EHEM

[sombra]

Silence. It was a pleasure to behold, and an even greater pleasure to dwell in. Regrettably all things must come to an end, and I reasoned that every creature was allotted a certain amount of happiness, finite and obviously granted at random intervals. This is highly inconvenient, and for my part I cursed the cosmos. I despised them and karma as well. Karma. The very idea. A mild snort deposited itself amongst the decibels, the dewy atoms pluming beneath the coal extreme of my nostrils. Placid sapphiric irises, vibrant in the position within the otherwise immaculate façade, glaring out into the spacious glade. Pedestrian. But upon the adjective I came to the conclusion that a great majority of my thoughts were solitary, not to the magnitude of an epiphany and only served the purpose of stating the obvious. That being said I truly enjoy the way I think. It was simple. It didn’t put me on a pedestal in my own mind, a characteristic I had constantly spent my time avoiding. Dogs were known for sniffing each other’s rear ends, and lycans were known for having their head stuck up their own. Brows creased reticently, and a mild sneer curled my labrums. Extensive appendages were set into locomotion, the pace a steady, sure-footed one that could only be described as poised. Ridiculous talons sank into the topsoil carelessly, skull ducking to the loam in an inquisitive fashion. ”Virgin.” I murmured in a thoughtlessly pleased way, the fur aloft my spine bristling as my skull ascended and tipped…back…back…and up. The ferns were filled with my commanding notes, resonating amongst the sparse bark covered giants. In summary, I said;

This….is mine.

Upon finishing my minor masquerade, my hindquarters descended abruptly, a finalizing action. Mine. In all honesty I hadn’t the faintest idea why I had done what I’d done. Another entertaining about you Sombra. You don’t know you. Breathing a temperate sigh, I reveled in the comfort of my home. ”Home….Sombra you sentimental fool.” I knew that. I knew being sentimental was a problem I suffered from…every day. For seven and a half centuries. Seven hundred and fifty long years. Primarily alone. Now that’s just sad. I scowled, a low snarl rumbling within the depths of my throat and torso, my diaphragm trembling with the action. The tip of my tail flicked, the slender extension smacking the topography in a thoughtful fashion. Fog. That was an interesting development, and it was developing rather quickly. Cobalt spheres pivoted slowly, and I remained utterly dormant as it began to shroud the alabaster structure I called my own. It enveloped me and I felt suddenly more invisible than usual. My shoulders rolled, and I basked in the fact that it would be difficult for anyone on this planet to find me. What an odd thing for a pack animal to say. Especially because I had been born of the pack persuasion. But a loner I was. Or at least, I had been. Lobes descended slowly, and my brows creased. A hollow “woof” sounded, almost a cough as I rose and began to pace …seven steps in one direction, seven steps in the next and suddenly I began to wander in circles. Almost as if I was rotated or orbiting. Now what? What was there to do?! There was no one to boss around just yet…Disappointing. My labrums curled upward, incisors dull without the aid of light to coax their glistening. A calming snarl was allowed to snap out into the ambiance, a release of the steam that was beginning to build. Anxiety. Boredom. Entertain me.

[[MEGan!]]

I'm gonna touch you 'cause I like it

The haunting silence of the moors was welcoming to the figure who found himself upon its doorstep, a masculine large and ghastly - the King of all. His massive form drifted into the realm openly, hardly worried about anyone who prowled. The ground, damp and firm, wet his clawed paws as he crept along, eyes rigid and ears alert. His tail swished behind him, beaded with moisture. Where his feet fell, his claws ripped the loam, leaving a tale of his silent passing. Beautiful the moors were, yet deadly, and the masculine was tense, careful for underlying bogs.

As he swept along, a sudden scent drifted into his nares, burning into his mind. His whole body froze up, and a shudder rippled down his spine. Those olive eyes, usually so mirthless, suddenly lighted, and his course changed as he sped up. The ground was torn into chunks that flew behind him, mud splattering his thick fur coat, twice as heavy with the deadly winter that was so much more milder here.

