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Post by Accalia on Jan 14, 2012 8:39:00 GMT -5
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It was noon, always the worst time in the desert. The bright glaring eye of the sun was high overhead, scorching the ground with its fiery gaze. The sky would have been a perfect blue, if it did not hurt to look up at it. The heat made you want to faint and pant and beg for water. To be out and about now was insane.
Lyta was most definitely insane.
The young red wolf was trotting across the desert, revelling in the heat. Yes, she was a mountain wolf by upbringing. But she knew her father had been a desert wolf. She had inherited her mother's thick fur, but it had her father's fineness, and she was little and lithe and finely built. She could handle heat. She loved it. And after so long in the Steppe, she had decided to go looking for some.
She was rather enjoying her holiday. She'd decided her pack wouldn't miss her if she decided to go exploring for a day, just one day, and in the absence of an Aezel it was probably a good idea anyway. So she'd headed south and found this lovely place. It was so warm! And the stuff underfoot... Lyta had never seen a desert before, so she wasn't quite sure what it was. She vaguely remembered the idea of sand from a beach from her childhood, but there was so much of this stuff. She liked it. It was soft and warm to walk on.
She frowned at the smudge on the horizon. That looked different. Maybe it was a range of mountains, like those near the edge of the Alliance's territory? She almost laughed at that. It was hard to imagine the cold of the mountains in this place. Or maybe she'd got turned round and that was home.
Wait... was it moving?
It was, she decided. It was becoming bigger and seemed to be coming towards her. She frowned harder. Mountains didn't move. Okay, so it wasn't a mountain range.
Interested, if a little wary, she picked up her pace and ran towards it. It was getting close to mid-day and she should probably be returning to the Alliance. But this thing, whatever it was, had caught her interest.
It was definitely getting closer, and at an alarming rate. The first pang of fear began to be felt in Lyta's heart. It looked like... well, it looked like a storm. But no. Storms? In the desert? The storms Lyta knew involved howling winds, pouring rain and intense cold. Surely that couldn't happen in a place like this. No, the little wolf told herself, that's not what it is.
It certainly did look like one, though. A roiling mass of what looked like dark brown clouds.
And then suddenly it was closer, a wall of roaring noise that seemed to flatten everything in its path. Lyta saw what looked like some kind of insane forcefield moving towards her, the grass bending before it, and realised, too late to run, that it was the wind.
It hit her like a hammer, and she staggered and cried out, her breath snatched away by the gale. She instinctively turned and ran, slipping and sliding through sand that shifted beneath her feet.
Then she fell, and felt rock, and realised she was in some kind of cave, below the surface of the sand.
Within moments the cloud howled over the entrance, filling the cave with a fine dust that made Lyta cough and sneeze. She retreated deeper into the darkness, lighting a small globe of fire that floated along beside her, so she could see. As she retreated further she was able to breathe, and realised with a sigh of relief that she was safe.
She cast a glance back at the entrance, sending another streak of fire out to light that area. The entrance in the ceiling of the cave was covered by a mass of sand that seemed to have decided to remove itself in pawful upon pawful and fly through the air.
And, instinctively, with some memory of a story dredged up from her childhood, Lyta knew what it was that had nearly killed her, and she shivered from the shock, and the realisation that if this cave had not been there, she would have been dead.
Sandstorm.
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Post by m o n d a y on Jan 17, 2012 18:20:26 GMT -5
 I’m told that fate makes fun of us,
That it gives us nothing and promises everything,
In all his years the white wolf had never once regretted a decision.
untill now that is
Why he had chosen to follow that demon crow's directions, he cannot fathom, but he does know that it was intentionally planned to lead him to his certain death.
The terrain was hot and dry. Dirt and rocks and sand all mingled together, it danced with the air and caressed his lungs with each breathe he took. The sun hung high in the sky, as if proud to show off his power, bringing whomever he didn't think worthy of his light to their knees. Frost was no exception.
The only thing keeping him alive still were his powers being used at full blast. Ice particles covered his entire body, his paw's left scorching wet prints into the brick red rocks he climbed. The ice melted almost as quickly as he formed it, the still noise of his outtakes of breath were accompanied by the soft pitter patter of heated water droplets hitting his damp toes.
This climate was almost the complete opposite of is home habitat, no scratch that. It was the complete opposite.
What could of been beautiful tendrils of white snow, pure as morning light, in their place stood these retched streaks of never ending sand and burning burgundy stone. The sky was the only thing that could be described in something of a poetic fashion, but Frost was too tired to give it even that.
