Let The Dead Sing My Song, Can you hear it?

[Larka]

Autumn
It had always been her favorite time of year and to this day still remained so. The air was as crisp as the leaves underfoot, a foretelling of the harsher climate ahead. Tension gathered as each leaf dropped from the branches, the forest hastening into a rush; awaiting, with baited breath, the climax of the first snowflake. Winter was nature’s test of survival. Suffer or thrive. Kill or be killed. Live or Die.
Winter was the telltale of the weak, but autumn was the instigator of fear. Squirrels frantically rushed to secure their store of nuts and birds took wing to the south, while the powerful grizzly gorged himself in preparation for the long months of cold. Instinctual fear drove them to scramble in fear, to seek shelter from the bitter cold, fearing that winter’s grasp would make them look into the eyes of death. Yes, the long winter months were days of reckoning, a test for even the sturdiest of the living creatures; which was why she did not savor the cold season, an empty belly was not her idea of a pleasant time. Autumn was a warning of this forsaken time, when death was a likely prospect for any creature. Death could strike at anytime. This uncertainty bred fear and their fear delighted her.
The fear on the air was almost tangible, something to be breathed, tasted and felt. It nourished her and made her feel strong. She would feast on their fear, a life source for her soul. Fear was her lover and she its mistress. Terror was strength to be used against your opponent; that much she had learned from her time among the Dark Pack. Fear could vanquish hope, and without hope even the strongest of creatures would fail. Terror made the mind weak and a weak mind drained the strength from the body.

Akara made her way steadily through the forest, moving at a leisurely pace. She had no place to go, and as far as she knew no one to answer to any longer. Her time was her own now. A skyward glanced followed a fluttering brown leaf down to the ground. It shattered as her paw settled upon it, falling apart like everything she had known.

Fall
The word had so many meanings, one of them shared by her favorite season. Was that why it was one of her favorite seasons? Because of its alternate meanings that made up the story of her life?

Noun, a lapse into sin; a loss of innocence or of chastity. ‘A fall from virtue.’
Her fall from grace the moment she had been conceived into her sinful mother’s womb. Far from nurturing, her mother had instilled within her other potent qualities. Weakness would not be tolerated nor would disobedience. While still a pup she had observed her mother’s guile and femme fatale ways. Thus was born the knowledge that males could be convinced to follow a desired path with a certain approach.

Noun, the act of surrendering.
Her father, the tyrant feared by so many, had submitted. The white wolf, Freespirit had challenged him at his own game, a charade of fear. Ryth, the master of terror, had been outclassed and shown his own weakness. Weakness could not be tolerated in the pack. He was slaughtered, his admission of defeat his death sentence.

Noun, a sudden decline in strength or number or importance.
Blood and flesh. That was all that had made up Ryth but for years he had been God. His word had been law, the driving force behind their actions. The pinnacle of all they could ever hope to become. Ryth was their fearless leader, who would lead them to power.
But his blood was just blood and his flesh just flesh. He was no longer God, as he had cowered before them, his fear now plain for them to see. He was weak; his strength had rested in them. Their own fear had bound them to him and so, they had done his bidding willingly. His downfall had brought about unexpected results.
Fear had held them in check but with that catalyst now removed nothing was certain any longer. Power that was beyond their grasp before came into reach. The only obstacle? Each other.

Verb, suffer defeat, failure or ruin.
One piece of the tower was removed and now the rest crumbled into ruins. There was no mind games to control them and keep them in check, so they turned on each other. With their icon of fear removed, all the contained aggression was released.
Russian Roulette, with a fully loaded gun.

Verb, yield to temptation or sin.
Power was her temptation. It had been her whole life, but now she found herself without a means to obtain the power. The Dark Pack was destroyed. Not even she could have seen that outcome. Freespirit seemed like the one to be able to take control of the Dark Pack but Ryth’s fall from power had destroyed them internally.
Freespirit. That wolf had a way of continually astounding her with his abilities. He was ruthless but intelligent. A wolf after her own heart. He had what she desired in life, power. But then again, while coming into that power, it had just as quickly gone astray.
The circumstances had been unpredictable however. She had lived with the pack her whole life and never would have foreseen the events unfolding as they had. Still, Freespirit would make a better ally then enemy.

Her paws carried her to the edge of a shallow stream. There she paused, lowering her head to lap up the refreshing liquid. These lands held new potential for her. The Dark Pack may have been gone but she still lived and carried the mark. She would learn from her predecessor’s mistakes and forge her own legacy.
Akara shifted her weight to her haunches and sat down, her tail curled around her paws. Closing her eyes she listened to the forest around her, her black fur stirring in the breeze.
Power was ripe for the taking. She would not crawl to the white wolf on her belly but she knew he would not come to her without incentive. If she had her own way, he would be hers.

