Saving Me From Myself {Typhoon & Open}

[♦€rida♦]

[bg=black][atrb=width,470,true][atrb=border,0,true] ((This was originally meant for Typhoon, but if any others want to bring their puppers in for a little bit and are prepared for bitchy Erida who will most likely chase them off or take a few swipes at them they're welcome lol)) Dainty paws pulled the lean fae over the greenery, now dotted with small blooms of wild flowers. Her face was twisted into something unsettling, a flash of ivory fangs ever present. Normally soft eyes were narrowed into slits shooting imaginary darts at an invisible adversary. Her sleek dove hued pelt held a darker stripe along her back as the hairs stood on end in apparent aggravation. Most would assume that a day like today would be one to be joyful about. The sky held no clouds, it was a clear baby blue hue dotted once with a bright, warm sun. The sun's rays reached across the land awakening the sleepy buds, urging them to stretch their petals and feel it's warm embrace. The scene was something out of a painting, the colors vivid, warm, and rich. There was a gentle, spring breeze playing over the ridge controlling the temperature, keeping it at a comfortable rate instead of the burning heat that was possible with the sun so visible. Yet today, more than most days, Erida felt like the bitch she was. It would be nearly impossible for her to take on her job of actress, as her entire soul constricted against itself, rubbing her mind the wrong way. Spring. It was a beauty in deception, quite like herself. Lengthy strides paused as she reached the darkened grass on a rocky outcrop. There in the shade of an ancient tree she lowered to her haunches, cropped auds plastering against her feminine skull. Although she seemed to be the most cold and heartless female in existence she had a responsibility to her pack, and today it meant that she had to stay away. Why torture the males who would simply leave her presence with their eyes gouged from their skulls with the cursed scent of spring? She could not afford to have injured members within her lands, nor could she afford to lose them. Here she would stay alone until her time had passed as it did every spring and every fall, as it did for every healthy female. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Word Count • 363 Whispers • ...

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[Scáth]

[bg=303030][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=border,0,true] 'Show me how to lie You’re getting better all the time And turning all against the one Is an art that’s hard to teach...' A tall, lean silhouette crested the steep gradient that was the Devil's Ridge. The short black-brindle coat was darkly decorated with scars, and the canine walked with a distinct limp. Sinister burgundy eyes settled on the Metnal alphess below; the permenant, ominous crooked grin worn by the dog's muzzle slowly widened. Scáth enjoyed Spring. Like many dogs, he enjoyed the warmth, the sunshine, and the promise of more prey. There was another reason many dogs enjoyed this time of year, too... The Dutch Shepherd mentally chuckled at the thought. Perhaps he was too self-restraining to acknowledge the instinctual call that many males were influenced by. Perhaps he was too psychopathic. Either way, Scáth never participated in the - somewhat degradatory - act of panting after every bitch during her time. The Metnal canine appeared exceptionally at ease even with the alluring scents occasionally drifting to his nostrils; his behaviour did not alter even slightly. As much as he enjoyed Spring, Scáth also enjoyed slipping off to do his own thing. His free time had been in short supply recently, as he'd tailed an ignorant newcomer and played his part in maintaining the mutt's naive views, which led him to the third thing he enjoyed. Pushing his luck. Now to dangerously combine these two, the Dutch Shepherd trotted down the ridge to casually intrude on his leader's private time. "Having fun, sunshine?" Scáth was particularly fond of taking risks, but he was not stupid. The black-brindle slowed to a halt out of attacking range, his tail waving knowingly. The Dutch Shepherd was well-aware of Erida's plan. He'd popped by for a visit for exactly that reason. 'There’s something in your way And now someone is gonna pay And if you can’t get what you want Well it’s all because of me...'

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[Typhoon]

