Hunt of the Wicked

[Kestrel Enyo]

Screams, oh, the screams. A shiver rippled down the spine of a young, small woman who tred a slow and deliberate path through the wrecked ruins of what use to be a beautiful park. The cobblestones glinted in the light above, stained red with the blood of her prey for it was Enyo who ruled this park. Her pack was strong, the strongest in the area and they ruled this enormous territory by instilling fear and inflicting pain in all who crossed them. Now she was hunting, although she didn't seem to be, each step bringing her closer to the man who she sought out. From what she heard he had escaped from the pens a short while ago, made it this far on foot and she had been sent out to retrieve him. Oh, they knew how she liked to torture the humans, rip their lungs from their chests with her teeth, lap up the blood as it pulsed through their punctured throat. There had been no specific order given, she didn't have to bring him back alive.

She saw him ahead of her, blinking long blackened lashes she moved forward slowly, hands in front of her as he spun upon her with wide open eyes, “Get back!” He exclaimed as he waved a stick at her. His hair was greasy and black, his face covered in mud and the blood of the guard who he'd taken down in his escape. He was wearing the cuff of a shackle on his right wrist where blood was caked as well, “Get back I said!” He warned.

“Woah, woah, hold on, I'm only here to help you. I'm on your side.” She showed him both bare hands so he knew she wasn't holding a weapon. She stopped a few feet away, “Did you come form the pens of the Horde?” She asked him, eyes looking at the shackle on his wrist. He nodded and she took another step forward, “How did you escape?” She asked quietly. Oh, she was a master con artist this woman, she could be whatever she needed to be in order to win over the people she communicated with.

“I-I killed a guard, how the hell do you think I escaped?” He muttered, his tone growing into a snapping tone near the end.

“You killed a guard.” She repeated aloud, taking another step forward she brushed back some black hair behind her ear. His eyes were crazed, he wasn't in his right mind and he was far, far bigger than she was at a little over six feet.

He nodded again, and something in his eyes seemed to light up, as if an idea just struck him. They were in the middle of a park, without a soul near them, she was a woman- a small weak woman – and he had been stuck in a pen with only men for a little over three months. The look was of lust as he now moved toward her, slowly at first before he moved with rather quick speed and grabbed onto her wrist, shoving her against a tree. Forcing his body on hers he began fumbling with his pants.

“Woah big boy, coming on a little rough don't you think?” She questioned as she pushed at his chest, though he was far stronger than she was – or so it seemed. “Get off me.” She stated, though her tone sounded almost bored. He reached for her pants, his big bear paws fumbling here and there so caught up in his lust he very nearly missed the low growl that bubbled behind him.

Looking up at the girl he was pinning, his eyes got wide, he had heard that sound before. The fear in his eyes was delicious, leaning forward she stood on her tiptoes, lips brushing his cheek and then his earlobe. Eyes stared up at the sky she whispered a single word: “Run.” By then it was all too late. Really, when he set eyes on her he was doomed though now the deal was sealed. As he spun around at least seven pairs of glinting eyes stared back, all illuminated by the glowing sun above them. Pelts of varying colours shifted over tense, rolling muscle as a silver coloured male moved forward. That was enough. Turning the man booked it and began weaving through the trees and shrubs within the park, following a trail and then delving off into the wilderness, “Go back, I'll handle this one.” She stated. The silver male eyed her, nodded, and then turned tail and loped off in the other direction with the others following his lead.

A light laugh sounded form the woman as she lifted her hands above her head and stretched, flickering eyes seemed to nearly glow with glee as she leaped forward. When she was back on the ground she was just under four feet taller at the shoulder, a pelt of honey, caramel, snow, coal dust and coffee rippled over large thick muscle as she loped forward the smell of the man only too easy to follow. His blood was like a giant neon sign, as huge paws pressed into the ground she moved leisurely. This was going to be a delicious hunt.

