My world

[appios ']

[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,false][bg=000000] ~~~ walks. talks.

[/i]
thinks.

"Imagine a place you can always escape to, an island that goes to nowhere."


It was later in his sanity. He now no longer cared, and he said things off the top of his mind. The only ones he was sane around were his commanders/leaders, and even then, he had a bit of...an odd touch. He was moody-er now-- prone to all of a sudden laughing out loud at things that were not funny at all. Such as a carcass. When he was asked why he did that, he simply said that he felt prone and asked to do so. So he did it. It was this reason the male was slightly odd. He had his base personality, oh, yes. Blunt, uncaring, obeying, loyal, brute. But now those questions added things, and, after taking a good long look at his reflection, he decided to just let go. He wasn't changing anything-- he was simply becoming what he must.

Or that was what he said to himself.

His thoughts, once ordered and neat, were now chaotic-- flying everywhere. It was only around higher-ups that the male regained control from the chaos. The chaos that seemed to fly around and bite at him. The thoughts that now reigned in his mind-- the questions were the king, and prodded him to do the things he did. He was a prisoner in his own body, but...he might like it. If asked, and if you knew how he slowly slipped down the hole that took weeks to do so, he would say that he hated it. He abhorred it. But at the same time he loved it...submitting himself to something other then leaders. Submitting himself, to himself.

An odd thing, to be sure. But true, and very real. The times that he sat himself to try to wrestle the king's of his mind off their thrones were few, and far in between. To everyone else, he seemed the same. Except for the brief laughs that he had around a carcass, he was assumed to be at the peak of his physical, mental, and emotional health. And indeed, he wanted to believe that. But there were times that he abhorred himself and it. It merely depended. He saw the lies that he told himself when he looked into a river. He wanted to change, but how? These were the only emotions he could find he could display with ease.

Maybe he should start over? Leave the pack, and go find another? But that was ridiculous. He had grown up here. He had family (if they didn't look the part), and friends (of whom were avoiding him because of his being a jerk), and a rank here. A mere grunt, but still. He would be scoffed if he went to Valkyr, and the Fjordsong would be too peaceful for his liking. He belonged here, so, therefore, he would suck up his luck, and try to find someone that could entertain him/be his friend to distract him from such harsh/dark thoughts. But where would one simply find a friend?

Finding himself in the marsh in an unclaimed land, he walked to around three inches up his leg, and stared down at himself. It seemed even more empty then before, if that could ever happen. What had happened since that time when he had looked at his reflection before? Nothing did. He merely got worse.


"A new destination, of your own creation, just waiting 'till you choose to go there."

~~~

Header Manip and table by ``Persephone;
Wolf photograph taken by Woxys @ Deviantart.com

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[Tiburon [on weekends]]

Her warmly hued pelt, thinner than that of the Northern wolf species for the warmer Mexican climate, was not well adapted to such an icy winter. The little senora needed to be huddled up somewhere warm, perhaps in the back of a cave or inside a thicket with a snowless dirt floor. Instead she was loping along a strip of sandy shore with ice-cold waves lapping at her dainty paws. The numb feeling that was soaking into her creamy mitts made Tiburon doubt her desire to hunt. Going out like this during the breeding season meant that she would attract unwanted attention from other wolves. She had disliked other wolves intensely since her birth. This dislike had only grown in strength when her left orb had been torn out. If she met up with someone, she might have to fighht... Tiburon sighed and shook her head, closing her remaining jade orb as she did so. Thinking wasn't going to fill her empty belly. Her quick lope came to a slow halt when she heard the squelching of paws going in and out of the marshland muck. It sounded like it was coming from from a few feet to her left. Tiburon turned her head. Cool jade orb landed on a white brute. Rusty harks flicked forward. The fur began to bristle along her shoulders and spine. Ivory lips lifted to show her teeth while her tongue slid out a bit between her fangs. It was a strong display of ambivalence. Though she wanted dearly to launch herself at the male, she also did not want him to attack her, seeing as she was much smaller and would not be able to fend him off.

(mostly recycled lol)

[appios ']

[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,false][bg=000000] ~~~ walks. talks.

[/i]
thinks.

He found himself smiling into the reflection. Oh, this nice...staring into his reflection made him feel in control. And it was then that his smile spread into a grin, showing all his teeth. "But why does it matter what I think? I'm merely a helpless soldier. The one that does everything that the leaders say. I love it. I adore it. I...

[/i]" he trailed off, trying to find an appropriate word. Scowling down, the stony facade emerged once again, and a low growl uttered from his throat. He was frustrated, that was for sure. The male seemed to be swarmed with questions, comments, and mere...wails. Oh, his sanity was being murdered by the moment, that was for sure. It was surely screaming.

Turning his head toward the sound of a newcomer, and her obvious dislike, he looked straight at her (almost into her and through) with black eyes cold as snow. Or ice. He was as silent as she was-- his tail was motionless, and his ears (besides pricking forward) were the same. He sat himself down once he got out of the beginning of the marsh, and examined her without every moving his eyes from their spot on her's. A little wolf. A little wolf that couldn't ever fight him, and she knew it, so she wanted to look as threatening as possible. Why was that? Surely she should simply slide off into oblivion, instead of challenging him, right? "Hello.[/i]" It was a simple statement, and his face did nothing to expose the turbulent emotions riled up inside his head.

Coming to his feet, voices whispering thoughts into his head, he slowly walked over to her until he stopped within two feet from her. Enough for her to attack, surely. But he had a feeling she wouldn't...correct? He didn't know. He simply knew that if she did, he could easily take her on. Maybe it was simply his wanting to escape his sanity's inevitable fate, but it was his own idea, and he wouldn't let go of it. The same as his sanity. He wouldn't let go unless he absolutely had to.


[/justify]
~~~

Header Manip and table by ``Persephone;
Wolf photograph taken by Woxys @ Deviantart.com

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[Tiburon [on weekends]]

Tiburon kept up her pose even when the stranger she was hoping to scare off moved his stare on to her. The raised fur along her spine stiffened up even more if such a thing was possible. She heavily disliked the way he was looking at her. The petite fae could almost feel the chill of it pushing through her thin pelage. It was exactly the way Rosa, her dam, had described her sire's gaze when the two of them had met. Rosa had taught her to return such stares with measures of coldness and condescendance that were equal to or greater than those displayed by the other wolf. Tiburon lifted her neck as high as it would go so that she would be closer to his eye-level. Lone orb narrowed to return his look, dark pupils locking onto his own. She would keep up her little one-sided staring contest until her remaining eye shriveled up and fell out. "Hello." The Mexican Gray's stance did not shift at the simple greeting, nor did her eye move from his. When he began to move towards her, though, she began to take small steps back in the hopes that it would maintain the distance between them. He stopped two feet away from her original position; seems the backwards movement was needless.

[Tiburon [on weekends]]

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