[bg=black][atrb=width,400,true] Typhoon, still feeling it rather hard to make friends in this pack, was exceptionally pleased when he caught the stale trail of Erida heading out towards the cliffs they first met on. She was, in fact, the only canine in the group other than Tsunami whom he had had decent conversations with. Whom he felt as if a lasting friendship was blossoming along with the trees in the territory. He lumbered along in the general direction of the fae, figuring that with her lone scent lingering on the foliage meant it was lone for a reason. Typhoon walked slowly, without any real apparent objective. Hoping that it would give her the time she needed. He could have turned around and waited for her to come to him, but the strong pull on his heartstrings with her memory forced him to her now. His dark eyes scanned the ground around him. Trying to smell the roses, so to speak, ignoring the strange sensation in his chest that begged him to race towards her. Typhoon was aware of everything around him. The way the wet ground below him squished between his toes. The birds in the trees surrounding him making so much of a clatter with one another that you would assume they were all mental. The lush green grass that now engulfed the earth seemed to call out, wanting anyone to lay and roll in it. Everything stopped once he realized that he was closer to the fae than he originally thought. The oh so familiar scent that drove males crazy seemed to surround his body. And for a moment, nothing else mattered. He moved his body in a direct line to where the scent was coming from. His slow meaningless lumber changing to a quick prancing trot. Although as much as Typhoon was usually able to control himself in such situations, the deeper feelings he felt for the Queen made every bit of common sense flee from his existence. That is, until he caught a new scent. Erida was, in fact, not alone. And the one who joined her during this special time of the year was a male as well. Typhoon thought of the reaction he should have. Thought of the anger that should be welling up in his body. The violence that should be forcing his muscles to contract and shake. The images of himself running up to the pair and using his strength to push the other male into the distance. But unfortunately for Typhoon, this wasn't just a dominance and mating thing. He had been falling for the Queen and his silly love stricken mind, he had assumed the same had been true for her. Now the heartbreaking feeling washed over him as he thought that she had already had a mate. Someone that she loved. So deep in his own thoughts he didn't realize that he had stumbled upon the pair. His intent was to turn around before this happened. He looked back and forth at them before sucking in a shot of breath and sucking up his heartbreak then proceeded to trot up to them as if the thought never crossed his mind. He first directed his attention to the brute in front of him and nodded his head in his direction, a large smile creasing his face. "Hello." Then he turned and bowed his head deeply at the Queen, finding it hard to look her in the eyes, afraid of showing his pain and his smile softening. "Princess. My apologies for the intrusion. I didn't think that you may be...." Typhoon glanced in the brutes direction, still facing his Queen. "...busy." WC//605 Team//Erida & Scath OOC//Told ya I'd do it XD

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[♦€rida♦]

[bg=black][atrb=width,470,true][atrb=border,0,true] Tall receptors slowly edged their way forward, pulled by the nearly silent intrusion of paws upon the greenery that formed a carpet over the steep mountainside. The sweet aroma of fresh, spring grass that would often emerge as one's weight would press into the soft blades filled a red nose. Along with it the obnoxiously delightful fragrance of testosterone floated upon the warm breeze that danced about the tortured fae. The sneer that had begun to dissipate now found itself fresh upon her features, narrowed optics finding the intruder with ease. She had been well aware of who it was approaching before his words teased her auditories, "Having fun, sunshine?" It was unlikely that most other dogs would take such a risk as using sarcasm around the bitch now, even in Metnal. Perhaps this is why she was so secretly fond of the brute, yet why she wished to tear his throat at this very moment. Most would not have her mind flip flopping on which action to take with them. Any other who dared to ask such a moronic question would have been sent running back to the dens with their tail stuck between their legs like a whelp. A low growl was the simplest response one could receive, yet full of so much truth and meaning. As the deep sound rolled within her chest, bouncing wildly off of her protective encasing of ribs a blood hued muscle slipped from it's moist cavern dotting each side of her slender maw. The queen's crown lowered menacingly, her tongue now slipping over exposed ivory fangs. The actions could easily be taken as a huntress ready to disembowel their prey, or perhaps it was simply the annoyance with nature, and the self control she knew she had to keep if all were to go well. While her attention stayed focused upon the brindle shepherd before her a single, triangular soldier twisted toward the approaching sounds. It didn't take but a mere second for her to know what other fool was willing to risk themselves by tracing her to this spot, the familiar breathing pattern followed by the scent was enough to warn her. The bridge of her nose wrinkled, although it may be hard to tell if it were in aggravation of the interruption or the sheer disgust of the act she had to put on once more. It could have easily been a mixture of both given her current mood. The viciousness swiftly erased itself from her features, the soft facade pulling itself into outwardly view once more. A slow shift of her tail was managed, only a few left to right motions able to be forced to greet the newcomer. The infamous mark of interest that Erida had flooded her face, a single raised brow, the other dipped deeply surrounding two distinct wrinkles upon her forehead as she watched Typhoon closely. Her gaze followed his as he made note of Scath and being "busy". A giggle erupted from her as her neck craned toward the bowing Rottweiler, nudging him gently with her nose, "Oh, no no no...we are not busy at all, love." A sly smirk reached along her maw as she tilted her head, honey hued eyes finding the shepherd's features, "trust me, it's nothing of that nature," her words were nearly accusing yet laced with disgust. Surely, the warrior was more of her liking then most, however an opportunity to take an attempted jab at his ego would not be missed. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Word Count • 581 Whispers • ...

