Zmija's 100 Scene Challenge! { comments welcome }

[ossa di cervo]

Ello! So this is where I'll be trying my first ever challenge, the 1oo Scene Challenge! Comments, critique and anything else you could think of is welcome here! I'm not sure yet if I'll use constant characters or if they'll be decided as I write.. I'm not even sure of an order quite yet.. This is probably going to be the most relaxed version of this challenge you'll ever see. Tehe. hence relaxing simba

-----------------
"Get. Off. Right now." // "-gasp- “The plague!” “No!” “YES.” // “Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always.” //
"What are you so afraid of?" // "We’ll be dead by morning." // "This isn't over."
// "Teach me?" // "Sing me a lullaby, please?" // "I thought I lost you." //
“This ain’t that kind of movie.” // “You can’t leave me like this.” //

“Little by little, day by day, okay?” // “... That’s it.”
// “So, uh, we should… probably run now.” // “You’re insane! I love it.”
“Hey, I offered to help you.” // “Who’s laughing now?” // “Would you please just be quiet?”
“Whoa, buttercup, whoa.” // "I can’t believe you talked me into this." // “Marry me?”
“Hey! I was gonna drink that!” // “You did all of this for me?”
“If you die, I’m gonna kill you.” // “Well, this is awkward.” // “It was you who was standing there.”
“That is the stupidest idea you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in.”// “Uh, she’s gunna punch you, man.” //
“BAHAHAHA- ahem.”// “I think I am concussed.”
“You have got to be kidding me.” // “Is it… dead?”
“I’ll just sit here and wait for you to be finished.” // “You wound me.” // “Trust you? PAH.”
“I don’t know who you are.” // “It’s okay. I promise. I’m here.” // “Oh, this is going to be good.”
“Well, I finally got your attention.” // “Like a hole in the head.”// “I'm... okay.”
“Well, are you coming?” // “Where are your pants!?” // “Help me push it.”
“It’s almost midnight, no way!” // “Positively smashing.” // “Don’t let go, okay?”
// “Say that to my mother.” //
“This hurts worse than I thought it would.” // “Hah! - oh, wait, you’re serious?”
“As much as I’d enjoy that…” // “I won’t let you do this.”
“I’ve still got it.” // “I can’t do it. I just can’t.” // "Don’t you ever do that again!"
// "Don’t you dare throw that snowball-"
"It could be worse." // "We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain?"
"I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice." //
“How did you get that scar?” // “You said WHAT?” // “Can you stop bringing that up?”
“Wait for me!” // “STOP TALKING.” // “I do.”
“I don’t want to.” // “What did I ever do to you?!” // “Follow me.”
-SIGH- “I can’t reach it.” // “What are you waiting for?” // “WAIT NO THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT-”
“I don’t need you.” // “You deserve better.” // “If you love something, let it go.”
“Why do I have to wear this?” // “Here goes nothing.” // “Where the heck were you?!”
“I don’t need help.” // “We’re gonna be parents…” // “I didn’t think you knew.”
“I thought those were poisonous.” // “Don’t make me go alone.” // “I’m sorry… I didn’t know.”
“I’d be lost without you.” // “Just leave me!” // “I dare you to…” // “Run!”
“How did you manage that?” // “Liar!” // “I don’t even want to be here.”
“Oh crap, we fell asleep!” // “Is this the life you wanted?” // “GIVE ME THAT.”
“Get back here!” // “Let go of me!” // “I’ll just follow you.” // “YOU DON’T SAY.”
“And yet, you love me anyway.” // “I just thought I’d have a swim.” // “Don’t cry.”
-----------------
urls shall be included as I finish them.. and a new way of coding may be introduced later. Tehe.

[ossa di cervo]

898 words

The war had been going on for ages now and it wasn't often that a soldier actually got granted the luck to return home. More often then not the bodies of wolves would lay scattered across the rubble before the commanders actually let them home to see their families. Every now and then, some lucky sap got the chance to return. Usually that soldier was either extremely talented or a waste of the commander's time.

Fenris be praised, the commander's saw Vanthill as one of those rare, talented hounds. So it was that she got the honor of returning to Snowblood and seeing her precious family before her body became a remnant of the War of Claw. Her body was bruised, her fur practically falling from her skin yet she trudged on, through the snow and wood to find her home.

When finally she stood before the bramble that led home did she stop. Her deep, green eyes landed on the arch of bramble and a sigh couldn't help but slip through her muzzle and fall to the snowy ground. At last, she could let the tension of war slide off her shoulders. Vanthill would hide it as long as she was present within the pack, but she was ecstatic to be home.

The torn up wolf had to pace herself as she strode toward the pack's home, making sure her steps didn't betray her thoughts. She definitely didn't want to be seen as the useless pup that was far too eager to return home.. Van knew her best friend would pick on her for that, if anyone else. At the mere thought of Giltherun, her heart fluttered. The male had been by her side since puphood and while she had earned the right to fight with the warriors of Snowblood, Gil had always been destined to follow the path of a Shaman. Van couldn't say she liked it much but the idea of Gil being safe and away from the terror that was the War of Claw put her heart at ease.

Suddenly, Vanthill stopped, on the very edge of the heart of the pack. Nausea swept over her.

"What if I've changed..?" she whispered to her own feet, "What if Giltherun thinks I've changed..?"

She swallowed hard, trying to collect her nerves. She was a warrior, who cared if she changed? War did that to the pack.. Giltherun couldn't hate her for that.. surely.

After lecturing herself for long enough, Vanthill stepped through the barricade to Snowblood. The pack was alive with activity.. at least they had been. The moment Van walked into sight of the pack they all froze mid-stride to turn toward her. Everyone recognized her scent though it was tough to find under all the blood and.. feline. Vanthill lowered her head to her pack-mates, giving them a moment to realize who it was.. it didn't take long for someone to figure it all out.

"Vanthill!" the howl echoed across the camp and Vanthill turned to see Giltherun tearing across the snowy ground toward her.

