Welcome to Hell... (Open)

[H.ell . Fi.re.|†A.lba]

(I thought the title name would serve appropriate. xD)

The sound of falling water rushed to the rather large brute's audits first. All other noise was drown out except for the buzzing sound of water hitting the dangerous drop-offs, and then the sharp rocks at the bottom. The rocks that could skewer you easily if you weren't careful. He picked up into a graceful lope, his jowls wide open to pick out the many different scents around him. His iron muscles moved him easily, each stride measured and performed in complete unison with the mechanics on his body.
He had a sooty black canvas with fur that covered his neck in what could be called a mane. What ever floats your boat, I guess. Those intelligent gold eyes flickered through the foliage. Memorizing different tracks of different animals just in case he decided to come back. His plume was held in the air in a rather dominate stance, yet if confronted about it by an Alpha or a superior he would lower it. But only then. He didn't appreciate all these wolves coming to him and trying to tell him what was best and what was not. He didn't need their help. He could manage on his own.

His easy lope finally began to slow, and he came to a complete stop by the edge of the cascades. He peered over the edge thoughtfully, wonder how excruciating the pain would be if he were to use this to his advantage one day. What? You don't know what I'm talking about...? Damn. Hell was one hell of a fighter, and would use what ever he could to overthrow an enemy. Cunning was just one of the traits he had inherited from his sire. He also looked like the Late baron which many would consider being a curse. He was one of those many.
A monster.
He called himself mentally, and a ravenous smirk graced his maw. He was rather proud of himself, obviously. He slowly raised his gaze from the abyss of death below him, and glared across the lands. He wasn't exactly...tolerant. He didn't have the patience for other wolves. They were annoying. Asked too many questions. When he was a pup, he got a beating if he asked a stupid question. Tis be what turned him into what he was now.
A monster. A blood lusting monster.
He said again, and this time just the same as the last that same murderous smirk graced his horrid maw.

Welcome.To.Hell.

[.Rabid Lycan.]

Distance. That’s all it is.
A few sparse grasses flattened under the weight of treading paws, pads digging into the earth and leaving their temporary mark. Banner swaying rhythmically with the melody of her gait. That casual lope bringing her ever closer to the roar and hiss of the river’s ultimate cascade into the gorge. Her ears swerving with the shifting of the wind. All of this, and yet her eyes glazed with a sort of glassy vision. Nostalgia, almost.
Distant.
The fog of disturbing memories clouded her vision, thoughts of her deceased unborn children. And Darkdeath, wherever he had gone. You left us, Darkdeath. Left me. Why? The cold bristles of pain stung her chest, but she managed to dismiss the feeling. She was Shiver, a Blood Mist wolf—an immortal Hellfirian, at that—present at the original battles of old. Ah, Verlust… Babylonia has always been an excellent leader, but she has grown physically weak. Is there not some way you can help us?
Tilting her head towards the sky as the water’s spray began to dampen her flank, she noticed another figure amongst the rapids. Hmm? The scent was Blood Mist, and she relaxed in recognition, but the male was altogether not the most familiar. Hellfire, wasn’t it? Heh, quite appropriate…
She wandered on to stand by the edge of the falls, perched on the opposite side of the small river. Her eyes gazed restlessly, and she briefly wondered if the brute had even noticed her.
And then dismissed the thought, for she could not bring herself to care.

[H.ell . Fi.re.|†A.lba]

The baron had noticed her in fact. When she had first started toward here and was in hearing distance. Hellfire was in the position of hearing a pin hit soft dirt, and act as if it had hit hard rock or metal. He didn't lift his gaze to her's however. He just took in her scent.
A Blood Mist? He knew he should be some what relieved that it was not a enemy but the presence of any wolf would cause him to grow uneasy. Especially a Blood Mist. Well, what with his blood lust and the unpredictable ways of it it was rather a fools errand to come near him. He was the type of wolf that enjoyed to soak his muzzle up to the eyes in warm blood. It was disgusting, really. He was Hellfire though. Twas how he was.
Finally, he raised his gaze to look over her and immediately knew her as Shiver. That was about the extent of his knowledge however. He faintly knew anything about another wolf of his pack unless it was absolutely necessary. His gold chasms blinked once, then twice before he diverted his gaze and looked back down into the pit of death. Then almost abruptly he got up.
"Morning, Shiver." he called, and then tilted his head to the side. What was with that weird impulsion? He scolded himself on the inside, and called himself every name in the book.

[.Rabid Lycan.]

“Where are we?”
A fae’s voice broke the silence, cracking with terror and mingled with the telltale signs of tears. The golden locks threaded amongst her pelt bristled in an infinite state of alarm, her sapphire orbs widened. With a disgusted (and, somehow, amused) scowl, the larger male beside her ushered her forward with a forceful shove. “Keep moving,” he grunted.
“P-please, just let me go…”
The male turned, a mass webbing of scar tissue coating the left half of his face and neck. The socket-less eye stared down at her, unreadable. And somehow watching her without an iris. Barely keeping his temper in check, he stiffened at the wave of scents radiating from the forest brush. Funny, it almost smells like a pack moved in here…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Mildly startled by the vocalization, but all the same not revealing her shock, Shiver lifted her muzzle to reply with a solemn nod. “Greetings to you, Hellfire.” She paused, a foreign scent momentarily tickling her nose via the wind. But the foam and spray of the torrent below muddled the odors, and she dismissed it as folly. “…what brings you out here?”