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[Scáth]

[bg=2D2D2D][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=border,0,true] 'Show me how to lie You’re getting better all the time And turning all against the one Is an art that’s hard to teach...' Scáth didn't bat an eyelid at the low, threatening rumble rose from his leader's chest. When Erida lowered her head and bared her teeth, automatically slipping into a stance that promised violence if the Dutch Shepherd didn't leave, Scáth merely cocked his head slightly and stood his ground, unfazed. This was a true dance with the Devil; an extremely bold act, to remain so close to fearsome jaws that might just lead to one's death. But the black-brindle was far stronger than he looked, and knew exactly how quickly he could dodge any ill-tempered lunges. There was a reason he was so unconcerned. After all, even the fiery Metnal leader would not impulsively attack a member of her pack. Erida had more self-control than that, and Scáth knew it. When a scent, familiar to both of them, grew stronger with the owner's approach, the Dutch Shepherd tilted his head in the direction of the newcomer. The scarred black-brindle knew Typhoon all too well; after all, he tailed the Rottweiller every day without the young mutt's knowledge. If Typhoon had ever set eyes on Scáth, he would only see what many saw. A scarred, creepy cripple. Too unreliable to carry out the simplest of tasks, and certainly useless for warrior duties. Being lazy and unpredictable was easy to act; being crippled, well... That was where Scáth's habitual limp came in handy. Ah, the convinience of deception. Scáth observed Erida's transformation with great amusement; his every-present crooked grin broadened, the lips curling up at the corners. Observing his leader as she operated under a facade so contradictory of her base nature was classic. The expression on the mutt's face as he looked from the Dutch Shepherd to the Dobermann, then adressed them, sent the situation rocketing up into first-class entertainment. On the inside, Scáth was in hysterics, and it was all he could do to keep his physical self from mirroring that and rolling around on the grass, laughing his head off. Fortunately, Scáth's self-restraint was more than sufficient to prevent such a lapse, which was extremely fortunate; Erida's expression in response to the Rottweiller's words was definitely memorable. The Dutch Shepherd's chest rumbled in a heavy chuckle at the thought of being 'busy', as Typhoon so put it, with the fearsome Metnal alphess who was so flawlessly maintaining her deceptively gentle role. Her honey-toned eyes met his own dark burgundy ones as she assured the naive mutt against such an assumption; Scáth did not miss the subtly accusing, slightly disgusted edge to his leader's voice and merely gave her a bold wink in response, uneffected by the strike towards his ego. The lean Metnal warrior sank back on his haunches, his burgundy eyes glinted with amusement, his head still tilted slightly to the side as he waited to see what would happen next. 'There’s something in your way And now someone is gonna pay And if you can’t get what you want Well it’s all because of me...'

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[Typhoon]

[bg=black][atrb=width,400,true] Looking the Shepard over, out of the corner of his eye, not looking directly at him, Typhoon struggled to find what was off about this canine. Eventually coming to the conclusion that with the way the Shepard held himself, he must be crippled in some form or another. It didn't surprise Typhoon that Erida would take in disabled dogs into her pack probably as eagerly as she would strong ones. She had quite the motherly intuition when it came to her beloved pack. He also wondered momentarily if this brute was mentally disabled as well. He didn't speak to Typhoon and only held a disturbing crooked grin stretched across his face. His attention instantly shifted back to the Princess when she started speaking. He heard everything she said, but it still took him quite a few moments before he could bring himself to speak in return. He couldn't take his eyes off her. Typhoon was indeed a sucker for beauty. He might even agree to himself that he was an even bigger sucker for the contradiction Erida offered. She was independent enough to start her own pack and care for it on her own after all this time, but she had seemed highly dependent on Typhoon since his arrival into the lands. When the moment arrived when Typhoon realized he had been staring at the Queen for some time, he smoothly made it appear as if it was exactly what he intended, his eyes narrowing on hers while his brows raised into a flirtatious expression, his dark brown eyes piercing hers, passionately. Typhoon always felt uncomfortable showing emotion around a third party, even emotion such as this. But he had made sure that the Shepard could not see his expressions, could not see the sudden rise of passion shooting through his oculars towards Erida. It was kind of exciting, Typhoon reckoned to himself as he lowered himself to his haunches. His voice showed none of this emotion. Calm, deep and collected, he finally broke the silence. A low chuckle rose from his chest, matching the Shepards. "Oh, well, pardon me then. I didn't mean to imply. Assumption can be a terrible thing, I should know better." The gaze on Erida vanished quickly as he turned his attention towards the Shepard, nodding. "Very pleased to meet your acquaintance. Most of the other members of the pack are still wary of me, I hope the same isn't true of you?" As he spoke to the Shepard, he quickly flexed his large muscles to validate the waryness of the pack, or at least this is the reasoning he believed there were problems. Shooting a glance at Erida, hoping she noticed the flex. For this is what all faes looked for in a brute, no? Being what he would call somewhat innocently sexist, he knew he made the perfect mate to any fae. A true protector of mind and body. Able to care for and please any female that could possibly cross his path. Of course, Typhoon understood this wasn't the case with all faes. But when the majority chased his type, one could only make the 'innocent' assumption, and the intelligent decision to go with the majority, at least when it came to situations like these. WC//540 Team//Erida & Scath OOC//...