He slowed, suddenly, as he realized just how close this other being was. He paused, and, in the seclusion of the shadows, studied her for a moment. A quirked, odd smile slowly morphed his face before he brushed it away as he viewed her circling antics. A loud snort was instantly issued from him at this, but then the fog became far too thick for him to see through. Warily, he stepped once, then twice, and slowly picked his way through the murk.

And finally, face to face he suddenly found himself with the dame, almost too close. He came to a jerking stop, the wind rippling his fur. There was a moment of silence, in which several emotions flashed in a toil across his face. And then, he spoke.

"Sombra," he mused softly.

But he stopped, as one emotion finally dominated, and a ripping snarl burst into the air, breaking through the erie silence. His hackles bristled into a thick ridge down his nape and spine, his tail stiffening behind him. His ears slipped back, sticking firmly to the base of his skull as his teeth gnashed towards her, saliva writhing in a rope from his jowls. Muscles tensed and body held arrogantly, his proud skull lowered to her level, which wasn't that far, much to his great annoyance. Sombra, one of few he deemed his equal. Yet now he stood before his, glorious in his madness, an image of brutality.

"Where have you been?" he snarled, rage burning forward.

For now, he was mostly sedated, holding his rancor on a tight rein, on the edge of losing it as he leaned in dangerously, murder in his eyes. A low growl, thunderous and deep, rumbled in his throat warningly. Her disappearence was an old pain, one he had pushed away, but the sight of her, once his best friend, awakened more bitterness towards her abandonment than he thought possible.

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when you scream.

[sombra]

Survival. It was a topic I had grown obsessed with throughout the years, and I had even gone so far as to develop a philosophy as to what survival meant. Was it just making it? Was it limited to self preservation? In my opinion yes, yes it was. I had survived. Not happily. I don't recall the last time I was content. That was a saddening fact, and I paused in mid stride at the ephiphany, a sigh sounding through the murky ambiance and stirring the mist who was already unsettled. Someone was moving around. But I was busy. Too busy, in fact to glance up as the heavy pounding of paws in the grime notified me of a proximate being. Pupils crew to minor crescents of wariness, but I did not heed this being. Simply paced that same row, skull dipped to the muddy water below.

The once immaculate pelt was covered in the muck and filth, and I appeared quite the ragmuffin. That was a quality I deemed refreshing ; I didn't care what I appeared to be. I knew what I was. That was enough. Cobalt pools were similarly dirty - shards of thought, remembrance and fervor dotting the glazed sapphires. Nostrils quivered and I recalled it...that scent. I knew it. I knew it better than my own. It was intoxicating. Like a drug I would never quite get out of my system. Sawblade. A moment ticked by and I had grown still, rigid and waiting - muscles tense as if I were prepared for an attack. And I was. An attack on my senses - the assault on my heart, my mind and my resolve. At that point I didn't realize just how easy he was going to make this.

As my name was seemingly whispered to me, I turned to peer skeptically over my shoulder as if I meant to ignore him. If only I were that strong willed. Breathing a resigned sigh, I wished I could have mirrored his initial thoughts of me. But his were as they always had been - carefree. Only concerned with himself. Turning on my haunches, my gaze met his level one unrepentedly. The hostile lyrics were caught but I did not so much as flinch, simply lifted a brow and a lip in defense. Where had I been. Oh so you noticed I was gone? Or did someone tell you. It was tugging at my own threshold of bitterness, the emotion repressed in spades. The fact that he perhaps meant me bodily harm was overlooked - he would do what he liked no matter what I did or said. I obviously mattered very little in this equation.

Speaking of equations, I reasoned he wanted a verbal answer. "Here and there. You?" The fashion in which I responded was maddeningly casual. A thousand other sentences bounced around my cerebrum; did you miss me that much? how are you? Have I ever mentioned I can't breathe without you? Things like that. But none of those suited me quite right. They hinted too much and the weight of my anguish was already crushing my heart. Breathing a sigh once more, I stood stock still, awaiting the dramatic response I had no doubt warranted...in his book.

[[MEGan!]]

