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| The Path Less Travelled | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Feb 19 2014, 01:33 PM (117 Views) | |
| Post #1 Feb 19 2014, 01:33 PM | Ivor |
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[dohtml]<div style="width:600px; border:1px solid #000033"><table width="600px" style="border: 2px solid #669999; background-position: bottom; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-color:#ccffff;"><tr><td align="justify"><div align="justify"; style="padding-top:8px; padding-left:8px; padding-right:8px; padding-bottom:8px;"><font style="font-family:verdana; font-size:11px; line-height: 11px;"><font color="#000033"> The white wolf stalked along the edge of the gorge, completely at ease with the sharp drop on his left hand side. Far below, he could hear the angry hissing of the mountain stream as it tumbled over rocks and carved ever deeper into the stony banks. There was a certain thrill to walking so perilously close to the edge; the knowledge that with one slip of the paw, he would be history. The path meandered a little to his right, a neatly trampled path showing clearly where the deer and other prey preferred to walk. His features cracked into a wry smile, idly patting at a large pebble that sat quietly on his own path. It skipped once, the high-pitched chip of rock on rock ringing in his ears, before he disappeared into the abyss. His grin turned into a smile of satisfaction at a job well done: executed swiftly and efficiently. As always. <br><br> He'd spent the few days after his arrival surveying this island, not quite pleased at finding himself trapped here. The lands were spacious enough, and thankfully, not overly inhabited. But it chafed at him that the seasons would dictate when he be able to move on, if he felt the desire. He'd crossed the trails of a few other lupines on his wanderings, but the tracks had been old and he wasn't looking for company anyway. He simply wasn't used to it, any more. Where he had once navigated through social circles with ease, the last year had been filled primarily with hunting. He'd whittled down his enemies to three in number, and he'd squashed the information of their whereabouts from unwilling tongues. After that, it had merely been a game of catch. <br><br> He stepped over a stunted shrub, not caring for the sharp bite of its thorns against his leg. That was merely a sign that he was still healthy and functioning. The greenery gave way to a rocky ledge that protruded a little from the rest of the mountainside. He padded across it, peering over the edge at the sliver of white far below. He took a step back to look across at the range of mountains that sprouted in the west. There was another male over in that part - one who would poise more of a threat than his dreamer from the shore. Ivor made a mental note to head over to those mountains soon and determine who exactly resided there. It wouldn't do to have someone try and challenge his authority in later days, after all. <font color="#669999"><b></b></font> </font></color></div></td></tr></table>[/dohtml] |
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| Post #2 Feb 22 2014, 04:55 PM | Salvatore |
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[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 500px; border: 1px solid white; outline: 1px solid black; background-color: #CFF1FF; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-position: center bottom; background-image: url(http://i1011.photobucket.com/albums/af235/BeautifulxDays/4288f9f9-b4f8-4a2e-9592-aa126adac632_zps4a3e20f1.jpg);"><div style="margin-top: 20px; margin-left: 20px; margin-right: 20px; margin-bottom: 315px; font-family: verdana; font-size: 10px; line-height: 10px; color: #837e6c; text-align: justify;"> Confusion reigned his senses; the more time had passed, the more it seemed like things had come and go. His body shook with the remind, and the air pushed out of his lungs. No, he was not the type that craved this sort of life. He wanted to be free, and yet he was forever trapped. For when summer came, and those who hid away in the dark felt the pull of escape - Salvatore forever remained. It was inevitable that one would go stir crazy on the island; it was an empire fit for the crazed. Madness, it irked him, it bothered him. <P> The nightmares had waged until he had woken up in a panic. It was not a considerate way to spend the night, spend any of the time in his world. His arrogance that he could control the rolling feelings and flaunting spirits was just too much. It pulled at his edges, and threatened to sink sharp teeth into his skin. The dreams of a dark coated wolf with wild eyes, cackling in the mountains had him running scared. He knew the name without needing to be apart of the generation subjected to the insanity; Zarek. The beast was not about to die, he lived on so feverishly in everyone who touched the island. <P> It was something that warranted concern. The thought of the spirit possessing someone was something he <i>wished</i> he could scoff at. The concept would make him concede that perhaps the crazed way of living that he was locked into would send him insane. His parents passing away on this island was a nasty result; perhaps if the pull of both of them had not been so strong for the earth to swallow... He might have been free. Eyes rolled towards the sky, and the wry smile glanced across his features a few times. No. It was not their fault, in the end. But it was easier to blame them for some of the misgivings he had. <P> Female scents had him startled, concerned for their vulnerable being. Yes, while it was irksome that he had these pushing motions that rolled through him. It was almost too much for him to handle, but the fact of the matter was the moment he tasted a female on the air - he was doomed. Doomed like his father was to attempt to be heroic; Salvatore had not choice but to find them and find a way to protect them. Bring them into the safety of his awareness, otherwise the darkness would come along and swallow them up. <P> Steep cliffs had him straying towards the mountains, as painful as the trek would become. His paws were swift though, confident in his movements. The creature he found was not feminine though, and his frown was evident as he gazed upon the stunning white wolf. For some reason, he had assumed the wolf would end up escaping the island. One way or another, he would not feel comfortable in this cold land, where sinking feelings were a normal occurrence. Clearing his throat, the brownish red wolf halted in his steps, keeping back lest he be thrown to his death. <b style="font-family: georgia; color: #210B61;">“Ivor,”</b> The greeting was brought up from memory, <b style="font-family: georgia; color: #210B61;">“You look well, friend. Perhaps it is about time you stopped battling forces greater than yourself.”</b> </div></div> [/dohtml] |