Somewhere in the distance the damn crow was laughing, Frost was sure of it. Its red eyes are probably peering at his weakened form with mirth, the sick beast deriving its pleasure from torturing the wolf. But Frost wouldn't waste his energy on hate, he needed it all if he wanted to find shelter from the heat.
After living as long as him, he has come to a comfortable familiarity with this new body, or well, just body and could give himself a mental estimate of how much more he can last, and the outcome was not in his favor to say the least.
The wind seemed to begin to pick up, trashing wildly stones hovering a few centimeters off the floor in some cases. The only thing protecting the white wolf from the powerful whiplash was the thin layer of ice that consumed his outer body but even that had began to melt from the heat. His heart began to race his mind screamed shelter shelter shelter
and Frost listened
using all the energy he could muster the wolf projected himself off the ground using his power back legs and went into a sprint. The wind was more powerful than ever and whipped at his face fiercely, leaving light cuts on his muzzle. His thin shield of ice around him began to crack, but Frost didn't give up and kept running from whatever monstrosity nature managed to create again. He didn't even notice when the sand between his paws was replaced by stone, or the raspy texture had turned into jagged edges and brown rock.
The wolf gasped and flung himself into a small opening between the rocks. It was a tight squeeze but he found that it was actually quite big on the inside. Without bothering to see if he was safe Frost collapsed on the rough stone, shaky legs finally giving in. The cave was in no means cool, but it served its purpose and protected him from the heavy sandstorm raging outside its walls.
Frost panted and tried to regain his energy, he knew he would not be able to defend himself if it came down to it and after using his powers for such a long length to keep himself cool the wolf was more than worn out.
When happiness seems to be within our reach,
We reach out and find ourselves like fools[/b] Lyta && Frost NOTES; Whoo~ That was fun to write c: [/ul][/size][/font] |
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Post by Accalia on Jan 18, 2012 17:06:02 GMT -5
yup, interesting circumstances are always fun to write  | [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true] | [atrb=background,http://i.imm.io/dmND.png]
Lyta shivered, suddenly realising how hot and dusty the cave was. Frowning in concentration, she scratched keyeleh into the floor at her foot. Protection. It took a while - the symbols Lyta knew were complicated, she was not exactly working under ideal conditions, and the sand kept filling in the scratches she made - but eventually the symbol was done and seemed to freeze, the grains ceasing to shift and move around.
The symbol did not glow with magical blue light or give off sparks or even change colour - keyeleh, as far as Lyta was concerned, was one of the really boring symbols - but the air did begin to feel fresher and Lyta could breathe more easily.
Glancing up, she frowned. There was a panting wolf lying at the cave entrance. Well. She knew that all sorts of interesting things happened while she was busy in Lyta-land, zoning out the world and focusing on her task, but this was new. She wondered how he'd survived the sandstorm. She supposed she could understand him surviving the heat, with his nice white coat, the lucky thing, but sneaking up on her in a sandstorm was... rather a difficult feat to have achieved.
"Come deeper," Lyta called, "the air's better over here." She didn't mention the keyeleh symbol by her foot. Sometimes it was better if wolves stayed unaware of each others' magic until they were better acquainted. For all she knew this wolf could be an enemy.
She danced forwards, moving away from the symbol, and closer to the wolf.
"However did you survive that mess? I barely made it in here myself," she wondered at him once she was closer. Nudging the globe of fire with her mind, she brought it closer, examining the wolf. White, blue markings, average size.
I can take this one. He's not a threat.
Satisfied by that, she smiled brightly at the wolf and awaited his response.
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Post by m o n d a y on Jan 18, 2012 20:45:10 GMT -5
I’m told that fate makes fun of us,
That it gives us nothing and promises everything,
The ice that had been protecting his body from the slashes of sand had all but been reduced to nothing but water, and buried itself into his white tendrils of fur effectively cooling the wolf's body. Frost relaxed and felt the comfort of taking a break from his constant use of powers, his eyes gaining their black pupils once more.
Hearing slight scratches in the distant, his ears immediately perked up, and the wolf turned his head in the direction of the noise.
His eyes caught on to the form of another wolf. Strange he couldn't help but muse, at the sight of another being like his own. Frost had rarely interacted with others in his travels, his only companion sadly and unwantingly being the crow. So seeing this wolf, especially one such a contrast to his own looks piked his curiosity, or at least it would if the clutches of death and panic weren't making such number on his heart and mind right now.
Frost spent a moments time considering the threat this stranger could pose, especially to the weakened state he was currently in.