So show some respect

Quiet, he studied her apprehensively, wary of her response, yet subtle in his observations. A soft breeze touched him, sending his thick, toussled fur into a slight waver. The wind was not as strong here as at the Kayan River Basin, where snow almost always draped the grounds, except for the short few weeks in summer where the sun dared shine. Freezing. Comforting, as if the land had been brought down to his level. His nostrils flared just a tad, and his ears twitched carefully as he waited impatiently for her answer. His pupils, narrowed to terrifyingly small slits, were focused unbreakingly on her. But he knew. Oh, how he knew. She would only anger him more. Her calmness was always something he could not match. With anyone else, yes, he could keep his calm to only ignite their rage into a burning inferno rather than a smoldering hot breath. Yet Sombra gave him a doce of his own medicine, a wicked poison that could tear your soul. He gave a low guaff, body jolting slightly, and his upper lip lifted just a tad more.

And then she spoke. Those words she gave him were just what he did not need. Utter dismissal. His jaws parted for a moment, tongue rolling over yellowed, ancient teeth razor sharp and built for ripping and mutilating. He inhaled slowly, shivering for a moment with cold rage. A roar began to wallow in his throat, his proud head lowering, not in submission, but in a savage stance. Then, he stopped. Thought a moment. And a cracked grin slowly split his worn face, a grin fit for a malicious and ravaging killer. His skull lifted once more, and though his ears were still pinned snugly to it and malice glinted in his deadened eyes, he reigned his temper. He would not fall to this. He was better. Once again, he repeated that roll of his tongue over his dentates and fangs just over 3 inches.

"Just here," he mused almost off-handedly, his voice quiet and almost unheard, soft; but his opaque eyes spoke otherwise. The wicked grin quickly dispersed, and when his face was wiped of emotion and he stood expressionless, worn features broke through, and the corners of his lips turned slightly down. Yet this was nothing new. He had almost always been this way. Almost always.

He exhaled heavily, and his yes flickered away, gaze lingering through the thick fog as he tried to see something other than the ashen feminine before him who almost blended into the drapings of mist that coiled trecherously at his feet. For a small moment, he continued this unpractically. Soon, he gave, and again averted his gaze from the hopeless veil to his age old friend. His brow loftily rose, a cocky air adorning him as he held his tongue, having at least enough manners to cease his rage for now. He did, actually, feel just a tad guilty for his swift rancor towards her, but what's done is done, and there was no room in his sooty and inanimate heart for apologies.

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because breaking your promise is easy as breaking your neck.

[sombra]

Some things never change. I reasoned it quietly to myself as I stared at the sage coloured features of the masculine beast I have no doubt I will love for all eternity. Brows ascended in direct reference to the frigid sound that had begun to spout past the bared fangs of the behemoth. No utterance was allowed to be summoned in reply, I remained quiet and poised. Yes, Sawblade. I suffer this in silence. I suffer for you in silence. And there you are snarling as if I’m some fool whelp you plan on teaching a lesson. My torso ached, the region where I would imagine my heart is, clenching with anguish as I observed the “fit” of sorts.


Mild disinterest was taken in the façade he presented me. I know you better than that, my friend. It was as if he were a kitten…which is an interesting visual, let me tell you. Not many others visualized the lycan king as a mewing feline. It was a unique relationship, what Saw and I had. One that I would not trade for anything no matter how much it pained me to continue on. I had avoided him for a reason. The unfeeling statement did not touch at me at all, and a lobe descended as I blinked but stared thoughtfully on at him. The fact that his gaze was no longer upon me made it easier for my expression to soften to what it habitually was. It was thoughtful and poised, but ever calculating. As though I did not trust him not to have a second thought and leap at me.


I wished him luck if that was going to be his final decision. If that was his plan then his reign would be a short one. I hoped that was not the case in spite of myself. I wanted only the best for this male. Which made me more resigned to the fact that him not wanting me made sense. I was far from the best. I was not dainty. Or pleasant to speak with. I was only what I had always been and that is why we would always be as we were now. The best of friends. He was the only being I called “friend”. And I ventured to guess I was one of his better ones. ”Time has treated you well.” I observed casually, a regarding look appealing more to the statement than the afore words. It was a calm appraising look. It was the look of one who was familiar with its counterpart. I knew each curve and hair aloft his skull by heart, had it committed to memory. I knew that odd colored mongrel. So well. It was ridiculous how long we had known each other. It was ridiculous how long we had put up with each other. Frowning silently, I shifted and found myself to be the one whose gaze was unfocused. It was set upon him but my eyes were glazed over, transported to another time and place.


