wolf in sheeps clothing \\// joining

[deimos]

[align=center][align=center][div style="width: 45%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 0px; font-family: times new roman; color: black;"]He wasn't dead.

Glowering red eyes, set and glowering through the bone mask flickered dully. He wasn't dead, his shiny black ass wasn't dead. The monster of a wolf rolled to his stomach, groaning. He licked his fangs, growling as he pushed himself to his paws, shaking sand from his pelt. Rotten bitch, Deldrach was. She had tried to kill him- but something in her stopped her. Primus figured that he would be better off dead, honestly. For both himself and Deldrach. A delightful look crossed his cold, bone masked face as he stretched. Blood dripped down his fur as he started walking.

The desert burned his paws, his striking red talons digging into the dirt. The bone mask on his head was snug, but only proved to make the trip more grueling. Somehow, in some backwards fashion, he seemed almost joyous that it burned him, that it made him hot and dehydrated. The bloodstained killer was left for dead- and despite the Warmonger Queen's best hopes, he was still alive. His eyes glowered, the dull flickering gone, replaced with bright, creeping eyes.

He had made it to the jungle.

His gaze swept over it, tail low behind him, the pointed bone tail tip glimmering dully in the sun. He wondered if anyone was at home, or if he was going to be left, disappointed, yet again. It was truly a shame that Deldrach had just left him instead of ramming that damned sword through his heart. Primus growled softly again, but not.. in hate, or anger- but in lust.

speech

[teef]

RAMONA LINGRÉ

✯ — THE GROWN UPS TAUGHT ME TO WATCH AND LEARN

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a hellish hound. a sight from home. answering his growl came a quieter echo as a younger half breed wolf mix emerged from the dense foliage of the jungle, eyes alight with a cautionary hunger. ears pricked, she approached without rushing, her eyes darting over the male, taking in his appearance.

letting herself draw in his scent, she knew he was not of the hells that her family had come from. he had blood on him, and he smelt of exertion. it wouldn't be too far to call him a cousin. since the basic DNA code between dog and wild had long been in existence, just deeply mutated. alas, she would still be able to address him this way.

"cousin, what brings you to this burning jungle? if you have come seeking aid for your injuries, I fear it may be a while before you are properly looked at." she had grown, surely her adopted father would recognize that, and so, she was not scared of approaching strangers on the borders.

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✯ — FEMALE. UNKNOWN. WEAK. REF. BIO. — ✯

#psychosocial.

[ARGUS]

The scent of rot was a familiar one. Sickening cloying the senses that reminded them of the destruction left in their wake. Monkey cages filled with prisoners and the lion den holding the animate tool for their destruction. Iron clad- war bound creature - kitsune with fire in their eyes but never in their paws. Too young-

Argus shakes their head, from the few instances of lurking in the jungle, they didn't expect such a smell- without the similar common stench of death. It piqued curiosity, and a certain sense of dread. Katastre had been long dead for them- years without the fox's snarl ringing in the back of their mind, but they follow alone dutifully, as a member of the pitt, if anything else to rip the stranger in two.

Dull red met the brilliant red of the rotting, dying thing at their borders. A low hum cut off - ears twisting towards the other member of their group dressing the stranger. They don't make much comment until Romano says their piece, the white lupine slinging into the conversation and view both; "Don't think there is any healing to the dead, we could try but our medic ain't much of a miracle worker."

[deimos]

[align=center][align=center][div style="width: 45%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 0px; font-family: times new roman; color: black;"]Words rang out in his ears. Blood reds focused on a hellhound, the scent barely recognizable through the thick of the blood coating him. He looked at her as she spoke, dragging his talons awkwardly in the sand. This would be a rough environment to attune to, he supposed. "Worry not for my injuries." He spoke, dragging his tongue along his teeth. Cousin? He supposed he wouldn't let it catch him off guard. "I come for shelter." He spoke again. The second one that approached seemed to be fairly mistaken.

Dead? Nay, he was not dead. He wasn't rotting, but his injuries were starting to get infected. He could treat himself, be it needed. It wasn't easy, either. His first impressions of Argus led him to believe, totally, that he was very thick-headed. "I know not what you refer to. I'm not dead." The rise and fall of the beasts chest was enough to convince Primus himself that he wasn't dead. His ears twitched, however. "There is a medic, though?" He seemed almost hopeful, but with the twisted strange grin on his lips it couldn't be hope.

Maybe Primus would eat them. Seems like a good dinner.

"Ah, I forget my manners. Primus, and I'm here to join what you call home." He raised a taloned paw, flicking it towards the place they originated from, whether it be their camp or just a tunnel from there.

speech

[teef]

RAMONA LINGRÉ

✯ — THE GROWN UPS TAUGHT ME TO WATCH AND LEARN

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falling silent, she flicked her tail in argus' direction, greeting the other as her gaze turned back to the fellow standing there. flicking her ears, she tipped her head for a moment, "you make little sense.", she laughed softly before her tail wagged slowly, "we have one with medical training, slight it may be. most of us know some basic injury cleansing, primus. my name is ramona, but you may call me ram. this is argus.", again she spoke, indicating the other.

"you come for shelter. I accept you in, but our leader makes the final decision on who stays here and who must leave.", she murmurs, muzzle wrinkling at the thought of the vulpine tyrant that led the group she called home. "if you follow one of us in, we can get you moderately settled with minimal tending."

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✯ — FEMALE. UNKNOWN. WEAK. REF. BIO. — ✯

#psychosocial.