Hunger -OPEN-

[Cæsar]

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[atrb=background,http://i1218.photobucket.com/albums/dd415/Somatra1/cback-13.png] "Speaking" The open space bristled with frozen shards of wind, the air lashing angrily at the wolf that walked without hurry ever so near to known pack lands. He did not trespass nor did he seek to cause trouble, it simply held no appeal to the large brute. 280 years of life had robbed him from the voracious appetite that used to drive his every movement and though his cold blue eyes were disturbingly bright his soul felt dull and tarnished. He was a fallen power, a broken force with enough power to raise some hell but the motivation of a dying defeated wolf. He hungered but for food and the temporary interest of a female conquest, not else could give his spirit cause for joy. Raising his head he stared up at the distant mountains, they were his destination and the northern lands that awaited on the other side held some interest for Cæsar for he had heard that a great pack lived in the forbidding territory. That was all left to be seen for now he bordered another pack entirely and the smell of females was growing stronger the more he approached. The male wolf kept a respectable distance away, ears tuned to any sounds indicating another's presence as his paws silently moved in the snow, leaving large prints behind him. The pale black stripes on his body stood out in the stark and cold light of day as he moved onwards through the vast clearing. At 230 pounds he was a big fellow and his confident movements suggested he knew how to handle himself as it should have been for one of his experience. His movements were oddly graceful for his physical body gave the illusion of youth where they did not. Cæsar was of a mind to familiarize himself with the locals of this land, perhaps he would even settle and test the waters, but for now he simply sought to explore and evaluate his options. After all, he certainly had the time and time for other wolves seemed to move so fast for the old brute, their lives were terribly short where as his was painfully long. Despite the lack of zeal Cæsar felt, there was a distinct level of pride in his movements, he was a loner but had not always been and knew his worth, perhaps even placed too much on his being. His disposition was not cocky, but perhaps unusually regal even though his time to rule had long and passed. He had long ago ran out of interest for life, and yet there was still the desire to find something, a spark, a glimmer of proof that he could once again reach his formal glory. The hunger for power had been with him since he could remember and even after loosing his own kingdom he had managed to find a high seat among another pack. However this reign had been short and once again his thirst to conquer had also been his downfall. Fact was Cæsar still believed that even though his last love had belonged to the alpha he had none the less conquered her and this should have meant he was victor. Naturally the alpha had not shared this opinion but it did little to dissuade Cæsar's belief that whatever he conquered was therefor his as a result. This escapade had resulted in the death of his final love, leaving an eternal bitterness in the brute's heart but failing to satiate his desire to continue his conquests. The simple fact of the matter was that when he wanted something he went for it with an uncanny and frightening drive. The problem was that there was little he really wanted... C a e s a r 's . S o n g

[Duchanéir Olc]

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[atrb=background,http://i54.tinypic.com/3329lxv.jpg] The winter winds were harsh in the unsheltered part of the taiga, and even though Duchan was quite fluffy and strong, he hated the nipping cold quite a lot. His paw pads ached from the cold ground surface, but patrolling was his duty. No matter how uncomfortable he felt, loyalty to Ahote and to his pack was paramount. So the hybrid suffered for the well-being of all, moving like a shadow through the forest. His huge paws disguised any sound he made and displaced his weight over the snow. He barely left a trace, except the soft earthly smell of his body, and the light imprint of his paws. His ears pulled back against his skull as he moved, his eyes searching before him. The wind brought scents, some faint and dull, but others stronger. Right now he was tracking one of the stronger ones. An intruder it seemed was nearing the pack lands, and from what he could gather from the smells, he was not someone he particularly wished to let any further into the terrain unaccompanied. Duchan moved swiftly, his mind focused on just the loner wolf who was approaching his home. It was easy to focus his mind on one sole being, though the lingering subconscious thoughts of keeping his family safe was there too. It was strange, how he considered the enclave his family. Ahote was like a brother to him, and the members like nieces, nephews, sisters, aunts... the feeling of closeness was something he enjoyed, even if half the members barely knew him. Soon enough the scent was stronger in his nostrils and he slowed his pace, using the compact tree line in his favour, trying to keep himself hidden from the wolf until he wished to be seen. The male before him looked huge, even compared to himself. Striped too... which led Duchan to believe that the male before him had to be another hybrid, just like himself. Once he was content that there was nothing else he could wait for, he moved slowly from the shadows, his eyes moving up and down the brute's body again to size him up. If something like a fight happened, he would need to use speed and stealth to win. It was pretty evident the male before him was a powerhouse. "Excuse me, but you seem to have wandered quite close to my packlands. Are you looking to join or just passing through?" His voice was smooth and his tail raised to reflect his own rank. No aggression was in his voice whatsoever, content to just be friendly until he needed to act in a more assertive way. D U C H A N É I R . O L C

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