Like a PHOENIX, I rise from the FLAMES [open]

[`` S i n j i n]

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[atrb=background,http://i970.photobucket.com/albums/ae183/sigathkerr/Tables/sinjintablemid.png] Broken yes but, never defeated the mascule moved through the rolling hills that brinked whitefish lake, his piercing cyan gaze drifting from the vast green carpet to the glistening water far in the distance. One full moon had came and went since the last time he was seen roaming in Everfrost. Countless days had passed since he was king of Kintla. He had been soured by his ill fate--having been ripped away from his dream but, after a long absence he returned, hoping to gather what shards of an impression he had made. In his time, he only met a few of his own kind--one which was a member of Laya's reign and another who was a loner. There could have been more but, his memory failed him--the stress of being taken away and imprisoned clouded his intelligent mind, still. Having been able to do nothing about it had been far worse as the brute had wanted to do so much for Kintla. Despite, his dark nature and tendencies he had meant well by his actions. Few saw it that way but he had every intent on giving life back to the pack which was obviously headed into a faded existence. A hefty sigh left his peppered lips as the brute slipped up a incline and strolled along the steep rise of one of the hundreds of dips that made up the topography of this place. As the dull, throbbing pain of his injured leg came to torment him once again, he laid his torn ear to his head while the other remained perked. Even after all this time, it brought him misery as it was a great handicap. He could not travel long distances without taking breaks, he could not hunt as sufficiently as he once did and he was not as agile as he was before. He had to change how he did things in order to survive. He lowered his standards and ate off or stole carcasses like a pitiful vulture or coyote, or he went after smaller, slower prey such as mice, rats, voles, bats, baby birds, even frogs on a few, desperate occasions. Through time, his leg had grown stronger but the fact remained it would never be like it once was. He would always have a noticeable limp in his gait and it would have a slight stiffness to it--the sinew and muscle no longer as flexible, well oiled as it had been previously. How he wished he had been blessed with healing. He envied those who could simply renew themselves with the bat of an eye or the flick of an ear. The male was grateful for his own power of possession as it helped him more than he could ever have hoped, in ways he could have never guessed but it was not as useful as healing. The only way he could gain it was to find the stone. However, it was not that easy but was more like trying to find a needle in a haystack. It all had to do with luck and timing and so far the male had failed miserably with both--he had shit luck and he had awful timing. He would change that though. His lips peeled into a dark grin as his mind wandered--thinking about his rebirth. He had been given a small amount of luck with his escape from imprisonment. He would use this to start where he left off. He realized a great amount of difficulty would block his way but in the end, it would be well worth all the hard work and risk.

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[○ m ɑ ℓ ɑ]

