|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Fri Aug 22, 2008 12:03 am
This is an AIM-logged RP between EPD's Liulfr and Novablu's Maelstrom! 
He padded through the darkness, his head high and tail flagging behind him like a banner. Every footfall dug gold claws into the soft earth. Slinking in between trees, the slender, stormy-pelted male had only one objective:
To get to the Light.
Long ago, the God, Skoll chased a chariot led by golden steeds through the sky every morning. This chariot carried the Sun and the mother to all Light. He brought the dawn and the dusk, and when night fell to make way for the moon, the Sun became the Stars.
Maelstrom, as this hound was called, was a descendant of that God.
And in all actuality, all Hellhounds were. If they weren't the sons of Skoll, they were the offspring of his darker brother, Hati. Either way, descendants of Gods.
The golden bangles around his paws were given to him by the residents of Oblivion, as were the rings adorning the pronged antlers atop his head. He wore them proudly, signifying his pact with the Light.
He had set out to find others of his kind. Other beings.
Hellhounds.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Sep 10, 2008 1:56 pm
How he hated the sunlight.
He stretched, groaning as his stiff, sleep-worn muscles suddenly had a part to play, and his front legs slid underneath his chest to hoist himself to a half-sitting position. He yawned, his teeth barely visible in the cold, wet dark of the cave. That darkness emulated the darkness he had, the darkness he had only ever known. There had, perhaps, been a sense of sanity, but it had long fled, along with his morals.
He clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he thought about a meal, and whether the birds outside would make a fitting one. They were quite loud with their chirp-chirp-chatter, and it was driving him mad.
What a difference that would make.
He stood and moved into the light, hissing loudly at the sudden sting in his eyes. He had to wait and reopen them slowly before he felt capable in walking. He'd rather not run into any trees, after all. With a sharp, high pitched yip, he threw himself headfirst through the small opening between the rock wall and the thundering water, spurring past the small pool and into the trees. Be damned of the river, he wanted to find himself a meal.
He slowed when he felt far enough from the cave, and quickly fell into a crouch, sitting and waiting for some form of prey sound.
All he could smell was Hellhound, as disturbing as it was.
He looked about, his nose and ears twitching, his stance tense and his eyes alert. Was there another here? He saw a spark in the distance, and the slight jingle of bangle against bangle, before creeping forward (diligently keeping his antlers from tangling in the low-hanging leaves), and tasting the air. A small, crooked smile tugged at his lips, and he thought for a moment what effect eating his own kind would have on him. There was a moment of hesitancy in his head before the gears ground over the problem and fell into the steady thrum of 'kill, kill, kill.'
After all, there was no law against eating other Hounds.
It was survival of the fittest in the most literal of terms.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