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[♦€rida♦]

[bg=black][atrb=width,470,true][atrb=border,0,true] Erida was quite pleased with the arrival of the Rottweiler. Not only had she hoped that her assumptions were correct and he would follow her here, but he arrived just in time. If it were only a moment later it could have been possible that she would have lost her self-restraint. Typhoon could have arrived, barging in on the sensual tango that had been slowly flooding her mind and pushing her plans into the deepest corners of her intelligence. The silent reference to her previous fantasy as it casually passed in thought caused an overflow of hormone to scorch her veins. Almond shaped oculars narrowed in reaction, the gaze not dropping from the shepherd's sarcastic wink. The breath of the other male forcefully yanked at her attention away from the deceptive brute. The reminder of her plan stood before her when the fae's eyes met the seemingly desirous gaze of the large black mascu. It wasn't difficult for her to match the brooding pools of chocolate, simply finding the middle ground of the look previously offered to her warrior, which seemed half pure evil and half voracious lust. The middle ground equaled out closer to the flirtatious batting of lashes that occurs after one who is normally shy suddenly gains confidence in the name of ecstasy. Ok, so maybe the look was some place in the middle with a few detours taken. Romance and violent ecstasy, were they really so different? Normally they wouldn't be for the dark queen yet she would have to sacrifice this one season for the name of power. Now power, that was bliss to this bitch. The silence was most welcomed as it lingered. It seemed that most of the doberman's mind frame would agree that they enjoyed the unsettling feelings that silence gave most of weaker mind. Many of those like herself would agree that it was the best time to manipulate the mind of an innocent. Both brows suddenly shot skyward as her unknowing victim so casually brought his attention away from her and focused on the other brute. How frustrating. Perhaps he wasn't use to being rude like true Metnal members, or was he attempting a game of cat and mouse with her? The thought of it nearly made her lose focus and burst at her seams in laughter. A sidelong glance was offered to the temporary spy, light irises slipping to the corner of her eyes to keep watch upon him as movement began. Long, slender limbs slowly carried her frame closer to the newest arrival. A sly smirk playfully tugged at the corners of her maw as she noted the broad muscles rippling under his glistening ebony pelt. The princess rounded him finding his opposite side to settle by. It was lucky for the fae that evil and sensuality could easily be interchanged when subtle signs were offered such as looks, and smiles. This was by far the most difficult time for her to play off such foolish "nice" antics. She lowered herself to her haunches as the others had decided to do only moments earlier. She found a space so close to the large male that if she pushed any closer she would nearly be sitting on top of him. Large auds slowly angled backward assisting in the gentle facade she had been pulling off since his arrival. Pupils expanded and contracted as she silently shifted her gaze slightly above her to watch Typhoon's features in silence, the look of a fawning, amorous female. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Word Count • 610 Whispers • This is actually quite a comedy show for the three of these pups

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[Typhoon]

