G
Guest
Guest
I made this thing..& I'm stuck. I'd really appreciate your help.
The Nightsong.
by bluepencil
You do not know me. No one knows me. You and your kind will never even begin to understand the many things that I hold dear. I slink through the night, and peek at you from the shadows, and my voice will send a chill of fear down your spine.
My mate nuzzles my back, for it time to leave...the hunt is over and the prey has been cut off from the Circle of Life.
Good.
Learn well, human..for I will say this to you only once.
I am called Hrranhrr...which in your tounge would mean 'He whose fangs bite into the Night.' I was called thus, because I was born with strange fangs, sharp teeth that seemed to glow in the darkness. For some reason, I do my best if my Hunt is under the shadows of the sunless sky.
I was born into a pack. My sire, Uhuaauao, was the leader of the pack. My mother was Grrhi, and she was the Demon of the Wastes. Even my father dared not contradict her when she felt she was right. For she could fight like a berserker, and had won his favor by utterly beating several other bitches in an all-out match.
As such, my puppyhood was hard. I was not entirely expected to become the leader of the pack. It is solely an earned right, but my blood was of the strong, and even then, it was not something I wished. I spent my days prowling around the hunting grounds, occasionally stopping to kill one of those furry things you call rats. I was about their size, but I was much more agile, and had longer and more powerful jaws.
I loved the feel of a dying, squealing rat in my jaws. Even now, I stop to snack on those.
And it is this little personality quirk that changed my life.
One day, I was out hunting for rats again, and my mother had grown impatient with my constant wandering. She told my father sharply to look for me, and he complied. He growled at the members of the pack who laughed at seeing him with his tail hung low, and started to search.
I was out in the wasteland, taunting a mole rat. Fat, stupid mole rat..it tried hard to slash me with its pudgy claws, but always I sidestepped and bit it in the flank. I heard a low, menacing growl from behind me, and turned around sharply, letting the rat escape.
It was my father. He stood on a rocky knoll, looking disapprovingly at me from on high. He gave a throaty growl of disapproval and motioned me to head back to the den.
I gave a yelp, as his head suddenly exploded into a bloody gush.
I turned and saw what seemed to be spindly things that stood on two legs, with appendages that flapped around. Its body shone in the midday sun, it pointed at me with a silvery object.
I yelped again as the ground in front of me became a burnt hole.
I ran, ignoring the explosions that hit around me. A shot grazed my shoulder, causing a deep cut. As I ran, I could her the unmistakable sound of laughter. High-pitched and strange, but laughter nonetheless. Biting and harsh ite echoed in the hot noon air, a pack leader should have been led to the Great Beyond with howls of mournful defiance. We are part of a Great Circle of Life and Death, and we accept this... But instead, my noble father died a sudden ignominous death, not at the Hunt, as he would have preferred.
It was my first encounter with your kind, Outlander. Mayhaps I will kill now you in memory of one of the greatest leaders of the Pack?
No?
I will continue.
I arrived at the den breathlessly, and the pack didn't need words to know what had happened. They could see it in my ragged stance, in the horror in my eyes.
There was some dicussion on who shall lead, but in the end, the most fierce won. My mother led us East, to the far reaches of her birthland. We could not stay there no longer, as each day, we say Great Black Beasts shriek and fly in the sky overhead, ugly and wingless.
We traveled, the pack and I. Through the desert we slunk at night, and slept in holes we dug in the day. It was a hard journey, but we made it. We would go for days withour food or water, then suddenly come upon a brood of Mole Rats, or Geckoes, which we easily killed and filled our anxious bellies.
It was a hard life, yea, but in this life I grew. I soon outstripped all the other members of the pack in height and girth....and looked to be the alpha male.
But, as my mother said.....I was of good stock...but brains I had none....and she was right. She remained the leader...a fact of which we all concurred as best. She was born to be a leader, and had been only hampered temporarily by her gender.