At first, a smile stretched across her mug before she realized that there was no possible way for Giltherun to stop before reaching her. Wide eyes and an open jaw replaced her joy as Giltherun barreled into her, sending the two sprawling out into the snow. Giltherun was alive with laughter as he bolted upright, smothering his friend in rough, sloppy, kisses and sharp claws.

"Get. Off." Vanthill muttered through the pauses of Giltherun's excited whines. She couldn't be mad at him but the pain of his claws against her bruised, battered figure was making her.. snappy. Yet he remained, not realizing the mistakes he'd made.

"Right now!" Van's tone was much harsher then she had meant it to be and she could see that only when Giltherun backed away, surprise glittering in his icy blue eyes. Vanthill shook her head, "I didn't mean it like that.. it's just.."

Giltherun nudged at Vanthill with his nose, pinning his ears lightly back in a comforting fashion, "I understand, my friend. You just returned from a war. I shouldn't be so.. excited." his tail began to wag then, all sense of diplomacy gone as quickly as it came.

Vanthill smiled at her most cherished of friends, "It's so good to see you again.." she mumbled.

"And I you." the warmth in his voice made Vanthill's heart melt, "We have much to talk about. I want to hear every last detail about how the war is and what exactly it is your fighting." Giltherun again returned to his playful self by pushing against Vanthill lightly with his shoulders.

"You need to tell me about everything you've learned while I've been gone!" Vanthill's tone grew cheerful as she thought of her best friend excelling at what he loved.

Giltherun let out a hearty chuckle and nodded, "I'll share as much as you do! Come to my den. We can talk there."

Before Vanthill could ask all the questions on her mind the brute began to trudge away toward a secluded part of the camp. The female was left, smiling like a dumbstruck fool, to follow after him. She'd willingly share every last detail of every last encounter with him.. so long as it meant she'd stay next to him.

[ʞ ɔ ǝ ɹ ʍ d ı ʞ s]

Wow
Im not even into wolves, but wooooow.
I absolutely loved this!
I alwaya tryto help with critique but I cant even think of any!
Good job I cant wait to see more! <3

[ossa di cervo]

922 words

"Neikar?!" a voice called out down the stairs that descended into the basement of the rickety cabin.

Neikar basically snarled as he fiddled with the many vials and bottles before him, "What, Hyza?" his voice was like venom as he returned the female's call.

The stairs moaned as Hyza placed her weight delicately on each one, ever nervous that the stairs could collapse below her. This would always cue an eye-roll from Neikar. The petite, elven female would reach a point in the stair well where she could fold herself forward and see Neikar without fully descending. "It's the Rell'gar again. They want more."

Neikar's upper lip curled back lightly, "More?! What could those mangy, half-cats be using all of it on at once?!" a fist flew upward before slamming into the table before the man, sending all the vials and bottles clattering.

Poor Hyza flinched at the sudden anger from Neikar. He was always so unpredictable, "I'm sorry, sir.. Do you want me to send them away..?"

The man Hyza served stood silently hunched over the table for a moment, his breathing the only thing indicating to Hyza that his heart hadn't exploded. Without warning the man turned on his heel, "Of course not! Fetch my coat, Hyza!" A smile widened across Neikar's face as he marched toward the elf and stairs, "I shall speak to the Rell'gar myself!"

Hyza's eyes grew wide and she swallowed hard, "Um.. Sir, are you sure?" she stuttered, having a hard time forming the words to go against her protector, "Don't you remember last time?"

At this point, Neikar had reached the elf and he grinned down at her and placed a hand atop her head. His fingers ruffled the elf's hair and as he pulled away he flicked at one her long, slender ears, "Oh hush, you little bird. Last time I wasn't prepared!" the male essentially skipped up the stairs.

Hyza scrambled after Neikar, grabbing his long black coat from one of the many racks around the cabin. She knew something would go wrong, her tiny heart could feel it, even if Neikar refused to see it. Then again, he always refused to see sense when it came to things like the Rell'gar. So Hyza contented herself with preparing for the inevitable. She fetched Neikar's cloak, his staff and his books then began to set up the long table in the kitchen. Quickly, for she knew that with every second that passed Neikar was closing in on the door, she removed the table cloth and found the many surgery tools they kept present. Along with those she obtained a few potions from Neikar's personal drawers.. ones she hoped would heal the injuries he'd surely obtain.

When she was content with her work she hurried back to the door just in time to see Neikar swing it open. Had she been a stranger she wouldn't have liked Neikar one bit; he had a smug grin on his face and a tone that made any man want to punch him so hard his jaw shattered. Yet here she was, making sure he didn't get hurt yet again.

'Now, you listen here, Mr. Fyn!" Hyza found herself cringing at the way Neikar was speaking.

The thing that stood before Neikar Vrugan was what his people referred to as the Rell'gar; neither human nor animal. They seemed to be a splice of each and this particular one Neikar had called Fyn seemed to share qualities with a tiger. His nails were like long claws, his ears tipped with fur and fangs protruded from his upper lip.

"I think you and your people have had enough essence until next month! You can't go turning into half-wraiths, now can you?" Neikar laughed in Fyn's face. In response the half-tiger's fists clenched and a snarl could be heard from the man-beast. "You must understand the cycle, Fyn, and you obviously won't! So I bid you adieu!" the door slammed in Fyn's face and Neikar quickly skittered backward.

The man grabbed at his staff; a brilliant thing covered in red scales and topped with long, black feathers. He clutched it so hard, Hyza could see the whites of his knuckles but before she could remark, Neikar began to whisper rather.. loudly. "Hyza! Fetch the vial on the counter!"

Hyza was quick to obey and grabbed the bottle: Plauge

The elf let out a whimper, "No.. Neikar."

The two could hear the door creak behind them and the wall shaking roar that followed quickly behind. Neikar turned to see the boards of his front door crack as Fyn pounded his fist against it.

"YES!" was all Neikar said as he snatched the bottle out of Hyza's small fingers. He turned and held the vial tightly in one hand, his staff in the other, "Wish me luck, little bird!"

