…annoying, frustrating, but unchangeable. “Oh dear child,” Lea said in the sweetest voice, opening her eyes and lifting her head, “havn’t you heard? The big bad wolf is never as innocent as she looks.” Smiling, Lea remained sitting casually. What could this fea do to her? Kill her? What a welcome change of scenery that would be. Leave her with a few scars? It would be nothing new, just more to add to the collection and a fresh wave of blood perfume to coat her fur. No, Achillea was invincible in her sorrows- not helpless at all.

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[Vak]

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[atrb=background,http://i45.tinypic.com/21bmxsk.png] The slant of eyebrows was made apparent, as she looked the underweight creature over. Her mind told her that this wolf would not make for a meaty meal. Meaning this female was a waste of her time. Her nostril drew in the air around her. Edging the scents up through her nose cavity to her brain and storing them away for a later dated use. Her large paws let toes move to click the ebony fibers upon the stone surface under the cold white blanket. Moving with her leg, muscles pulsed and twisted pushing tendons and fibers that covered them out of the way. Teeth seemed to slide together as vocals vibrated and a steady growl lid up through her cords and out the pit of a black hole on her maw. The growl sounded more like a laugh. Eyes reinforced the though. Her speak of child and bad wolf. “For a sad and pathetic looking creature you have that story crossed. For an am most certain that the ‘big bad wolf’ you speak of dies in the end of that tail.” - When it rained it poured. Leaking down the snow face like lava seeking from the cracks in the earth’s crust. Soaking the ground into nothing but a slush like state. Scars were sliced open as the female remained on the ground, leaking. Vakarna’s paws coated with the thick tar like liquid. - She did not need her eyes to wander of this mutt of a wolf to notice the railroad markings for scars across her front legs. “And by the looks of it, whom every tried to give you that same fate did not know how to do it correctly.” Her words slithered out with a lush venomous bite at the end. One would think her tone and presence was that of unwelcoming. On the contrary, Vakarna was sticking around to converse with the creature. If she was a waste of space and breath she would not stand with in a conversing distance. - Note: I am sorry for the delay. I have had my hands full with matters off the site. I know it is a bit shorter then my last post. But, it is all I can do for the moment.

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[achi||ea]

[bg=c7e0df][atrb=border,0,table] [atrb=width,439,table] [th] Achillea sat and stared at the she-wolf before her with little expression showing. The female was neither bothersome nor enjoyable- simple more matter in the world, simply taking up air like the rest of them. This one seemed to use quite a bit of air, however, as she spoke often. The big bad wolf dies. And? Everyone dies- everyone gets to leave this world behind, rotting, feeding the next generation of some pathetic life form that surely was happier than herself..maybe not though, maybe everyone was this miserable deep down. The wolf continued to speak. Why? She must be in need of some company or else she would have left, or perhaps in this creature’s case simply had her way with Achillea by now. Yes, this was a lonely wolf whether she would admit to it or not- she wanted company. Vak spoke more, this time about Achillea’s scars. She said they had not known how to do the job correctly, and she was sadly mistaken. The gashes through her flesh had served the exact purpose they were meant to- they eased her pain. At Vak’s sorely mistaken comment Achillea smiled and couldn’t help but let a laugh escape. “Why, dear wolf, would you think they didn’t succeed? They were, in fact, most successful in fulfilling their intentions.” Achillea spoke maturely and in a way that would suggest the listener is missing the main point in a story.

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