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Post by WarPaint on May 2, 2018 14:40:28 GMT
Blue skin pelted in a thin curtain of gun metal fur slunk forth, an image of pale grimness. Ragged nails that tapered into tight muscular toes marred the damp worm food below. His shocking appearance of heavy scarring reminiscent of rhino skin flashed in between the sheets of fog and mist that wound down the mountain.
Like a cloak it shielded the the phantom, only ever letting his frame become visible here and there. Eyes like cloudy citrine ,bore out of a finely chiseled head, handsome beneath the scars that puckered his dermis. Handsome did indeed hide behind the ragged tapestry that were his ears, they framed his face in ghastly curtains.
Behind the phantom, a swirling mass of fiery orange and onyx tumbled behind. ”Papa, I'm tired..and you walk to fast.” Kabra cocked an erect audit towards his fox kit. Kismet had taken to calling him Papa all his own and it touched the blue dog deeply. Together they had escaped torture and abuse and Kabra had adopted Kismet as his own. ”Come here pup, I'll carry you until we find someplace to rest.” Kismet blundered past his clumsy nature and jumped up to lick Kabras jaw. Settling beneath his father until tentative fangs latched around his nape and lifted him upwards.
The tiny fox kit curled into a ball and remained as still as possible, hanging like a pendulum. They walked together for what seemed like forever in comfortable silence. Until, finally, they found a clearing bordered by tall bushes. The early sunlight peaked through, casting shadows and brilliant rainbows. Kabra settled in the middle of the clearing, gently placing his cub on the ground. Kismets curiosity grew unchecked and the rambunctious cub raced around, eager to check out the place. He stopped short, digging his feet into the ground when a twig snapped behind one of the bushes.
The fox kit grew still, lowering himself to the ground and flattening his ears clean to his skull. ” Papa..papa.”His words tumbled out in a frightened mess of fear and uncertainty. Kabra lurched to his feet, a snarl clear in his throat. The instinct to protect his son vibrated through his whole being. The fur that stood up in a ridge on his back now lined him from the top of his skull clear to his tail. ”Take one more step near my cub and I'll gut your sorry ass.”
The warning cut clear across the distance separating father and son. Kabra stood like pins and needles, ready to leap to his cubs defense. Every fiber of his being felt like raw electricity. Kismet shrunk before him, making himself as small as possible. He knew Kabra would protect him but fear still dominated him.
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Sorry for his initial aggression to any who responds lmao FEEL FREE TO GODMOD KABRA OR KISMET
[//blockquote]
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Offline
May 27, 2018 22:26:05 GMT
Tag me @ripple
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Post by ripple on May 3, 2018 21:10:02 GMT
N A S H The sounds of the forest were the wolf's anthem as he prowled through the teeming undergrowth. He was pushing his way through a tangle of honeysuckle, his long form sliding through the foliage as well as a fish glides through the riffles of a riverbed. He was almost invisible in the shadows, his coat doing well to camouflage him in the almost artistic shadows cast by the thick canopy overhead.He could hear the clicking and whir of numerous insects above, the calls of wild birds, and the babbling of a small stream. It was as close to home as Nash could be without actually returning, and a bright optimism was glowing inside him. Though he was a wolf, he did not pleasure himself with stalking small creatures like a dangerous shark. Instead, he was content to simply just be apart of the forest community, to enjoy every part of it without consuming everything.It was not like the wolf to be a peaceful thing, at least not in his homeland. Wolves were expected to be extremely ferocious and territorial, things of power and violence. Nash's family had elected to reject such stereotypes and lived as they pleased, only defending their homeland when necessary and only taking from the land when they needed. He was not here in this new woodland to dominate it or claim it. He was merely a placid traveler, amused and enthused with the amount of life that was thriving around him.It wasn't until he sensed he was not alone in the forest that the real trouble started, but it was not trouble Nash went looking for but that did not stop trouble from finding the black and silver male. He was a friendly creature at best, always enjoying a good joke and he loved to laugh. It brought humor and smiles to himself and others, but Nash was foolish and immature at times, not realizing that sometimes others did not see a joke as a joke, especially when it incited fear.
So when he noticed the dog strolling through the woods, he hadn't thought he would have a fox with him, let alone a cub. He just noticed the stranger rippling through the undergrowth and Nash thought of nothing but how fun it might be to scare this guy.The wolf had not seen or heard the fox kit, he just saw snatches of the dog's body. He looked like a grim fellow to Nash's yellow hues, a creature carved from stone and cast in iron from what little vision Nash could lock on to him. It was childish to immediately want to scare him for his grim manner, but Nash was not known for thinking things entirely through. He saw a lackluster sort of attitude, somebody who wasn't enjoying the day.He reacted to the appearance of the dog with a wolfish grin upon his black lips, humor dancing within his eyes and making his muzzle a handsome canvas. He immediately dropped himself low, his feet gliding silently along the forest floor as he crept like a sneak thief in the night, waiting to jump out and scare the hell out of this dude.
The wolf kept good pace with the dog, his black ears not hearing the talk between dog and fox over the deafening hum of summer cicadas. Nash was grinning largely now, almost close to laughing and giving himself away before he could actually finish out his prank.
He was now lurking the in bushes outside a wonderfully brilliant clearing. Nash was still so intent on pulling this prank, but he was shocked to see a flash of brilliant orange in the dog's mouth. It was a wriggly fox, chirping affectionately at the large brute.
Humor and laughter all but fled, leaving Nash feeling nervous. The dog didn't look like he was about to eat the fox for lunch and he was pretty sure he heard the fox call the dog Papa. That changed things and made his joke less funny. It made him seem cruel. Who would scare a young one, even a fox, on purpose? Nash liked to scare adults, not kids. The little creature was bumbling around and exploring, coming closer and closer still to where Nash had been waiting to scare the burly big dog. Papa, as it seemed to be.