Hyza let out a disappointed sigh as she turned away from the action and slumped against a wall. Everything always had to die with Neikar.. he never even gave them a chance. Hyza folded her long ears in on themselves as sounds of Neikar and Fyn struggling began to grow. Soon Fyn would be dead in their "living room" and Neikar would be battered beyond sense, leaving Hyza to both dispose of Fyn and patch up Neikar. "You have to understand the cycle, Fyn..." Hyza was growing very, very tired of this cycle...


{ This is not part of the story. It's simply back story I'd like to keep on Neikar. }
Neikar Vrugan had been born into a family of clerics and from day one his mother had cursed his name. The Vrugan's, you see, were a particularly harsh family. Each one had been born with blonde hair and hazel eyes while Neikar bore black, raven hair and eyes like none had ever seen. Even at such a young age the boy's eyes were like tiny spheres of amber.. this scared the Vrugans. The color of an eye was the color of a soul to them and the darker they were, the fewer demons the person harbored. Neikar's mother was positive the boy held many a demon under his pink skin.

So it was that Neikar was sent away to a live in the woods. Alone. His parents made sure he had all the supplies he could ever want for any hobby he could possibly possess. So long as he stayed away from them.

[ossa di cervo]

928 words

Vanthill woke, her eyes greeted by the bright, winter sun. She could just barely see past the hanging lichen and into the clearing that made up Snowblood's home. The dusty grey she-wolf stretched her legs out, her jaws parting into a yawn. A quick, light snap could be heard as her jaws quickly closed and she exited the den Snowblood had given her.

Hearing her stomach growl, her green eyes scanned the camp for Giltherun. Coming back from the War of Claws had made Van realize she couldn't just be seen continually taking from the pack's pile. She was strong and able.. she'd hunt for herself. While she was at it, she decided to take it upon herself to spend time with her best friend. She'd been back for several days now and she still felt like she and Gil had so much to talk about.

Finding his den quickly she stuck her nose through the entrance, "Gil? Would you like to go on a hunt with me?"

"Of course!" she heard Giltherun reply quickly from the back of the den. She could barely see him in the shadows, fumbling with plants or sticks. Her ribcage filled with cold air as she took a relaxing breath, her mind alive with memories of her best friend.

Soon enough the brute was by her side and the two were trotting away from camp, intent on the idea of finding themselves a young buck. They chattered while they moved, reliving the moment they took down their first kill. It was an accomplishment they'd been lucky enough to share and had served as the moment the two became friends.

They'd been mid-chatter when Vanthill cut Giltherun off with a simple flick of her bushy tail. The two stalked apart, quickly locating the young buck. His antlers branched out into only two prongs telling Vanthill this would be a rather simple scuffle.

Vanthill circled around the copse of trees so that she was on the opposite side of the buck from Giltherun. Settling down, she began to wait and listen. It took but a few moments and soon enough she heard Giltherun dive out of the trees toward the buck with a mighty snarl. Van watched closely as Gil got close but not close enough as the buck turned and bolted toward where Van sat in the shadows.

Grinning, she took her chance. The she-wolf's muscles bunched as she lunged forward, locking her canines around the buck's throat. She felt the pulse echo through her teeth and rush through her jaw. Her eyes rolled back as her mind pulled her back to the War of Claws. The young buck kicked and pulled at her jaws, desperately trying to escape, oblivious to the futility of it all.

Before she could even feel the buck give way to death, she was lost.

Yowls of pain and the stench of blood flooded Van's senses. The soft, pale buck's coat was now the wiry copper spotted pelt of a leopard. Vanthill's jaw tightened and she felt like she was going to break her own bone with the force she put behind the bite. Her head instinctively shook to and fro as she saved herself from the leopard's dangerous claws. The grey she-wolf had been so absorbed in the leopard that she hadn't even noticed the presence ahead of her. Green eyes shot forward when the cursed smell of feline hit her nose.

The commander. A massive mountain lion stood before her, hunched down and crawling toward her and her spoils. Vanthill knew the ways of the felines.. she knew they played dirty and never had a warrior of their kind fought justly. The wolf lunged forward on sight of the commander, jaws parted so a snarl tore into the sky.

At the last second, the agile feline dodged her ferocious jaws. Vanthill thought she heard voices calling her but she couldn't tear her focus away from the mountain lion; if she killed him.. she'd be a hero. However, Vanthill was far too terrified to be thinking such things. She felt her legs shaking underneath her as she turned to the mountain lion, her lips curled backward to reveal her canines.

The mountain lion swayed, seeming to taunt Vanthill. Both predator's muscles bunched as they faced each other; Vanthill with fear in her eyes, the mountain lion with bloodlust. Yet with each time Vanthill lunged forward, the lion would dodge and simply stare. It was driving the female mad with frustration. Each time Vanthill soared past the lion she could hear the sounds of battle rage on, louder and louder in her ears.

Shaky legs grew even shakier as Vanthill lunged again and again, slowly convincing herself that this commander would end her life. Just when she thought it was over, in the last arc of her last lunge, did the world come crashing back.

Vanthill saw Giltherun before she tumbled through the snow. The she-wolf didn't even attempt to steady herself as her body was thrown by snow and rock, over and over. Her body lay in the snow, eyes showing no hint of emotion, "I'm..."

Giltherun was quick to find her side and bury his nose deep in her neck fur, "Hush. I'm with you.." Giltherun curled up around Vanthill's worn out frame and nuzzled close, "Okay?'

Just as quickly as the memories had come on, they'd all vanished.. Yet Giltherun was still here for her. Vanthill rolled her sore body over and laid her head on Giltherun's paws, "I'm sorry..." and she always would be.

[ossa di cervo]

1125 words

Not much happened nowadays when you lived in a town like Callahan so Liam had learned to live it out to the fullest. His definition of fullest usually involved bars.

"Is that the best you've got!?" the man's drunken slur could be heard on the dirty street outside, "My ferret could do better then that!"

Not five seconds later did Liam Buckley soar through the door and onto the ground outside. He slid a few feet, tearing a few tiny new holes in his already torn pants and sleeves. The man rolled over with a groan, a small trickle of blood leaving the corner of his mouth, "Now then.." he slurred, stopping to hack a few times, "that wasn't nice."