This post has been edited by Larka on Feb 1 2007, 07:31 PM

[Dark]

It had seemed so certain

The moon streaked over the land, illuminating the grasses in a sea of whites and blues. Quietly, the ivory wolf ran, just for the sake of running, nothing else. It was almost like the past few months had never happened.

Yet the silvered scar on his shoulder told him that they had.

He was the one. The Alpha. The dictator of what had proven to be the most powerful, most merciless group of wolves in the Silver Lake Mountains. But it was not to last. As the blood from his former owner's veins as he had quickly ripped her throat, the Pack had fallen into the darkness and let chaos consume them.

And then he left the Silver Lake Mountains.

He needed to re-establish his power base. He needed more lackeys to do his bidding, to obey his every beck and call. He needed power again.

He'd only had a taste of it, but that was more than enough for him to know that he needed more. It was an addiction... no, it was beyond an addiction. It was a necessity.

Ryth... how did you do it? They crumbled before me, yet you held them firm... perhaps I should have let you live, rather than assaulting you that night after the hunt. Freespirit halted in his running, the autumn air tickling his skin under his fur. A solitary leaf flew above his head, his gaze watching it as it fell to the ground.

So poetic, that falling leaf. Such a gentle fall.... to never rise again. A wolven smirk came to him as he stepped on the leaf he had just watched, then came to a rest on his haunches to look at the moon. What must I do now, mistress of the night? What must I do to prove myself?

The inner demons within the wolf shone through the moon's piercing gaze, making his crystalline blue eyes shine over to a dark, almost black stare... perhaps this land was bringing his soul even darker. Perhaps this land was woven through with a darkened force that threatened to consume all the light within the souls that had lived there...

I understand, Mistress.... it will be done.

[Larka]

She was alone.

A feeling she did not savor. When she had been a part of the Dark Pack she had often sought solitude. Their overbearing nature and aggressiveness could be rather tiresome after a time. Now that they were gone however she would have liked nothing more then their company. A lone wolf was a weak wolf and weakness in herself would drive her to do foolish things. She was strong, if not in body then in mind.

Her head lifted proudly, and her position shifted till she was sitting with all the poise of a queen. Let others cower in fear and slink in her wake. Power would be hers. The art of commanding fear had been taught to her by her father, even if he had not realized she was his pupil. Her mother had shown her the methods of seduction. Their death had been a blessing to her. Their legacy still lived but soon it would no longer carry their names.

Her muzzle lifted skyward, pointing to the silver moon. Dark intent glittered in the depths of her golden eyes. What was it Ryth had told her? Ah, yes, she recalled his words with a vague smirk.

‘The moon is the most powerful force. Death resides there. His servants dwell among the stars, serving his every desire. He will favor us for sending him servants and fighting for him relentlessly. Death will be an honor for us, for he chooses only those loyal and powerful to him to dwell on the moon with him. Accept death with no fear in your eyes and you may look upon his face as an equal after your life ends. Fight hard for me and perhaps he will honor you as well but fail me and you will be a servant.’

She had followed him on the hunt that fateful day. He had been slain with fear in his eyes, pleading for his life. A coward that was what he had proven himself to be. He would be a servant among servants now.

Akara let her eyes flutter shut, her nose still centered with the moon. Her jaws parted and air spilled into her lungs. From deep within her chest the howl gathered, the once innocent air being gathered for a powerful purpose.

The notes came from her of their own accord. She had never sung the notes before but she had heard her mother’s call often enough to know the required melody. Her voice took to the sky, making a nearby grouse stir in its nest. In her song she carried the passion of a forsaken lover with all the strength she could muster from her small frame. Her alluring voice carried up towards the moon, beckoning him to leave his lover Luna and come to his mistress. And if he was willing, grant her the strength to do his bidding.

The howl now finished she lowered her head, inhaling slowly. Tucking her muzzle close to her chest she kept her eyes closed. There she stayed; a pristine vision of stillness, the creek at her feet. Moonlight washed down over her, the silver X on her shoulder seeming to shine with a light of its own. The woods around her fell silent, as if sensing the malicious intent of the howl.

The howl that was used to draw the Dark Pack together.

[Dark]

Akara's call broke Freespirit from his conversation with his personal deity, the moon.

You? You were his kin! Yet you do not cower, but instead call me to you? Do you not realize how foolish that may be? Yet, it is always good to know that there are at least a few souls who are not cowardly before a change in the order of things.

He had been known throughout the Mountains as the White Wolf for some reason or another. He was not the only white wolf there, yet somehow he managed to merit the title of such. His trickery was known there, but here was not there... but he could make it just like there given time. With a smirk, the white wolf slinked off, away from the open and into the shadows of the forest, letting his nose guide him to the familiar scent.