[Michael Morning]

"You are no longer a member of this pack. You have no claim to our heritage. You are no longer a wolf. Let it be known that the Silver Fang has been lost. You are now nothing. A Bone Gnawer; a rabid wolf. Wander your last days in the wasteland and never return. For should you, this pack and all it's allies will hunt you down and destroy you without hesitation or mercy."

The words of his father, alpha of the Kulich pack, awoke him form his nightmares every day.

Isolation is the greatest enemy of the wolf. They are creatures of a pack nature, and to be without a pack is to be condemned to death. Most die within a year, killed by another predator, or even another pack. Those who survive that first year learn that there can be no boundaries or rules of engagement if they intend to continue alone. For an exile like the Bone Gnawer, this meant that he had to abandon his honour. Descended from the great Fenrir Wolf who took the hand of Tyr, honour was the lifeblood of the wolf. But to survive ten long years of solitude, that life was left behind on the day his pack banished him to the wastelands. To the rest of the Hell Hound packs, he was a rabid wolf, below even the humans. A Bone Gnawer; devourer of wolf flesh.

Ten years.

After ten years the greatest enemy is not starvation or even another predatory. No, after that long, one has learned how to survive. After that long, survival of the fittest is the driving force. The greatest enemy, is sanity. Isolation tries relentlessly to strip you of that. But the Bone Gnawer was determined to survive even that. He had lived out in the wastes for a decade on his own, and he would not alow himself to become the rabid, insane wolf that his packmates had claimed he was.

The time to return had come. He would risk death if his pack discovered him. But he would not risk his sanity to remain in the wastes. Today, he would rejoin the world. Nothing else mattered as he looked out over the horizon to see the silhouette of the Empire of the Horde growing behind the forest that was once his home. He could only hope that his alpha had passed away now and that the new leaders of the different Hell Hound packs would not remember him. "It doesn't matter what happens," he growled to himself in the tongue of the beast. "Let the others take my life. I want my honour back."

Choosing his path carefully, the lightly colour wolf skirted the edges of the great northern forest that was Central Park. He kept close to the jagged rocks and fallen trees of the wastes. The sun was high, shining through the canopy and her light illuminated the bleach blonde coat of the Bone Gnawer. The Bone Gnawer came to a sudden stop just behind the remains of a fallen tree.

His nostrils flared with the scent of copper. The scent of blood, fresh blood by the strength of it. Slowly, the wolf picked his route through the forest and perched himself on a high rock that looked down over the bloody scene of a massacre. Erring on caution, the wolf made a wide arch around the area. His path pushed him further south but at least it was far out of the way of any trouble. Or so he had thought. A few minutes travel and his ears picked up the heavy and fast pounding of feet. Running. Closer. The frightened human burst through the brush and straight into the massive blonde wolf with his coat stained with blood and his over-sized claws dirty with the flesh of fallen foes.

The human brandished a sad weapon in the form of a stick and swung it widely at the Bone Gnawer. he kept looking behind him for some sign of whatevr had chansed him this way, and each glance back offered the Bone Gnawer a step closer to the human. A low growl rumbling through his throat and escaped his lips in a sharp bark that sent the human several panicked steps back.

[Kestrel Enyo]

The man was terrified- he was only human after all- he didn't carry the sense or brains of one of those higher up species like the wolves. With each swing he took at the blond wolf, his hope was fading fast and his chances of survival were growing slimmer; Even he understood he wouldn't make it out alive. It was stuck in his mind somehow though that he would be able to take down a wolf, his last great action. Swinging again the stick hit a nearby tree, cracking in half he was left with seven or so inches of twig that wouldn't do a single thing to the massive beast before him. His mind caught a second- spinning around he set eyes on a golden brown blur and gasped sharply as the beast came into full view.

