Lycana Roleplay

HELLO AND GOODBYE

In the darkening twilight a small flock of snowy white doves coo softly in a cage. Their pure, unblemished feathers gleaming in the fading light. They tilt their heads, observing their surroundings as they preen, fluffing themselves out as they settle in for a peaceful night's sleep. All is tranquil in the clearing as night steals over the land, blanketing the earth with obscurity. Beyond the cage, the shadows danced their slow dance among the trees as the wind caressed their branches. From the deepest of them comes a pair of silhouettes, gliding across the clearing. One of the doves, ever alert twists its head around, fixing an innocent eye on what lurked. It makes a soft noise, causing the others to stir, and shift about restlessly.

The outlines slowly take the clearer form of Lycana and Fenrir walking side by side as they approach the cage of small birds. A low rumble starts in the big canine's chest as he fixes his stare on the confined avians. His lips pull back, revealing his fangs as the growl rises into a snarl. He hurls himself towards the poor doves who scatter about, slamming into the sides, ricocheting off one another as they try to find freedom from the approaching jaws of death. The wolf pulls up short, head low, gaze locked, vibrating with eager anticipation. It is seen then, a heavy chain connecting from a thick collar around his neck, to Lycana’s hand. She tilts her head as she offers up a forbidding smile.

“A dove has great beauty, but is easily broken. What chance does it stand against kismet? Oh, it can elude death time and time again, but there comes a moment when its fortune runs out. It is the destiny for such creatures to become the prey for beasts that hunt. Much like the sheep, they hold fast to the illusion that there is safety in numbers. Until they get picked off, one at a time... each fallen, placing a larger target on those left behind. Targets are slowing taking form all over the XWF, invisible to the eye, but there all the same... just waiting for the arrows to fall. The victim, looking to the sky far too late to escape, most never knowing the target was even there at all.”

Fenrir, unable to hold himself back himself longer lunges once more at the contained treats. Panic ensues with the loud beating of wings as they try once more, in vain to escape their prison. Lycana holds fast to the chain, pulling the shaggy wolf back with mental rebuke. He reins himself in once more, eyes never leaving the milky white creatures he so desired to get to.

“But you Atara, I want you to see that bullseye on you. I want you to know that I’m coming for you long before that particular arrow lands. You claim yourself the reincarnation of a goddess and yet, like a mortal peasant, you fall to the earth like a pleading servant when you, repeatedly, don't get your way. Your haughty exterior crumbling to reveal the behavior of a common fishwife. You are a false goddess... only an idol to your own mirror image, but worshipped not, except by those most mindless of your peers. You preen, feeling secure in your gilded cage. Even cages cannot hold hungry jaws at bay. Enjoy your time before your arrow falls... soon enough, the wolf will be at your door, on behalf of the dark.”

With that, Lycana drops the chain. It is all the affirmation Fenrir needs. His muscles clench under his coat as he leaps upon the cage. Loud cries emit from the panicked creatures inside as the wolf shakes the cage viciously. Snarling deep in his throat, he claws, digging at the bars. His sharp teeth worry the bars until they are mangled. Pressing his paws to the cage, he begins to tug, creating a large enough gap for the birds to fly free... and for his muzzle to get in. All is still for a moment. In one blurred movement, they all tried to make a break for the sky. The beast was on them in a moment, bones snapping like twigs, bloodies bodies falling, an explosion of feathers flying around her as Lycana simply smiled.

“Goodbye Dove.”



HELLO AND GOODBYE In the darkening twilight a small flock of snowy white doves coo softly in a cage. Their pure, unblemished feathers gleaming in the fading light. They tilt their heads, observing their surroundings as they preen, fluffing themselves out as they settle in for a peaceful night's sleep. All is tranquil in the clearing as night steals over the land, blanketing the earth with obscurity. Beyond the cage, the shadows danced their slow dance among the trees as the wind caressed their branches. From the deepest of them comes a pair of silhouettes, gliding across the clearing. One of the doves, ever alert twists its head around, fixing an innocent eye on what lurked. It makes a soft noise, causing the others to stir, and shift about restlessly. The outlines slowly take the clearer form of Lycana and Fenrir walking side by side as they approach the cage of small birds. A low rumble starts in the big canine's chest as he fixes his stare on the confined avians. His lips pull back, revealing his fangs as the growl rises into a snarl. He hurls himself towards the poor doves who scatter about, slamming into the sides, ricocheting off one another as they try to find freedom from the approaching jaws of death. The wolf pulls up short, head low, gaze locked, vibrating with eager anticipation. It is seen then, a heavy chain connecting from a thick collar around his neck, to Lycana’s hand. She tilts her head as she offers up a forbidding smile. “A dove has great beauty, but is easily broken. What chance does it stand against kismet? Oh, it can elude death time and time again, but there comes a moment when its fortune runs out. It is the destiny for such creatures to become the prey for beasts that hunt. Much like the sheep, they hold fast to the illusion that there is safety in numbers. Until they get picked off, one at a time... each fallen, placing a larger target on those left behind. Targets are slowing taking form all over the XWF, invisible to the eye, but there all the same... just waiting for the arrows to fall. The victim, looking to the sky far too late to escape, most never knowing the target was even there at all.” Fenrir, unable to hold himself back himself longer lunges once more at the contained treats. Panic ensues with the loud beating of wings as they try once more, in vain to escape their prison. Lycana holds fast to the chain, pulling the shaggy wolf back with mental rebuke. He reins himself in once more, eyes never leaving the milky white creatures he so desired to get to. “But you Atara, I want you to see that bullseye on you. I want you to know that I’m coming for you long before that particular arrow lands. You claim yourself the reincarnation of a goddess and yet, like a mortal peasant, you fall to the earth like a pleading servant when you, repeatedly, don't get your way. Your haughty exterior crumbling to reveal the behavior of a common fishwife. You are a false goddess... only an idol to your own mirror image, but worshipped not, except by those most mindless of your peers. You preen, feeling secure in your gilded cage. Even cages cannot hold hungry jaws at bay. Enjoy your time before your arrow falls... soon enough, the wolf will be at your door, on behalf of the dark.” With that, Lycana drops the chain. It is all the affirmation Fenrir needs. His muscles clench under his coat as he leaps upon the cage. Loud cries emit from the panicked creatures inside as the wolf shakes the cage viciously. Snarling deep in his throat, he claws, digging at the bars. His sharp teeth worry the bars until they are mangled. Pressing his paws to the cage, he begins to tug, creating a large enough gap for the birds to fly free... and for his muzzle to get in. All is still for a moment. In one blurred movement, they all tried to make a break for the sky. The beast was on them in a moment, bones snapping like twigs, bloodies bodies falling, an explosion of feathers flying around her as Lycana simply smiled. “Goodbye Dove.”