There she was, sitting with her muzzle tucked into her chest, a perfect image of submission for him. He had recognized that howl... it was the same one she had made the night he met Ryth. It was their call to one another. It was their call to bring death and might upon the world... to take hope and replace it with fear.

Quietly, he walked around her, then stopped and stared directly at her, dominance gleening in his eyes.

You called, Akara? Surely you have a reason. Speak.

[Larka]

His scent reached her before he did, pulling her out of the thoughts. The white wolf’s scent enveloped her as she took a slow trembling breath. Ecstasy, he was a natural high for her. He was what she desired. Everything that she wanted was embodied in him.
Power.
Freespirit had found a way to take it when she had not. She had no physical attraction to him and an emotional attraction to him was beyond her comprehension; the ideal of love was beyond her grasp, an emotion that in her mind could only cloud judgment.
Rather she was attracted to him for the thirst for power in his soul, a longing mirrored in her own being. Even before he had succeeded in taking the Dark Pack he had been strong….powerful. Now, with a victory to his name he held a tangible authority.

‘Speak’
He commanded her to do his will like some beast of burden and she was most certainly not his slave to be ordered about. Her days of slavery were over. Ryth had fallen and with him he had taken her shackles. The Dark Pack was dead, she had no more to fear from, the dead held no sway over her. The tides had changed and so had she.

As he spoke her nose lifted from her chest and her head turned so she could look back towards him over her shoulder. The moon reflected in her pale yellow eyes, as she looked him over, searching both body and soul. Had he changed much since the Dark Pack had crumbled? Had she? Was he weakened by the loss of the Dark Pack?

Her silence held firm; scornful with every breath that passed in muteness. Let him wait for her. She would answer when she damn well felt like it. He may have superior strength but she was not without a bargaining chip. Leisurely she rose. Akara stretched, letting her forepaws support her weight as she bowed to ease the tension in her back.

You came. I am surprised.

She faced him standing motionless, calculating eyes taking in every posture of his body, reading the fine language of his body. Her own body language was controlled as finely as her voice. The subtle turning of her ear away from him, so his ego would no run away with him; he was not the sole focus of her attention. The curve of her tail above her back, which rested just hairs below his own; an unspoken demand at the position she desired.

I did not expect an answer.

Her insolence was intentional, her eyes speaking openly of the insult. How fresh was the loss of the Dark Pack in his mind? Did it still distress him to think of the lost power? Like a drug addict he must be craving more of the natural high. To have a taste of power but then to watch it waste away into ashes with no knowledge as to why, it had to hurt.

This post has been edited by Larka on Feb 1 2007, 07:37 PM

[Dark]

A smirk came to Freespirit when Akara said she was surprised, then made the insolent position she did. He rose his head above hers, refusing to let her gain any headway with him, then began to walk around her in a circle.

What can I say? I am full of surprises. Now... is this insolence the way to address your superior. You did not leave the Pack... or you would not have called. As best as I can recall, I was the one to spill Ryth's blood, not you... so you have no right to demand anything, much less insult me.

Had he grown a little fork in his tongue? He thought so... and for some reason did very little to quell it. He chose the path to power, and the path to power was granted to him... at the cost of the lonely fact that it's a long road to the top of the mountain... and there's no room for anyone else once you get there.

Now bow.

If she wanted to gain position with him, she was going to have to work for it... to earn it from the bottom up. She was the kin of the former Alpha... an opposing family member now forced into this pack.

Bow before the new order. Things shall be different... more powerful, Akara. But, in order to share in the reward, you must first bow and submit to do your part in making it happen. Just imagine for a moment... a world where there is no more weakness... a perfect world!

He was filled with ideas again... certainly, the loss of the Dark Pack was a huge hit to his ego, but it quickly healed up upon leaving the land of injury. And now Akara was back. Akara, apparently the only member of the Pack who was either too weak to stand on her own paws, or perhaps deserving of the honor of being part of this glorious new order of his.

This post has been edited by Dark on Jan 22 2007, 08:58 PM

[Larka]

He now demanded that she bow? What pigheadedness was this? She would not bow before him like some feeble prisoner. These lands were empty and bare, it would be all too easy for her to just renounce her position in the pack and forge a new one of her own. Her stubbornness held firm, she would not back down.
By birth right the position should have been hers but he had come along and interfered. C’est la vie. She thought. A minor setback in the great scheme of things. Besides, it was not over until the final breath had been drawn and the battle lost, only then could a war end.

Some sense of self-preservation must have made an appearance because she did not tempt him into further rage. She let her tail drop from its high position, taking a stance that was more appropriate to a lower ranking wolf, though she maintained a proud look. Akara shifted her weight to her haunches, wrapping her tail around her as she sat.