Her voice cut through the air sharply, heard even through the destruction of wind and sand roaring outside. The caves carried sound rather nicely he'd say. Frost considered her request, the air was quite thick in his area, being so close to the entrance you would get a nice handful of sand with every breath you took.
Before he could sort out his thoughts into an appropriate response, the stranger began to approach him. Caught slightly off guard, Frost scrambled to his feet but didn't bother getting into a defensive stance. The last thing he wanted was to pick a fight.
She spoke more, the orb of fire that danced close to her was moved closer to him. Ahh a magic user, and a fire one at that Frost was no stranger to abilities, or 'magic' as some wolves had dubbed it, plus, this revelation only brought him back to his earlier thoughts about their contrasts.
"I don't think i hold the answer to that, although this cave has proved its usefulness as a source of refugium." The white wolf didnt notice his accidental slip in of another language, as he was too concentrated on the globe of fire. it was...mystifying to say the least. Something so warm, so bright and alive was completely different that the ice he was used too. He took a few steps closer to the female, taking in her features within the light of the fire. Her coat was a deep red, in a way it reminded him of the terrain they were in, or the desert to be more specific.
"Quite fortunate the luck we possess, is it not? It seems this storm had intentions to bury all, and we defied it." The crow often commented on his strange way of speaking, but Frost never found anything wrong with it, maybe years of isolation just made him have trouble with things of that sort. Speaking of oculis rubet, where is that thing?
The white wolf turned his head, examining the cave, half heartedly expecting for the sound of wings flapping and arrogant laughter, but it never came. Maybe he finally died Frost mused, but quickly discarded the thought, that thing couldn't die, he would know.
The wolf turned back to the stranger in front of him, and figured it was time to start calling her something other than stranger.
"What do you go by red one?."
When happiness seems to be within our reach,
We reach out and find ourselves like fools [/b] Lyta && Frost NOTES; the language he slipped in was latin btw, i love incorporating it somehow when i write Frost [/ul][/size][/font] |
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Post by Accalia on Jan 22, 2012 13:22:18 GMT -5
haha, I know Latin too so don't worry, I understand it. | [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true] | [atrb=background,http://i.imm.io/dmND.png]
This other wolf appeared to be soaking wet. Lyta was hard pressed not to laugh as he seemed to take a few moments considering her. Maybe he thought she was a threat. Well, she was a threat. But not to him. Her policy had always been to be friends with everybody unless they make you change your mind. Well, not always... but these days it was. She'd felt sharply the consequences of acting otherwise.
He still wasn't speaking. He seemed to be, well, thinking. Either that or he was mute. Most wolves would be gibbering away out of pure relief, but he was unusually quiet.
"I don't think i hold the answer to that, although this cave has proved its usefulness as a source of refugium."
Finally the other wolf seemed to relax, moving closer to her. And he spoke! So he wasn't mute. That was good. Lyta found mutes annoying. She liked to be able to communicate with wolves. Communication and information were the keys to the world.
"Quite fortunate the luck we possess, is it not? It seems this storm had intentions to bury all, and we defied it."
The red wolf didn't really notice his way of speaking much. She was sometimes prone to rather archaic speech herself on formal occasions, and it wasn't her first language anyway.
"What do you go by red one?"
She smiled. Now they were talking. This was good - it would pass the time until the sandstorm ended. She hated nothing more than being bored.
"I'm Lyta, Majara of the Aurora Caeli Alliance. And you?" She was surprised he hadn't been able to smell the pack on her, but she supposed it was quite a new pack, and not everybody would have heard of them.
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Sorry short post, Mum's yelling at me |
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Post by m o n d a y on Jan 24, 2012 21:39:08 GMT -5
I’m told that fate makes fun of us,
That it gives us nothing and promises everything,
Frost stifled a yawn and the urge to scratch his ear, it would seem too relaxed, and Frost was didn't want to completely lose his guard just yet.
I'm Lyta, Majara of the Aurora Caeli Alliance. And you?
Aurora Caeli Alliance, the wolf racked his brain for any signs or recognition towards that but found none. Which was probably normal as the wolf was nothing more than a huge hermit who never ventures outside the Tundra's snowy peaks and the few times he does he ends up in near death experiences. Which reminds him why he never ventures out to begin with. Alas, this might explain the unique scent that's coming off of her, as it wasn't like anything he would find in the desert.
Frost let out a barely audible hmmm, an odd habit that developed on its own, and the wolf had no idea how.
Names were typically of no importance to him as he rarely associated others by them, remembering them purely on personality and matching that to a face by memory. However the crow had nicknamed him Frost somewhere along their never ending journey, and the white wolf stuck with it. Although it was mostly for the benefit of others.
