In the Electric Mist [Lilitu]

[Thirteenth]

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[atrb=background,http://i40.tinypic.com/wkn7dd.png] Godless gray skies frowned darkly over the sprawling, mist dampened wastelands, colorless save for varying dim shades of foreboding gray. Fog curled through the strangely hollowed trees, weaving a delicate dance through the twisted trees. It curled about the blackened trunks, clothing them in translucent gossamer. Undecipherable figures swirled in the mist, emerging occasionally into recognizable form only to dissolve before one could call name to mind. A sudden vividly colored, ghostly motion disrupted the mist along the farthest edges of the Lucifer’s borders as a slender wolf passed by, gliding through the mist like a phantom. In the dim, dreary surroundings her flawless pelt seemed to glow as she picked her way daintily-if not sprightly-through the desolate expanse, dissolving in and out of sight in the pale morning mist. The female seemed perfectly out of place in the dull, ashen lands. She was of a dainty, pristine figure, her form slender, her frame delicate and graced with immaculate silver brushed white fur, supported by strong legs and balanced by a luxuriously thick tail. All things considered the female was desirable: healthy, strong, and intelligent. The sort of female that, paired with a male of equal suits, would produce more than suitable offspring. A quality of glib innocence hovered strongly about her, and she held an enticingly seductive aura of demure charm and grace that drew the eyes of many a lustful male and jealous female to follow when she passed. What blood still slicked her muzzle from her recent kill appeared almost perverse. Something so macabre in nature on something so visually pure seemed an abhorrent breach of taboo, as though it were blood on the muzzle of a pup not long from the den and feasting on its mother’s flesh. Her mannerisms served only to increase this sentiment; every movement was elegant, poised from the parting of her muzzle to allow passage of a sigh to the sway of her hips, and the way she seemed to float rather than walk. Not a feature about her-save for the blood diminishing under her pink tongue-served to suggest that she was anything but a serene, compassionate female. Upon pausing to stretch her lithe figure, Norther found herself stopped in front of one of the trees, gazing up with her paw resting on a chunk of mossy wood. Bitter whispers on the wind brushed through her fur, dust blackened the fog, and the ghostly female flipped an ear in the deafening silence, fascinated by the abnormal nature of her surroundings and the ancient, earthen scent that told the history of the earth still shifting unhurriedly beneath her paws. With a lash of her tail Norther stepped over the rotting wood and began to meander through the trees. Dust stirred beneath her paws, puffing into the damp air and then falling to the ground again as the frosty female floated across the ground, ears pinning back with momentary annoyance as a downward glanced revealed dirt marring her usually impeccable white paws. A pause in which she attempted to shake the filth away resulted in failure, and with a vexed growl she continued on her way, ears remaining pinned to her skull while her eyes scanned her barren surroundings for some sign of life.

[❦Mufasa❦]

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[atrb=background,http://i899.photobucket.com/albums/ac192/fireb4ashes/Lilitu-Frozen---MIDDLE.png] Fog rolled in, and it seemed your particular dreary, eerie night here in the Phantom Wastelands. The ghosts not only in Lilitu's mind, but those that seemed to inhabit this place swirled about in a frantic, yet serene scene. The mist quivered as the few animals who dared cross this part of the Lucifer's lands broke through its transparent barriers, then she watched as it reformed itself into an entirely new shape, something alienated from the rest in its originality, something completely unexpected coming from something bland and not hardly surprising whatsoever. Forest green eyes seemed to glow as the mist intensified by the thousandfold, causing the air to appear thick as soup and white as rain. Gnarled tree branches waved ominously in the wind, as if forbidding one to pass any further beneath their trunks, lest a nasty surprise was in store. Unless of course, this was a risk you were willing to take. Lucifer's was the original 'evil' lands, and their territory played its part well. It was drab, dusty and quite altogether frightening, though she had become used to it over her span as a member of the glorious family she now called hers. As a breeze coming from nowhere stirred the fog into a frenzy, Lilitu rose, her black body contorting the mist, as if drawing it like a blanket about herself. Her huge body was carried forward by equally large paws, her pelt sticking out from the pale grey mists like the moon stuck out from the black, soulless night sky. Suddenly, the urge to howl crashed over her like a wave at sea. It was something her old family did together quite often, especially at a full moon. And so it appeared to be one. Her haunches lowered to the ground again and her body became one angular line, pointing right up to that white goddess in the sky. A low, alto-pitched lonesome howl spiraled up through the fog, creating the perfect atmosphere as it echoed across the skies, hitting the trees and fading away into nothing. Into the mists. Rising once more, she continued to walk at her own pace, the mists parting to let her through, then closing up again as if to say 'no one else is allowed to pass.' She kept her pace going, and soon, she reached the treeline. Her body curved lithely for one of her size around the first tree that blocked her path. The mist covered her nostrils in a damn scent, making everything smell slightly like mold, but she did not mind. The green moss caved slightly as her paws stepped down one by one on top of it. Soon, a scent and a lithe, graceful silhouette appeared before her eyes and she approached slowly, not know who it was. If it was Order scum, they would not make it out of the forest, she was determined to make it so. And if they did, it would be by the only scrap of fur left on their body. The white wolf ahead seemed familiar, perhaps she had seen them in the territory before? Or perhaps the rouge lands? She did not know, and could not place it but she would see soon, she was sure. Stalking forward, her hackles raised slightly, she approached the wolf, her voice echoing out "Who goes there?" The white...femme came into view better, and she could see no Order insignia, but one could never be too careful. The mist settled back around her now still body as she waited, green eyes glowing fiercely.