He was attempting to abort mission when he was backed up too quickly, his left hind paw snapping a stick. It was like a beacon or alarm, immediately giving him away. He could hear the fox whimpering and the dog snarling, shouting to the location where Nash was crouched. The wolf thought about just turning tail and running, but he had backed up to quickly and planted his hindquarters right into a tangle of ivy. The herbaceous ropes were making a hasty getaway impossible, and Nash figured his best chance at not getting his ass kicked was to come clean and show himself.
"No need, no need," he tried to yell back with friendliness, but it came out more nervous than convincing. He was rustling around in the bushes now, working to untangle himself from the vines. "I don't mean any harm, I was just walking through the woods and got myself in a bit of a tangle," he lied, hoping to make himself appear benign, simply a foolish traveler who had been dumb enough to go exploring in the bushes to get himself caught up in the plants. He hadn't been seen yet by dog or fox, but Nash had this feeling that all credibility he had might be moot once they saw who Nash was.
A wolf.
He was still huffing and puffing, the bushes alive with the motion of the long-limbed wolf trying to free himself. He was growing more anxious, the threat of the dog's anger still waiting for him once he was able to escape the vines. He gave one last tremendous pull to his hindquarters, exploding from the bushes in quite an entrance. Leaves and twigs were twisted in his thick black and silver coat, his yellow eyes looking from dog to fox. A sheepish grin spread out across his lips and his ears laid back against his head. He was fully visible now, a wolf. Not only that, but a wolf who had been lurking in the bushes and stalking.
It was a terrible circumstance, indeed.
"Hi there," Nash hoped his charisma was enough to save his hide.
1087words | WarPaint | Aha, poor nash.... ulla |
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Post by WarPaint on May 4, 2018 1:43:45 GMT
The air surrounding the clearing bristled with the raw energy of Kabra. Almost cackling with the intensity of his demeanor, everything else seemed motionless. As if the forest itself was giving audience to the blue dogs display of ferocity. Auburn eyes settled briefly on to the young kit cowering in the sunlight. Kabras heart was rendered so intensely he could feel an ache radiate him. A pure and primal urge to protect his cub. They had survived so much together and nothing would tear him away from his son. Something many had laughed at, a dog with a fox kit. A dog who called said fox kit his said and in return was called Papa by the orange and black youngling.
Finally a voice spoke, giving credence to Kismets fears and justifying the snarl that frothed and foamed Kabras black lips. His rigid form shook with anticipation, a hair pin away from an explosive display of feral rage. Kismet cast a glance at his father, searching the incensed canine for reassurance. The tiny youngling always took comfort in his father, he remembered very little of his life before but he had always known the blue beast to be present. Always a lurking presence ready to snatch him up when he tumbled, or a warm blanket when the nights drew cold. His tiny gold orbits had small tears forming in them, he didn't like seeing his Papa enraged and he feared for others when his temper grew unchecked. Although that raw energy had never been directed towards him, he knew just how completely destructive it could be.
He heard those words calling for a truce. Blue ears flickered at the distinct staccato of a Male, Kabra was sizing his opponent as best he could. Years of arena fighting left him with little apprehension, death did not frighten him. But what the world had to offer to his pup did. It struck a cold note like ice in his veins when he thought of Kismet being exposed to the terrors of the world. For they no longer stalked just the shadows they basked in the very sun, free of their nocturnal cloaks. A sound like snapping wire thrust his stranger into plain view of Kabra and Kismet. A god damn wolf. Froth and saliva ripped free of his jaw escorted by a snarl that came from the depths of his chest. Wolves..wolves, the god damn charlatans of the wilderness.
In a bound and a leap, Kabra closed the gap between his cub and the wolf. He towered over Kismet, planting himself squarely in between the invader and his cub. Kismet shrank under his Da, scuttling in a clumsy shuffle backwards until he was near his hind legs. Kismet touched his small nose to his father's leg, letting him know where he was and comforting himself with the closeness of Kabra. The blue phantom rose to his full height, staring the wolf in his own yellow orbs with his icy ones. “If you're looking for an easy lunch, he aint the one.” His voice grew quiet, hardly a whisper leaving his throat. The threat however hung open, an open invitation to try anything unsavory. The words stalled between the two as Kabra pressed further into this strangers space. His fangs crawled from beneath his black lips, wrinkling his maw..
”Papa...Papa, he said hello..I don't think he meant to frighten me.” The tiny fox lit unravelled himself from his father, scuttling around to stand in front of the two canines before Kabra could chastise him otherwise. “Hello..my name is Kismet. You're different looking.” The innocence of youth tumbled out of his mouth without scorn, just that natural childlike honest observation. Kismet beckoned the wolf closer so he could whisper. ”Dont worry too much about my dad...he can be a little over protective…” Kismet looked up at his father a small, oops smile lighting his tiny features up.
An exasperated sigh deflated some of the phantoms earlier chagrin. Hackles slowly lowered although his natural ridge still stood rigid. Always at attention. His son youthful trust in everyone was refreshing at times and daunting at others. The wonderful innocence and joy for the world was a dosage of contentment that Kabra needed daily. His son wounded his soul in the most brilliant and rendering ways. To describe the feeling would be to liken it to watercolors swirling inside his heart. ”I'm Kabra. Why were you stalking us?” although he had lost some of his ire he was still blunt. Ever the tactful conversationalist. He still worried for his son. The dreadful suspicion that came from adulthood experience kept him from being as blase as his cub.
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Kabra is an ass about his son. Feel free to god mod both. Especially kismet as he's a wildcard kiddo
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