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Jan 19, 2015 16:28:02 GMT -5
Post by Rott on Jan 19, 2015 16:28:02 GMT -5
The sun beat down on the wolves; their lolling lavender tongues dull with dehydration. Flies swarmed the mass of shuffling bodies, their heads constantly hung low. The spirit of these wolves was exerted to its limit, if not gone. They had seen and done to much; shattered their own pride in order to scrounge up a meal. Milis was one of these wolves. She leaned against the wall of the canyon, her gray fur dusted with red dirt. She panted, her throat crying out for water. It would not be satisfied for a long time, she knew this. One of her eyes was swollen, and it hurt to open it. Her body was bruised, her fur was raw in some places, and her pads bled from constant walking. There was barely room to sit down, and if she did she was be touching another wolf. She didn't want the extra body heat.
She rose her head as she heard the menacing growls of the keepers. She did not have to look upon whoever caused the disturbance; she already knew it was a new slave. New slaves were not broken. They didn't know how to keep their sarcastic mouths shut, and it caused a lot of trouble for the obedient ones. Yet, even though this notion was correct, Milis admired the new slaves. She may have lost her will to fight, but she did not lose her will to dream. She had plans, plans to run away whenever she was able. The life she was living was hardly life at all, but she couldn't live free if she was dead. One day, I'll work up the courage. For now, I won't get very far. She thought, looking down at her cut pads and swollen ankles.
She was shaken from her thoughts as she heard the cry of the disturber. Milis knew his fate, he would be broken just like all the rest. He would be bullied around, have his faith pushed to the extreme, and then finally crumble. Like all Slakhir. She saw the impending shadows of wolves, and she suddenly felt as though she'd breathed in smoke. The Dominors were here. Milis looked away -from the sick feeling she had and from the way the light hurt her eyes- and tried her best to blend in with the others.
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“There are things known, and there are things unknown. And in between there are doors.”
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Jan 19, 2015 23:08:20 GMT -5
Post by Ὀδύσσεια♐ on Jan 19, 2015 23:08:20 GMT -5
N i r c o He was not but a shadow over their heads, looming atop the cliff-side to peer down at the hellish pit writhing in mud and bodies. Even so far up the stench of filth and rot and piss clashed with his nares and the alpha of Gröavche thought it a task not to gag. Even the swamps, the rotting logs, the stagnant moss of his territory did not stink so badly. The others around him, the sentries, leered down at the souls below, huffing in the air like they had been born to breath its poison. Perhaps they had, Nirco thought bitterly with a glower near powerful enough to knock the scum off the ledges if it were possible. Two lay dead by his jaws no more than a few months prior and he was sure to rain down on them again very soon. They were so thick in the head that all he had observed upon this arrival had been indifference to their fallen brethren. They did not think the slaughter of their own something to fret about. Foolish. It made him want to snort and tear furiously through the air, tell them he was the one shoving their sentries from their perches and that soon they would join their brothers. But before they could figure who'd been slinking in and disposing of their wretched guard, Nirco had a task to accomplish. Today would not be a day for drawing blood. Sweeping his eyes over the vast crowds beneath, he searched in what could only appear as a patient watch. Inside his heart was hammering, his ears strained through the leers as another slave was sent home with its new master. But he did not pay it mind. His gaze picked apart each individual with precision and though he hated to do it, tossed aside consideration for the weak. He wished every one of them to find freedom but at this point it was an unreasonable task and the only freedom they would likely receive was a slow death. Nirco was nothing if not open to the truth of things, as much as the truth could hurt. For the good of all and his end goal he knew many lives would be lost and sacrificed. He could not save every slave, as much as he wished he could. A bright form in the midst of many is what eventually caught his eye. A bit thin from the stay at the Rock though yet reduced skeletal, sullied lightly by the filth around from where he could see. Their head hung low, perhaps scrounging for scraps like all around, coat possibly matted though his perch was a bit of a disadvantage. Something in the air shifted when he saw them, something in his head not allowing him to look away. He blinked, focusing on the figure so that he might not be drawn to the savageness around them. He cared little if it were male or female and could not tell from where he was. "You," voice rough and cast on the winter's air as he growled at a nearby guard who started slightly when the noticed his size and heated stare, and inclined his head in the direction of his target, "bring me that light colored sklavin. Now." Typically Nirco was not so demanding. Typically, many a dominor would wait until their choice was paraded on the rock like a prized piece of meat, but he cared little for the feelings of slavers or their rules. He wanted to leave as soon as he possibly could. With a snarl to send the shaky guard on his way, he silently waited for the sklavin to be presented to him.