The bedraggled man pushed himself into a sitting position and looked to the bar doors again to see two men prowling after him. Liam's brow furrowed as he considered raging back into the bar like an upset bull.. luckily the sober part of his brain reminded him that these two men were each twice his size. Rather then storming back in to get his face handed to him on a silver platter the man hastily pushed himself to a stand and patted his knees.

"Don't mind me, you two," his eyes flickered to the men with a chuckle, "bears, you."

Quickly and not so quietly, Liam found his way to his horse he'd left tied up next to the bar. Stumbling over, he managed to trip on a rock and catch himself on his horse's mane. The gelding let out a whinny of shock and turned to Liam with an angry huff and a stomp of a one hooved foot. Liam laughed guiltily, brushing the horse's side and neck, "I know, Po, I know. I'm late." Liam essentially drooled all over the horse and his saddle as he drunkenly admired his steed.

With a quiet, one, two, three Liam hopped up onto the blue roan's back and slid into the saddle. Reins in hand, the man steered the horse slowly away from the bar and pushed him into a trot. The two moved through Callahan, Liam muttering to himself and Poseidon the whole time about anything and everything he could possibly see. Thankfully the horse had made this trip so many times he knew without guidance where it was Liam wanted to be taken; home. When finally he did reach the property, Liam still chatting full force, the gelding threw his front legs into the air followed quickly by his rear legs. Kicking out the gelding finished his buck and looked back to see Liam yet again sprawled out in the dirt. A high pitched whinny flew through the air as Posideon threw his head up and down then biting down on his saddle's strap that wound under his belly.

Liam pushed himself up, still attempting to find his breath, "Posideon!" the man yelled out when he could, all sobriety rushing back to him. The man stomped up to the horse and glowered, "Why should I do you a favor if you can't even take me home without making me a fool!?"

"Poseidon get you again, Liam?"

Liam spun around to see a younger man with light brown hair staring at him from the house, a smile plastered to his face and his arms crossed his chest. The young man burst into laughter when Liam simply stared at him for a few moments then turned back to the troublesome gelding.

"Shut up, Oliver!" Liam shouted. If anyone but Oliver had heard the yell, they'd think the man was outraged; Oliver knew better.

He paced down the wooden stairs that led to the house and jogged out to where Liam stood with Poseidon, "Figured after eleven years, you'd have the mustang under control. Looks like I was wrong." As if on command, Poseidon threw his head back and whinnied, his mane swishing back and forth.

Liam couldn't hold his chuckle back as he rolled his eyes at Oliver's words, "Oh hush. Took you just as long with Gypsy!"

"Gypsy's a mare, it should've taken me a while. Poseidon is a gelding, Liam." Oliver slapped Liam's shoulder then hurried back toward the house, "Hurry up and come inside! I've got a surprise!" About halfway to the house Oliver stopped and turned toward Liam, "Oh and.. we've had Gypsy and Poseidon since they were foals, remember? We've spent the same amount of time with them." Oliver grinned at the wince of irritation Liam sent his way before retreating to the house fully.

Liam shook his head and rubbed at his temples. Not even ten minutes ago he'd been getting harassed at a bar for being too intoxicated. Now his little brother was handing over his shoulder telling him he had surprises. With Poseidon throwing him this way and that Liam wasn't sure he could handle another surprise, especially is Oliver was behind the reins. The older man simply shook his head with a smile and began to remove the tack off of Poseidon.

When finished the gelding seemed thoroughly relived and found Gypsy's side in a matter of seconds. Liam turned from the horses, took a deep breath and then headed inside. Right outside the door Liam removed a dagger from his belt along with a few other trinkets and turned so his back could push the front door open. His eyes were locked on the objects in his hands while he mentally arranged where he'd stash everything.

He reached the living room when his eyes glanced up.

Instantly the objects in his hands clattered to the floor, his hands stiff at his sides. He could see through the living area to the back from where he was and there was just enough room to see the back of her head and just that gave the man a heart attack. Liam felt like his breath was escaping him as he stood, staring breathlessly at his yard.

"What are you so afraid of?" Oliver's voice chimed in from behind Liam.

Liam turned on his heel, his face bright with anger, "Why is she here!?"

Oliver held his hands out, shaking his head in almost disappointed fashion, "Liam. Why are you so scared?"

"I didn't ask what you said!" Liam was basically screaming at his point, the veins in his neck shooting forward with his aggression, "I asked you WHY-" a presence on his forearm stopped him dead, his face flushed white.

"Liam." her voice was as gentle and warm as a summer rain.

Liam's eyes remained glued to Oliver's face, the panic he felt cornering him like a stricken doe. Her hand stayed on his forearm, burning a hole through his concentration and lighting memories like a wildfire. Adventures, caravans, riches, glory.. pain, regret, mistakes..

Liam suddenly tore his arm away from the girl next to him, "Leave." he stormed off a few feet, "I'm not scared of anything." the words were spit over his shoulder as he continued on his way. He didn't need Ivy. Not anymore.

[ossa di cervo]

1407 words

Hyza trudged quietly behind Neikar, keeping her eyes glued to the back of his head. To say that the small elf was scared would be an understatement, the poor girl was terrified and it showed in her fingers. They were constantly moving and fumbling with small rocks or blades of grass. If Neikar made even the slightest move toward looking at her, the object would be flung out of sight and her hands would shoot to her sides. Every other feature about Hyza was perfectly blank, as if etched onto a walking statue.

The two entered the woods and Hyza made the mistake of glancing at a tree just as Neikar threw a look over his shoulder, "What are you thinking?"

Hyza jumped at his words, her face turning away from him entirely at that point, "Thinking?" she mumbled.

A corner of Neikar's mouth twitched as he stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face Hyza. One of the necromancer's eyebrows shifted and he grunted, moving his staff in front of him. He fiddled with one of the giant black feathers he'd attached to the staff with strings, or maybe magic, letting the silence after Hyza's last word play itself out.