It was easy enough tracking the man, his blood was a marker, as was his sweat and his scent. If Enyo didn't know better, she'd swear she was part bloodhound with all that she could pick up with that beautiful muzzle of hers. This is all leading up to the fact that she smelled the Fenrir Get a mile back and picked up her pace when she found him on her trail, and in her territory.

It didn't take long until the massive golden goddess was bearing down on the blond beast, her hackles raised as was her tail as she snarled. Fangs of ivory glinted in the sunlight as her tail pivoted away from her body and nearly stood straight like an arrow, pointing to the sky. This was her territory, now GTFO if you please. She wouldn't ask twice and as a deep rumble vibrated through her vocals she turned her attention to her human meal who was standing stalk still between the two huge creatures. Lunging forward she didn't give the man time to react as her jaws snapped down on his midsection, blood seeping around her muzzle and staining the light fur there. He began to scream, the noise growing louder as she lifted him into the air, shaking his living body like a rag doll. Her fangs didn't puncture too deep, just tight enough to break the skin and hold on. After a few more shakes he was whimpering, far too quiet for her liking. Placing him down on the ground she put one massive paw on his abdomen to keep him down before latching onto his leg and pulling, while pushing with her planted paw.

The screams were delicious, they filled her ears and she showed her pleasure in the noise by wagging her tail slowly left and right while still pulling on the live meat. It was almost as if she'd forgotten that the blond wolf was there- no, she hadn't. He still had time to turn tail and leave, he would only become a further annoyance if he stayed and Enyo didn't like to be bothered while playing with her food.

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[Michael Morning]

The human screamed as he was devoured, but his pleas fell on silent ears. The Bone Gnawer was more concerned with the golden brown loup-garou and her obvious display of territoriality. She was large and powerful and by her claim of the kill, clearly an important wolf. he did not recognize her and she did not seem to know him on sight - that was a good sign. But he had to be wary. this was Hell hound territory and the Bone Gnawer was exiled from these woods. But that was a decade ago.

The smell of the human meat caused his mouth to salivate. She had clearly marked him as hers and had even tried to drive him off. he was not welcomed but he was so very hungry. Prey out in the wastes was hard to come by and most of the time a lone wolf was reduced to scavenging as opposed to hunting. This was meat, fresh meat and the Beast within was uncoiled within the chest of the Bone Gnawer. He wanted to eat. He HAD to eat. The growl he let loose at the she-wolf was out before he could stop it. Now he was hungry, angry and afraid. When the Beast was set lose he often lost his control. And if she would not let him have the meat of the kill, the Beast would happily have her.

The very thought nearly threw him into a frenzy. But the Bone Gnawer, no Michael, refused to reduce himself to that rabid creature. A few steps back wards until he was safely out of range of the golden brown she-wolf and Michael turned into the thick of the forest, moving quickly out of the immediate area of the kill. He had survived ten years alone, he would survive tonight as well. If he had to, he would return to the kill later and take any scraps that she had passed over.

[Kestrel Enyo]

Blood dripped down her maw, spiking the fur of her creamy chin like gel though far more dark. The man had stopped screaming a short while back, though he'd lived through the massive female ripping into his intestines. The depressing thing about humans was their stamina, they never lived in too long through the meal for their minds had a very irritating defence mechanism which allowed them to black out when confronted by too much trauma. She hadn't even been hungry, she was just munching on the liver of the prisoner to hear his screams of pain, the burning and searing of her teeth ripping into his flesh- after a while he just couldn't stand it any longer and blacked out, by then she was bored with him.

Just about the time the man blacked out the great blond wolf before her snarled, ears rotating sideways – a sign of canine aggression – she lifted up onto all fours and snarled back. Blue eyes glinted in the sunlight as she easily leaped over the body of the man and snapped at the ankles of the retreating Fenrir Get. She did not know of his exile from the pack lands, to her he was just some mangy Wild One who had no pack of his own. She wanted him out, as far away as he could possibly get for she didn't want him spreading fleas to herself and her pack. Who knew what sicknesses he carried with him through his travels as he scavenged on other wolves kills and long decomposed bug infested bodies?

