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Manic
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« Thread started on: Jan 31st, 2008, 8:04pm »

There was once a time when he was a glorious male; his coat was a shimmering blue and his muscles were well-defined. He took on each task with arrogance, indifference, and complete confidence. In fact, such traits made him leave his natal pack to prove he would be fine by himself. It was hard to believe such a powerful creature like Sa´x had become this pitiful creature, constantly tortured by hallucinations and hunger pains.

What was once blue was now brown or something dark and dirty. What was once strong was now stringy and barely enough to survive. His skin hung from his frame like a carpet on a clothesline. A pink tongue lolled out of a thin snout with yellow teeth. His eyes had lost any lively luster; they now resembled yellow marbles coated in seran wrap. The winter months were not kind to loners, and Sa´x was no exception to this rule. His pride disallowed returning home, and his bitter nature prevented him from finding a mate or procreating. Besides, most creatures he saw nowadays were either prey he could not catch himelf or creatures much larger and powerful than him.

Pitiful.

With a sigh of either effort or relief, he threw himself onto the riverbank. He lapped up the water, the icey liquid burning his throat. Sa´x hissed in pain. No fish could be seen in the expanse of the riverbank, and he wasn't going to bother looking. Hunger clouded each rational thought. At the moment, he saw light and darkness and colors, but that was all. The over-all experience was driving him mad, and anyone from his old pack would have called him a lunatic.

Yes, I suppose that is what we shall dub him: a lunatic.
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« Reply #1 on: Feb 4th, 2008, 10:31pm »

Madness ... or was it true happiness?

She danced with the wind, every step weightless and joyous. No body was to be seen, only her soul formed the image of what her body once was. White, ice white, tipped with green. It was as if her body were really a pine tree cloaked in snow. On her neck was a bloody hole, still wet with death, as was its opposite side. Dead, she was dead, but why did this spirit seemed so uncaring of losing her body?

Wendigo raced though the forest. Everything passed her body. She did not care. Happiness. That was all that mattered to her, and she possessed happiness, the kind she was never able to find as a blood bag. Her white feet made no sound on the ground.

Dying. It had been so quick for her. What a helpful creature her liberator was. Wendigo wished she could thank him for his support in her death. That would have to be for later though. Over in the distance she could see someone as miserable and starved as she once was.

The wolf spirit lifted her head to make her glowing pearl body obvious. Her green eyes tinted with gold glowered with content.

Happiness. She had finally found it.

Who says she couldn't help this poor soul in his misery?
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« Reply #2 on: Feb 5th, 2008, 1:11pm »

He heard nothing and saw nothing while laying beside the river. He stood, weakly, muscles trembling from too long without food. A gut survival told him that his fool pride wouldn't hold out; death would come if he didn't try a little harder. He had barely begun to move when he saw the other creature. Could he classify the dead as fauna?

Illogical thinking rushed between a spirit of today and a spirit of his past. After a good minute of thoughts so jumbled he was cetrain everyone could hear the screaming, he closed his lifeless eyes and shook his head. There, now Sa´x could think. There was no point in striking--food, need food--because--kill, eat, food--they were already dead--food.

"Name," he managed to mutter, not sure if she heard him. After all, he had to scream above the voices if he himself wanted to hear. "I... I think it was.. Sa´x, but I'm not so sure anymore." Ah, so maybe not as far as he could go. Maybe he had a day or two left. His sanity was still in tact enough to speak, even if he didn't make sense and sounded more like he was talking to himself.
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« Reply #3 on: Feb 5th, 2008, 9:12pm »

A frightening smile spread across Wendigo's lips. What was so frightening about it were her teeth. She showed no intention to kill, killing was not in her nature, but teeth are always frightening.

"Saix, poor dear," Wendigo trotted up to the starving thing. Her paws made no noise. "What path are you going to follow? Will you continue struggling and proving yourself strong enough to survive the mountain, or will you let death take your body away, let it all go? Death had already taken my body away, for I had no use for one."

Wendigo did something very strange. She stood on her two back legs. Without a body she could stay up there, the mirror of her old self stood effortlessly. Then the white wolf began to dance, hopping around with the movements of the wind like a rabbit in glee.

"Death is not a horrible thing," her voice sang and glowed with an eerie calmness. "Neither is living. Stand up, starving one, and hunt. Stay low and sleep until you wake without a body. You and I can then dance with the wind, dance with the wind." Wendigo continued her strange dancing, tongue flapping her and white pelt flowing. "It's your choice to starve. No one really starves on this mountain unless they choose to."
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« Reply #4 on: Feb 6th, 2008, 9:26pm »

"A life of hardship or a death of bliss..."

His father's words echoed in his mind. The dead are the weak. You, son, are strong. You will one day be our Alpha. Then again, he also remembered the words his father spoke when Sa´x left. Shame, anger, sorrow... Wolves are not humans and not meant to leave. Yet Sa´x did anyway, out of his own na´ve thought that he could last on his own.

They whispered to him, those strange little voices. Some laughed, some cried, some merely were. They came when they chose, left when they were done, and always, always spoke in a different voice every few moments. How could he truly be certain that this creature was not a voice? She seemed real enough. In this fragile state, though, confirmation meant nothing. He had someone to speak to. That's all that really mattered. Dead or alive, voice or reality. Nothing mattered but the basic terms of her speech.

"Maybe... A death... Death would mean... Hmm..."

His ears flattened.

"And... I... I have nothing, no pack, no aid.... None to mourn.... My... Leaving..."

