Thick Skin (Open)

[baylentine]

Euphoria Acantha The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep. -Robert Frost

There was this vice cracking her bones and her stomach turned violently as it demanded for sustenance. Her skin was taut against her form, hips and ribs apparent as her small body laid on the desert floor. She was young, still green to the world, but already knew far too much beyond her weeks here. The family that was meant to coddle and hold her close only tossed her aside after finding their use with their forgotten child's toy. Not much bigger than that of a kit, Euphoria took every hit and eventually it was enough to warp what was supposed to be naïve. Anger toiled and her heart subsided, she wanted them to pay. Her mind was already caught in the dark, but she knew nothing of going about this desire. Licking her dried lips, she took a pained inhale before forcing her legs under herself and wobbled in place as she tried to be steady.

By now it was dark, the desert temperature was cooler and it was more alive than in the day hours. Even she had some energy left as a shaky exhale escaped. I'm not going to just die here. Screw them... Again the pain of hunger twisted her insides violently in which it caused her hind legs to buckle. Haggard, hungry and alone - she could fix this. She didn't need anyone. Depending on others only got her into this situation in the first place. Glancing back at her crock screwed appendage, she could only gift it a glare before standing up again and slowly started off in some direction. Maybe I should have chewed it off...no, they probably would have still thrown me out. I'm so hungry..who thought this feeling was a good idea anyway?! Her inner thoughts circling around ways to fix her situation.

Though it didn't help when nature itself was out to get you. Freezing in her path, her ears fell flat and her teeth showed immediately as a creature with a needled tail came crawling from hell. For a moment it was a stare down. A pup against a scorpion, that is until it ran towards her and she zipped towards the opposite direction. Yelping the entire time as she ran for dear life. "I didn't want to eat your nasty eyes anyways!" She screamed and ran until she was sure it was gone, then again collapsed. Laying on her side with her ribs heaving and tongue plastered to the cracked ground. "Stupid...bug...screw..." Taking a few heavy breathes she finished her insult with lack of bite. "You..."

[Lirriel]

[googlefont=Montserrat]

[attr="class","god"]

[attr="class","god2"]

[attr="class","god3"]Bowed down to get the kings overthrown

[attr="class","god4"]And I'm all alone and the fire grows

[attr="class","god5"]

Rubedo rarely journeyed south.

It was a waste of time – the lands were fully engulfed in the heat of Flametongue, for in the olden days he had spent many of his days traveling its length, watching his people turn nomadic as he drove away greenery and dried up the lakes and rivers that cut through it. He had reveled in the thick, muggy air of the jungle and had deigned to keep it, but the peninsula had turned to sun-baked clay, and the desert had seen most of its vegetation turned to dust.

As a mortal, this realm now held no true value to him – for a mortal mouth desired food and water.

He had to wonder if perhaps that was why Chaos had sent him southward, to confront the consequences of his playful dalliances as a god-creature. But she seemed not the type to care for the fates of mortals; perhaps, then, it was simply a way to stoke the fire that resided in his belly.

As it was, he searched for a suitable place to practice his flames. But the landscape was almost barren, waves of heat playing tricks upon his eyes. Twice now he had seen what he thought another wolf – only to approach cautiously and find it but a bit of crumbling rock.

So, when he saw the third wolven shape, he only snorted and trotted toward it briskly. He had half the hope it might prove to be a piece of drywood – a boon granted by Chaos to her favorite grandson, after watching him wander in circles upon a gods-forsaken piece of stone.

Instead, his ears flicked back, his steps transitioning to a more cautious amble, as he heard the high-pitched cries of a pup. He watched, curious, as she suddenly turned and bolted, scrambling across the hardened ground as if a great beast chased her.

Now closer, he could almost make out her words, something about “nasty eyes”. He continued to watch her dash and was unsurprised when she ran out of energy and collapsed upon the ground. Now she was closer to him, though they were diagonal to each other – it was doubtful she would have seen him, as she was so fixated on flight.

Maybe, he thought, he could use her as kindling. Pup fluff was often thick, and it was reasonable to assume it burnt as easily as rabbit down.

Slowly, carefully, he approached her – though in truth she offered little threat, being such a small pup. It was strange, that she was out here alone; just to be sure, he glanced around and breathed deeply as he approached her. While she stank of other wolves, hers and his were the only scents he could pick up – and being a flat land, odors flowed freely upon the air.

“Are you all right,” he asked, tilting his head as he came to a stop a few strides from her. It seemed the most obvious question to ask, given the circumstances he had found her in.

