+3
theyaregodmistake
mywolfandme
twins-corbin-colleen
The loud, shrill noise of rock striking metal rang like an alarm clock throughout the great plain where the army was resting. At first, the heads of a variety of creatures lifted, but after a moment, they all looked back down to their morning business. They all knew that noise. Their leader was sharpening her axe.
Camilla the Wrath did not earn her name for show. Her very gaze might make some cowardly traitor’s blood run ice cold. Her face was twisted into the very essence of rage and spite, and she honed the vicious-looking axepike upon the flat stone. She took extra care to sharpen the strange, dagger-like prongs, two on each blade, parallel from each other. It glinted evilly in the sunlight as its mistress lifted it to check its edges. Despite its strange appearance, it truly looked like a deadly weapon.
A noise from behind caused what was left of the warlordess’s left ear to twitch. Her thick neck craned around to look at a smaller, skinny-looking fox, dressed in a very baggy green robe and struggling to keep a large haversack from falling to the ground. Camilla stood up with a tiny sigh, walking over to pick the haversack from the fox’s paws. Her leathery-palmed, strong hands almost dwarfed the fox’s. She towered over him by a good foot or two, in fact.
She slung the large haversack over her brawny back. She went back to pick her axepike, assured that it was now sharp as a needle. She didn’t have to examine long, for the shuffling of awkward paws came from behind. Camilla once again released a tired sigh, not bothering to look. “Burfedo?” Her deep, growly voice started. “What is it?”
The fox flattened his ears. He was a healer, and one of the best in the army. In fact, he was Camilla’s personal healer, and in a way, though he never said, therapist. He looked at the ground, sighing himself. “M-Ma’m, I understand why y-you do these…but surely, this is a little brash? There were fifteen of them, ma’m. I know you’re strong, yes, very strong, but—”
"But nothing." The fierceness in her eyes when she whipped around made Burfedo actually cower. There was death in her eyes, longing for bloodshed. "They cornered our foraging patrol and showed them no mercy. Aye, little Zwilla was on that patrol! She had a life ahead of her, Burfedo! And those cowards took it! But nothing! They will rue the day they served Whitebone, the day they slayed their first innocent! Do I make myself clear?" It was hopeless to argue. Burfedo nodded sheepishly.
"Yes, ma’m…"
Camilla snorted. She didn’t waste any more time. She turned back around. “I’ll be back, be patient.” With that, the brawny wolf stalked off, towards the woods surrounding the plain. Burfedo could hear the snarl in her throat. The fox shook his head helplessly. He could not help but pity those ambushers Camilla now sought to kill.
"But nothing, then. It shall be as always with you, ma’m. Death will reign this day!"
Normally, Hector would've brought Aquene with himself. Normally, though, he wasn't out hunting like this. They were running a good deal low on the meatier side of things as winter kept trudging along. The snow had crashed all around the mountain range he lived upon, giving the place a glossy, white sheen.
And, of course, normally Hector wouldn't fall asleep in a snowy tundra of a forest... and wake up with no snow at all around himself. Staring along the area as he jerked his head up, the massive wolf quickly had his body follow suit. A look to his left. No snow. A glance to his right. No ice.
Nothing was around here. Just trees. Wind howled along the area, of course, but wasn't Hector just in a mountain forest with a white blanket all around him? His campfire wasn't even there at this point! What was going on?!
Despite this, he couldn't help but take a few moments to truly scan his area. Ears perked could pick up the sound of very, very faint crackling. Leaves, by the sound of it, being crushed by stalking paws. It wasn't the sound of boots. They weren't trying to be too quiet... especially by the snarl he could hear within their throat. It was a low, harsh, hate-filled growl. Hmph. Wolf, probably on the hunt for a human...
... Well. Hector'd be more than able to help with that. Slowly taking a seat, his legs crossing slowly, he kept his eyes and ears focused entirely upon the wolf approaching. Might as well let them find him to let him show a sign of peace.