He saw the great river, though did nothing more than imagine drowning in it. The voice of reason spoke, and now the voice of guilt countered.

"But... I.... I have life, whether to keep or to lose.... I will die with blood on my lips..."

His father's saying. I will die with blood on my lips, no matter who it belongs to.

Sa´x was not his father. His father was stronger, faster, sane.

Blood on my lips...

"So many things..."

All I truly know is my hunger.
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« Reply #5 on: Feb 6th, 2008, 9:59pm »

Wendigo carried on with her dancing. Her paws dug into the air as if pounding on an invisible drum.

"I can offer you signs, Saix," Wendigo announced with a teasing, yet cold voice. She stopped her dancing, but still stood upon two legs, pulsing her front paws in the air. "I can give you arrows for you to follow down the many paths. Here." She inhaled and then blew out a piece of her spirit in the starving one's face. It was a harmless smoke, a part of her only remaining entity, and it evaporated like old fog in seconds. "That is a stop sign," she said. "Remain here and die, then we can dance together."

Landing on all fours, the spirit raced towards the edge of the woods shadowing the river. "Come this way. Perhaps you will be lucky and find a carcass to feast upon. Or ..." Wendigo pointed her muzzle towards the center of the mountain where the number of wolves at its highest, "you could find a new pack. Choose to starve if you must, but it you follow this sign you could find a new pack to accept you."

Falling over, the white spirit rolled on her back with glee. How happy she was without the bloody lead of a body weighing her down. "One more sign, my starving brother. It is simple a small notch in your path. Why not go to the pack my father resides in, Wind Gale. He is a black wolf who has the ability to fill a belly with fullness without food. A suggestion, just another sign. It is your choice to follow the sign most suitable for you."

Wendigo kept on with her playing. Time was nothing. All other emotions, expect her happiness, were futile to feel. All she needed was happiness.
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« Reply #6 on: Feb 7th, 2008, 8:50pm »

Death, a chance at a life of a loner, or a new pack. Each decision had its ups and downs, each turn brought new adventure. Sa´x thought not of the consequences, but more-so the fact that this was his life. He would decide, but with such an addled brain he had yet to choose the path to walk.

To die.

To live alone, painfully, but proud.

To live as a servant until his death, but to have a home and fresh kill.

The choice was his alone.

Maybe he could try the pack. If it did not suit him, or in the more likely event that he would not suit it, he would leave. No honor gained, no honor lost.

If he died, worries would be gone. Yet dying was easy; giving up was for those that lost all hope.

He still had hope and purpose.

"Fullness without food?"

A light suspicion arose, not sure if he liked the sounds of this. Given the female's gory appearance, Sa´x did not want to risk his life.

Oh, but of so many other choices, This one was the best.

"His name, and perhaps the location?"

His stomach growled once more, but his curiosity distracted him from the pains of hunger.
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« Reply #7 on: Feb 7th, 2008, 9:06pm »

Wendigo drifted to a stump and sat on top of it like a person, her paws rested on her knees, an impish smile on her black lips.

"My father's name is Frollo, he is a member of the Wind Gale pack like I said before," her voice drummed. "Poor father, I have not seen him in a long time. He does not know that I have been carried by the wind. Most likely he is there, but, with my absence, perhaps he is not? Another risk: going to a pack and finding it to be empty, a long journey futile."

The spirit snaked off the stump and through the snow, her body difficult to see except for the red spot on her neck. "Try a different path then, before you begin? There are so many alphas, some of them powerful ranks unlike my father, who is a merely a member," Wendigo said, unaware of her father's sudden climb in dominance in Wind Gale.

With the signs set up for the starving one the spirit thought it was time to leave and let this brute decide. She sat, eagerly waiting for his decision, her body flowing.
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« Reply #8 on: Feb 7th, 2008, 9:29pm »

"Either way I walk, there is death."

He eyed the red dot that marked Wendigo's ,place but lost track of it when he looked away. The looming mountain, the one he always wanted to see when he was younger, had lost the glory. Nothing lay before him but death; the pack might prolong it more.

"I do believe... I believe I shall meet your father."

It was the easiest way; difficulty no longer mattered to
Sa´x. Had he been more alive, in his former state, he would have refused. Now, as this thing, bordering on insanity and death (was there a difference?), he was humbled.

"There are great risks either way. This seems like the way... The path of... " Wording failed him. Hastily, he managed to say, "The best choice. Which way?"
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« Reply #9 on: Feb 7th, 2008, 10:00pm »

"Yes, every ending is death. It does not matter how you live, how fast to run, or how slow you crawl, death is always there and her nature is never certain."

Wendigo stepped away from the starving one. There was nothing more she could offer to this creature. Her wisdom was drained. She only hopped she had quenched this wolf's thirst with her knowledge.

"There is no best choice. What does it matter if they all end with death, soon or eventually? Take a walk, see how far you can get."

In a white flash the spirit bounded away. Her body glided through the air like a rocky cloud, soundless and obscure. What choice Suix would make was none of her concern. Only the wind and it's precious music mattered.
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« Reply #10 on: Feb 20th, 2008, 8:57pm »

((Huh. For some reason, all my i's are question marks --'.))

"The wind, then?"

With the apparition, real or not, gone, Saïx was free to decide. Her words rang in his mind. Other voices soon joined them, some coddling, others chastising. But the voices were wrong.

Saïx was no child. He was a wolf, his own person.

The pack was the choice to be taken first.

With a nod of affirmation, be it to the river he called home for some time or to himself, he left without looking back.
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