"They call me Frost, although i've been given many names." Ice blue eyes searched her own for any signs of confusion, not sure if he should go into further detail. His past was never a favorable topic for him, as anyone ever hardly believed him let alone wanted to hear the whole thing, and by anyone he meant the sadly low number of other beings he's encountered.
"I am merely a wanderer, new to these lands but i have an impression you are as well. Tell me Lyta, what set you on the journey to this patch of heated rocks and death?"
The crow would of probably snickered at the obvious dislike he had for this place, but that thought unnerved him. Why is it that the only time he has some peace from that thing, it still manages to harbor itself in his thoughts? The wolf really needed to sort out his issues.
When happiness seems to be within our reach,
We reach out and find ourselves like fools [/b] Lyta && Frost NOTES; [/ul][/size][/font] |
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Post by Accalia on Jan 26, 2012 16:09:06 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true] | [atrb=background,http://i.imm.io/dmND.png]Lyta was beginning to dislike the cave. She was a wolf who very quickly - very quickly - became bored, and she could see that they might be trapped in here a while, whilst the sandstorm's fury abated.
"They call me Frost, although I've been given many names," the white wolf said.
Lyta paused at that, struck by a chord of recognition. She identified with that. She too had more names than she cared to remember - they were important to her, and she collected them, in a way. Names, on some levels, were just labels, tags wolves used to call each other. On other levels - on her levels - they were important. They described who you were. When you were dead and gone, they'd be all that was left of you, spoken on the bards' lips.
"I am merely a wanderer, new to these lands but I have an impression you are as well. Tell me Lyta, what set you on the journey to this patch of heated rocks and death?"
Lyta smiled slightly. "I wouldn't call it a patch of death. We're alive, are we not?"
She moved back towards the symbol, preferring the air further back in the cave, although she was careful not to glance at the thing. Revealing magic was never smart. It was beginning to get cold in here, but she didn't mind revealing her fire nearly as much. Focusing for a moment, flames leapt up behind her, quickly warming the air. The combination of the flame-globe and the fire behind her sapped her energy tangibly, but at least now she was warm.
"I like the heat. Leading the Alliance is stressful occasionally and it's nice just to go off and explore now and then," she grinned. "And it's just nice here. Warm and all that. I like warm."
She settled down, sitting as a cat would with her tail wrapped around her ankles. She supposed the polite thing to do was ask him about himself, but then he'd probably ask back and the last thing she liked doing was talking about herself. By nature, Lyta was happy and open and boisterous enough - more than enough - but she was known for being rather reserved when it came to talking about herself. Instead of making casual conversation - fangs and claws, was she rubbish at casual conversation - she decided to yawn and stretch and then suggest, "I suspect it may get rather boring and cold down her as the sandstorm goes on. They last for hours sometimes. We'd better find some way to entertain ourselves."
Back in her birth pack she would have started a game of ei karis. She didn't know if wolves around here played the game of stones and intrigue and magic and focus. She didn't think they did. Maybe they would spar, or play with magic, or explore the caves. Anything but casual conversation.
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Post by m o n d a y on Feb 5, 2012 11:07:01 GMT -5
I’m told that fate makes fun of us,
That it gives us nothing and promises everything,
"I wouldn't call it a patch of death. We're alive, are we not?"
The white wolf's eyes gleamed of mirth, she did have a point he supposed. Slowly, almost curiously he took some tentative steps towards her retreating form, as she walked towards were she had previously mentioned the air was better. Flinching slightly as a flame was created behind her. It was beginning to get cold, Frost liked cold but he guessed she didn't share his opinion. Hoping the other wolf wouldn't notice he inched away from the fire, normally he would just use his ice to keep himself cool, but the wolf was in a weakened state, and couldn't afford to lose anymore energy.
"I like the heat. Leading the Alliance is stressful occasionally and it's nice just to go off and explore now and then,"--- "And it's just nice here. Warm and all that. I like warm."
The wolf tipped his head lightly, satisfied to know that his guess was right. He let out a soft chuckle, which sounded more like he let out two huffs of breath. "I'm afraid we do not share similar views on the heat my friend. I've always been more inclined to colder weather." Frost watched as Lyta began to settle down, and followed her example by sitting on his haunches, feeling his stiff muscles begin to loosen up.
He would be lying if he said he wasn't impressed by her being a leader, that meant she was strong and it only piqued his curiosity more. Idly his thoughts transitioned towards a spar, Frost was never keen on fighting his ice only ever being used to keep him alive and shelter him, never to cause harm. Maybe this red one could teach him a couple of things.