He couldn’t decide how he felt. My breath had quickened but being the almighty actress I maintained a calm display, and nodded. I told him to say how he felt. I told him to follow his heart. All those things I told him led him to another she-wolf. He had had feelings for her when I thought he was going to confess such things to me. As soon as that realization had hit me it felt as though someone had knocked me off my feet. I could barely breathe. It was a soul shattering experience.


That’s an interesting sob story, isn’t it? And the sad thing is it was what made me the way I am. Withdrawn, quiet…stable within my shell but nigh untouchable at this point. I was a victim of love. There were so many that that claim hardly made me special. Now that I was finished taking me apart within, I glanced calmly at my counterpart, the tip of my tail flicking thoughtfully. Talons tug into the composition and I breathed a deep, ragged sigh. ”What have you been up to? And don’t answer this and that.” The last bit was snapped, my own pupils narrowing with the obvious remnants of frustration. This was difficult as is. He would make it worse at this rate…Ah well. No rest for the weary.

[[MEGan!]]

His stomach actually jolted painfully at the words she spoke, about time having treating him well. As so common with the heathen, he locked up. Everything about him changed suddenly - lowered hackles, blank face, tired, relaxed ears held lazily - but his eyes were listless and unfocused as he peered into an abyss in some distant world. His teeth, each one a perfect, curved, razor sharp dagger, grinded harshly, and his overgrown fangs nearly cut through his lips. The small breeze curled around his feet and nipped at his fur, yet he was unmoving, quiet. He didn't breathe. Didn't even look at her. A low sigh slipped into the muggy world around him, almost unheard, barely there. That seemed to bring him back, and his hollow, cold eyes flickered back to the pallid dame, their olive base with bronze touches glinting faintly, ash that circled the pupil stretching outwards. Another sigh, this one more of a tired snort, escaped his nares. He let her statement go without contradiction, even though it had trigged some hoard of biting memories. Has it really, Sombra? Has time really treated me so amazingly well? he growled bitterly in his mind, but again, he held his tongue.

So now, he studied her own little, ah, spacing. His face remained very expressionless, mellow as he observed her openly. Nothing had changed. Nothing, except him. No longer could he risk the chances of being so open as he had. Fatally, it had gotten him into this mess. His upper lip furled slightly as that name, that nasty, brutal name. Caidas. He could practically taste that silly, arrogant Thestral's blood. He almost escaped into a torrent of hateful thoughts, but he ceased, blinking slowly. Time for wallowing in rage could be made up for later.

Finally, she came back down from wherever she had escaped to, and he shifted, hesitated, then allowed himself to relax. His legs folded, and he settled into a sitting position, one that was ready to spring at anything. As soon as that name had entered his mind, he was suddenly reminded of the unstable trance of his land. He developed a sudden disliking to the thick fog that draped the land. His suddenly hunting eyes searched it hopelessly, though he quickly reminded himself of his company and tried, really tried, to muster up some sort of counterance for her presence.

When she spoke, words that ended with quick witted snap, he couldn't help himself. A rumbling chuckle spilled ffrom his larynx, and his eyes rolled - almost like a little kid. But Saw's sarcasm was no childish play. He eyed her coolly for a moment, bitter amusion stretched on his worn features. "Sombra. Don't," he snorted blatantly, teeth flashing in a quick, spiteful smile, "be such a hypocrite." With a reaproachful glare, he shifted and sighed wistfully. She had hardly quenched the thirst for an answer from her. For anyone else, much more than that would have been given, oh yes, much more. But he obliged, only because it was for her. Although, he did pause, the words smoldering in his mouth. He almost held them in, but he couldn't hold such a bitter world all to himself. "Severa was killed, as well as my commander," he started, daring not to go into too much depth. "Cruor fell apart. All because of one....tiny....pony." As each word was given, his voice grew deeper and harsher with a blaze of malevolence, and he was suddenly that hateful beast again. Hackles on end, teeth bared to the gums, tail stiff, ears held firmly to his skull; but he had learned over time to stop himself. He slowly unwound, and averted his eyes, yet there was no where for his gaze to escape to, and a frustrated sigh exhaled lividly, with a tired edge. "War, naturally, is at hand." He stopped from saying more, stopped from spilling his weary soul, stopped from almost showing just a slight of remorse. He would not. Years of molding into the shut off masculine he was knew better. A tiny corner of his mind, though, almost wanted to. Just a tiny corner. The rest hungered for revenge against the stone hearted hellion that had ripped this land straight to hell.

