{TASTE} t h e {HATE} i n t h e {AIR}

[Sivoncé™]

<sup>A brute of black palette strode alone on this moonless night. His figure was undiscernable to the majority of the mountains' watchers, veils of smoke and the breath of the darkness shrouded him and licked over his pelt in delicate wisps and clouds, soft whisperings encapsoling the subject of their worship in a sense of a powerful, black-hearted euphoria. In his mind's eye, he replayed scenes from the Siverian and Sheeran battles, then turned his thoughts towards future pursuits, almost certain to be grander, and these escapades would push the the knife lines that the old Blood Mist had scored into the backs of the pack wolves.

They were much more dangerous now. And each and everyone of his allies held more ability, knowledge, and most importantly, they were no longer almighty divinities that held the reigns of death that rode across countless landforms.
They were omnipotent conquerers. More than anything they had ever been.

And so, the terrors they would cut and burn into each of this valley's residents would be written into wolven history in such a way that it never had before ;; the era of the packwolves would be forever ended that night that he and his fellow endowed would rise to slit the throats of their enemies. Together, they would watch with wide, hungry eyes as blood pooled at their feet and praised them for their deeds to this plain world. They would be more than Lupus, Wind, Sky, or their former leader, Verlust. They would be more than the seasonal divinities, Rhain, Thorn, Sheera, and Silenthowl, or even the Siveria the vigilante and Destiny the versatile. None would see this coming. Yes, he knew he was to be gifted with great power.
That's what the voices told him.</sup>

[Destiny]

Several moons past...

It was dark now.
The essence of shadows, creeping like vines, covered the place.
Each one curling around a limb of the wolf, holding tight to the body.
They kept the female in place now. Held her down, still.
But this needn't have happened; she did not resist.

Shadow Walker, with a form so massive and terrifyingly muscular, leaned over the body of the wolf. Walker was an old, old wolf. Clearly, the female had been wandering the stars for many generations. You didn't see wolves like her anymore. Not very often, anyway. Even Thite, the son of Gnaw and Bite, was only three quarters her size. And everyone knew just how big Thite was. Or had been. An insanely long claw, stained crimson from long ago, was carving something into New Moon's flesh. A symbol, actually. Three claw marks, side by side, crossed over with three more claw marks. Then, a circular shape in the center of the pattern that resembled simple plaid. And inside that, a tiny heart. There were no claw marks inside the circle except for the heart itself, but they were outside, and seemed to pass over the circle and continue on the other side. When Shadow Walker had finished with this branding of sorts, right canine sliced a little hole in New Moon's left ear. Almost as if a bullet had gone through it. Then, finished, the fae dissapeared into her shadowy realm.

------------------------------------------------------------------

It was many moons later that New Moon moved again. Seemed to return to existence. Eye lids felt as if they had been sewed shut, and it took several long seconds for the female to pull them apart. Eyes, if that was possible, were an even brighter, what some would call, electrical blue. Fierce and wicked, a cunning as powerful as Shadow Walker's strength flowing through her veins. Hours is what it took for the female to stand up right. Long, scarlet claws, so rouge in shade it seemed that they had been dipped in fresh blood only moments before, though this was far from the truth, clicked quietly on the stone. Tail swished from left to right behind figure of night. The brand of Shadow Walker was a scar now. Something that she'd wear for a long, long time. No matter. It was evident to the wolf that there was a job to be done on this day. And that she was the one who must do it.

The shadows seemed to cling to the wolf. Dark, black mists hanging around body, as if attached to her. They clung to New Moon even after paws had passed the border out of Shadow Walker's domain, After she'd swam through the dark, black water surrounding the mysterious isle in the darkest, most deserted corner of the Twilight Realm. The isle that should, as far as she was concerned, belong to Hellfire. But was apart of Twilight. Maybe such seclusion kept Shadow Walker's practices from coming to the attention of any other wolf. Female really didn't care, to be honest, as she followed the path that was laid before her. Even if there really was none there.

I must locate Regulus, it is pertinent.

[Sivoncé™]

^H

[/b]e was patient in his waiting, patience being a rare trait for any of his clan or kinsmen, but also unusual for Regulus' individual character. It could be thought that hunger for power would overcome him now, that he would lose himself in his anticipation, but he did not. Resistence. A practiced art, but frequently having its uses. No drastic action. No action at all until the caster of his new bloodstreams would come to him to do the job.

I[/b] wonder who they sent?? Never the matter. Whoever it is will wield great power as well, not the same as mine, but they'll know how to aid me in controlling it. Yes, I am sure of it. They wouldn't send just anyone, either. Perhaps someone I already know, or someone I've heard of in legend, or a mythical being I have not yet learned of....[/i]

He did not pace or move during all of this lazer, lightning thought process. Internally his mind was a thunderbolt of electric excitement....his thoughts running everywhere like a mischevous pup.
His coy, smug, perfectly kept external was perfected, matched only by his ignroance, which was not apparent at first encounter.
But it would cost him. Eventually.[/sup][/blockquote]