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[atrb=background,http://i197.photobucket.com/albums/aa35/Sigath/maladytableforanyumid.png] this is the scent of dead skin on a linoleum floor this is the scent of quarantine wings in a hospital That scent. Malady knew it, though he had never met the owner. It elicited such feelings in him that he was not aware he had. Anger coursed through his veins, driving his paws to carry him as fast as he could to the source of the hated scent. Though he had been loath to leave Laya’s side after all that had happened, he was glad he had taken the chance and answered his call to wander this day. If he had not then perhaps he would have missed the opportunity to destroy the wolf that had taken his home – and the home of his mate – away from him. Many changes had come to him lately; changes that he did not necessarily know how to deal with. First his home had been stripped away from him and he had been forced to face Laya with shame. He had not defended their home. As an unranked wolf he did not have the right to face a challenger. And then Laya had appointed him as the leader of the guard. He had been ecstatic when she had offered him that position and had taken it readily, but he feared that the act that took place after may have changed things. What they had done…he shook his head, clearing his thoughts of that moment. There was still a part of him that was not sure it had actually happened. As far as he knew, nothing had come of it to prove that it had happened. Their relationship could go on as it had before, undisturbed by the act that, to him, seemed more like a dream than anything else. And then there was the issue of his magic. After having discovered it, Malady had begun to guard his thoughts more and work on controlling it. Occasionally, he knew, he still sent accidental messages to those around him. That was why he now guarded his thoughts. But he had also worked on sending telepathic messages as a means to communicate. He could even hear the thoughts of those he contacted, if they chose to speak to him that way. He had found the magic fairly easy to control, though at times the messages failed to send. Perhaps his magic would be of use in his encounter with the one wolf that he hated more than any other. The trail led him to a lake in the outlands. He followed it swiftly, the scent getting stronger every moment. Malady realized that his quarry was not traveling as quickly as he was – either because he did not want to or he could not. Malady sincerely hoped that it was the second option, though he knew it unlikely. Still, when the scent was so strong that Malady knew he could reach the male’s mind, he probed the area with his own mind. There! He felt the culprit’s mind nearby. Without hesitation – the mind he felt was the only nearby wolf, so it had to match the scent – he sent a message to the mind he sensed. I’ve come for you, he thought to the wolf, and he immediately knew that it had worked. He had come to recognize the feel of his magic, and that let him know when it worked and when it did not. A surge of triumph rushed through his body as he slowed just enough to remain out of sight and out of earshot of the male ahead of him. With that, he continued to stalk his prey, revenge on his mind. This male had threatened Laya. He would pay for that. it's not so pleasant and it's not so conventional it sure as hell ain't normal, but we deal, we deal word count;; 600 starring;; malady for;; sinjin comments;; he's very, very angry o.o ------------ table by sigath/cadedryn/kerr

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[`` S i n j i n]

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[atrb=background,http://i970.photobucket.com/albums/ae183/sigathkerr/Tables/sinjintablemid.png] The male was strolling on top of the slope, his large paws spreading to keep his balance on the downward slant of the hill. The tip of his tail twitched ever so slightly in slight irritation to a horsefly that had unfortunately discovered the sweat moistened brute. He picked up his pace, wincing his eyes as the burn in his injured leg as the muscles became inflamed from over extension. His attempt to discourage the annoying biting fly failed and, it seemed he made matters worse as the insect was now buzzing nigh his shredded ear. A low grow bubbled within his throat and he snapped his jaw in the fly's direction, hoping to kill or at least stun the pest with his sharp teeth. His eyes took on a twinkle as he felt the pests body between his canines. A smug grin stretched across his muzzle as he clamped his powerful jaws together, pulverizing it then, spat the little vampire back out. He lowered his gaze to the ground, to the very spot where the dead horsefly lay. With a cool shrug of his shoulders he, stepped forward, his large paw stomping onto the fly as he continued his walk. It was not long before he was interrupted again but, this time from something totally different. It rather caught him off guard as it was somewhat of a terrifying sensation. His fur bristled on end and he whipped around on a dime, his cyan gaze searched around wildly. His jaws parted and teeth were unveiled as a snarl ripped his vocals. He knew not, what, where, who, or how it happened but, indeed something or....someone had caused this feeling within him. "What is the meaning of this?!" He did not necessarily know he was even speaking to another living being or, perhaps to the very wind itself but it was very peculiar--too peculiar to have been caused by nothing at all. He headed down the hill, his cerulean gaze casting from side to side and ears pivoted forward. He was slow to reach the bottom of the hill, his leg that never healed quite right shooting jolts of pain through the muscle and sinew that chorded throughout it. He halted as he reached the low dip between the hill he had been on on the one to his left that gently rose over him; towering his beige body. Somewhere out there, the one who caused his grief, was hiding. "Come out and face me, coward." He raised his voice to the wind, letting it carry his angered lyrics throughout the hilly region. His ear sparked as it bounced off the hills, echoing, forever it seemed, until he could barely make out the words. Knowing full well the culprit would hear his demand, the brute stood his ground, waiting for the foolish twit to come to him. ___________________ ooc; Rargh, sorry for the short, crappy post. I'm still trying to get into his character, again.

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