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| Post #3 Feb 25 2014, 04:47 PM | Ivor |
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[dohtml]<div style="width:600px; border:1px solid #000033"><table width="600px" style="border: 2px solid #669999; background-position: bottom; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-color:#ccffff;"><tr><td align="justify"><div align="justify"; style="padding-top:8px; padding-left:8px; padding-right:8px; padding-bottom:8px;"><font style="font-family:verdana; font-size:11px; line-height: 11px;"><font color="#000033"> He hadn't noticed the arrival of the other wolf until it was almost too late. With him perched close to the precipice, it would have been puppy play for an ill-minded individual to send him flying. As it was, he caught the faintest click of nails against stone and he braced himself against an impact that never came. Instead polite words hung in the air, and he slowly brought his head around to meet the gaze of the one who had crept up on him. It took him a moment to place the rust-coloured male, their acquaintance having been short-lived. He turned about, the lazy movement belying the internal rush of relief at having escaped the consequences of his complacence so easily. <br><br> He peered into the all-knowing eyes that left him with the odd feeling of being see-through. He cleared his throat to dispel his unease. He wracked his brain for the boy's name and came up empty. Perhaps they had parted before his name had been divulged…or he was growing senile after all. That thought filled him with disgust, and he hurriedly pushed it from his mind. <font color="#669999"><b>"Good day to you too, Master Wave-Watcher "</b></font> he answered smoothly, his slightly roughened tunes carrying easily towards the male. He came a little closer, before setting his rump gently against the ground, keeping his posture relaxed. There was no need to go making enemies, and if things did get uncomfortable, Ivor was quite confident that he could snap the other's neck before pretty-boy managed to get his claws out. <br><br> He tipped his head to the side, trying to analyse the feeling he was picking up from the male. <font color="#669999"><b>"I apologise if I'm being forgetful, but I don't think I ever caught your name."</b></font> He gave the lad a rogue grin, emerald orbs twinkling with a shadow of mirth. <font color="#669999"><b>"Alternatively, I shall call you Child of the Sea."</b></font> Which did really raise the next question as to why this chap seemed to stumble upon him - these was a fairly large island, after all. Still, it seemed sparsely inhabited, and one could only go so long without company. <font color="#669999"><b>"Have you picked up any other offerings the ocean left on the shore, or am I her latest present?"</b></font> <font color="#669999"><b></b></font> </font></color></div></td></tr></table>[/dohtml] |
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| Post #4 Feb 25 2014, 05:18 PM | Salvatore |
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[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 500px; border: 1px solid white; outline: 1px solid black; background-color: #CFF1FF; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-position: center bottom; background-image: url(http://i1011.photobucket.com/albums/af235/BeautifulxDays/4288f9f9-b4f8-4a2e-9592-aa126adac632_zps4a3e20f1.jpg);"><div style="margin-top: 20px; margin-left: 20px; margin-right: 20px; margin-bottom: 315px; font-family: verdana; font-size: 10px; line-height: 10px; color: #837e6c; text-align: justify;"> Knowing that there was a risk in dealing in the cliffs with someone who could be apt to throw him off. Still, if something like that would have crossed his mind, he never would have approached. If the feeling would have existed, the rust wolf never would have trusted himself to creep forward. Feelings, emotions about the way things would react would forever have him driving in the direction best fit for him. Not that it meant that trouble and torment would avoid his path, it just meant that his life would not be severed before his purpose was completed. <P> The question, for all and every being, was the meaning of that life and the discovery of that that purpose would be. Never in a thousand years would he have considered his life to be undervalued, but being trapped on the island was thick enough to make him want to bite his tongue. To the sound of Ivor’s voice, it pleased him that the male did not throw out hostility. Oh, it would have made sense for him to do so, it appeared he had disturbed the older wolf. His travels were wary, with no doubt. <P> “<b>Salvatore</b>.” Words were gentle on his tongue as he found himself offering a hint of a smile. The amusement tugged at his features, bobbing his head. He wandered, it was inevitable when he was born, raised and chained to the island. Anything that was brief was worth counting on, but his head turned toward the sky with a wistful glance. “<b>I was never very quick on giving up my namesake.</b>” Apologetic note in his voice, but he backed up a few steps in response. <P> “<B>The ocean has been surprisingly gentle… There has been a few more to wash up on the shores since your arrival.</b>” The stab of envy in his words was hopeless, and it caused his features to twist faintly. As he turned his body lightly, his eyes lingered over the light male when his gaze finally fell back on the male. It warmed him for a few moments, it was nice to see someone alive. Someone who could leave at the end of it. <P> “<B>I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting any of them.</b>” The wryness broke through his voice, and he shook his head from one side to the other. Shifting faintly, he poised himself to be more steady. When confident in his position, the male relaxed a bit more significantly. “<b>Favour on my part, I think. They could hardly be as reasonable as you.</b>” </div></div> [/dohtml] |