Hyza shuffled awkwardly, knowing fully well Neikar didn't plan on reiterating himself, "I wasn't thinking anything." her eyes made brief contact with Neikar's face before returning to her feet.

"You were!" Neikar shouted, a smile on his face as if the fact were obvious and he found Hyza stupid for not seeing. The man stepped toward Hyza and hooked a finger under the elf's chin, tilting her eyes toward his. Hyza, of course, made no attempt to resist, "If you think this is a bad idea, I want to know."

Hyza swallowed hard. It wasn't often that Neikar forced her to make eye contact and twice as unusual for him to get so close, "I, uh.." her brow knitted together, she didn't know what answer the human was looking for, "do."

"You do?" Neikar replied, obviously confused, "Do what?"

A step backward from Neikar released Hyza and she let out the breath she was unconsciously holding, "I do think this is a bad idea." she blurted out, afraid her freedom wouldn't last long unless she spit it out.

Neikar regarded Hyza with a hard stare for a long moment before shrugging, "Oh well." He spun on his heel and continued on, staff clicking away at the path they followed, "Lucky for me, I don't need your approval!"

Hyza was left in the path like a stunned deer, "...what?" she whispered to herself staring after Neikar. For a moment she was content to simply stay there, trying to figure out the enigma that was Neikar but then she remembered that Neikar wouldn't appreciate her lollygagging around. Hyza sprinted after the male and caught up quickly, "What is that thing, anyhow?" she said, finally bringing up the one thing the two had been avoiding.

Neikar's other hand appeared from within his robes, seeming to glow a dark red. Each of the beings around found their eyes locked on Neikar's hand then and it suddenly felt like a heavy rain cloud had settled above them. The man's golden eyes found Hyza's and he bit at his lip, "Dunno!" quickly the thing was stuffed into his robes again and he started forward.

"You don't know!? Neikar, we'll be dead by morning at this rate!" Hyza shouted, her temper getting the better of her. She knew she shouldn't yell at the man but to march right up to a chimera's liar with something you hoped would compel it!? Pure insanity!

Hyza saw the brief rise and fall of Neikar's shoulders and she instantly knew she'd be getting nothing more from him. Begrudgingly she lowered her head and followed after him, intent on her feet. The two marched on for a few more miles, both content to brood and boil by themselves.

When Neikar stopped a waterfall was within hearing range, "We're here!" the necromancer giggled like a child about to set off a school volcano. He led them a few feet farther so that the waterfall was in sight and they could just barely see the gaping cave that resided behind it.

Hyza glanced at Neikar, her heart racing, "What do you want me to do?"

Yet another shrug came from Neikar as he frowned, "Nothing, really. The egg is all I need." out came the glowing hand, this time revealing it's contents. A small egg sat in Neikar's palm, no bigger then a chicken egg, glowing like a hot ember. Fingers were quick to conceal the small thing again, "I'll be back, little bird!"

Hyza watched as Neikar took off toward the cave. He stopped a few feet away and took the small egg out of his cloak again and set it down on a flat rock. Neikar was wary of the cave, glancing up every few seconds to make sure the rumored chimera didn't come steal him away.

After a few moments of fiddling he was quick to return to Hyza, "Here goes." a whistle rang out into the air, so unexpected that Hyza flinched. Neikar slapped a hand on the elf's back, smirking at how he'd frightened her. His attention was swiftly returned to the cave as a creature began to move behind the water.

The lion's head appeared first, already snarling and making a fuss. It was a massive thing that made Hyza's jaw fall on it's hinge. It took a few seconds for the creature to move out into the light fully but the moment it saw Neikar's egg, it made steady progress. The goat head wasn't quite as stunning to the duo, but they continued to gawk nonetheless. A pair of red leathery wings spread out as they found freedom, giving way to the finally head on the giant thing; the snake. The snake lashed this way and that, constantly looking in all directions to make sure the thing as a whole was safe.

Hyza and Neikar both watched in silence as the chimera trotted toward the egg, muscles bouncing. Once it reached the object it had settled down measurably; the lion no longer snarled and the snake seemed happy just to look at the egg. Neikar was set off giggling again, his excitement at seeing the chimera even take interest in his creation making him shake.

After moments of examination the chimera finally did what Neikar was praying for; the lion's tongue rolled out, scooped up the egg and swallowed it whole. It seemed unaffected as it meandered and attempted to find more to eat.. then it froze. Ten seconds passed, Hyza had counted under her breath, before it moved again and it's path seemed unchanged.

Neikar stood then and stomped out of the underbrush before Hyza could say anything on the matter. She watched, in terrified silence, as Neikar marched right up to the beast. At first, the chimera seemed confused more then anything but when Neikar got close enough the massive thing let out what could only be called a bark. It then began to trot toward Neikar, all heads seeming excited to go greet him. The lion made contact first in the form of a tongue across the necromancer's face.

Hyza was again, stunned into silence. The elf had fully expected to die tonight and now she was watching a necromancer cuddle with a massive killing machine.

Neikar led the chimera to the brush where he had left Hyza after a few moments of bonding, "So, Hyza. I don't think we're dead."

The small elf slowly appeared from the brush in front of Neikar, "I'm sorry."

"Next time just trust me!" Neikar slapped a hand across the elf's back again, letting out a wholehearted chuckle, "Meet our new partner, Ithric!" he gestured toward the chimera who seemed to puff his chest out proudly.

Hyza shook her head. She didn't even want to question how he'd named the beast right now, she just wanted to make it home before 'Ithric' turned around and ate them. Giving Neikar what he wanted the elf smiled emptily, "Hello, Ithric." she then abruptly turned to Neikar, "Now let's go home.."

Neikar smiled and nodded, "Let's."

Neikar and Hyza started off in the direction they had come only this time a massive half lion, half dragon followed closely behind them. Hyza couldn't say she wasn't impressed.

[ossa di cervo]

1334 words

She hated everything about Paxton. Her fingers trembled thinking about the man even now and she snarled under the cloth covering her mouth, spitting his name to the ground like a curse. The girl was draped in black from head to toe and a hood was thrown to conceal her hair; it was obvious that she'd spent a lot of time plotting this exact moment. Yet she sat silently in the shadows atop the wooden scaffolding staring intently at a building a few hundred feet away like a panther waiting patiently to strike down an antelope.