[bg=black][atrb=width,400,true] Although his pupils were entirely focused on the Shepard now in front of him, every other sense followed the movements of the fae. His folded lobe seemed to be in a dance with one another as he tried to keep one focused on the brute and the other on Erida, both continually changing their positions and individual. His nose twitched as he tried to suck in her scent, etch it into his brain. With each pull though his nostrils he could feel the saliva in his mouth building. When she finally rested next to his body, he swallowed the discharge in his mouth in a last ditch effort to prevent it from dribbling out all over his paws. The thought quickly crossed his mind that the swallow mixed with the hairs on his hide standing, reaching to the fae could give the wrong impression. And this time, he wasn't going to give the wrong impression. Typhoon had time to think back over their first meeting, and when he did, he nearly always wanted to kick himself. He had been the one to come off needy. Typhoon was not needy when it came to females. He took them as they came, however rare the occasion. In the past, Typhoon rarely had time to bother with such nonsense. But now, being in a pack that could handle the loads of work that he so often handled alone, he had the time to think. And he couldn't decide for himself if this was a good or bad thing. Thinking led to mistakes. Instinct always won. So, on his instinct, when the fae sat so close to him that he could feel the warmth of her body burrowing into his, he repositioned himself. Leaning not towards his lust, but away. Acting on instinct could occasionally lead to thinking if your instinct forces you to do something you didn't imagine to be possible. Typhoon knew what he wanted. And the quickest way to that was to throw gas on the fire. But he had leaned away, sucking oxygen from the flames. Being a bit confused with himself, he sighed heavily and forcefully out his snout, sending small bits of mucus headed for the ground below him. He turned his head in Eridas direction, giving her the opportunity to see the confusion on his face. Typhoon imagined that his actions mixed with the way he looked at her now could once again give her the wrong impression. But this was exactly what he was looking for. Reverting back to old habits was almost thrilling. The chase was on. But in typical Typhoon fashion when it came to faes, he wasn't the one that was going to be running. He had always had too many other things to worry about to deal with horny females. And now the situation was no different. Why did he lean away? Typhoon let the silence linger. Waiting for a response from the Shepard. Waiting on Erida to make her next move. Waiting for an answer to his question. If he had the chance to really think about why his instincts were pushing him away from her, he might leave the scent pulling his groins, leave Eridas side. Still facing her, his eyes slowly drifted from her body as his mind began to wander. WC//549 Team//Erida & Scath? OOC//... I guess we should leave it open enough for Scaths return, but I'm going to slowly etch him out so we can get on with it D:

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[♦€rida♦]

[bg=black][atrb=width,470,true][atrb=border,0,true] This situation was something the fae had not encountered in quite some time. Since taking these lands for herself most of the brutes she came across were very forward and overly pushy. The typical Metnal brute would have jumped on such an opportunity without hesitation, and not caring who was around to watch. Chances are there would have been blood shed by both parties, a vicious dance of lust that each enjoyed undoubtedly. For a split moment her optics narrowed in sheer hate when the muscular, warm frame pulled away from her contact. In that short time frame an entire scene of disembowelment found itself playing through her mind. Surely he was much stronger than she, yet she was swift and surely others of the pack would not miss the opportunity to spill his innards upon the devastatingly deceptive lands. As fast as the thought passed a facade was drawn upon her features. The pathetic site of emotional agony and humiliation soaked her canvas. Large auds now found themselves nearly drooping on either side of her skull, which lowered itself near to chest level. Optics rounded in mock pain, the pain of denial. If it were possible for a canine to do so tears would be welling within her eyes, spilling over in a rushing force. The sudden ejection from the Rottweiler's nares sent a shrill thought soaring through her, running the course of her spine. It took everything in the demoness' power to keep a smooth coat during the quick worry that her plan may be jeopardized. Did he know? Did he suspect her? What the hell was wrong with him? Wouldn't he have acted upon her now, most males would have. Did he actually use his mind more than that nagging instinct to procreate, to pass on ones blood? The questions clouded her gaze forcing her to retreat, for honey hued orbs to shift toward the greenery below as Typhoon managed to offer her what seemed to be a look of confusion. Confused...about what? If he should believe her story? Or was it something much simpler? Her gaze managed to slink toward the corner of her eyes, though her sulken expression did not change. A deep breath was pulled inward, spreading her sides and then contracting as she slowly allowed the carbon to escape from her maw. Composure was what she was attempting to gain with her form of meditation. This would be more difficult than she had assumed, yet wouldn't that make it so much more worth it in the end? It was her turn to play the feline. In a near whisper her broken voice slipped into the atmosphere, "I...I...I Apologize, Typhoon." With that her slender front limbs stretched forward, her chest lowering toward the soft earth. As her body made contact with the crisp grass below she shifted her attention to the horizon, an obviously forced half smile tugging at a single side of her maw, "I was mistaken. How silly of me to assume...." Her words trailed off as they floated upon the cool spring breeze as it danced off of the ocean waves. There was a fine line between needy and desperate in this sort of situation, and she refused to cross it. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Word Count • 571 Whispers • ...