The days grew chill, and our fur started to thicken, and our journey was nearly over. One night, we heard howling in the distance. The ears of the pack, and we restorted with our own howls, showing them who we are, how superior our number, and how foolish it was to try and cross us.
We traded howls for much of the early night, and as time went on, the howls were shorter, less distant. and from out of the shadow of a sand dune, stepped out another Wolfen Pack.
I slid into a ready stance instantly, and was puzzled because my pack did not do the same. Other packs meant rival, in either food or territory. We were well-fed, and ready...why do we not attack? Why do they loll around, treating this with all casuality?
What made this pack so special?
It wasn't until some of my aunts nuzzled up to male mebers of the other pack that I understood. This pack wasn't ut for either food or prestige..or teritorial gains. No...
It was a mating run.
I slunk away, as this was a matter I was most unfamiliar with. The entire pack was acting like silly puppies now, cavoriting in the moonlight. Only my mother seemed disaffected, for she was busy laughing at the several males kneeling by her feet.
I whimpered and padded off..
It was then that I saw...her...
She stood by a cactus clump, resplendent in the moonlight. It glinted off her almost sivery mane like the sunlight in a pool. Her body was taut, slim, and had the look of hidden strength. Her face was beautiful, her mussle sharp and pointing, her eyes the deepest violet, a rarity, I know... Her flank was solid and bore the signs of hunting practice...I moved down and peered at her wondeful rump from behind a
grass bush.
Shut up, female. You are flattered, I know of it. Do not try to act so embarrased.
Forgive my mate. she is such a prude with company. But, let her and I alone together...owoooo!
*growl*That had hurt. I'll stop. I'll stop. *whimper*
I approached her, even at least to know her name. I was suprised and taken aback, when she suddenly leapt at me with a growl and bit into my neck. I skittered away somewhat and let the hairs on my neck rise. My growl was more of curiousity than hostility, and I sniffed in her direction...trying to catch the scent of the brain-rot.
There was none. She snorted contemptously at me and went back to her post at the top of the small hill. I grinned wickedly, I saw her game..
Once again, I went downwind, and let my dark fur blend into the
darkness..
I sprang at her from behind, and caught off-guard, she and I tumbled down the slope to the sandy ground below. While I stood over her, victorious, I finally learned her name....it was Mirrha, she whose eyes pierce the night...
I had gotten us lost.
In the night-long tryst, we had romped all over the Wasteland, and ended up somewhere with a lot of trees, and no pack. I howled out into the sky, and I heard a sound from the distance, a reply. A plaintive call..for help!
We sprang running into the direction of the sound. As we neared the place, dust shireked and swirled around us. We dropped to the ground, and saw anothe one of those great screaming black flying beasts rise up from the ground and fly away.
It was simple the most horrid sight in my life, the memory of which will be etched into my mind for eternity. The blood, the blood, sickly-sweet was its scent in the air. My pack was scatered along the sandy ground, dead....and headless...
I caught the smell of burning, of metal...of _humans_........
I lifted my face up into the nighten air, and howled, expressing all my rage, my sadness..All my life, I had known only the pack, and now, they were taken from me..a an act that reeked of unfairness, of malice. I felt a snarl in my throat, and I let it out into the sky.
My mate joined me, and we filled the night with howlings of despair.
It was the day I pronounced vendetta on your kind.
Yea, we were scourge of the wastes, and many were the unsuspecting to fall into my jaws. You men think you are so smart...so invulnerable. And yet, even with those hard shells that you wear, you could not stand against me.
Fools.
Why do you leave the most important parts uncovered? Like your neck, for instance?
---------
The neuron stops here. What should I do with it? Should I turn the wolf into Dogmeat? Or have him meet Goris? Or something else entirely??
All comments are welcome, even flames.
http://uro.topcities.com/bpenbp.jpg
~cause anything less than total and utter overkill is a complete waste of time~
-it's the freakin' bluepencil!