As he turned tail she arched up and tilted her muzzle to the sky, a long howl was given, calling her pack to come and protect her kill- then she darted after the smaller male. She was both massive for a female and massive for a wolf in general, as she moved between the trees she was the picture of grace and agility despite her size. Tracking down the male she charged at him, teeth at his ankles and hindquarters once more to get him further form her territory. Would he really challenge her? The main official of the Hell Hound packs? It wouldn't be a good idea. He was already on her bad side as he talked back to her during her playtime with her human toy, she might not let him leave the territory alive. Who knew?

[Michael Morning]

The she-wolf was giving chase. That was all he needed. Her jaws were snapping at his hind-quarters driving him further away and the Bone Gnawer was still trying to fight off the frenzy of the Beast within him. He had heard the call of her howl and knew her pack would be nearby. That was just great. She was big enough and now she had back up. He hated to run and the Beast hated it even more, but the Bone Gnawer understood survival all too well. He was being driving out again, driven into the wastelands of loneliness and that thought burned against his pride.

When she snapped this time he ducked quickly to the side, straight into a large tree. Using his momentum, the Bone Gnawer pushed himself against the trunk and back toward his attacker in a low roll. It left him exposed, he knew that, but he also knew that they were both running so fast that neither of them would be able to avoid the collision. As his large body rolled toward her, Michael reached down inside himself, inside the Beast and uncoiled the gift that was his birthright. His muscles shifted, bones, grew, dislocated, and reattached in seconds as his body began to shift into the large form of the werewolf.

[Kestrel Enyo]

Enyo was not a happy camper, though it was thrilling chasing the mangy wolf out of her area. Her territory was vast and expansive, it would take ages for him to be all the way out though if needed to chase him to the border then she'd do so. She didn't want him here, something of his body language said he could be crazed or at least that he was disgraced in some way which did not appeal to the haughty, proud female. She wouldn't allow such a low energy beast reside in her pack land, if she just let others hunt in her lands then her prestige would go down. How could she demand respect from all those lower than herself when she allowed such a monstrosity to roam her territory- the idea in itself disgusted her and a shiver rippled down through her glorious coat though it went unnoticed as wind whipped at her with every long stride she took.

Still snapping at his flesh and fur she growled lowly at her, rage infested vocalizations rumbled through her. Once he was out he would stay out or else she'd hunt him down and rip out his throat herself, bury it in her graveyard of bones and relics of the treasured battles she'd won. She would-

Something happened ahead and the stupid brute collided with the female, rolling back and knocking her legs form underneath her. She yelped though the sound soon turned into a raging roar of anger. What the hell was wrong with him!? She soon took notice of the wriggling under his fur, the snapping and relocating of bones. She was a bit behind though her transformation began as well. It didn't take long for her well adjusted body to reform into that of the more bipedal mix of man and wolf. Werewolf. Her fur was immaculate, though her chin and maw was still covered in blood. In this form she was more animal then rational humanoid, blue eyes glinting she summoned up a deep rippling mix of a roar and growl, “Leave!” She demanded with a ton of effort, it wasn't easy for a canine mouth to sound out human words you know.

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[Michael Morning]

Michael came to his feet as a true loup-garou. His broad chest rippled with muscles as he stood across from the large werewolf and snarled with aggression at her. In the bright sunlight his white coat was dazzling and his blue eyes shone with the radiance of a true creature of the wilderness. He looked upon his opponent who stood easily a few inches taller them him and he knew that this challenge would be well met. Her size and command of territory told Michael that she was an alpha at the very least. few wolves of such stature take orders from others.

Her command for him to leave stoked the fires of his rage as the words echoed up from memories of his past. "No," was all he could growl. The fact that he could not leave, nor actually explain any reason for him to be here was beyond the abilities of the werewolf's speech. This was a form not for talking but for killing. And would it matter if he could speak anyways?

