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 Return to the Wild

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Delamere
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PostSubject: Re: Return to the Wild   November 23rd 2013, 5:18 pm

Daven reluctantly lowered his arm as a swirling gray mist overtook his body. The vortex spun faster and faster until it simply dissolved into the humid air, revealing Basant’s true form. The ancient beast, his eyes conveying a deep saddens, addressed his Queen in their native tongue, “I have lost you forever, haven’t I?” He waved his hand, lifting the heavy veil that held the Pack on its knees. Slowly, one by one, they all stood.

Mykael couldn’t take his eyes off of the ravishing Golden Queen; he could see the shadow of Gangrel in her. His love was there - somewhere - hidden just below the surface. He gently touched her cheek, “My Queen.”

Basant’s eyes narrowed, but he remained silent.

***

They moved through the trees as a unit. Black laced boots crunching through the wet underbrush. Ithal, Reiko, Mae, and many more marched toward the plantation house. Hunters and Rougarou had united for this battle.

“Brother,” Ithal, his eyes ablaze with hatred, turned to the bizarre creature on his right, “We shall be there soon. The house is just over...”

“I am not your brother, cur,” the powerful wolf held up his hand, effectively cutting Ithal short. He raised his fist high in the air, the entire marching army stopped on his command. He turned to Ithal, “They know we are coming, our Mother has revealed herself.”

Ithal frowned, “Then we must move quickly before the Pack has time to organize.”

“Your Pack is not a concern,” the dark-skinned wolf spoke, “They can be destroyed easily.” He gave Ithal an unnerving smile, “It is Mother and Father that will pose the true challenge.”
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Mahigan
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PostSubject: Re: Return to the Wild   November 23rd 2013, 8:41 pm

Nephthys moved to Daven. She stood mere inches from him. A deep, in-drawn breath could have pulled them even further together.

You have never lost me, Basant.” She reached up and placed the palm of her right hand against his chest directly over his heart. “I live in your heart where your memories of me reside.” A sad smile tugged at the corners of her full lips and she moved the hand that had been against his chest and used her thumb to brush away a single tear that had trailed down his face.

Lifetimes have divided us, beloved. I lived for you centuries ago, and I will forver live within you but all I can be is a memory, nothing more. Gangrel has my power now and it is her time to reign. You can help her become the Queen she needs to be for our race to thrive. You can walk away and never interfere, or you can attempt to win her affections from Mykael. Court her the way a Queen should be. Or you can speak with Mykael and Gangrel and see if they are willing to invite you into their bed.”

Nephthys stepped back, allowing her facade to slowly slip away. “The choice is yours, Basant.” Were her last parting words to her former Mate.

Gangrel’s form wavered back into view and she fell to her knees, drained and exhausted but she knew there was no time to rest. They had to find a safe haven. And they had to move now.
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Delamere
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PostSubject: Re: Return to the Wild   November 24th 2013, 9:54 am

The Pack moved silently, following Basant as he weaved his way through the dripping foliage toward his abandoned plantation home. The place had been boarded up and deserted shortly after  the death of his wife and child, only recently had it been reopened. His young children, those that remained loyal to the crown, had found him, pulled him from the fog of depression and brought him back home.

Basant was the first to break through and step into the clearing. The house, a humble collection of white wash boards, polished glass, and carved columns, stood in the very center of the void. He had built it that way, to allow him an unobstructed 360 degree view of his property.

“My Lord,” came the husky voice. A curvy woman, dressed in tattered ancient garb, slowly descended the stairs to great Basant. She curtsied before examining the Pack that had gathered behind her King. They looked exhausted.

Basant mumbled something to the odd creature in a language that Mykael did not understand. He squeezed Gangrel’s hand, his long black hair still held the feather he had braided in just before the crowning ceremony, “Do you trust him?”
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