~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^
The Nightsong.
by bluepencil
You do not know me. No one knows me. You and your kind will never even begin to understand the many things that I hold dear. I slink through the night, and peek at you from the shadows, and my voice will send a chill of fear down your spine.
My mate nuzzles my back, for it time to leave...the hunt is over and the prey has been cut off from the Circle of Life.
Good.
Learn well, human..for I will say this to you only once.
I am called Hrranhrr...which in your tounge would mean 'He whose fangs bite into the Night.' I was called thus, because I was born with strange fangs, sharp teeth that seemed to glow in the darkness. For some reason, I do my best if my Hunt is under the shadows of the sunless sky.
I was born into a pack. My sire, Uhuaauao, was the leader of the pack. My mother was Grrhi, and she was the Demon of the Wastes. Even my father dared not contradict her when she felt she was right. For she could fight like a berserker, and had won his favor by utterly beating several other bitches in an all-out match.
As such, my puppyhood was hard. I was not entirely expected to become the leader of the pack. It is solely an earned right, but my blood was of the strong, and even then, it was not something I wished. I spent my days prowling around the hunting grounds, occasionally stopping to kill one of those furry things you call rats. I was about their size, but I was much more agile, and had longer and more powerful jaws.
I loved the feel of a dying, squealing rat in my jaws. Even now, I stop to snack on those.
And it is this little personality quirk that changed my life.
One day, I was out hunting for rats again, and my mother had grown impatient with my constant wandering. She told my father sharply to look for me, and he complied. He growled at the members of the pack who laughed at seeing him with his tail hung low, and started to search.
I was out in the wasteland, taunting a mole rat. Fat, stupid mole rat..it tried hard to slash me with its pudgy claws, but always I sidestepped and bit it in the flank. I heard a low, menacing growl from behind me, and turned around sharply, letting the rat escape.
It was my father. He stood on a rocky knoll, looking disapprovingly at me from on high. He gave a throaty growl of disapproval and motioned me to head back to the den.
I gave a yelp, as his head suddenly exploded into a bloody gush.
I turned and saw what seemed to be spindly things that stood on two legs, with appendages that flapped around. Its body shone in the midday sun, it pointed at me with a silvery object.
I yelped again as the ground in front of me became a burnt hole.
I ran, ignoring the explosions that hit around me. A shot grazed my shoulder, causing a deep cut. As I ran, I could her the unmistakable sound of laughter. High-pitched and strange, but laughter nonetheless. Biting and harsh ite echoed in the hot noon air, a pack leader should have been led to the Great Beyond with howls of mournful defiance. We are part of a Great Circle of Life and Death, and we accept this... But instead, my noble father died a sudden ignominous death, not at the Hunt, as he would have preferred.
It was my first encounter with your kind, Outlander. Mayhaps I will kill now you in memory of one of the greatest leaders of the Pack?
No?
I will continue.
I arrived at the den breathlessly, and the pack didn't need words to know what had happened. They could see it in my ragged stance, in the horror in my eyes.
There was some dicussion on who shall lead, but in the end, the most fierce won. My mother led us East, to the far reaches of her birthland. We could not stay there no longer, as each day, we say Great Black Beasts shriek and fly in the sky overhead, ugly and wingless.
We traveled, the pack and I. Through the desert we slunk at night, and slept in holes we dug in the day. It was a hard journey, but we made it. We would go for days withour food or water, then suddenly come upon a brood of Mole Rats, or Geckoes, which we easily killed and filled our anxious bellies.
It was a hard life, yea, but in this life I grew. I soon outstripped all the other members of the pack in height and girth....and looked to be the alpha male.
But, as my mother said.....I was of good stock...but brains I had none....and she was right. She remained the leader...a fact of which we all concurred as best. She was born to be a leader, and had been only hampered temporarily by her gender.