Tell me Freespirit, why do you think the pack turned against one another? How did Ryth contain them, did you ever wonder that after they fell?

She withheld her scathing tone, seeing his aggression. Everyone had their threshold and it would not be wise to make him cross his, at least not well he viewed her as expendable.

Yes. You were the one to spill his blood but at what price? Blood is just blood, there are greater things in life however. Things that can’t be taken by killing.

She looked straight ahead, not allowing her gaze to wander skyward. If knowledge was power then let him see her as a powerful ally to be embraced.

[Dark]

If packing up and forging a new pack of her own were as simple as she thought it was, why didn't she do it? Why did she wait for Freespirit to come and decide to do it? Could it be that Akara, despite what she thought of herself, was actually more a follower than a leader? Apparently her stubbornness was merely a mask for her submissiveness.

Birthright meant nothing when it came to conquest. Her pack's monarch had been overthrown, and now there was a new leadership in position. Certainly, the pack had disbanded. Certainly, the pack was merely of two wolves at the moment. And lastly, obviously, the scheme had only begun. If Akara had thought that the scheme of things had only had a minor setback, apparently she didn't see that a new one had just begun.

From what I noticed of Ryth, from what you had spoken of him and how you spoke of it, and what I observed before I found his weakness, he held you all together the same way you held the land in check. Fear. He ruled with it. He made you all feel it, and know the retribution you would suffer should you decide to betray the oath you made the day he gave you your mark. They collapsed because the source of their fear showed it as he begged at my feet, begged for mercy, for his life to be spared. Unfortunately, power does not share its plate with mercy.

His tone died when she ceased any attempt to insult him, but he did not drop his higher pose, but instead sat down, keeping head and tail a bit higher than hers. She earned a slow blink of acknowledgement in response to her second set of commentary.

Yes, there are things in life that cannot be taken by killing. Power is one of them, as your "Pack" demonstrated. When one leads by fear, they inspire no loyalty. No, one must lead by inspiring loyalty in their subjects... even if they desire to make their way be the most powerful.

After all, Machiavelli once said that one's image is not always what they are, but what they appear to be...

The White Wolf stared directly at her, letting his gaze pierce through any guise she might be pulling. Knowledge she may have, but she would still have to work for any favor in his eyes. If he had to kill his deepest love for the honor of joining (and now leading) the Pack, she would not get a free ride, either.

[Larka]

She did not look away from him, not wishing to appear weak by lowering her gaze from his. No response came from her however as his words left her to face her mistakes. Once again she seemed to have underestimated him or at least overestimated the sway of her knowledge. Outrage and annoyance with herself gathered in the bottom of her stomach, making her want to squirm uncomfortably. Her training kept her from flinching however, her calm expression unwavering and doing her best to keep her body language neutral.

So how do you intend to inspire loyalty in your subjects Freespirit? You obviously understand Ryth’s methods and I am curious what yours will be.

How much did he understand about Ryth’s way of running the pack? Granted, he knew that Ryth had stayed in control by using their fears against them, but did the white wolf understand how the former leader had done this.

Akara regarded him with interest. She would love nothing more then to be inside his head, to see what he was thinking, feel what he was feeling. Maybe then she would learn what she needed to but as he was now he might as well have been a stone. He was unreadable to her.

Rising, she moved to the edge of the stream. Her eyes settled on the moon’s reflection in the water and she reassured herself that things would go well, it was just a matter of time. Lowering her head she let the cool water quench her thirst.

((OOC: Not my best but I guess it does the trick.))

This post has been edited by Larka on Feb 9 2007, 10:40 PM

[Dark]

Underestimation. Hmph! That's one way to say it. And yet again, she demands information out of him, even calmly.

The white wolf looked away from her, refusing to give her the information she wanted ever so much. His mind was his own, as were his methods. Instead, he looked at his Goddess again, waiting for something that never seemed like it would ever happen.

What concern is it of yours? Why should I give you information that could later be used against me? I know the nature of the wolf who raised you, and know his ways. Your blood is his, and your actions belong to him as well.

Was he afraid of her? Not in the slightest. Instead, he knew that he needed to keep her uninformed as to what exactly he was planning to do... at least until she proved herself worthy of the knowledge. She was an Omega at the moment, and would have to work her way up, assuming she could.

While she regarded him, he continued to stare at his Goddess. She was there every night, and every night the lovers met eyes, and every night would they always... until the one night that he could be with her forever.

One day we shall be one, you and I. One day the two of us will be together... like rock and tree... like earth and leaf... like water and spring... so too shall we be. Freespirit quietly sang the words, watching the moon and letting it wash over his eyes.

Instead of following Akara, Freespirit slunk into the forest... he had a task to carry out.. and a Divinity to meet with.

Sometimes, to gain the power one needs, they must make a deal with the devil...