The sun slowly sank into the sky behind Brinkley while she remained, frozen in place. When she had decided it was dark enough the sleek girl swung from wooden beam to beam reaching the ground with a great amount of grace. She hit the ground with no more then a dull thud and took off the moment she could. Brinkley sprinted toward the castle she'd been so intent on from her perch, clinging desperately to the shadows. Torches flickered here and there and she could hear the rustle of guards in their plate as they shuffled about. Brinkley was no ordinary girl, however. She'd spent months upon months simply learning the routine of these guards and how they fought. Those months spent studying paid off; Brinkley made it inside the building with no more then one glance of confusion in her wake.

Once inside, she pressed herself against a wall and let out a deep breath. She'd come in through the back; a place rarely visited by the guards or even the royals themselves. The walls were littered with spiderwebs and old kegs full of puncture holes from Mylene knows what stood here and there. Brinkley instinctively pulled her hood farther over her eyes as she took a step away from the wall toward to the door. Guards lay beyond that door and if Brinkley had been honest with herself she wouldn't have progressed, she would've realized this was an awful idea.

The stubborn rogue pushed the foul ideas from her mind as she gently eased the door open, making sure no creaks emitted. Icy eyes scanned the area outside the door - the ballroom. Her mind went spiraling for a moment.. if she was in the ballroom and this room was full of cobwebs and kegs.

"Storage." she whispered to herself. Paxton should have known better then to keep these rooms; many a king had been assaulted thanks to these rooms.

A sly grin cracked under her mask then; she was going to use this room just as those she'd studied had. Oh the irony that would never be truly appreciated by anyone but Brinkley. It made the girl pause and take in a deep breath, smell the roses.

Brinkley had always been a vain individual and to many it would've come as a shock that she'd stopped fretting over herself at this moment. She did, though, and continued on with her mission; Paxton. She refused to let go of this prize, even if it meant getting over herself.

The girl again fell into her predatory state, slinking close to walls with her head low. With all the studying, Brinkley had of course, ensured that the castle would be empty on the day of her arrival. All of the guards would be in the courtyard along with Paxton himself, staring at a pretty little princess as she spun around in circles. A pathetic girl in Brinkley's eyes but she served as a good distraction nonetheless.

The thief slunk through several halls, making sure she tilted a few family portraits on her way. Flowers got petals plucked, vases were begrudgingly left alone, drapes got a blade through them, picture frames got gems stolen; Brinkley made sure to subtly move nearly everything she passed. Until she reached her door.

Paxton's door was stunning when placed next to commoner doors. The metal holding it together twirled and looped, the wood was stained a deep color. For a moment, Brinkley could no more then run her fingers across it's surface, so jealous she was. She bit down on her lip hard, now wasn't the time to get cold feet and restart in attempts to become a new Paxton. Now was the time for her to get back for her. She'd show Paxton. Throw something at Brinkley Altham and you got something thrown back.

The vengeful girl pushed the door open and was sent to work. She scattered papers after she was sure she didn't want them. She'd come here for one item in particular but what harm could it do to steal multiple items? Especially if they got her money.

Then she found it. She found it and could hardly move a muscle.

Brinkley had pulled a drawer open and found the dagger. The blade curved in the slightest and it looked like it was white however it seemed to be blood stained, as if recently used. The hilt was actually a dragon's maw stretched outward in a mighty screech and it's two fangs were blood-red rubies.

"My most precious of possessions. Stolen in the blink of an eye, eh?"

Brinkley spun around immediately. How!? How had someone found her? They were all supposed to be watching that wretched princess, she was sure of it! The shock she felt now doubled when her eyes connected with that of Paxton. Under her hood her mouth sat ajar, the worry not yet settling. Swallowing, she conquered her inner terrors. Paxton had just used her name; play on words or not he knew that alias she used. Brinkley just hoped that the nickname Blink was all he was aware of.

Quick to snatch the dagger up and shove it into a boot she stood. She bowed elegantly, "So you know of me. I'm flattered."

Paxton groaned angrily, "How could anyone not know of the thieving rat named Blink? You've become infamous in my precious city."

"Infamy wasn't what I was going for but I suppose it works." Blink shrugged, her blue eyes narrowing as she faced Paxton.

The male rushed forward, fury evident on his every feature, "Shut up!" he whipped a sword out from it's sheath at his side and pointed the end of it's blade toward Blink.

The girl in black threw her hands up in the air, "Oh no!" she said with mock fear, "I wasn't even aware that you could hold that thing! Are you sure you won't hurt yourself?" as Brinkley spoke she slowly took steps backward, closing the gap between her and the nearby window. Paxton, on the other hand, seemed stranded on the other side of his massive desk, too stupid to simply walk around.

Paxton slammed the one fist he had against the desk, causing his sword hand to shake. Brinkley let out an audible chuckle and Paxton couldn't handle anymore. He rushed around the desk in an attempt to reach the girl but by the time he'd gotten to where she was she was gone.

Brinkley leaped from the window, swan diving toward the lake she knew was outside of Paxton's keep. Her heart was alive with the heated joy of what had just happened. Not only had she gotten the dagger but she'd been able to openly mock the one man she'd served for years before.

"This isn't over you rat!" she heard Paxton screaming at the top of his lungs from the window above, "Guards! Fetch me that.." slowly the words drifted and the girl slammed into the water in a daze. It only took her a few moments to find her breath again and when she did she quickly swam to the nearby shore where she'd left her horse hours ago.

Brinkley Altham hoped onto the beast's back and was galloping away in mere seconds. The first step on her path of revenge had been a success. Now to plan step two.

[ossa di cervo]

1566 words

Silas had, once upon a time, been a man regarded in high esteem. Recently, it seemed to be a different story. His body couldn't keep up, his joints ached and his head pounded when he simply thought of lifting a weapon. It made the man's heart grow black as he aged. A tiny portion of his soul fought on, shining through in the moments that Silas picked a dagger up and twirled it in his fingers or swung it wildly at an invisible combatant. Those tiny. fleeting moments were just that, however; fleeting. Just as quickly as they found a spark, they were extinguished.