"I suspect it may get rather boring and cold down her as the sandstorm goes on. They last for hours sometimes. We'd better find some way to entertain ourselves."
Ahh boredom, a most unpleasing foe. The white wolf never had any problems with being bored, in fact he welcomed the nothingness, in a way it reminded him of before, he often gets glimpses of impressions and feelings of his past. Before he, well, became this. Lately, the wolf finds himself thinking about that more and more often.
Her tone was enough hint to Frost that she didn't want meaningless chatter, or simple conversation. Frost found himself not caring either way, but the blackness of the caves did begin to intrigue him, and they might as well see were they led. Stretching out his front legs the wolf stifled a yawn, it wasn't that he was sleepy persay, just a little deprived of energy, but this small break was enough for the wolf as he found himself regained of his strength. Or atleast some of it.
"Ahh although boring and cold i can handle, we might as well make use of the time's that been given to us." Looking in the direction behind her, he noted the darkness seemed to go on longer, the flames illuminating a slightly curved wall.
"Maybe we should see what truly lies within these caves, i find myself curious at what things we could encounter." Although Frost knew the chances of them finding anything interesting in the cave were slim, he hoped the mystery aspect of it would be enough to pique her interest. The wolf was officially taking on the task of keeping Lyta entertained as much as possible, feeling slightly remorseful that she was stuck with such a boring creature as him.
When happiness seems to be within our reach,
We reach out and find ourselves like fools [/b] Lyta && Frost NOTES; Sorry for the late reply D; life always gets in the way of things [/ul][/size][/font] |
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Post by Accalia on Feb 7, 2012 16:11:02 GMT -5
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Lyta was a serious wolf when she had to be. She knew enough about the trappings of power to realise the dignity associated with rank, and the cold detachedness associated with dignity. It was odd, to her; she respected those who showed the most life, the most emotion, for to her they were the wolves who knew the power of being alive. But others respected a serious wolf, unable to see leadership in somebody who joked and messed around.
However, when trapped in a cave with a white wolf who she would probably never need to exert power over, she couldn't help but loosen up a little. She might have been able to be serious when necessary, but she was lighthearted in the core of herself, the kind of wolf who liked to playfight and make cheesy jokes that nobody else found funny.
She noticed Frost flinching slightly at her flame and pulled them around herself, a cloak of fire. Her power was tiring to use anyway and she relaxed slightly as she extinguished the majority of the blaze. She hoped it wasn't fear; she wasn't a wolf to be scared of. She almost laughed out loud at that thought. If she wasn't a wolf to be scared of, she was a rabbit. But she did not find it likely at all that she'd feel the need to hurt this particular wolf, right at this particular time. If he didn't pose her a threat, she was willing to reciprocate that. And it didn't seem he did.
"I'm afraid we do not share similar views on the heat my friend. I've always been more inclined to colder weather."
Reassured by this statement that it was purely dislike for the heat and not fear that made Frost flinch, Lyta stretched luxuriously, her muscles relaxed, loose and long in the heat of the flames. She made no reply to his earlier statement, considering the flames now wrapped around herself as answer enough. She noted the other wolf stretching out his legs and wondered where he was going. If he knew of an escape route, she would go too. She was all too willing to get out of this stupid cave.
"Ahh although boring and cold I can handle, we might as well make use of the time's that been given to us." Frost looked in the direction behind Lyta herself and she glanced over her shoulder, half expecting to see a bear or some fearsome predator there about to pounce on them. Instead the flickering flames illuminated a curved wall, heading deeper into the darkness.
"Maybe we should see what truly lies within these caves, I find myself curious at what things we could encounter," Frost said.
Lyta's interest was immediately taken. She loved caves, she always had. One of the few great successes of her early life had been a quest through a cave system, and she closed her eyes for just a second, mourning what had been lost. Of all the failures and stupid mistakes and betrayals and losses of her life, not one had come about in a cave. Perhaps it was more than simple experience that taught her a liking for the places; she was an adventurous little thing, that single attribute saying more about her than any other thing ever could, and the mystery that always seemed to surround caves drew her in, made her eyes gleam and her heart wonder what they held. Of course, usually it was nothing. But the question remained, with each new place she travelled.
"Let's explore, then!" she agreed readily, and bounded off into the cave. The bad air hit her immediately, as she came out of reach of her symbol. Each breath she took was stale and she found herself deepening her breathing. Training prevented her from hyperventilating, but she took deep, long breaths, trying to force oxygen into her system. After a few moments she was recovered and used to the place and she bounded on, hoping Frost was following.
