[ Post a Response | Wind Gale Pack ]
Posted by Anarchy on January 21, 2008, 12:39 am, in reply to "±Sinister±"
58.163.132.89
Not today.
Anarchy has a name,
You fool –
It’s
DEATH.
Hate. The all consuming feeling that made blood boil and people fight. Murder. An action that was normally fumed on this hate and darkness; many things in this world weren't pretty and many of these things were related to, or even were, death and blood. Energy could be made in the strangest ways, it could be fuelled by the oddest of things. The love for another could prove great when in trouble, as could the hate for this very being. To fight was to engage in a physical battle, sometimes to death but often leaving many great wounds and much sorrow. Some believed it was wrong to leave behind something you have started on, to leave it suffering; others just ended what hey started for the fun of death and the lust of blood. Wolves were one of the greatest predators and proved quite loyal when it came to their packs and family, not that all were. But this didn't matter when you had none of it, when you had nothing to lose apart from your life and imagination. Seeming as many parts of this wolf's past concerned death and blood.
The brute's onyx auds perked, his mascabre opticles gazing around, only to fall upon the large brute who now made his way towards him. Only moments ago had a howl replied to his own, deep and proud. Hell, he could break that with one snap of his jaws. A snarl rippled across his maw, a show of his own hatred towards the brute, the reason? Who needed one. Hate and hate, hand in hand. Watching as the alpha was to finally draw to a stop and speak, a malicious smirk lined his maw, pearls flashing in a show of his own.
'Why else would I waste my time coming to these pathetic lands,'
Each word was spat, poison lacing his suprisingly deep lyrics. Hackles were now on edge, easily visable as he allowed a growl to rumble through his chest, the same smirk still lining his face. If he hadn't challenged the alpha, then no doubt he would be dead, no such respect shown as he now stood, pearls bared and opticles staring straight the the brute's own. Anarchy had always found himself power hungry, lusting for blood and new abilities. There was no way he was about to let some foolish brute before him both answer his call and get away without so much as a wound.
'I must say, you don't seem the type to rule a pack, is it that you're over your own head? I do dare say I am more worthy then you. But that's just rude, now isn't it?'
Allowing his pillars to once more push him into action, the brute circled the alpha, his head lowered incase he dared go straight for his throat, life wasn't that easy. The brute knew if he had half a chance of getting the wolf angry, it might just cause his system to run simply on his feelings, clouding his mind from what was right and cause him to charge right in, doing something stupid before thinking over what could happen. No, he wanted this brute to move now.
Put your arms down,
Lower your voice,
There is no choice
This world is mayhem,
Your screams are
Ordinary.
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