NOTES: Thur it is. WORDS: -- TAG: Rott
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Jan 20, 2015 22:40:39 GMT -5
Post by Rott on Jan 20, 2015 22:40:39 GMT -5
Sklavin who were born slaves never had room to dream. Their whole lives had been a living nightmare; and for them, life wasn't worth living. All they knew was the horrible, merciless ways of this world. The wolves born Sklavin were twisted and wicked, some more than their Dominors. The ones who were born as wretched scum; those were the scary ones. They had no dreams; they had no chance. Milis, while hardened, had never stopped her wistful far away thinking. This is most likely what had been keeping her sane. After every beating, every night she went to bed hungry, every time she asked herself what life was worth anymore, she remembered her dreams. She was not born Sklavin, granted, but she had long since forgotten her days as a gleeful pup. She had a glimpse of a glimmering meadow that sparkled in the morning dew, the youthful yips of her siblings far off in the distance. This single memory is one that kept her going. The world had good, she knew it. So, unlike other Sklavin who had given up, she still held her faith. Her freedom had been ripped from her arms, her pride had been shattered, her morals were gone, but she still had faith. Faith in herself, or in the world, she did not know. But faith nonetheless.
It was these thoughts she had running through her head as the sentry leaped down from his post, parting through the crowd. All slaves were terrified of being picked, and the herd of them shuffled backwards. Milis herself slunk into the crowd, ducking her head. Sh must have faith. Her golden eyes peered up at the Dominors, their forms casting long shadows across the canyon bottom. The guard made his way towards the middle of the crowd, lashing out at anyone who was slow in getting out of the way. Milis continuously back-pedaled until the wall of wolves behind her was so compact that she had trapped herself.The sentry spared his words, grabbing her scruff roughly and throwing her weight forward. She stumbled, her pads stinging at the sudden position shift. Tail tucked, she made her way forward as the guard pushed her on. Her veins ran cold with fear, her legs trembling. Faith. They cannot be any worse than you're last Dominor.. she reasoned with herself, her heart spastic. However much she wished she could believe her words, she knew it that masters could get much, much worse. She was slow in climbing up the rockface, one because she was hurting, two because she was not anxious to meet her new master. She took time during this process to que her thoughts.
Upon reaching the top, she panted. The trek upwards wasn't easy. Though, her physical condition was soon forgotten as she looked at her new Dominor. She took a step back, his whole being radiating dominance. He was black as knight, with two blue crystals for eyes. She was intimidated, to say the least. She was far to nervous and afraid to say anything, such as an introduction. Faith, Milis, faith. Please god, let me have faith.
Ὀδύσσεια♐
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Jan 21, 2015 18:51:49 GMT -5
Post by Ὀδύσσεια♐ on Jan 21, 2015 18:51:49 GMT -5
N i r c o The crowded pit parted like a school of fish avoiding the gaping jaws of a great predator, only it was actually the shifting of soiled bodies. Nirco observed with disgust from above, though his animosity was not directed at the backpedaling sklavins. He disliked the manner in which the guard threw the bright wolf forward, though he could not have expected any fairer treatment from the likes of these savages. Perhaps what was worse, however, was that he could do nothing for it now. He could not tear him down or rip him apart. He could only watch. A brazen display of rebellion here in the open would surely seal his fate and Nirco resigned to observing the figure of white. The sklavin shuffled slowly, clambering up the narrow path that lead from the pit. With each step nearer he could discern more and the moment the cowering form crested the top he knew what he'd chosen. Female. He could smell her through stench finally and her figure was more slender than most brutes. He nearly breathed a sigh of relief, though he had no bias in these desperate times. Still, Nirco was not oblivious to the particularly ruthless treatment of some she-wolves. He'd seen enough of them fat with the pups of guards here in the pit alone. One quick sweep over her muddied frame and he was sure that she had not fallen to such a fate. And if she had, she wasn't showing. It mattered not. "Leave us," he snarled with the flash of pointed ivories, but he was not addressing the sklavin. The guard still loomed, watching from behind the wolf like he were anticipating something. What, Nirco did not know. Surely not a reward of praise for his barbaric lifestyle. But it was with this one simple command that the mongrel hurried away and left the two alone. Not secluded enough, thought the brute. He turns without so much as an introduction. Not yet. It was too soon. "Come over here," the rough and abrasive tone had faded to something softer and he lead her many yards from the cliffs, into the surrounding shrubs where unwanted eyes could not spy them. It must have seemed suspicious to her, he knew, though his intentions were not dishonorable or selfish. Soon she would know this. Only when they had reached a distance where the shouts of the rock had faded like slowly healing wound, and the smell only lingered on the breeze, did Nirco halt and turn to regard her further. Her coat was matted, as he suspected, and she looked as if she were facing down a great and snarling grizzly. His darkest ear, the left one - indeed the only part of his body that was pure ebony - shifted to catch any sound of a follower. Nothing. They were alone. "Have no fear. I will not harm you, she-wolf. Now, tell me your name."