[attr="class", "godling"]tags: baylentine
words: 503
notes:
credits: ria p @ dawnthieves

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[baylentine]

Euphoria Acantha The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep. -Robert Frost

Already, she was so tired of this, but her stubborn demeanor would not relent. She couldn't let them win and in her minds eye, keeling over would be letting them do so. However, exhaustion was an out right pain in the ass and hard to battle after a few days of overcoming it. While in the midst of her mental battle she could have sworn she heard the ticking of something against the hardened ground. Even if she originally pushed the thought away, it was cemented when a voice broke through her silence. First, an agitated groan rumbled from her throat and only after a pause did a sharp glare meet that of a rather large man.

Then again it wasn't hard to be larger than herself. Knowing she didn't have the energy to sprint away again she pushed her front half up just enough to prop her head. Meet his ruby gaze and though it wasn't exactly wise, she could help herself from snapping. "If you plan on eating me you can try, but I won't promise that I'll make it enjoyable or easy." She would go as far as trying to remove one of his pretty little eyes on her way out. Settling her head back down, she gave a small sickened smirk and just stared at him. She didn't exactly correlate her challenging behavior or violence with the drop off.

Or the notion of her families superstitious belief with the light that fell a little ways back. Outer appearances would suggest she was just talking big. Due to her hair not being raised nor her lips past the smirk, but she was completely serious in the matter. She didn't trust him or his question of "kindness".



(Notes: Sorry she's a bit sharky)
Lirriel

[Lirriel]

[googlefont=Montserrat]

[attr="class","god"]

[attr="class","god2"]

[attr="class","god3"]Bowed down to get the kings overthrown

[attr="class","god4"]And I'm all alone and the fire grows

[attr="class","god5"]

Watching her struggle was fascinating – but it was a morbid fixation, the red eyes of a vulture keeping watch as its next meal slowly expired. But Rubedo was not a vulture, was not a mortal – was only housed in a fragile body for the time being. And Chaos had promised him still more power, were he to unleash his flames upon this forsaken land.

He considered it, briefly.

But truthfully, he held some fondness toward younger wolves – unlike their elders, they were splendors of childish light, so easily molded by their betters. And, though he was less willing to acknowledge it, they were simply joys to be around – they reminded him of something brighter, something better, and the thought of a youngling abandoned by its parents only stoked a different kind of fire: one of protection, one of warmth.

So, he thought, he would not burn her – in truth, he did not think himself capable of the feat. Fur alighted easily, but a fiery death was neither pleasant nor quick.

Still, she looked terrible. Perhaps it was a kinder thing to offer his fangs toward her end. He stepped closer, was opening his jaws to ask, when she suddenly shoved herself upwards with immense effort, only her head truly lifting as she fixed a pair of pink eyes on him – the color of diluted blood.

He snorted despite himself at the words that slipped past her throat. There was a fire to this child that told him she would not so easily slip into the night. But had he not been the same? His reckoning had come in the cold snap of winter, and as she was sun-drenched he had been river-churned – chilling, dragging wetness, that had stolen the strength from his limbs, had bashed him against rocks, had spilled out his mortal soul and allowed Flametongue to slip into the empty space left behind.

But, he knew, she would not be reborn as he had been – there were the Shadowfoot and Winterfang and the Goldeye, but they were still gods, still housed within immortal bodies. No, if this child were to die, it would only be her carcass left behind – a gaunt husk, with the eyeballs plucked out, with the tongue missing, with the coat flaking and falling.

In her death, he knew, she would be hideous.

“I’ve no interest in devouring you,” he answered at last. He spoke as if he found the very idea distasteful – as if she had offered him a sampling of spoiled meat. “I only wonder why you are alone and dying.”

He did not think it the water sickness, for there was a scent to those infected by the foaming-mouth, snapping-jaws disease – and from her he smelled only desperation, the flat smell of crumbling clay.

[attr="class", "godling"]tags: baylentine
words: 462
notes: this is so late i'm so sorry!!!
credits: ria p @ dawnthieves

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[baylentine]

Euphoria Acantha The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep. -Robert Frost

Indeed exhaustion clung to the young pup like that of an pertinacious elder, but in the presence of the towering man in her sight, she rather exhaust what she had left within herself before giving way to her bodies whims. Though his stare was deadpan, she knew all too well the mind had other masks to switch to and to which one he was debating to show was what she was trying to see. As she was studied, Euphoria did her own and thus the comfort of silence was shared between the two beings.

