--! The Beast from the Black Lagoon.

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THIS POST IS OPEN.... BTW.

[atrb=width,470,true][atrb=border,0,true][bg=000000] It was wet. Everything was wet. Even the air seemed to have a water like quality making it thick and irritating. This was not the sort of weather the large silver male enjoyed, nor would most if they had to travel with an impossibly thick coat of dark rooted fur on. Fane hated the summer, and he hated the humidity even more. Water dripped from the ends of his sodden pelt as he trudged through the thick woods in hopes to find some sort of dry yet shady spot to rest the heat of the day away. He was tired of being wet. At first he tried to shake the abhorred substance from him, but gave up when the liquid merely regathered back on his body a few minutes later. Everything that the male came in contact with or disturbed in the slightest amount sent cascades of water toward him from the shrubs and overhanging branches, coating him in another unwanted layer of damp. The weather itself was trying his last nerve and Fane was hardly a patient brute. Still, there was nothing he could do about his present situation by cursing at the sky, so he pressed forward. Fane could hardly imagine how pitiful he must have looked right now. His Ears were back to keep the water from them and long sweeping tail was dragging on the muddy underbrush as he saw no point in attempting to keep it dry. The stringy wet strands of his pelt were clinging to his muscular frame in a rather annoying fashion making him from a distance probably appear to be a lost wad of seaweed with paws and ears. He rather felt like a clump of seaweed at this point, what with swimming in the air and all. He wanted his winter paradise back. At least then all the water was frozen instead of cohering to him. Winter was heaven to him, or as close as he was ever going to get to it. He never got cold or damp during that time of year and his heavy pelt wasn't a total handicap. The way light danced across the icy tundra creating a blinding blanket of pure white was simply lovely, and contrasted nicely against the color red too. The only time it was ever annoying was walking away from a kill. Fane just had to hope by the time something came across his handiwork his massive paw prints had been obscured by the blistering winds. Not that it mattered if he was discovered, clearly this land had no one ruler, no directly unified chain of command. What could they do to him if he was found. Enslave him? Pshh. The thought was almost enough to make him laugh. It had happened once because he allowed it to, then ended it on his own accord. 'Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.' An unconscious toothy smirk came across his maw as he recited the saying to himself. Speaking of slaves and their even more comical masters Fane could smell the rank odor wafting from what he assumed were the auctions as he stepped out of those irritating damp trees and into a more clear and even path. He guessed this was the main thoroughfare to that dreadful place from wherever the hell everyone else lived. Here the male had a few decisions to make. He didn't think going towards the auctions seemed like such a bright idea at this point, his patience and composure wearing thin, and he'd be damned if anything but more water was on the other side of the woods, so the only option left was to continue away from the rock and up the open trail to who knows where. Being on the main drag was hardly Fane's idea of a good time, hating the idea of company almost as much as water right about now, but it was hot, and likely not many would choose today to travel. Maybe he'd get lucky and not have to deal with anyone. He was too uncomfortable to bother with massacring anything right now, even if they were as annoying as high humidity. The silver male wasn't Fane the viking prince, pillaging and raping, raping and pillaging. No. He was Fane, the irritated seaweed monster. And as he plodded along, his auburn eyes barely visible under his dark matted fur, he very much resembled such a pitiable beast. wc;; 743 ooc;; Even mass murderers have bad hair days. :D -faild- Ugh. I'm ADDing all over this post.

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^{"Castor thinking"
"Castor speaking"}

<sup>Rain was not good. Rain made all the tasty little animals hide away in their little burrows. It was hard to stay quiet in the rain, with paws making squelching noises in the mud. The rain washed away the scents of tasty prey. Why was there so much rain?

Pollux ambled along the forest floor with no real intentions. He couldn't hunt in this weather, but his mind could not turn to anything else. His days were mostly spent acquiring food and without that task he was lost. But the forest was a strange place for strange creatures; eventually something would come to entertain him. Once he had found a mouse with wings that hung upside-down from a tree. Pollux had grabbed it from the low-hanging branch and played with it. He would release it, watch it struggle to fly a few feet up, then grab it again and repeat the process. It had been great fun. Then the mouse-with-wings had died and stopped being entertaining, which was a great loss. Pollux tried to eat it, but it was too small and tasted odd.

Eventually, he came to a crossroads. Even the rain could not wash away the heavy scents that had accumulated on one path. It smelled of many wolves, hundreds perhaps. Pollux could smell strong brutes and weak slaves, haughty Alphas and submissive Omegas. The odor of females in heat made the air thick like a drug, but not even that tempted Pollux to take that road. Pollux's ears twitched back. He listened for a bit, then spoke in an irritated voice.

"No. There are too many. I won't." Pollux sounded like a stubborn child.

"All you need is one, maybe two." Castor spoke, of course, of female slaves. "After you have some faes and territory, it's only a matter of time until you have a family pack. Pollux could hear the smirk in Castor's voice, he could feel it urging him on to the Rock. "Family makes the best pack members. Devoted, loyal, admiring . . .

"I won't go. I don't want them around me. Surrounding me."Pollux was fearful in his tone, but no less determined to have his way. "I don't want to talk to you anymore." Castor shouted something at him angrily, but Pollux ignored him. He didn't understand why Castor wanted more wolves around. Two was enough, yes? If Castor wanted a slave he should just go get one himself. But that was silly, Castor never went anywhere without Pollux.