Remembering the possibility of a predator, she sent a bolt of fire down the tunnel, keeping it alight until it was too far away and she was forced to extinguish it. The tunnels carried on for quite a way, splitting and delving deeper into the earth. Lyta was fascinated now and she increased her pace. She hoped Frost didn't mind - things such as this drew her in with an eagerness she could barely constrain.
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I have my muse back! CELEBRATE! |
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Post by m o n d a y on Feb 12, 2012 15:59:52 GMT -5
I’m told that fate makes fun of us,
That it gives us nothing and promises everything,
Frost trailed after the red wolf, watching as she seemed somewhat eager to explore these caves. As they walked the change in the oxygen was obvious, as were the affects it was having on the wolves. Frost naturally took deep breathe's so the thinner air didnt bother him as much as it should have however he was slightly concerned over the other wolf, whom seemed to take a moment to compose her breathing. A shrill crack focused Frosts attention as he looked down to were the noise came from. A tiny spear of ice had fallen and cracked in half from the floor of the cave. Oh right, his breath.
The white wolf's powers were being used on their own accord again, and made his deep breaths convert to ice as they left his body. Usually they were not that big of ice particles but because of the thin air and his even deeper breathing than normally, they came out larger and thus were more noisy when they shattered.
The wolf would have to concentrate on his powers to stop that from happening, he redirected the flow to his fur, frost gathering on his tendrils and cooling his body. Most wolves wouldn't be able to last long in temperatures like this, but then again Frost wasn't most wolves. His black pupils took on their signature steel blue glow when his powers were in use. Looking toward the fire bolt the red one had shot out, he noted the length of the path was larger than he expected and was amused at his companion picked up the pace. Eager to explore.
Frost obliged and sped up, curious as to how far they planned on going.
They were about halfway from were the fire was extinguished when Frost heard it.
The unmistakeable flap of wings, one he was all to familiar with. The white wolf didn't even notice the dread was clear on his face as he let out a couple of frustrated "No, no, no." 's and walked even faster in the direction it came from.
Frost wasn't sure if he was just going mad and hearing it on his own accord but he had to prove himself wrong, had to prove he hadn't heard the demon bird. Looking back to see if the other wolf had followed his abrupt change of pace, he motioned towards his left were the noise came from.
"Can you illuminate that section?"
When happiness seems to be within our reach,
We reach out and find ourselves like fools [/b] Lyta && Frost NOTES; Yay :D *Throws confetti and brings out piñata* [/ul][/size][/font] |
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Post by Accalia on Feb 14, 2012 12:30:32 GMT -5
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Lyta extinguished more and more of her flames as she realised they were burning up oxygen, leaving herself with only a small blanket of hazy warmth and the occasionally burning bolt to light the way ahead.
A shrill crack made Lyta's head shoot around. She noticed the chill hanging around Frost's muzzle and fur, just like glowing heat surrounded her own like a cloak. What was that about? Was it some kind of magic?
Then she realised his eyes were glowing steel blue, a slightly creepy thing to watch. They made an odd counterpart to his white fur, frosty white and sky blue, like winter. She hated winter - she was a summer wolf through and through.
Gulping, she set her eyes on the trail ahead and acted as if she hadn't seen anything. Magic was normal enough, and many wolves' eyes changed colour when they used magic. But a power for cold, or ice, was completely alien to Lyta's nature. She was dealing with the unknown and she never liked that. Mystery, yes. But magic was something that intrigued her and scared her in equal parts. Not her own, of course. Fire was heat and warmth and light. Fire, to her, was normal. Ice... was a creepy thought.
Her keen eyes caught the flap of wings.
Huh? A bird? In a cave?
She heard Frost mutter, "No, no, no," and spun to face him. The dread was plain and clear to see on his face, and she wondered what kind of creature could scare him. He was a wolf. Wolves didn't get scared. Wolves had fangs and claws and strong lithe bodies. Or at least, she didn't make a habit of getting scared. Or she liked to think she didn't. But even so, it was just wings...
"What is..."
She didn't get any further as Frost was speeding off in the direction of the flapping. He motioned towards his left.
"Can you illuminate that section?"
Lyta sighed. She was getting tired with all this playing about with powers; symbols were easier, even if they weren't as powerful or useful. Fire sapped her life force constantly and by now she was panting in the thin cave air. Summoning flames, she threw them down the side passageway.
It illuminated a high-ceilinged passageway which seemed to open up into a large cavern about a hundred metres down.
It also showed her a crowd of birds the like of which she'd never seen before.