Even the public moved on. The once valiant Silas Sunderfell was growing old, weak and pathetic! He no longer attracted the hopeful eyes of young men just learning to wield a sword or the doe eyes of the blushing gals! "Oh, but that one does, don't you see him? The one just beyond the old Sunderfell. Ah yes, ah yes!"

Like a lighthouse among that dark heart stood Lark, Silas's wonderful wife. She kept that tiny fragment of a fighting soul alive and burning despite the sorrow Silas had to endure. It was because of her that Liam caught his father swishing that dagger so fluidly through his fingers. The metal danced in the light and the tiny boy eyed the thing it awe, his mouth a perfect 'o'.

"Dad!" he called out, rushing out from behind the hallway's wall.

Silas jumped in shock, losing control of the dagger for a second. Quickly snatching it up, the old veteran turned to his son, "Liam Sunderfell!" His tone made the young boy stop in his tracks, eyes already welling up with tears in preparation for the anger he expected. Silas instead sighed and fell down on to one knee, "What is it, my boy?"

Liam's vision turned to the dagger his father still held in his hands and he reached out tentatively toward one, "Let me try..?" his eyes glanced at his father, still half-preparing for an outlash.

Silas's brow furrowed and he shook his head, "I don't think so, Liam." before Liam could open his mouth to retort he held up a finger, "Your mother and I have a little something else for you though." a small smile managed to creep onto the older man's face as he watched his son's face grow excited, "Go get your brother and meet me outside."

Liam was quick to sprint away from his father and up a set of stairs that led to his room. The child tripped over a stair and caught himself with one hand then began running up the stairs like a four-legged beast. There was no way he'd let himself slow down now; dad had a surprise! When he reached the room he and his brother shared he shoved the door open, "Oliver! Quick, get up!" Liam found his brother in a heartbeat and began to shake the younger boy, "Dad's got a surprise!"

The small form of Oliver shot up at the word 'surprise'. He looked at his brother with wide eyes, "Dad!?" he squealed, excitement already taking over.

Liam brightened up at the mere sight of how happy his brother is. His head vigorously bobbed up and down, "Yeah! Come on!" he snatched his little brother's hand and dragged him out of bed.

Oliver stumbled out of bed and the two hurried down the stairs hand in hand. The only reason the two let go was so they could push the front door open as a unit. When they were outside, they noticed their father next to the old barn they used for storage. The set of brothers glanced at one another, a spark of curiosity lighting. Within a single warning the two took off across the front yard to where their father stood, their tiny legs pumping them in the fastest clumsy sprint they could handle.

When they reached Silas they both hunched over with deep breaths, sweat just barely beginning to bead on their foreheads. Silas let out a hearty laugh, "I hope you two are ready to do a lot more of that!" he gestured at their brows.

Lark stood next to the man with a small smile and an arm looped through one of his, "Oh, you two are in for a surprise!"

At this point Liam and Oliver were prancing in one spot with excitement, fists clenched at their chests, trying their darnedest to hold back the squeals. Silas laughed again, pulling Lark in closer to him, watching in amusement as the two boys hopped about. He grabbed a hold of one of the barn doors and the two kids grew still and silent, their eyes wider then they'd been all morning.

"Now, before I open these doors, do you boys promise me you'll take care of whatever is in here?"

"Yes!" the boy's did let a moment pass before they answered.

"You promise!?" Silas asked more sternly, eyeing his two sons.

They let their gaze flicker to him as they nodded, "Yes, father, we promise to take care of whatever is in there!"

Silas smiled, proud he didn't have to ask what his boys were promising. With one final wink sent in Lark's direction, he pulled one of the barn doors open. Light flooded the barn and in the back of the shelter, standing on wobbly legs were two foals. The children puffed up, their eyes growing wider then Silas imagined they would but before they could let all that air out in the form of a shriek, Silas held up a finger and shook his head. The children bit down on their lips and slowly exhaled as they took a few steps toward the tiny horses.

"You can't be too loud or you'll spook them. You have to decide between the two of you who gets which one." Silas let the words sink into the two, "After you figure that out, I have another gift."

Liam and Oliver couldn't believe it. Two gifts!? From dad!? They eyed each other with open jaws, motionless with shock for a split second. Then they remembered the task at hand; they had horses! They stood a distance away, content to simply look at them for a moment.

The one on the left was the larger of the two and Silas would come to tell them that this one was the colt. He had a dark face and each of his legs were black from the knees down while the rest of him was a dark blue-ish color. Liam reached forward and stroked at the colt's dark black mane and giggled as the small thing threw his head up with a snort and chewed at Liam's jacket sleeve. Silas would again intervene to tell his boys that this was what people called a 'blue roan' and that the colt was feisty and would need extra work.

The little filly on the left was splattered with both brown and white. Her face was split between the two colors causing her to have one blue eye and one brown. When the boys approached her she simply lowered her head and took a step toward them, welcoming the attention. Silas piped in to tell them she was a 'paint' and unfortunately, she isn't the boy's sister.

When the boys finished their examination they knew who wanted which.

"The blue one!" Liam cheerfully declared.

Oliver threw a hand in the air, "The paint!"

Silas nodded with a smile, "Then it's decided." he jerked his head to the side, signalling that the two should follow him then headed toward a section of the barn to the side. Silas reached a set of makeshift cabinets that were as tall as he and pulled two boxes from within. Oliver got a box almost twice as big as he was while Liam got one that was barely the size of his forearm. When Liam made a face of protest his father interrupted, "Hush. Wait a moment. Let me explain."

Liam crossed his litter arms as his father moved toward the box he'd given his brother. Silas laid it down and took the lid off, revealing an elegant, arched bow. It was beautifully crafted, ivy seemed to be crawling up and down the wood and the ends were tipped with silver that was also engraved. Silas laid a hand over the larger one and laid his eyes on Oliver, "This is what you'll get when you show me you want it." Silas procured a smaller version of the longbow and handed it to Oliver, "Practice with this. I'll show you how later." He ruffled Oliver's hair and turned to Liam after he'd put the lid back on the larger longbow.