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[Scáth]

'Show me how to lie,
You’re getting better all the time,
And turning all against the one
Is an art that’s hard to teach... '

Scáth cocked his head to the side, observing both his leader and the naive mutt that was his target with rising enjoyment. After the past few days of stalking and survaillance, this was five star entertainment. Erida's acting skills truly were admirable; she had the mutt eating out of her paw, utterly clueless, utterly infatuated.
His adoration was blatent, and the Metnal alphess masterfully manipulated it to her advantage, playing him like the professional she was.
The Dutch Shepherd had to hand it to the Dobermann; she had large reserves of patience for her brutal, visceral lifestyle.

"Oh, well, pardon me then. I didn't mean to imply. Assumption can be a terrible thing, I should know better."

The mutt finally ceased his 'subtle' stare of passion towards Erida to turn his attention back to the amused Dutch Shepherd. Scáth's face smoothly slid into a somewhat solemn, calm expression under the other canid's gaze.

"Very pleased to meet your acquaintance. Most of the other members of the pack are still wary of me, I hope the same isn't true of you?"[i/]
The scarred Shepherd Dog flicked an ear at Typhoon's words, and finally chose to answer.
"You're no tick in my fur, Ty. But you're right; assumption, by definition, can be a very terrible thing indeed..."
The black-brindle dog gave another deep, sinister chuckle; his crooked grin spread widely, knowingly, across his muzzle like a Chershire cat, and his dark burgundy irises slipped past the Rottweiller's bulk to Erida's own, honey-hued optics.
His words may only be seen as further evidence of his insanity by the naive male, but the reference would not be lost on the Metnal alphess. Scáth was treading on thin ice, most certainly... And he was relishing every second of it. His shadowed orbs had not missed the partly agressive, partly lustful look his leader had shot at him mere moments before, nor had they overlooked the sweetly-altered version offered to Typhoon; the Dutch Shepherd lounged back on his haunches, the only one perfectly at ease under the suffocating blanket of silence and awkwardness hanging over the trio.
Two's company, three's a crowd, after all... The only question was, who was truly the unwelcome male in the Metnal alphess' eyes?
Scáth watched his leader's deceptively attractive antics without an inkling of negativity towards the mutt whose attention she gave. Perhaps this form of apathy and sociopathic behaviour was not natural - certainly it was not normal for any male in his prime years - but the black-brindle canid had never been known to harbor feelings of envy, jealousy or possessiveness. At least, he never indicated through body language that such emotions existed within him. They'd long-since been buried and forgotten, unused and unneeded for his current lifestyle choice.
Therefore, Scath could sit back and fully appreciate the scene unfolding before him. Any other Metnal male would have felt uncomfortable, an outsider to the deliberate intimacy Erida had created between herself and Typhoon, but not he. Most males would have sensed that now was the best time to themselves scarce - and done so - but not old Scáth.
He sensed that his presence was intrusive... So the sadistic black-brindle cheerfully stayed where he was and grinned, tilting his head still further to the side.
"Now look what you've done, Ty. You've gone and hurt Sunshine's feelings."
His voice was dark, richly ironic and innocently cheerful; a perfect match with his expression.
"Then again, I did try to warn you both about assuming things..."

'There’s something in your way
And now someone is gonna pay,
And if you can’t get what you want
Well it’s all because of me...'

[Typhoon]

