Locul întuneric

The Locul întuneric -Romanian for 'Dark Place'- is where the pack rests. It is surrounded with trees, it even seems as if a veil of darkness blanketed the trees. This would be where we sleep, stay, and eat.

--------

The forest was dark. Codex walked through, his eyes dashing from side to side at every sound. It was unsettling how dark it was; how it seemed as if an evilness somewhere had silenced the place. In a usual forest, you could here the faint chirp of birds in the trees, the clip-clop of hooves on the ground, the trickle of streams, and the smell of holly and fur. This forest was different. The birds seemed to be scared off by the death of this place, the elk all hunted, the streams dried and the plants dead. Splotches of sunlight were covered with an eerie light coming through the thick coverage, sending a chill down his spine.

Suddenly, its as if he heard something. As if someone was following him. Turning his head, he didn't see anything, as he began to speed up his pace. The pawsteps became faster and closer. He broke into a lope. Soon, the pawsteps matched his pace and became closer, as he began to run. His guard hairs stood as the thundering of paws came even closer. He thundered across the forest, dodging every tree, bush and twig. Until suddenly he stopped, panting hard and realizing it was in his head, he sat down to catch his breath.

Sitting down, the brute's ears stood erect upon his skull, listening for the pawsteps which had haunted him so. The smell of wolf had drifted into his wet nose, sending another chill up his spine. The forest was unsettling, though it felt like something inside was keeping him there.... Forcing him to stay in the Dark Place. The pine needles on the ground stuck upward, poking his pads painfully while his icy-blue eyes dashed from side to side warily. He knew he wasn't alone. He soon worked out that the pawsteps weren't his imagination, they were too real, too loud.

The question was; where would he sleep? How would he survive on such a small diet? Even small things like rodents could barely be found. He had only heard a tiny scuttling once here, which the blanket of death most likely killed. He had a feeling, though, that there was prey here. That he could sustain himself. Getting up off the ground, cautiously he lifted his nose to the air and took in a deep breath. The tiniest scent of vole was there. Well, better than nothing.

The brujo slowly approached the scent of vole, closing in on it. Soon the rodent was visible, nibbling on an over-ripe berry from a nearby bush. Wriggling his haunches he launched himself out, his paw landing on the vole and killing it on impact. Better than nothing. Lifting his paw to the bloody pulp he'd smashed, he lapped it up, savoring every piece of meat in it.

Though another scent caught his nose. A wolf. Could it be? The wolf who'd been following him? Cautiously he called out into the darkness, "Hello?" He hoped to get an answer. He wanted to see one of the wolves who were social, one of the wolves who was just as confused as he was. Not a wolf who was used to this place, who was sly and sneaky.

"I'm here," The beast called. He wasn't alone! He wasn't alone in the complete darkness! This wolf was hopefully not hostile, he didn't much care for those who were. (I couldn't think of anything. I will think of a much better post later XD)

Relieved by the sound of his pawsteps nearing, his shoulders slumped in relaxation that he wasn't alone. "Hello," He greeted with a smile. He felt better now that someone was here to face the darkness with him. He scanned the wolf; a burnt orange color, a sort of dimmed amber with smears of white and gray along his pelt, with bright emerald eyes.

Andra's black back furs stood up as she said lowly, almost growling, "why does my name concern you?"

His ears flicked at the sound of a snarl. Looking over, his bright blue eyes made out a white-and-black wolf with similar colored optics. Puffing out his chest, he stepped forward and decided to take control of the situation. "There is no need to get hostile. We are just as confused on where we are as you." He said. Codex's voice was level, not cold and not gentle. If he had to, something called him to assert his dominance if it came to it.

(WELL GUESS WHAT. I JUUUUDGE >D)

Codex, upon waiting a response, looked over at the aging wolf. "May I have your name?" He asked. Two new faces, one hostile one kind. Would he encounter another? He was simply curious to see what lie ahead.

"Codex, is my name. Pleasure to meet you, Cernealo." Retorted the demon.

The brute thought of the reason why he ended up here... "Honestly, I've been lost for days. I have no idea where I am...." Looking around, something escaped his lips as he mumbled, "Locul întuneric" He had learned Romanian from his short stay in Rome, learning to socialize with others.

(Random Romanian speaking wolf.)

Dark paws were quiet as they hit the ground in a steady rhythm. Pine needles sent little pin pricks through the fae's nervous system but for the most part, they were ignored. Her pads were rough from walking constantly on stone because she was born in the mountains. Now, she was searching for a place to call her own, one that she would be able to find where she truly belonged. Maybe even take a mate for herself and settle down. However, such an idea was far fetched in the young she-wolf's mind for she was not quite three years of age. To settle down now wasn't something she wanted yet. She'd rather experience as much of the world as possible before looking for love.

Amaya's dark green-yellow eyes were keen as she watched her surroundings. She was in a forest, one that was covered in a deep darkness. This was a huge change when she compared it to her previous home on the mountains. There, the land was open and everything could be seen from a great distance. Here, it was too dark and murky to make out anything beyond her own muzzle. That was an exaggeration of course, but to a wolf born on a mountain side, that's what it was like.

She heard voices ahead of her; she quietly and quickly slunk towards a leafy bush. Three wolves were gathered together and she allowed herself to stay hidden for a moment as she listened to the conversation. The two males seemed nice and polite enough but the female seemed a little hot-headed. Her paws tingled as she continued to spectate. This could be her new home! Taking a breath, the she-wolf backed up and stood before making her way around the bushes. Amaya cleared her throat loudly to annouce her presense.

Suddenly, a sound caught his attention away from the aging wolf. Turning his head he caught site of an ebony female. By the looks of it, a two year old, just like him. He nodded to the she and said respectfully, "Greetings. Who might you be?" He asked. Sitting down upon his haunches, awaiting response, his fiery orange tail curled around his sun-gold paws.

"Greetings. Who might you be?"

Amaya only hesitated for the briefest of moments. She had not thought of being addressed so soon; she was caught off guard for a moment. Being used to the quiet, it was strange to hear the voice of another, one that was made of flesh and bone like she and not the figments of her imagination that lingered. Her long plume rested against the back of her legs; she made no moment of being submissive nor dominant.

"Amaya." Her voice echoed against the bark and back into her ears. Was it always like this? Her coal coloured ears flattened against her skull slightly, she didn't like it.