[Thirteenth]

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[atrb=background,http://i40.tinypic.com/wkn7dd.png] A singular howl lilted through the mists, momentarily pushing aside the silence as it rose in pitch and then fell to a vague echo, muted by the mist. Norther’s white ears twisted towards the sound, her gaze, then her body following suit. Several hours had passed since she had begun haunting the borders, slipping in and out of the mists like a spirit while exploring the land; waiting for someone to find her there. It was about time that someone finally did. She had been on the verge of giving up and slipping back into the heart of the free lands, her interest in the unusual landscape beginning to wane. Ears still perked forward and alert, the slender female paced forward a few slow steps, then paused again. She didn’t want to intrude too deeply into claimed territory; some packs on the island were (understandably, of course) touchy about such things. Fortunately the Lucifer’s Pack didn’t seem to have quite the reputation that their rivals in The Order of the Black Stag had made for themselves. Word on Traum had it that anyone who set an uninvited foot across their borders would either be slain on the spot or given two options: join or die. While this particular policy had at first struck her as overkill, Norther had to hand it to the pack, they sent a damned strong message that they were not to be fucked with. There was a sort of alluring power that hovered around the idea of The Order, and Norther found it more than a little enticing. At the same time, however, they were very strict in their operations, and Norther found the more relaxed state of that Lucifer’s Pack to be more appealing But there was plenty of time left for her to investigate her options before she made a choice. A dark figure appeared in the mist, and Norther put aside her thoughts to watch them approach. "Who goes there?" Who talks like that anymore? Was the first response that came to Norther’s mind, but she refrained from voicing the thought as she was on the stranger’s turf. Being antagonistic wasn’t going to earn her any brownie points. “A visitor,” Norther crooned softly in response, “I was hoping to acquaint myself with a few members of the pack, get a better idea of whether or not life would suit me here.” ooc: I haven't used Norther much for a pretty long time, so the writing style I use in relation to her is a but rusty. It'll get smoother soon though, lol.

[❦Mufasa❦]

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[atrb=background,http://i55.tinypic.com/ta6n2g.png] The big black she-wolf stood, her green eyes glowing fiercely, a warning to whomever was there that although they did not kill on the spot like the Order did, Lucifer’s was still not to be fucked with. Before the Order came and dirtied the grounds of Traum with their filth, Lucifer’s was the pack to be loathed. And she assumed it would go back to that after they had ground the Order into the dust. She knew they would be victorious. Just look at the wolves they had fighting for them. Serena and Wintersleep, Valentino, Kirill, Sinmar, Kiska, and of course…Memphis. She was probably one of the best fighters Lilitu had ever come across in her time here on Traum. She finally caught sight of the white wolf, a tiny little thing, so delicate that it looked like, if Lilitu dared touch her, she would break in two. She realized her words were a bit old-fashioned, but coming from where she did, it was not uncommon. A Scandinavian wolf she was, and you could very well hear the hints of a Finnish accent at times, it was not something that she often slipped back into, but it happened at times nonetheless. ”A visitor. I was hoping to acquaint myself with a few members of the pack, get a better idea of whether or not life would suit me here.” Lilitu snorted and rolled her eyes, did she not know the terms of common courtesy that were applied to pretty much every pack on this island? Howl, so someone knows you are there and can come and meet you at the border, or at least wait until a patrol comes by. If she had been found by one of the more reckless, ruthless wolves, she would have been toast. Especially if they had caught her from behind. She would be just that, broken in half. Lilitu believed in listening, much more so than others here, and so she would listen to the white wolf and decide later whether or not it would be wise to dispose of her…but dispose of her and they could have lost a valuable fighter, turn her away, and she could turn to the Order. So perhaps it was an idea to just shut up and listen for once. ”You are lucky it was I that found you, and not one of our more…brutal wolves. You would not be meeting a wolf, you would be meeting claws and teeth.” She grunted, eyeing the wolf over. ”You come to seek a home within Lucifer’s? I cannot give it to you, but I can take you to someone who can, if it so tickles your fancy.” She cursed herself mentally, there it was again, that goddamned accent. She hated going back to her old ways, it meant remembering home, and that was one of her least favourite activities.