[bg=white][atrb=width,400,true] His thoughts barely had a chance to form in his mind before the voice of the Shepard cut everything short. It was a pleasing thing to hear another member of the pack speak to him finally, as if he belonged. A smile etched itself across Typhoons maw, creasing his face slightly. Feeling more relaxed, he allowed his posture to show this as he simply nodded in the Shepards direction as a reply. Typhoon had no problem accepting any canine or other into his life. He had never had the problem before at least. He would shake away the meaning of acquaintance and make it his own. In situations such as these, the Shepard near him would be considered a friend. An ally. Someone he would and could turn to the next moment for help, and it would be given. At least these are the type of dogs he was used to meeting previously. But for some reason or another, Typhoon couldn't shake the need to be cautious around this one. The way he held himself, the way he spoke, even the way this Shepard looked at him made Typhoons insides feel the need to quiver, a sickening feeling of just simply something wrong. Typhoon couldn't push it away, but he tried to ignore it, keeping the friendly face visible to all. Those thoughts racing through his mind were again quickly interrupted by a voice. And Typhoons head shot towards it. Erida. He had nearly forgotten she was there for those few seconds. His quiet, thoughtful expression slowly changing to a frown as he realized the pain he might have caused this pretty fae. And even more so when the Shepard reinforced it. It wasn't that he had forgotten the odd feeling he received when Erida sat near him, but the ideas on the black and brindle brute made them seem silly and completely unnecessary. Typhoons face changed into a playful pout as he nudged his princess with his body. "Don't be upset, dear. Just a lapse in judgement on my part, sweetheart." A smile broadened on his face, turning his attention once again back to the brute."I'm afraid I don't know your name, but you seem to know mine." WC//368 Team//Scath & Erida OOC//...Muse... it be lackin' D:

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[♦€rida♦]

[bg=black][atrb=width,470,true][atrb=border,0,true] The angelic hued demoness sat silently, her aerodynamic skull turned slightly away from the muscular male next to her. Light optics locked upon the shepherd, her temporary spy, from under furrowed brows. The shadows cast upon the liquid pools should have been taken as a warning. Her stomach twisted under the pressure...under the need to lunge for the throat of the intrusive brute that tip toed along that line of betrayal. The over-sized auds that had been laying back in her attempt to tug at the Rottweiler's heart strings stiffened in agitation. Each follicle along her hide shimmied the soft pelt into a prickly mess along her back. Slowly she was loosing her composure. The queen's intelligence and instincts in a crucial battle. It would seem odd for such a lovely creature to snap into a fit of rage and blood lust to the victim of her seductive antics. At least it would be odd for a leader to attack her own soldier for what would seem like nothing to the outsider. Her gaze gleamed through slits toward Scath as his words continued. His amusement began to eat at her very being threatening to cause her to ruin her very own plan. It was more than obvious to Erida that he knew exactly what he was doing and was enjoying every moment of it. The skin encasing her slender maw wrinkled, a slight flash of ivory fangs offered in warning to the shepherd dog although she had little doubt that he would ignore her all together. All she wanted to get this hideous act over with more so now then ever. Lust was slowly falling as one of the most important items to attend to as the taste of the Dutch brute's blood began to make her salivary glands work on overdrive. It was surprising that the liquid didn't begin to seep from her now tightly bound, pale lips. She had nearly forgotten about the large male that was so close until his nudge startled her. A low growl began to explode from the she-beast as their fur touched. The menacing sound rolled from her chest up her throat, vibrating in anger against clenched fangs. As fast as the sound of aggravation erupted her devilish stare softened, her nose swinging around toward Typhoon apologetically. Small tan brows rose in innocence, the orbs below following his question to the shepherd. It was a dangerous situation. If her plan was foiled somebody would pay through a tortuousness death. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Word Count • 434 Whispers • Sorry I suck lol first post in a while

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[Scáth]

[bg=303030][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=border,0,true] 'Show me how to lie You’re getting better all the time And turning all against the one Is an art that’s hard to teach...' The mutt was oblivious to the double-meaning in the Dutch Shepherd's words.Blissfully ignorant, he smiled and nodded in Scáth's direction, under the impression that they were packmates; under the naive illusion that the black-brindle canine was a potential future friend. A laughable thought - Scáth had no friends, and he was wise enough not to aqquaint himself too closely with any of his alphess' victims. Just as he held no sense of duty to the majority of his fellow Metnal members, Scáth would not feel compelled to lift a paw to help the young dog before him. Naive and gullible as he was, perhaps the lovestruck mutt was subconsciously aware of this, for Scáth could sense that Typhoon was more than merely uncomfortable around him. Not bad, mutt... Picking up something a little 'off' about me?... The Dutch Shepherd did not miss the venemous, homicidal glare his leader was giving him. Scath truly was treading on very thin ice here, and Erida wasn't very tolerant of such boldness. Her brow furrowed, her eyes shadowed over, her ears stiffened, and her pelt bristled as her baser nature of agitation and aggression began to overtake her facade of sweetness and innocence. The Dutch Shepherd watched with enjoyment as Typhoon turned back to Erida upon hearing her voice, apologising with a decidedly idiotic lovey-dovey expression. The low, rumbling growl that came as Erida's oh-so-perfect composure slipped slightly made the scarred black-brindle want to burst out laughing once again. He restrained himself to a dark, amused chuckle instead, eying the Metnal queen appraisingly as she attempted to act her way out of her mistake. ..That's because I'm the only one here who's not pretending. "I'm afraid I don't know your name, but you seem to know mine." Scáth flicked an ear in acknowledgment of the Rottweiller's question, his burgundy orbs glinting with amusement, his muscles utterly relaxed despite the rising tension and unspoken death-threats sent his way by a certain Metnal alphess. "Freak, Stalker, Cripple, Mutt.... Take your pick." He listed the insults - ones that were aimed at him on an almost-daily basis - in a humorous growl, still grinning crookedly. The Dutch Shepherd was really enjoying playing with the Rottweiler, teasing him and slipping him ambiguous statements laced with dark hints about the situation at paw. "It doesn't really matter what you call me; I probably won't respond, anyway, as our dear Sunshine here will tell you." 'There’s something in your way And now someone is gonna pay And if you can’t get what you want Well it’s all because of me...'