NOTES: I feel this could be better, but I'm so tired today. WORDS: -- TAG: Rott
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Jan 29, 2015 10:35:57 GMT -5
Post by Rott on Jan 29, 2015 10:35:57 GMT -5
Milis felt a hint of satisfaction at his nasty tone towards the sentry. Her ears pricked at the sound of his softer voice, and she couldn't decide if he was good or bad just quite yet. She had calmed herself down to an extent. She had to remind herself to take whatever the world threw at her. She could do it. She would do it; if she ever wanted to live as a free wolf. Milis followed him, the hollowing cries of the canyon below fading the farther they ventured out. The desert dirt of Auktion Rock had made quite the mess upon her coat, but that didn't matter.
She did not dare to look him in the eye, and was more than shocked to hear him say what he did. He wouldn't hurt her? Briefly, she thought that maybe he was the type who fancied female Sklavin. She shook the thought away quickly. She would not judge him quite yet..though, anyone who buys slaves from Auktion Rock didn't exactly get brownie points. Have no fear, he said. She carefully peeked upwards, seeing his mass body of think black fur. His crystal orbs stared back down at her, and she almost felt self conscious for the way she looked.
"Milis, ma-..my...my lord?" She tip toed, as he had never told her what to address him as. She hoped to god she hadn't stepped on his pride. She knew from experience that some Dominors could get very upset their 'honorary' title had been disconcerted.she could have snorted, if she felt better. Nothing came from anger, she knew. The only way to get herself out of this hell was with wit, determination, faith, and passion. The new master she currently looked upon did not resemble the hell shed been in in the past..but she was a horrible judge of character. I mean, he said a few kind words to her and she was already favoring him over any other Dominor. "I apologize..what did you tell me to call you?"
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“There are things known, and there are things unknown. And in between there are doors.”
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The Official RB Attack Dog. Beware.
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Jan 31, 2015 17:12:39 GMT -5
Post by Ὀδύσσεια♐ on Jan 31, 2015 17:12:39 GMT -5
N i r c o Nirco could not contain the amused huff of laughter that ebbed from him upon her words. "My Lord," she had called him, something that did not sit well within his massive frame at all. The nerves were rolling off the sklavin's form in thick, palpable waves, as if she were afraid he might not be pleased for what she said. And Nirco wasn't, though not for what she expected. "I am not a lord, Milis. Neither am I a king or even a dominor." He brushed off the silly titles with the flick of his darker ear and a grimace at the mere thought of them. So many heads of poison had been filled with foolish arrogance and superiority bestowed upon them and by who? Themselves or false gods. Nirco might have taken land but he was not one of them. He was not so easily swayed by what he had into a false sense of worth. "I am merely an alpha, a leader should someone need a home." He hoped the words comforted her somewhat. He had never been in her position, never been shoved to the pits or owned or treated like the rags of a kill. They shared few similarities he was sure. But for his lack of shared experience Nirco at least attempted to understand, attempted to place himself in the paws of sklavins like this she-wolf. It seemed such a strange thing to be where he was, even now near a year down the road for Nirco had been nothing more than a shadow of the world, flicking from one place to another with no direction to his path. He'd been unstable, unruly in the presence of others, not sure of his place no matter where his paws lead him. And he'd been happy for the most part, wrapped in his own blanket of denials and false sense of security. There had always been that inkling of an idea, though, and it had somehow lead him here, freeing slaves under the guise of some sick-minded dominor. His stability among others had grown, his every action no longer transforming into instant hostility to any that dare look his way. Everything he'd been had been melded by the events in his birth pack and had stuck to him like a blood-sucking mosquito for so long. Everything he was now had morphed him into a better version of himself. Now... now he could distinguish between friend and foe. He had Chalandra and Echo to thank for raising him from his own solitude and despondency, even if they didn't know their impact. And he hoped the world was better for his change. "You may call me Nirco. I seek no title."With that he was turning away with no command for Milis to follow him. He assumed she would and if she did not, he would not have punished her for it or gone after her. Her freedom was hers whether she gave him the chance to inform her of it. Still he does hope she trails him as he treks further from the Rock for the area was treacherous to anyone that dare flee. When he at last reaches a suitable distance where the hell had diminished to nothing, he stops and chances a glance over his shoulder. "We head south from here if you wish. Gröavche, my home, is not a welcoming place. It's little more than a swamp, bogged in a constant layer of fog with no worth to those that don't know it. But its residents have no equal and what lies within will surprise you. I warn you it does not look like the haven it is, but you might not find any safer place right now." Flashing his gaze down to her from the fallen log he'd perched on, Nirco disappeared on the other side quickly. Gröavche was a long day's trek at least if they made the best time. The brute hoped for her to follow and he tossed over his shoulder. "You are free Milis. Make your choice now but do not head east."
NOTES: So yeah. I hope she comes along with him XD If so we can make a new thread in Groavche after your next reply. WORDS: -- TAG: Rott
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