Lyta crept backwards, flames growing up about her in a pure defensive instinct as she crouched low to the ground, snarling and pinning back her ears. "Frost, get back," she growled. Her first instinct was to protect her fellow wolfkind, something which tossed her back through the years to the time when she had been taught that, had it rammed through her skull a thousand times. Besides... flames curled around her, her fangs bared. She unsheathed her claws. Whatever it was, she could handle it, she was sure.
Whether that was brave or idiotic, nobody could tell at this point.
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OOC: Left exactly what the birds are up to you My friend just texted me saying they found a 2nd World War unexploded bomb in the beach where she's staying 0.0 I hope she's okay... Curse you, Hitler. |
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Post by m o n d a y on Feb 14, 2012 18:55:57 GMT -5
I’m told that fate makes fun of us,
That it gives us nothing and promises everything,
Frost narrowed his eyes, body frozen in either anger or shock, he wasn't quite sure.
When Lyta illuminated the passage way, the black shapes were unmistakable to Frost. They were slightly deformed looking birds, midnight black with glowing red eyes. Eyes the wolf had seen into more times than he can imagine. Highly larger than the average crow, these things were massive, almost reaching wolf size. They huddled close together, and turned quickly towards the wolves as they appeared.
Flames suddenly burst to life from his companion, surrounding her in an almost protective shield as she drew back, fangs exposed. Warning him to get back.
However Frost didn't have a similar reaction, as he knew the crow was merely an illusionist, praying on those of weak minds or in this case, those who didn't expect such a scene. These beasts were merely an illusion, harmless and if attacked would simply burst into clouds of transparent wispy smoke. The crow was a devious trickster, and took pleasure in the fear of others.
The white wolf let out a growl, and opened his mouth to explain to the red wolf what was going on but was interrupted by the cackle of the birds. They let out choppy maniacal laughter, sounding strange because of the light chirps and whistles heard in between.
Suddenly, all at once they lept up from their resting spot as flew at an alarming rate towards the wolves. On pure instinct a wall of ice formed in front of Frost before he could react, it was his body's survival instinct. It seemed to have a mind of its own most of the time, as it would automatically protect Frost before he could even think. He realized he would have to explain his ice at some point, but Lyta seemed like a rather intelligent wolf, and part of Frost thought he didn't need to say anything and she would understand on her own.
The demon crow's only continued their laughter.
When happiness seems to be within our reach,
We reach out and find ourselves like fools [/b] Lyta && Frost NOTES; Thanks c: i just thought it was about time for the crow to make an appearance, since he always makes things interesting and is insanely fun to write x) Whoa i don't know whether that's scary or cool(not that your friend being in a potentially dangerous scenario is cool xD, i just think the World War II era is so fascinating) I wonder how they found it~ [/ul][/size][/font] |
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Post by Accalia on Mar 6, 2012 15:19:46 GMT -5
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Lyta was accustomed to battle fury; it was part of her, like her ears or heart or razor claws. She had always been a fire wolf, not just in terms of magic, or her stupid red pelt, but also the way she grokked the bright warm flickering ferocity of flames. When she was ready, when she was prepared, Lyta could be detached from a fight, she could fight fast, though never exactly sneaky.
The laughter of the things, those misshapen black birds, freaked her out, beyond any such state of calm. It was one of those things which were alien to her nature. Lyta lived in the bright places; the dark, the macabre, the ancient, the immortal, the cursed, the cold. All of these were things she could not cope with.
This laughter sunk into the cracks in her mind and filled them and widened them. Her eyes narrowed. Get rid of those things!
She tried to pull up more fire, but she was out of it, out of fire, out of magic. She cursed, too tired to pull more energy from her weakening body. Well, she would just have to fight it out physically. In a way, she didn't regret that. The thrill of the fight was singing through her veins.
She noticed Frost's wall of ice slam up beside her. An inner, deep part of her acknowledged it with a smile; he was magical, like her, he understood the pull of the wild elements. She hoped. The rest of her spirit didn't notice much, full of fire.
She leapt at the crows, slashing with her huge razor claws, snarling, tail lashing. She lashed out and found only thin air under her paws. Landing awkwardly, she twisted up and struck again, only to find the crows burst into thin wisps of smoke.
Confused, angry, still defiant and full of the fight, but beginning to feel fear. Lyta pressed herself low to the ground, head twisting as she tried to see all the crows flying around her at once. She growled, uncertain. What were these things that disappeared when she hit them, yet seemed to make her body instinctively scream with adrenaline?