Though, most would deem it anything aside from comforting.

Perking her ears forward to the appalled guise, her head came to slightly tilt in inquiry and soon an amused huff exited her nostrils. "I've no interest in devouring you, I only wonder why you are alone and dying." Oh, how she had to stop herself from breaking in the laughter of a sick wretch. To this her curled tail found an off rhythm and her head just shook. "If they catch you speaking with me they'll count you just as damned." Glancing around she resumed her muse. "Father said it was because I was different. Said my mind was not of what it should be for a pup my age and that I was a cursed thing or what not. He spoke a lot of things that made no sense." The soft color of her eyes rested on the dusted ground of the desert, contemplating and mulling over the rants.

She was young and truly did not understand everything that had unraveled her life to this pinnacle, but it didn't take a genius to figure out what they were trying to do. Settling her head down, she expressed something resembling a sweet smile, but underneath she was broiling. "Seeing as I'm, as you put it, dying. There isn't really a reason to hush up and listen to them, now is there?" Then again she didn't listen too well to begin with, hence the lovely decorations that adorned her fading body, but who really had much justice for those deemed wicked. Eyeing him, she settled with the fact he was not going to house her in his stomach.

"As for you, being in this land for no reason...I don't believe you have no reason for being here." Her lids became heavy, but interest peaked her mind enough to carry on.


(Notes: No worries I'm no better XD)
Lirriel

[Lirriel]

[googlefont=Montserrat]

[attr="class","god"]

[attr="class","god2"]

[attr="class","god3"]Bowed down to get the kings overthrown

[attr="class","god4"]And I'm all alone and the fire grows

[attr="class","god5"]

She was, he thought with something approaching amusement, a rather studious sort. The pair eyed each other for a heartbeat, the length of it spanning infinity, offering up an endless number of paths to Rubedo, should he so seek to traverse one. He ignored them, and the moment collapsed upon itself with the sharp exhale of her mirth, as if she had taken a tooth to a ballooning carcass.

The guts that spilled out were her own, and Rubedo shifted on his paws, resting the majority of his weight on his haunches. He was aware, in that single second of her drying amusement, that her tail was strangely curled, and he momentarily mulled over its existence. Could it have been the cause of her abandonment? But, no – her parents would have dealt her a kinder end at birth, had the tail truly been the cause. And besides, a wronged limb could so easily spell doom – he saw nothing of consequence in its curling shape, however; it simply existed, unaware of its absurdity, content in its lot: a tail attached to a wolf’s hindquarters.

His eyes slid away from her rump, refocusing on the dulled eyes that stared back at him.

The words that spilled from her mouth made him snort, and he raked the claws of a single paw across the dusty ground, scraping up loosened topsoil.

He had found it somewhat unfortunate that the long night had seen his strange mutations stripped away in the sun’s brilliant light – the claws had been a wondrous boon, and his molten eyesight had been both intimidating and useful. But, he had decided later, it was probably for the best, as he had held no use for the crawling lava that had slipped from his mouth like volcanic afterbirth.

Still, he was not one to dwell on lost things. In time, his memories of that devilish night would slip away, disappearing in the slanting light of the setting sun. For now, he focused on the one in front of him.

“Damnation can only be placed upon mortals,” he told her, and he said it in a frank way, for he truly believed himself a god-creature. Let the fools return to hurl abuse – stuffed full of musty, outdated ideas, they’d surely alight as easily as any kindling he could procure. But he kept such thoughts to himself, only adding, “It sounds as if your father was a fool. Consider yourself blessed to be rid of his tiresome thoughts.”

He allowed her query to roll over him, treating it as a rhetorical question. She had already resolved to continue speaking; surely, she did not need a stranger to second her decision.

As for her second question – for it was a question, though she phrased it as a statement – he lifted his shoulders, the heavy sweep of them bunching the mantle of his back, lifting the salt-and-pepper guard hairs that threaded through the red of his coat. “I came on a quest to burn. But I have already decided not to burn you.”

Seeing her flagging energy, he added, “What is it you require? Food, water? I would hear more of this family that cast you out, before you expire.”

[attr="class", "godling"]tags: baylentine
words: 535
notes: not my best writing :T
credits: ria p @ dawnthieves

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[baylentine]

Euphoria Acantha The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep. -Robert Frost

He seemed different. Not like her, but perhaps similar. This man carried himself with a differing pride and truth be told: it intrigued her greatly. Unlike her blood, where it was always forced and everything she did was immoral according to them. Yet, he gave more familiarity in some way even though he was nothing more than a stranger. He would be nothing more than a shadow cast and gone by sunrise. The stranger before her, however, settled himself and gave the extent of his time. Confusion riddled her, enough so for it to outwardly express itself in her body language and even crack her amused facial expressions.

