Playing with fire.... (Open)

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Ah the crater....where else would such a desolate soul roam? His beautiful white coat was covered with a thin layer of red dust...not that he cared. Achos couldn't give a shot whether he looked like a dapper fellow or not....Who was there for him to impress? Obsidian eyes searched the land around him as he made his way down deeper into the crater, paws digging deep into the loose dirt as he moved along as stealthily as a goat. The ivory beast had been on his own for years. And likely would stay on his own until the day he died. Lest he join another pack and be treated as some type of subordinate bitch. Even the thought made the fur along his neck began to rise. Never again....

He continued his decent with ease, getting his coat more and more filthy as he went along until he looked an almost reddish brown color. His coal black eyes standing out from his face like stars. Pain bubbled in his back leg, an injury from a recent squabble with a pushy alpha male whom Achos had promptly put in his place. He could have taken over his pack. Should have really. But Achos was in no mental state to rule, even he knew that.

Reaching the bottom of the crater he slid down into its bowl like shape, dark eyes taking in the skeleton of a deer here, a rabbit there. All creatures that had ventured down into here and were unable to climb back out. The thought made him grin, a small smile curling on his black lined lips as he let his tongue flash out to lick at a dusty bone. Fools, the lot of them. To overestimate oneself was a fatal mistake.

He looked back at his own paw prints leading down into the bowl shaped death pit, wondering if for a moment he had made a fatal mistake. Not that he really cared. What would happen if he were to die here of exposure? Who would it affect? No one...But who would be happy to hear of his demise? Many. The thought made a small chuckle leak from his dark lips. Hell if he would let himself die in some pit. But there was no worry, he would make it back up to the lip of the crater and he knew he would. It was not an overestimation of his abilities but a simple knowledge of what he was capable of. His mind was always churning with information. Knowledge about those he encountered, how long it would take his prey to weaken and come to a shaking forlorn stop, how long until he finally died and would not have to put up with this thing called life any longer.


Sighing he sat down in the dirt, rolling onto his back to let the sun warm his stomach and perhaps that chilly heart that still beat annoyingly strong in his chest. He looked every bit the dead wolf as he lay there taking in the rays.

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((going to reopen this one since Seven is gone and only replied once anyway....so....this is open again XD))

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» The mottled grey and brown wolf padded across the barren desolation of the crater. Nothing stirred, only the wind kicked up occasional flurries of dust. At last, here was silence. So silent, in fact, that it seemed almost deafening. For the past months the rains had been few and far between, forcing more and more animals into the Rock River Delta where Tree Rat made his home. And yet the cacophony of bird songs, elk calls, and fox barks had done nothing to cover up the absence of his pack. Their deaths had created the loudest silence of them all, and in his heart Tree Rat was unsure if it could ever be filled. The sudden absence of sound, however, meant that silence beat at his ears, insistently invading the fragile fortress that he had built so meticulously over the past few months. It had been wrong to come here. Rat had thought it would cleanse him, that seeing an emptiness of life would remind him of all he had to live for. All he could accomplish now that he had finally made the delta his own. Instead he could feel death invading. All around him were bare rocks and barren dirt that had never even nourished a single blade of grass. Desperately he longed for at least the snarling water rushing over rocks and fallen logs that had been present in every moment of his life. » The tall, lean wolf halted, his decision made. This was not a place for him. Rat turned to go, slightly blocky, brown-masked face turning to point home. Out of the corner of his eye he spied a paw print. No, multiple paw prints forming a trail that descended beyond the crater's rim. What foul-minded wolf would voluntarily go to the bottom of the crater? Surely it was some creature suited to dark places, but Tree Rat felt a moment of intense, grotesque fascination. It was very much the same emotion that causes a pup to flip over a rotten log to paw at the slimy slugs beneath. There was something so terrific about the disgusting. Well, no one had ever tried to claim that Tree Rat was particularly intelligent, had they? Soon he was following the track, not even considering that it was him that looked like something you would pull out from under a rotten log. Living in a marsh wasn't exactly clean, and clumps of mud liberally spotted with twigs and leaves coated his thick grey coat. Luckily some of the mud managed to hide his gaunt ribs and slightly sunken torso. He hadn't exactly been taking care of himself, although prey was plentiful in his territory. Hunting large prey took to much effort, and there was just something so fun about catching frogs. » At last he reached the bottom of the crater. The journey had .not been overly arduous, but the surroundings were incredibly dull. As he walked Tree Rat allowed himself to be lulled into a state of false security by the apparent endless sameness of the landscape. Instead of watching where he was going, he began instead to think of nothing, reverting back to a wolf's simplest. Move, follow the scent, find. As a matter of fact, he became so caught up in his pattern that he completely forgot to look just where exactly he was placing his paws and nearly stumbled over a wolf. His pale coat was so covered in dust that he had almost blended seamlessly with the ground. Obviously, Tree Rat was fairly startled so he leapt backwards with an audible yelp. Not exactly the smoothest move. Was it dead? Flashes of visions ran through his mind - his brother brains soaking into the mud, the total stillness of that poor little starved pup. But no, surely the wolf wasn't dead.