There was a reason he had once been named the Silver Fang, challenged continuously by her pack-mates, and today he would reveal that to this she-wolf. With a sound half growl, half howl and all primal rage, Michael Launched himself at his opponent, moving just to her side and beyond as he rake across with his sharp claws.

[Kestrel Enyo]

Oh really? As the male arched up on his back legs to stand stall, the abnormally large Enyo followed suit. Ears were pivoted sideways in a sign of aggression, tail away form her body as a sign of dominance. One ear flicked backward at a howl in the distance, once she recognized as one of her lower pack member's. When Mike didn't back down she snarled, hackles raised swiftly and when he lunged she was on her toes heading right for him. Jaws gaping open she snapped down on his shoulder just as he raked her side with his hooked claws. Tail lashing the air she dug her fangs down deep, this was not torture, not drawn out, this would be a kill and let it be over with sort of battle. As alpha she would not be beaten in such a meagre battle of brawn, though she wouldn't call in the others unless he kept up the act and she got bored with him.

Paws kicking at the earth as she let go of his shoulder, turning to face him her brilliant eyes danced in a sick pleasure at the blood around her muzzle and that seeping from her shoulder. Why wasn't he leaving? There was no doubt he could smell the others, they were near enough that she could smell them each individually and call them with even a low bark. Why stay here and fight? Did he have a death wish? He was in Hell Hound territory? What sort of a lunatic would venture here and then pick a fight with the residing alpha? She stood on her back paws, over nine feet in height she eyed him. Tail still away form her body she uttered a low growl, swinging her head toward him. She was giving him one more chance to give in and roll over or run away. She didn't normally let them forfeit, he should take the offer for it was merciful.

[Michael Morning]

Michael stumbled slightly before regaining his footing and turning to face the she-wolf. His shoulder throbbed in pain. She had landed a good blow. His leaping rake seamed insignificant compared to his attack. This was indeed a wolf who had faced many challenges to her as he had. The Beast wanted to keep going. It wanted to defeat and devour her.

In this form it was hard to reason with the rage, but Michael's pride was strong and he knew that his death now before his redemption would accomplish nothing. Michael looked at her, his blood dripping from her muzzle, and from the wound on his shoulder. They were loup-garou, these wounds would heal in no time, but death was a very likely outcome in these challenges. The truth was that it had been ten years since he had confronted another loup-garou in battle. He was ill-fed and not in the prime physical condition he had as the Silver Fang. Perhaps in another time he could have defeated this one, but not today. That was the way of nature. Michael had no wish to die, nor to kill a Hell Hound alpha unless he was forced to. But he also could not return to exile. He had to impress her or kill her to remain in the territory. The howls of her nearby pack-mates told him that he had little choice in this decision.

With a hard swallow of his Kulich pride, Michael relaxed his fighting stance, lowered his claws and bowed his head to his chest, ears flat in a submissive sign. His muscles contracted, his limbs shortened and his size fell considerably until he rested on all four paws in the dirt, his wolf form resumed and his tail tucked close to his hind legs.

[Kestrel Enyo]

Enyo lapped up the blood around her muzzle, tilting her head back she signalled with a howl her co-ordinates and her desire for company from a few of her packmates. She eyed the male his tension fading from his muscles as he kept his eye on her, she watched him with the same sort of interest though it became a much stronger as his head bent and his pride gave way to submission. Yes, that was right, submit to the queen and hope your head doesn't get ripped off in the process. A few low rumblings sounded form the left and right and before she knew it the werewolf was being backed by a large silver wolf and two smaller brown shaded others. Taking her time the female lowered her muzzle and licked at the scratches upon her side, the healing enzymes in her saliva helping the wounds to tether together- the cuts not deep enough to leave scars.

