Ink & Mirrors (OPEN!)

[Sivoncé™]

The night roused Damien from his serene slumber. For once in a million moons, he felt completely at ease in his rest. Slowly but surely, he'd become a resident rather than an alien on a foreign planet. The world around him peiced together neatly, though many parts were scattered. What kept the masterpiece together was that it didn't all need to make sense, and especially not all at once. He was endlessly fascinated with life, but after overcoming the worst of his fears of sleep, it, too, seemed a wonder. To slip so close to the void, but know for certain gravity will pull you back...amazing...
He rolled over idly in the root cave that was his temporary den with Sanceul. He still was uncertain about her gipsy acts several nights pervious. But she's stayed with me through a crapload of...well, crap, and listened to me moan about every little thing and do things that seemed bizarre to her. The least I can do is reciprocate.
Upon thoughts of her, his eyes fluttered open and blinked to the place where she laid down to rest at daybreak.
Her nest long emptied; her scent was a faint mist in the air.
Slowly, he drew himself from the den, immediately on his guard. Instintually, his heart beat picked up to an agonized, ancious rhythm. Calm down, Damien, she probably couldn't sleep or something, or maybe she's doing more of that odd stuff she did that once night, or--
The brush rustled behind him.
He whirled around and bared his teeth and the newcomer. He snarled ferociously. "Show yourself!"

[.Rabid Lycan.]

A silver glow bled across the landscape, accentuating the curves and contours of each individual figure in the forest. The stars above were ripe with health, and shimmered accordingly in a majestic display of designs and patterns. Far below, twin eyes mapped constellations from the earth, and grinned in recognition of old imaginings long past.
“To what do we owe the pleasure, my lady of the night?”[/font]
Pouncing forward with a subconscious swagger, a lupine male sung quiet melodies under his breath, always with the moon at his back. His fiery pelt was aflame with starlight, the faux wings that marked his back seeming to spread with every bound. It was a wonderful night—no, a perfect night for a run!
Then, all at once, Icarus stumbled, falling quite nearly muzzle-to-muzzle with a hostile face.
“…and what we have here, ladies and gentlemen, is a barbarian.”[/font]

[Sivoncé™]

Damien snarled coldly at the stranger. He held his ground and bared his fangs threateningly. "And who the hell are you?" He growled darkly at the words the stranger uttered. His eyes narrowed to coppery slits. In the back of his mind, he felt a flicker of hesitance. This isn't my typical reaction...but I guess experience has molded me into hostility. Nevertheless, he did not back down and the hairs of his pelt refused to lay flat and calm. Silently, he paced around the strange, fire-pelted wolf. As an afterthought, he added, "and where are you from?"
Best just kill two birds with one stone. If he's a Hellfirian that means I REALLY have to find Sanceul...

[.Rabid Lycan.]

“A bit cranky today, aren’t we?”[/font]
Icarus advanced a few steps further into the clearing—well, as much as Damien would permit him, anyway. The opposing wolf, not yet distinguished as friend or foe, traced circles around him. Even so, the terracotta swirls of his fur remained flat against his spine, and his emerald gaze shimmered with nonchalance. This was not his fight, as far as he was concerned.
“As for myself, I’m peachy. But name-wise, dear ol’ mum saddled me with ‘Icarus’. What’s your curse, brother?”[/font] His weight shifted to his haunches, and he casually lifted a hind leg to relieve an itch behind his ear. “And location-wise, I’m from a place much farther than you’ve ever wandered, I’m sure.”[/font]