"Now then. Little Liam." He opened the box he'd given Liam to reveal a dagger who's metal also had the same ivy like engravings. The edges of the blade even looked like plant type material and the hilt was a deep, forest green. Liam's eyes connected with his fathers; how embarrassed he was to have doubted him. Silas smiled at him lightly in return, "Like Oliver, you have to prove you want it." he then procured the dagger that Liam would practice with. A simple thin made of plain old silver metal.

Silas stood and smiled down at his two sons, "This I will teach you."

[ossa di cervo]

1099 words

Vanthill crept closer, her hunting much like that of a lion. That's what happened to a warrior, she'd always say, "To kill a cat, you have to be a cat!" Her prey at the moment was a cat, however, yet the rabbit seemed to be oblivious to the stalking as most of the cats were. She kept her tail still as she moved closer, her mouth watering with the expected catch.

"Vanthill!" the howl tore across the field, startling not only the rabbit but Vanthill herself as well.

The female's head shot up, her ears pricked forward, all muscles tensed. She heard the other wolf before she saw him and the female spun in a tight circle quickly, a snarl already on her lips. The other wolf stormed down the gentle hill of the valley toward Vanthill, his tail straight up in the air. This made Vanthill nervous and she forgot to snarl, so worried about home by the mere notion of a messenger in such a state. As the messenger approached she recognized the brute and lowered her head respectfully, "Telsar? Why such a call?"

Telsar made no attempt to greet Vanthill, "It's urgent. You need to come back with me."

Vanthill's ears fell back and she eyed the male in front of her, "What is it?"

Telsar shook his head, looking away from Vanthill, "I can't explain." Vanthill was a renown warrior for the War of Claws and Telsar was no more then a mere messenger; he'd not be giving this girl any bad news any time soon, "Just please. Come home."

Before she could reply Telsar took off back the way he had come.

Vanthill sat alone in the field for a second, her worry getting to her head. Her mind spun with horrible scenarios; what if Gil was hurt? Her mother? The alpha!? What if something was happening on the war field and she had to go back? Her heart sank at the idea of having to leave home again and go back to that bloody place. Her body quivered at the idea and she shook her head, she needed to just go and figure out what was happening.

The grey wolf didn't stop thinking about the bad until she arrived at the pack barrier. Quickly, she made her way into camp and was instantly pounced on, "Vanthill! We've been waiting for you, hurry, quickly!" Vanthill barely had time to recognize Kirem, one of the pack elders before she was ushered along to one of the shaman dens. The smell of sickness hit Van's nose like a brick wall and she stopped in her tracks, fear locking onto her.

Panic began to settle on the wolf's shoulders, "What's going on?" she asked, "Why did you bring me here?" she snapped, growing impatient as the seconds ticked on, "Who's in here!?" she growled, terrified to hear the answer.

"I.. am.." a weak voice wheezed from the back of the cave.

Vanthill's eyes grew wide, her ears pinning against her skull in her shock, "No." She shook her head slowly at first, fear paralyzing her every limb, "No.. please." her voice cracked as her eyes adjusted to the lighting of the den and the form of Seyllmos began to appear.

"I'm.." a series of weak coughs were emitted from the old she-wolf, "..dying." she wheezed and snarled lightly, angry with herself, "I know.. you'd make your.." Seyllmos shook as she hacked and whined, "father proud." she finished after a moment.

Vanthill's limbs were still fear locked as she watched her mother struggle to form words. She'd known that the old wolf was ill but never this stricken. Vanthill began to take a step forward, finally overcoming a portion of her terror but it quickly seized hold again and the she-wolf tumbled down like a rag-doll, "Mother, no.." she whispered, her words laced in grief.

A light chuckle from Seyllmos bounced around the den walls, "Van.. thill." Painfully the mother stood and made her way toward her crushed daughter. When she made it she tumbled down in a similar fashion as Vanthill, "What did.. your father and I.. teach you?"

"Everything dies. We all have our time." Vanthill choked on the words, not wanting to admit that she'd known her mother would leave her at some point.

Seyllmos shakily drew her tongue across her daughter's cheek, "Exactly... You'll be.. fine.." the older wolf laid her head on her own paws then and let out a long sigh.

Vanthill turned her eyes toward the den mouth. She knew her mother would say no more, she could feel the inside of her chest burning it's way through her pelt and she swallowed down the sorrow that wrecked her body. Without a single glance back the female stood and left the den with her head hanging low. Vanthill felt like standing in the middle of the war and giving herself to the felines at that moment. She didn't care about what happened to her.. she'd give anything to see Sey again..

"Van..?'

The grey girl let out a heavy sigh and grunted in response to the question. She continued to trudge forward, not caring where she went or who it was that was following her.

"I'm.. really, really, sorry." Giltherun prodded the females neck with his nose in the most comforting manner he could think of.

Vanthill didn't let his words phase her as she left the pack territory. Everyone knew to leave her be but Giltherun followed by her side, refusing to let her be alone for her own safety. He followed close, keeping their pelts brushing and making sure Vanthill felt the warmth emanating from his own body.

Suddenly Vanthill stopped and dropped to the ground. She moved lifelessly and Giltherun could only look upon her with grief in his eyes and regret that he could do nothing more for her then simply.. exist. Vanthill lay on the ground, her eyes staring off at a world found only by her, "Gil..?" she spoke finally.

"Yes..?" Giltherun replied, laying close to her.

"Can you sing me a lullaby..? Please?" Vanthill moved closer to the male, seeking his company. She pressed her head against his neck, willing herself not to break at that moment.

Giltherun relaxed a little bit, easing against Vanthill's form, "Of course, my love." He hastily swiped a tongue across her ears before lifting his jaws to the heavens. His chest filled a released as a long, eerily calm howl resounded across the territory.

Vanthill's eyes fluttered as she laid her head on the male's legs, "Thank you.."