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[Typhoon]

[bg=white][atrb=width,400,true] Everything happening around him made a deep, gurgling uncomfortable feeling rise from the pit of his stomach. Watching Eridas reactions to the brindled Shepard brought upon more assumptions. Perhaps he was right, the feeling the mutt gave him. Something was indeed wrong but this was something that seemed to be between the two other pack members. Another assumption. Soon, those assumptions would get the better of him. Typhoon cleared his throat in a attempt to distract the annoyed gaze that radiated from the queens eyes directly at the smaller canine. There would be no bloodshed if had any say in the matter, especially from his fae. He would need to get rid of their problem, sooner rather than later. One short, thoughtful laugh cluttered around in his throat before throwing a stern gaze at the brindled canine. One that clashed with the friendly smile etched across his maw. "Well then, Stalker, I'm sure we will have plenty of time to catch up with one another. For now, I would quite like a moment to speak with the Queen alone if you don't mind? His dark eyes shifted towards the slim Doberman, transforming to a softer gaze. His eyes locked with hers as he finished his statement. "I have some things I would like to discuss with her." His stare continued for moments too long before adjusting his attention back towards the male, a quick wink and smirk combination given more as a jest at the crippled canine rather than with him. WC// 248 Team//Scath & Erida OOC//Sorry, been a while for me too...D: ... And sorry Scath, gotta get on with it XD... literally... -.-

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[♦€rida♦]

[bg=black][atrb=width,470,true][atrb=border,0,true] It seemed that the thickness in the atmosphere had grown to an almost unbearable, suffocating strength. The tensions had taken on a whole new meaning from lust, to plot, to daydreams of murder. It had seemed that the pathetically sweet Rottweiler had finally came to understand that the crippled shepherd was not one he would want in his presence. A half smile formed upon her maw as their eyes met, half in apology for her behavior, or so it would seem. She silently watched as a serious glare was offered to the brindled canine amusement glistening upon her honey-hued irises once again. Gravity was allowed to push at narrow hips forcing the doberman's weight to shift back toward Typhoon's thicker frame. How easily the demoness' mood could change, as simple as flipping to the next page of this book filled with deception, horror, and comedy. The threats displayed almost moments earlier were wiped clear from her canvas, anticipation and mockery now painting a new image. How nice of the large brute to have an obvious plan to stick up for her against the "enemy". To protect her mentally from the insane canine sitting only feet from the pair of fictitious love birds who seemingly melted into one another in a mismatched blanket of black and dove hued threads. Little did he know that he could almost consider the fellow male an ally. If he only would listen closely to his words. If only he weren't so naive about the situation unraveling right before his eyes. If only he knew that he was about to dance with the true enemy. The dance that would change his outlook on life, the dance that could possibly be the death of him, the dance that would rip his heart from it's bony enclosure allowing the demoness to taste true success. Though he was being deceived by the very canine he would now stand for, the largest deluder of all was emotion. Erida's own pools washed toward the warrior before her, following the gaze of Typhoon. Her chiseled skull bobbed ever so slightly, as a single shade dropped and rose in the form of a wink. A wink to prove all was well and this was what had to happen for success. A simple motion to allow the plan to move forward, a plan to strengthen their pack. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Word Count • 409 Whispers • ...

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