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| Post #5 Feb 26 2014, 05:51 PM | Ivor |
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[dohtml]<div style="width:600px; border:1px solid #000033"><table width="600px" style="border: 2px solid #669999; background-position: bottom; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-color:#ccffff;"><tr><td align="justify"><div align="justify"; style="padding-top:8px; padding-left:8px; padding-right:8px; padding-bottom:8px;"><font style="font-family:verdana; font-size:11px; line-height: 11px;"><font color="#000033"> His courteous question was smoothly answered with a name, and as could hardly be imagined otherwise for the russet male, an apology. The very notion brought a faint smile to his lips, the slight upwards tilt softening the severe angles of his face for just a moment. <font color="#669999"><b>"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Salvatore"</b></font> he intoned with the usual air of gravity that followed such phrases. It was such an oddly formal phrase than aimed at doing nothing but currying the favour of the new acquaintance. He had always disliked the reasons for its usage, and yet it always felt odd not having declared it. <font color="#669999"><b>"By which I mean I am grateful for you company, as opposed to simply sounding pompous."</b></font> His lips tilted upwards again, his rough tunes lightened with mirth. Yes, that was much better. Just because he was out of practice in being honestly civil with another didn't mean he couldn't work the charm when required. <br><br> He listened to the lad's words with veiled interest, quietly wondering at the number of wolves that were now stranded on the island. He supposed he would need to make the rounds shortly, just to gain an idea of what was what. He was quite looking forwards to a moment's rest now that his life's mission had been completed. Time off would certainly get boring sooner or later, but for the moment, Salvatore was quite right: he would look much better when not slaking his thirst for revenge. For all that his body was in perfect shape, he was a little socially starved, and he missed the ease of companionship. <br><br> He smiled a little wanly at Salvo's proclamation. Oh, if only the pretty creature in front of him knew all of what he was capable of. But those stories were best left untold for the moment. Considering he was trapped on this island, much like his new-found friend, it would be prudent to make a new start. Or at least attempt to. <font color="#669999"><b>"I doubt the sea would wash too many unfriendly creatures onto your shore"</b></font> he commented after a moment. <font color="#669999"><b>"And I have found in the past that the unreasonable ones can be most entertaining companions at times. They can find hilarity in even the most simple of actions."</b></font> <font color="#669999"><b></b></font> </font></color></div></td></tr></table>[/dohtml] |
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| Post #6 Mar 7 2014, 06:42 PM | Salvatore |
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[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 500px; border: 1px solid white; outline: 1px solid black; background-color: #CFF1FF; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-position: center bottom; background-image: url(http://i1011.photobucket.com/albums/af235/BeautifulxDays/4288f9f9-b4f8-4a2e-9592-aa126adac632_zps4a3e20f1.jpg);"><div style="margin-top: 20px; margin-left: 20px; margin-right: 20px; margin-bottom: 315px; font-family: verdana; font-size: 10px; line-height: 10px; color: #837e6c; text-align: justify;"> Laughter edged around the hint of his features, knowing that the game of gentleman would be endless. With the older wolf's presence, he depended his thoughts on the ability to be swift. He had lived on this island and knew little of the real world, but his ancestors were more than capable. They were enriched with the ability to talk smooth, to know how to fight and how to flee. He should have been a warrior, and yet he was contained. Trapped and unable to run away from the choices that were predestined for him. <P> "<b>I would hesitate to say the world would throw nothing cruel on the shores.</b>" The distaste in his tones was slight as the honest played on his face. "<b>After all, the ocean has let the crazed beast of the North upon our lands once...</b>" Eyes swayed away from where he was thinking. His shoulders shrugged as he found his mouth curving down at the side as he considered the other. There was such a... practicality to the male. There was nothing beyond what he could see in his eyes, despite the wars that might have been witnessed by those intense eyes. <P> Shaking his head lightly, his laughter was soft on the air. "<b>Not that you need to be concerned about our resident boogeyman.</b>" His words were honest to a way that could not be denied, his relaxation was instant. There was no bad feelings around him, thus he would accept for the time being he was safe. Nothing was tugging at him to run in the other direction of the mention of the Kings of the Island long fallen. It was a sign enough to be well thought out on his matters. "<b>The creature is dead... sadly it was old age, and not a swift murder that brought him to his paws. He outlived most of those he came with... Likely to the wise ways of his cruel adviser.</b>" Draco, the proud King. Yes, there had been so many rumours about the male who could control the walking-demon. They had been cruel, tyrants. The Lady Shai had been their captive. It was all so romanticized now. <P> Glancing at the male, the russet wolf realized he had lapsed into silence. The smile was faint, fleeting as he inclined his head in apology. "<b>I spoke to our resident scholar before he passed away, he knew much of the past... but nothing about the future, of course.</b>" </div></div> [/dohtml] |
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