[H.ell . Fi.re.|†A.lba]

Hellfire was about to answer when he flicked an audit in the direction of the faint vocals. He strained to make out words but could only hear muffled voices. So, he dismissed it as well. What's more the roar of the waterfall was drowning out all other sounds except for himself and Shiver. He drew a breath, and then smirked gently.
"Just..finding a new death hole for my unlucky victims." He stayed planted on the other side of the area mainly because he hadn't killed in a while. Call it a need. Call it insanity. I don't care. Call it what you want. Anyways, he was as blunt as ever with the truth as he always is. When ever with a victim, and they pull that whole 'don't hurt me act', and ask him what he's going to do he'll go into vivid detail, and then after scaring them half to death he'll put it bluntly so his words crashed against them like waves. I'm going to kill you. He's had some faint on him, and others fought to the bloody end. Those were always fun.
"I don't suppose you are out here for the same reason? He prompted, easing away from his wandering thoughts once again.

[.Rabid Lycan.]

Her maw curved slightly with the shift of the atmosphere. “Well, aren’t you honest?” She sidestepped, retreating upriver a few paces to better escape the thunderous waves. I can remember acting that same way. Her ivory and silver coat tugged violently with a surge of wind, and she narrowed her eyes into the breeze. We were all such fools then.
“Nah, I no longer take the time to pick out ‘death holes’, as you call them. If they need to die, and I need to do it, then as far as I’m concerned they’re already ten feet into their own grave.” She smiled lightly, her eyes still alight with a wistful glow. “From what I’ve heard, you’re pretty successful at what you do. Killing, that is. Feel at home here?”
I wish I knew where my home was.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Claws met flesh, a streak of red splashing the surrounding area. Fallen leaves, splattered with blood, crinkled noisily under the shivering of the fallen fae. She wept silently, wondering how her world had spiraled into this madhouse.
No, this impending slaughterhouse.
Slade blinked slowly, unfeelingly, at the whimpering female, and saw only a coward. A coward, and opportunity. And it made him sick with desire. For blood, for lust—for both, even. But the scents began to unnerve him, and he quickly snapped a hasty “Get up, or you’ll definitely die here.” Still in shock, the fae stared up in suspended stupidity until Slade reached down and aggressively forced her up himself.

[H.ell . Fi.re.|†A.lba]

He was about to answer when he smelled the familiar and even unnerving scent of blood. To him, any how. He growled, claws digging into the soft terra. He closed his eyes, and then opened them to pace the edge of the cascades, his pace even with hers. He grinned softly, and said "Being an honest killer is all that much exhilarating. The last thing they know is their blood running cold." He smirked softly, embracind the slaps of wind easily.
No, he didn't feel at home here. Why do you think he did what he did? He grumbled something unintelligent sounding under his breath. He looked at her and said "Do any of us truly belong, Shiver? Or is it that some of us are just permitted into this world?"
He turned his gaze away, and stared into the sky for a few moments.

[.Rabid Lycan.]

A faint ghost of a smile laced her lips. “You make a fine point there, Hellfire.” I suppose that makes two of us that don’t belong. Well, at least two of us. “But at least we have our professions, I suppose.”
A sort of humorous light glistened in her orbs as another gust of wind buffeted her chest. She blinked, suddenly noticing the odd touch of odors in the wind. She had mistaken them originally for fellow Blood Mist—as they did reek distinctly of blood—but now that they have shifted away from the falls, she wasn’t so sure. A foreigner? On our territory?
She lifted her muzzle, twitching her nose at the scent. “Is that anyone you know?”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Slade fastened his fangs around the female’s neck, lifting her from her crippled position and tossing her against a tree. “Cooperate now, or I just might lose my temper,” he hissed, his typical deranged smile now infused with rage. Smells like fire. We need to go. Memories of that catastrophic flames, the searing of flesh—the scarred half of his visage flinched at the very thought.

[H.ell . Fi.re.|†A.lba]

Another wave of blood. He growled, and turned his crown into the direction.
"No. I don't. But I intend of finding out. They don't smell of Blood Mist." And with that, he turned around, and started into a lope, before glancing behind him at Shiver. He looked her up and down, contemplating on if he should ask her if she was coming or not. If there was too much blood, and he lost his control...she would be among the ones to be found dead as well.
He bit his lip, and called "Would you like to come along, Shiver? I think this is going to require some help. Especially if they aren't supposed to be here."

[.Rabid Lycan.]