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OOC: I am SO sorry, this reply is very late, I am hopeless at time management... D: Friend is fine by the way.  |
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Post by m o n d a y on Mar 11, 2012 17:02:39 GMT -5
I’m told that fate makes fun of us,
That it gives us nothing and promises everything,
Glowing blue eyes darted towards their companion widening slightly. He watched almost as if he was away from his body, and observer of sorts floating in air. He watched silently as Lyta rose from the ground and slashed at the crows, fully intent on terminating their lives. The results were what he expected.
She was fighting nothing but air and Frost had to tell her. With a growl, the white wolf dropped the wall and braced his back legs, pushing forward off the ground he leaped towards her. His body was half on top of hers, one paw over her and his blacklegs to her side.
He concentrated and above them the air seemed to crystallize, gaining shape seemingly from nothing. A thin curved ice blockade quickly came into existence, and by adding slightly more force, needle sized spikes darted out from the ice, effectively dissolving the crows. The needles stuck to the top of the cave, looking almost like tiny icicles.
Meanwhile this was going on, Frost had lowered his face closer to Lyta's, in order for her to hear him over the sounds of the crows.
"Calm yourself Red One, they are merely illusions casted by a demon." Frost maneuvered himself so he wasn't over her, and narrowed his eyes towards the last crow figure. However this one was comparably smaller, and its gleaming red eyes full of mirth.
Its stare was unnerving as it pierced through you and never blinked. The crow flapped his wings, and a frustrated but laughter filled noise escaped him. "Aww, why do you have to go and ruin all the fun Frosty. I was just getting started."
Its eyes landed on Lyta eyes gleaming more than before.
"Isn't he such a spoil sport?"
Frost let out a growl and sent a ice needle towards the crow, which in turn managed to dodge it last minute with a high pitched chirp escaping him.
Turning towards Lyta, the white wolf struggled to calm himself.
"Are you injured friend?"
When happiness seems to be within our reach,
We reach out and find ourselves like fools [/b] Lyta && Frost NOTES; [/ul][/size][/font] |
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Post by Accalia on Mar 18, 2012 8:02:25 GMT -5
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Lyta snarled helplessly as she was pushed to the ground by Frost, trapped half underneath his body with the hordes of not-crows surrounding them. Ice filled the air and then suddenly they were gone. Lyta shivered, both with simple cold and the sinisterness of the crows and the ice and the dark.
Maybe the sandstorm had ended. She wanted to go home. It wasn't a very dignified or leaderly thing, to be afraid, but she was. Annoyed at herself, she pushed it to the back of her mind.
She didn't like Frost on top of her. She wanted to get up and fight. If there were more, she wanted to slash them into smoke. She didn't really care if they didn't die. Struggling fiercely, she hissed, "Get off me!"
"Calm yourself Red One, they are merely illusions casted by a demon."
Lyta shivered again and stopped struggling. Frost manoeuvred himself so he wasn't over her, so she got up and stared at the last crow. Presumably, then, this was the illusion-maker. It was smaller than those others, and the young red wolf wondered at the magic of any being that could create such an illusion. Her own magic - excepting the symbols, which weren't hers, they were just things she'd learnt - was powerful, but it was raw power, rough and untamed. She shot fire at stuff, that was it, no skill involved. She imagined the mind that could control so many illusions, the strength of will to hold every one in your mind, and shivered for the third time. Though tired and fed up, and well in sight of both her newest friend and the enemy crow, she scratched a symbol, iacasha, in the little dust and mud there was on the tunnel's floor. She was far too tired to use her fire magic now. It emitted a little warmth and she sat on it with a slight relief, then resumed glaring at the crow.
"Aww, why do you have to go and ruin all the fun Frosty. I was just getting started."
Lyta spat as it met her eyes. She did not like this. She was a creature of the day, fire and warmth and rough courage. It was difficult for her to handle that which was dark, or sinister, or cold, or all three. The crow had an unblinking stare, but she refused to look away, although eventually had to blink.
"Isn't he such a spoil sport?"
She heard a growl beside her and ice flew towards the crow. It dodged, however, and Lyta was all out of fire. She hoped it would get closer, to allow a physical attack. She supposed she could eat it - though she wasn't sure if it would taste good. She resolved to try.
"Are you injured friend?"
"Not at all," the red wolf replied, though in truth she was a little sore, and drained from the magic use. But she wasn't admitting that in front of whatever this bird was. It seemed to be a crow, but there was often a big difference between seeming and being.
"Are you?" she asked in reply.
She took several paces towards the crow, then instantly regretted being away from the iacasha. Cold flooded her body, and she felt a little faint. Hardening her eyes so it would not show, she showed her teeth to the crow. "And you? You injured? Feel free to come down if so, so I can finish the job."
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