The days grew chill, and our fur started to thicken, and our journey was nearly over. One night, we heard howling in the distance. The ears of the pack, and we restorted with our own howls, showing them who we are, how superior our number, and how foolish it was to try and cross us.
We traded howls for much of the early night, and as time went on, the howls were shorter, less distant. and from out of the shadow of a sand dune, stepped out another Wolfen Pack.
I slid into a ready stance instantly, and was puzzled because my pack did not do the same. Other packs meant rival, in either food or territory. We were well-fed, and ready...why do we not attack? Why do they loll around, treating this with all casuality?
What made this pack so special?
It wasn't until some of my aunts nuzzled up to male mebers of the other pack that I understood. This pack wasn't ut for either food or prestige..or teritorial gains. No...
It was a mating run.
I slunk away, as this was a matter I was most unfamiliar with. The entire pack was acting like silly puppies now, cavoriting in the moonlight. Only my mother seemed disaffected, for she was busy laughing at the several males kneeling by her feet.
I whimpered and padded off..
It was then that I saw...her...
She stood by a cactus clump, resplendent in the moonlight. It glinted off her almost sivery mane like the sunlight in a pool. Her body was taut, slim, and had the look of hidden strength. Her face was beautiful, her mussle sharp and pointing, her eyes the deepest violet, a rarity, I know... Her flank was solid and bore the signs of hunting practice...I moved down and peered at her wondeful rump from behind a
grass bush.
Shut up, female. You are flattered, I know of it. Do not try to act so embarrased.
Forgive my mate. she is such a prude with company. But, let her and I alone together...owoooo!
*growl*That had hurt. I'll stop. I'll stop. *whimper*
I approached her, even at least to know her name. I was suprised and taken aback, when she suddenly leapt at me with a growl and bit into my neck. I skittered away somewhat and let the hairs on my neck rise. My growl was more of curiousity than hostility, and I sniffed in her direction...trying to catch the scent of the brain-rot.
There was none. She snorted contemptously at me and went back to her post at the top of the small hill. I grinned wickedly, I saw her game..
Once again, I went downwind, and let my dark fur blend into the
darkness..
I sprang at her from behind, and caught off-guard, she and I tumbled down the slope to the sandy ground below. While I stood over her, victorious, I finally learned her name....it was Mirrha, she whose eyes pierce the night...
I had gotten us lost.
In the night-long tryst, we had romped all over the Wasteland, and ended up somewhere with a lot of trees, and no pack. I howled out into the sky, and I heard a sound from the distance, a reply. A plaintive call..for help!
We sprang running into the direction of the sound. As we neared the place, dust shireked and swirled around us. We dropped to the ground, and saw anothe one of those great screaming black flying beasts rise up from the ground and fly away.
It was simple the most horrid sight in my life, the memory of which will be etched into my mind for eternity. The blood, the blood, sickly-sweet was its scent in the air. My pack was scatered along the sandy ground, dead....and headless...
I caught the smell of burning, of metal...of _humans_........
I lifted my face up into the nighten air, and howled, expressing all my rage, my sadness..All my life, I had known only the pack, and now, they were taken from me..a an act that reeked of unfairness, of malice. I felt a snarl in my throat, and I let it out into the sky.
My mate joined me, and we filled the night with howlings of despair.
It was the day I pronounced vendetta on your kind.
Yea, we were scourge of the wastes, and many were the unsuspecting to fall into my jaws. You men think you are so smart...so invulnerable. And yet, even with those hard shells that you wear, you could not stand against me.
Fools.
Why do you leave the most important parts uncovered? Like your neck, for instance?
---------
The neuron stops here. What should I do with it? Should I turn the wolf into Dogmeat? Or have him meet Goris? Or something else entirely??
All comments are welcome, even flames.
http://uro.topcities.com/bpenbp.jpg
~cause anything less than total and utter overkill is a complete waste of time~
-it's the freakin' bluepencil!
~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^