The three wolves gutturally growled, paced and circled the submissive male, he was larger than all three of them though they had numbers where he had his size. The silver brute tilted his head to look at the female, approaching with his head down he moved slowly before licking under her chin as a submissive greeting and welcome back after being separated for the time that they had been. He was as close to a Beta as the pack had at the moment, the largest male in the rankings falling just under the Fenrir Get here by about an inch. Lifting her head Enyo watched the new male and as she eyed him her body melted and reformed leaving not a wolf, but a young, beautiful woman- something probably not expected. Wolves of all sorts and sizes were normally more beautiful in their animal form than human form, many females tended to stay wolves to avoid having their human faces seen though Enyo just wasn't one of those types.

The silver wolf sat back on his haunches, watching the new male as the woman leaned on the male beast, running her fingers through his fur, “Take your humanoid form beast.” She stated as she watched him with those piercing blue eyes. Her tone was sultry, though it was also quite chilling- well, what was he waiting for?

[Michael Morning]

Now there was a whole pack. Michael silently took stalk of the newcomers as they greeted their alpha and encircled him. He figured he might be able to take the males but she had already proved herself a dangerous foe. He watch as she took her human form and felt more than a little disgusted when she told him to do the same. Micheal hated the humans, despised them in fact for what they had done to Eden. In the wastes, there was little or no need for such a vulgar form and so it had been nearly a decade since he had used it.

He waited for long moments after her command, seeing if the males would try to show dominance over him in front of her. He did not miss the constant butting of heads that was common when male wolves sought the attention of a female. Reluctantly, Michael took his human form. His hind legs grew longer and ended in fleshy toes on long feet. His upper body straightened as he rose to stand like an ape on two legs. When it was all done he felt smaller than before, even though his height was well over six feet as a human. Ironically, it was in this form that his physical condition showed most. Without hair to hair the muscles every sculpted inch was clearly visible. Very visible. In ten years he had not taken this form and so in ten years he had no need to seek materials to cover his body. Even now, unfamiliar with the humans shame of their bodies, Michael stood before the pack, naked and uncaring of that state.

He looked into the woman's striking blue eyes, awaiting for her to speak. This was her territory after all.

[Kestrel Enyo]

The handful of wolves here weren't close to the entire pack, there were ten all together, including herself and so if Michael were to attack the three here there were four others who would jump into the brawl quickly enough. Enyo was quick to notice the balking of the beast when she demanded he take his human form, so that made him uncomfortable? Well, she could see how the human form could be drag, human's were defenceless without hand held weapons, humans were weak when they were bare and this was one of the reasons why she had him take the form.

Still leaning on the large silver brute the woman wasn’t paying attention though still felt the vibrations of his body as he smirked and rumbled at the other as he followed the Alpha's word. Seeing such a large pride stricken male being belittled and forced to change- well, he was happy he was on the queen's good side and not her bad like this one here. The other two – a male and female – paced around to the left and right before settling back onto their haunches, each watching the now humanoid male. Between the four of them, none cared much for the nakedness, human embarrassment about not being clothed had long since been eradicated within the pack setting. If, and when, they took human forms they had all seen each other bare- the lack of shame must have been a wolf thing.

As it were Enyo was wearing a pair of tight sleek black near latex tights and a white strappy shirt, tilting her head she took in a short breath, “Who are you, and what made you think it was smart to enter Hell Hound territory? You're lucky I didn't tear your mangy legs off.” She stated.

[Michael Morning]

Although he never took his eyes off of the woman, he kept the rest of the pack in his sight and mind. He would not be caught off guard by them. But when the silver male laughed at him, Michael's gaze shifted angrily to him. He had to remind himself that the time to fight had passed... for now. But he would not forget this slight.

He looked back to her when she began to question him. Who was he? "Morning. My name is Michael Morning." Despite his situation, his voice was still full of pride. "I have not come to invade your territory or fight your wolves, but I will not be turned out into the wastes.