Her ivory ears swiveled, not surprised at the confirmation. So, there are intruders on our territory. We will soon see to that, then, won’t we? Clearing her throat, she lifted her muzzle and nodded to him. “You go ahead, and I’ll meet you there,” she called. “I have to go upstream a ways and cross where it’s safer; just try to leave something for me, if you can.” She offered a small, teasing smile, though her tone reeked of the literal and serious. I could really use a punching bag today. Shiver then started up the river, glancing a final time at the brute on the opposite side of the water before continuing on her way.
They’ll pay for entering our terra.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Johanna finally shifted with movement, slowly stumbling in the direction that Slade indicated. Blood slid from the open wounds, just barely making the muffled plop noises underneath her exaggeratingly loud breathing. Slade, nearly considering leaving the fae and escaping himself, took a quick glance about him before leading them onward.
There was a river near here, before… safe from any fire.

[H.ell . Fi.re.|†A.lba]

He nodded, and followed the scent of blood. His thoughts were all muddled together. Who were these...wolves that thought they could just waltz right in here and do as they please? No. It wasn't happening. His audits twitched, listening to the breathing of the fae.
Here we go.
Hellfire came from the bushes in front of the baron and the fae. He was nearly blown backwards from the strong scent of blood. He watched her curiously for a moment, before looking to the brute.
"Who the hell are you, and what the hell are you doing on Blood Mist lands." It wasn't a question. It was a demand. A growl ripped from his throat, and a raspy vocal lifted in the air. "And don't try anything funny."

[.Rabid Lycan.]

Slade glanced up, tilting his skull and revealing the grotesque expanse of wrinkled, crimson skin that covered his face. He slowly stared, unblinkingly, and assessed the male. Large, strong. A formidable opponent. The scent, too, unmistakably carried with it an ash flavor. No, it wasn’t concentrated on him, but the stench certainly clung to this brute’s pelt.
“Blood Mist? Is this some kind of cult?” Slade growled lowly, his deep voice resonating within his chest. “These were rogue lands but a few seasons ago.”
Johanna whimpered, feebly attempting to flee while Slade was distracted. Slade immediately whirled about and slammed down on her back, a snarling biting forth from between his fangs.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The swift current began to die as she approached calmer waters. Carefully, Shiver inspected a fallen log, testing her balance by leaping onto the bark. She stared down at the way she had come, wondering if Hellfire had managed to find the source of the disturbance.
And wondering, above all, if he had slain them yet.
She began to cross.

[H.ell . Fi.re.|†A.lba]

Hellfire smirked, and said "Yes, well. You said it yourself. A few seasons ago. No, this is not a cult. You'd do best to look up on recent events. The Blood Mists control this territory now. And I suggest you take your killing else where." He eyed the brute, and then the fae once, and then looked to Slade. "So, just in case I hadn't been clearer earlier, I want your scum bag ass off of the land pronto." He wasn't kidding around either.
He wasn't at liberty to do anything for the fae. They may be on pack territory, but technically, he couldn't do anything for her. That is, unless there was a fight. And he was ready for that as well.
Where was Shiver?"

[.Rabid Lycan.]

His functional eye waning to a mere slit, his jowl itched as he stared up at the brute. “Figures you packs steal all this for yourselves. Alright, I’ll leave. But—”
“Don’t let him kill me!”
As Slade slackened his grip on the fae, Johanna burst out from under the brute and flung her crimson-stained frame at the paws of the newcomer. She sobbed helplessly, pleading for protection as Slade’s expression of annoyance escalating to an intense revulsion. Unable to stand the scene and the horrid sounds (at least in his mind) exiting from her maw, Slade leapt forward and attempted to cuff the fae with a well-aimed paw.
Unfortunately for him, Shiver entered the scene, and—noting the position and assuming Hell was under assault—raced forward to collide with Slade. Without speaking, she sunk her fangs into his chest, and the two rolled away in a fiery tussle.

[H.ell . Fi.re.|†A.lba]

Hellfire watched as everything was blown out of proportion.
Slade and Shiver where tussling. There was a fae begging him to save her.
He couldn't control himself anymore.
Blood lust was starting to take over him, and he looked down at the fae. "Don't worry, love. You and he will meet the same fate. After all, you both are trespassers. You unwilling. Yet, your still a trespasser." A dark chuckle escaped his maw, and he lowered his mouth to her audit. "After all, I can't help myself...you smell too good." And with that, he glanced up to check on Shiver. They would annihilate these trespassers. He looked down at her, and for a second he looked like compassion was washing over him. He thought about it. Thought about it hard...
Nope. Nothing.
He ripped down into the faes nape of her neck, not giving her a chance to fight at all. (I'mma kinda powerplaying, but shes pretty much dead anyways. xD)
One fang hit her jugular vein, and blood splattered all over the place. It seeped down into the soil, and his maw was ultimately soaked to the eyes in her warm blood. He looked up at Shiver, and slowly stalked forward. "I remember tell you not to try anything funny. Because of your actions, you have caused this fae to be murdered. Now, your next." You see, Hellfire didn't play fair. This brute was going to die for something he didn't cause.
But he still was in it. And that was against the law.