Pollux took the path away from the Rock. Though it also smelled of many wolves, the scents weren't as fresh and plentiful as what drifted up from the canyon. Pollux trotted happily down the trail of crushed plants, darting from one side to the next to examine scents. Once he left the path entirely to sniff the old bones of some long-rotted carcass. A deer? No, too small. A rabbit? No, too big.

"Wolf," Castor sighed in his ear. "A dead slave, most likely. I'll bet it died from exhaustion."

Pollux sniffed the bones. He looked down at his own body. Was this what he looked like on the inside? Suddenly he whipped his head up, ears alert, and looked down the road. "Wolf."

"Yes, wolf bones." Castor sounded annoyed.

"No, wolf. Down there." Pollux knew he had Castor's attention now. He felt worried though. If there was another wolf nearby he would have to walk past it, see it, talk to it even. He despised the Rock more, though, so going back wasn't an option. The rusty wolf began to panic, wanting to go in every direction.

"Forward, forward! Go! In his panic, Pollux blindly followed Castor's orders. He ran as fast as his spindly legs could carry him, trusting Castor to guide him to safety. It wasn't until a wolf shape sprang up on the horizon that Pollux realized that he was heading straight for the other wolf. Snarling with anger, he skidded to a stop, but he knew it was too late. The other wolf would have seen him by now. Crouching low in case he needed to defend himself, Pollux searched for escape. He could lose the other wolf in the woods easily, but he wasn't sure if he could reach them before the other canine cut him off.

"What do you want?" he growled.</sup>

[¿℟ᵿҝɸ]

[atrb=width,470,true][atrb=border,0,true][bg=000000] This muddy path was good for something after all. Although the mire was drying making walking a tad more irritating, Fane's damp pelt was exposed to the sun as much as the land was. He could feel the moisture evaporating from where it had meshed with his fur lightening the weight of his steps. It was much easier to move with the extra water gone, but he was nowhere near back to his eerily pleasant self. A few trudging steps later the male looked up to see what looked like a reddish blob racing toward him on black toothpicks for legs. Upon closer examination the moving object appeared to be a wolf who was sprinting, rather quickly, in his direction. Hoping the whirling mass of canine would simply pass by him Fane continued his journey down the heavily used trail, not particularly in the mood to deal with the befuddling minds of rushing wolves. To his dismay the rumbling sound of running suddenly halted followed by a confused snarl. Instantly charcoal ears perked forward and his muscles stiffened in response. He jerked his head up to see a manned wolf poised in a crouching position, his eyes darting from him to the wall of foliage on either side of the pathway. Fane had to use every ounce of self-control to resist offering his own aggressive greeting to the other male's. No doubt this was the one who was running earlier. Possibly that was related to his behavior now, but it still puzzled him. "What do you want?" What did he want? He was the one who came barreling toward him snarling like some rabid animal. "I could ask you the same thing." If only the mutt knew who he was talking to. The silver male didn't have an ego, but what he lacked in self-inflation he gained in self-knowledge. He knew his limits and the ragged bundle of red in front of him was well within them if he could get a hold on him. Manned wolves were notoriously quick on their twiggy legs and speed wasn't one of his strong points. Deciding that aggressive behavior would hardly help his current situation any, Fane attempted to assume a calm and collected persona while addressing the male, but was rather poor at it in his current state. "Me? I was just looking to see if the rumors around this place were true." He gave a mischievous grin before walking forward a few paces. An underlying threatening tone laced his vocals, though it was uncertain if it was intentional or not. "Surely you've heard of them. You know, the ones about all those wolves disappearing and winding up dead on the edges of the forest." In reality Fane had no desire to learn of the lore surrounding this place. He might have contributed to it a few times here and there, but his curiosity was never peaked by any of the stories he'd heard. Regardless, It made a great coverup for his reproachable activities around this area, even if he wasn't the only factor in them.

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<sup>"Me? I was just looking to see if the rumors around this place were true."

Pollux tilted his head like a confused puppy. He didn't understand what this wolf was playing at. He knew a stiff body and bared teeth meant a fight, but he couldn't predict the actions of a wolf so calm. Calm was anything. It was the calm before the storm, the calm of a dying animal, the calm of a broken sklavin. The male's voice, though. had a strange air about it. It made Pollux pay attention to his words. For a moment he forgot to be defensive, rising up from his position to sit. Even Castor stayed silent, waiting for the wolf's next move.

"Surely you've heard of them. You know, the ones about all those wolves disappearing and winding up dead on the edges of the forest."

Something set off alarm bells inside Pollux's head. He flinched at the noise. It was loud; he wanted it to stop. Whimpering, he retreated slowly to the corner where Castor usually sat. Make it stop, Castor. Let me sleep. Pollux closed his eyes as silence wrapped around him like a soft blanket.

Castor raised his head to the other wolf, his lips peeled back in an unsettling grin. His backside rose slowly off the path, tail wagging high in the air. He took a moment to savor the freedom. It was dreadfully dull being stuck in Pollux's head all the time. He relished the short recesses he had when the world was too much for his host. Nothing would ever be too much for Castor.

"Is that a threat? Because I assure you, you don't want to start that with me."

He stepped closer to his adversary. Stretching to his full height, he stared down at this brute, as if he weren't merely a few inches taller. It had been so long since he had a good fight. His muscles ached to be used to scratch and bite and dodge. Pollux kept well away from other wolves, leaving no chance for any real conflict. On the rare occasions Castor could get him close, Pollux usually ran away. For such an idiot, he was remarkably good at figuring out ways to annoy Castor. But Pollux would stay asleep in his mind for a while now, enough for Castor to have a bit of fun.

"Well? Anything else you want to say to me?"</sup>