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[sombra]

There aren’t many things that I believe warrant more searing, inescapable pain than being stuck within the murk of my memoirs. But this was one of the top contenders on that short list. The aging weary expression that now flitted over the warm colored beast’s countenance urged my breath to catch in my throat and I turned my gaze downward abruptly – hiding the agony that I could not veil otherwise. He’ll be okay. You’ll save him or die trying. But he’ll be okay. I consoled myself frantically attempting to guise the worry that strained my features. The moment he seemed to settle then, lapsing into a position similar to her own lazed sit but he was not at rest; my eyes followed his always searching gaze calmly though compassion swelled in my heart. I was of the type that became resigned to things I could not change, and revenge was not a seed within me. I did not care for it. I believed only in defense and not of the attack itself. Which was perhaps what made these lands so ideal. I could escape in the murk so simply.

That familiar, cold chuckle caught my attention and curved it back to him rather than the internal inspection I was doing. Being called a hypocrite didn’t bother me as much as him commanding me not to do something. I took it very seriously. A free spirit of sorts, I did not take orders lightly or happily. The fur at my nape bristled, rising into feral spines as my nostrils fluttered. Taking several deep, calming breaths I poured resolve upon resolve over my burning pride in an attempt to strengthen my defenses and cage the beast that would desire to roar its indignant reproach. But I was not to be disappointed too bitterly this day and I listened with an intense countenance of intrigue, harks tips high over my forehead and unmoving. Murder. Scandal. It all seemed so much like a Roman Empire of sorts. It occurred to me that I should feel some sadness as well – having been a part of Cruor at some point in time but I could not coax the fervor. I observed too, in silence as he bent and warped and became the behemoth I knew him capable of being

. A lobe swiveled but otherwise I remained unmoving and seemingly unaffected. That was my scar and mask. You explode and I implode… I observed. Which was of course a humorous thought but it seemed what emotion he felt right now was more a strained one I did not chuckle or show signs of mirth that my musings induced. ”War.” I repeated the word and was not surprised at the bad taste it left in my mouth. My nostril ridge wrinkled, disclosing the fine tips of my incisors but not more. Disdain for the topic was evident but even worse was the lost expression on his face. Again my lungs threatened not to pump air and my pupils digressed. ”I’ve been wandering. Honestly here and there. I would have elaborated but there wasn’t more to say. I’m sorry you have suffered though.” I breathed a sigh, having effectively distracted myself from thinking of his face and pain to thinking of where I had been. Honestly I didn’t know what to call it. There was no label to the lands I had wandered. I simply knew that I had traveled the mountains, to the deserts and at one point I recall a beach very distinctly but a rocky, cold one.

I did not venture into the details as far as reasons for my vagrancy. I had left and returned for the same reason; because I loved him. It was my turn to appear wary and oppressed. But the expression was not allowed to stick, I simply cleared my throat and peered at him, gripping the terra firma with my talons as I stared at it – the soft composition practically melting in my grip. I trembled and sighed before flopping to the moist ground. Mud already tainted the otherwise immaculate colored pelt and I had no interest in my appearance these days. Who did I have to impress? Who cared what I look like? Nobody. Breathing shallowly, I was silent and probably nearly invisible at this point in time, the murk floated over me in sheets. The sole hint of my presence beneath it was the flick of my tail parting the substance in rhythm with my heart which I was listening to at the present time. I felt empty. I felt alone. More alone than I usually felt which was probably because I was in another’s presence and knew that I felt alone which made the feeling sink in worse. Like a knife to my heart. Ah well. If it’s not someone else shanking my heart it’s me doing it to myself. Glad for the consistence though.