Different, that was all she could pin to him.

Lackluster was far from what this encounter was as he suddenly started drooling glowing red fluids. Her exhausted cadence went flying as her legs shot her upright and her fur rose, fluffing her form out in an attempt of intimidation toward the unknown substance. What was this? Shifting her focus once more on the one who dropped the heated blobs, her ears could only find themselves forward. The words somewhat relaxing in the fact that, yes, she was free from them. Euphoria was still trapped in the sense that she was still too young and needed to rely on others, which she begrudgingly had to admit to herself.

Burn.

What did he mean by sparing her from this burn thing? "What do you mean by burn?" Though she lived in this place, again she had not experienced much and not many interesting things besides familial squabbles occurred. What came next only threw her for a loop, more so than that of the glowing goop. He wanted to help her? Was he screwy? "Uh..I.." Stumbling with the situation at hand, but deep down she knew she needed to accept it. Lowering her skull, she seemed almost angered by the prospect of it, but if anything it was shame.

"I need to live." Whatever it entailed. "I need to get stronger." With every sentence her head sunk lower, but she rather it him than those she presumed thought her vile. "I need you mister..." Falling silent, she bit down on her tongue, she couldn't get any lower than this.



(Notes: My lil blunt bebe )
Lirriel

[Lirriel]

[googlefont=Montserrat]

[attr="class","god"]

[attr="class","god2"]

[attr="class","god3"]Bowed down to get the kings overthrown

[attr="class","god4"]And I'm all alone and the fire grows

[attr="class","god5"]

It seemed, at last, that he was beginning to unearth something beyond that deadened amusement.

She had finally given him her true attention, no longer wrapped in an inner turmoil that he could not hope to penetrate. He wondered, briefly, if she had made the conscious decision to live – purposely, so that she might betray those who had wounded her spirit so deeply.

A life lived to spite another was a life lived all the same – when faced with death, any sort of purpose might prove to be the spark needed to kindle a blaze of spirit.

As it was, he smiled at her when she asked him to expand on his talk of burning. He was not one to speak in circles, though by his very nature it was inevitable that he did so. The stories that sprang from his mind had a tendency to settle within his breastbone, until they melded into his form and he could not tell where they ended and he began. Rubedo oftentimes found himself speaking on a topic that made much sense to him and very little to those who spoke with him – Dionysus, as was his way, had learned to take his quizzical speech in stride. But, in this case, he merely brushed it aside, because she was a young pup and therefore undoubtedly ignorant of his stories and of his backstory; she likely had no idea what his presence meant.

But he was a willing educator.

“The All-Mother,” he said, and then paused, mulling the name. To the wolves of Somerset, he had found, she was named differently. “Chaos,” he corrected himself, though it was with the wearied patience of a learned philosopher stooped to teaching the most basic of truths. “She is the All-Mother to me, but your kind call her Chaos – she sent me on a quest to burn this land. I’ve yet to succeed in the task, and I briefly considered your pelt.”

He kept his voice light, as if discussing her potential immolation was nothing to fuss over – and to him, it wasn’t. He had made the decision not to burn her, and so he would not.

“I am Flametongue, son of the Sea Mother, descendant of the All-Mother. Once I brought the winds of summer to this land, and once I scorched this ground we stand upon until it was naught but this crumbling wasteland you now see before you.”

As she spoke her desperate words, he fixed her with one red eye, his voice lapsing into silence. The sun beat down insistently upon them, incessantly. And yet, so overcome with an intoxicating glee was he, he scarcely felt it upon his thickened coat.

It had been so long, his mind whispered. So long since he had last been worshipped, since he had last been prayed to. It did not matter that this was a pup, begging for her life. It did not matter her circumstances, and it did not matter her past.

He grinned at her, black lips peeled back to reveal sharpened white fangs, and he answered with the silky, coiling voice of a serpent, “I will grant you these wishes and more. If you so wish it, I will burn your traitorous family to ashes, for daring to speak in place of the gods.”

Softly, so softly, he said, “You need only follow me, and I will turn your dreams to reality.”

[attr="class", "godling"]tags: baylentine
words: 569
notes: eyy crazy god ruby :u
credits: ria p @ dawnthieves

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