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[claim] i can do more
Posted 10-16-2017, 09:37 AM | This post was last modified: 10-16-2017, 09:39 AM by Devil May Cry
Wind
Devil May Cry
Wind Wolf
Female, 4.50
Endomorph
32 in, 130 lbs
153 ep
© crow.


      What had she done with her life but overcome one obstacle? Escaping the old world--the place of Bastard and Sheep--had been a tremendous feat, without doubt, but it was the only true accomplishment she could claim. The only outward act of improving herself and her life that served as physical proof of any kind of accomplishment. Since she had come here, she had learned. She had grown, in both mind and body. But she had not accomplished. There was no necklace round her throat. No mate, no pups. Only a handful of friends who were moreso claimed than made. Until the feast on the night of the festival she had aspired to do no more than enjoy the ability to live as she wished. And she had.
      But then she'd witnessed the gods on that stardusted night. Watched as they formed from the air, from the earth, and bestowed their blessings upon Mars and an unknown male. It was then that she'd realized that there was more to live than simply living. A greater purpose, a better reason, for her being. Her opinion of the gods was still forming, ever-changing based on experience and information as she gained them, but she now had an understanding of why and what she had to do. As she'd put it to Mars that same night; "Gods don't do things for you. You do things for yourself, with the powers they give you to help. Or with the knowledge of their existence. And if you do enough for yourself, they recognize you." The words were quiet against the noise of the wind.
      She stood atop the hill, though not at its peak. This was a rocky outcrop on the eastern side of the hill, overlooking Lightning Valley below. Indeed, the wolf stared down at the home of her beloved Imogen, thoughts of the female making her resolve all the more strong. The wind buffeted her, pushing her fur to and fro so that it seemed to have a mind of its own, but her stance was spread to keep her balance in this unfamiliar place. She'd heard the call of resignation--a cry that carried on the air for miles around--and had come to answer it with her own of beginning. The wolf lifted her head to the cloudless sky, howling for those that remained here. Any that would not see her as the alpha of this place, and champion of her own life. Quickly, the breeze would sweep away her call to the furthest reaches. She lowered her head, electric gaze sparking as it swept the path she'd taken up for movement.
      I should like to do for myself. The same thought she'd given Mars, only added by a desire and ambition that had gone without proper explanation; So that I can do for others.


Devil May Cry is attempting to claim Wind.



notes. soooo i hope this is okay? if i need to change something or whatnot, please let me know <3 edit; to add tag for divine intervention because i think i need to do that? q.q never done this before
words. 471
tags. Lyra, Divine Intervention










Posted 10-16-2017, 12:38 PM | This post was last modified: 10-16-2017, 01:24 PM by Doutaini Staff
Doutaini Staff
Staff
N/A, 11.25
----
in, lbs
0 ep
© 
STAFF NOTE: User PM'ed on this account.

If no one contends the claim in 3 days, DMC is sole alpha of Wind!










Posted 10-18-2017, 10:26 AM |
Storm
Imogen
Storm Beta
Female, 3.25
Ectomorph
35 in, 85 lbs
43 ep
© Wren
The wind carried many tales as of late – Imogen had heard a call echo a few days earlier, one that announced resignation, though she knew not of what. Her knowledge of the geography of Doutaini was shaky, at best, and she was not aware that the pack that lived on the hill overlooking the valley was that of Wind, for she had never met one of their wolves. But when a call arose again, carrying from the same place, Imogen recognized it, for she was intimately familiar with the voice. Imogen hesitated only a moment. She did not know why Devil May Cry was issuing a cry to summon, but perhaps she, as a confidante of the rogue, would be a welcome addition to whatever meeting the other female was trying to begin. Imogen would go to the hill from whence the cry had come, and she would return with whatever news she could glean, for the good of her pack.

The journey was not a fast one, as Imogen spent most of it climbing uphill, but when she found Devil May Cry, the other female was still alone. Imogen did not bother with formalities – she did not need to bow to the one she called friend easily and without reservation. “Why are you calling, my dove?” Imogen asked curiously, her quest for more information now beginning. She knew the moniker – a bird meant for peace – would seem strange to some, but to the Storm wolf, the rogue brought peace. Devil May Cry was not afraid to fight for what she wanted, yes, but she also did not go seeking battles from those whom she did not need to fight. Imogen closed the last of the gap between the two wolves, aiming to press her muzzle against the rogue’s in greeting and in solidarity, before stepping back again, sitting attentively as she waited for the answer to her inquiry.

Devil May Cry Divine Intervention
OOC. Imogen is neither contesting nor supporting Devil May Cry's claim, as she is not aware yet that it is a claim. Silly kid.










Posted 10-18-2017, 02:06 PM |
Enigma
Aderchop
Enigma Wolf
Male, 4.75
Ectomorph
39 in, 90 lbs
90 ep
© Sphinx
The wind is upon this day more wolfish than ever he shall be.
He is frail, there is no mistaking it – aye, there is scarcely a muscle in him, other than that which dwells in his skull, and in his mouth – nor is his belly bloated with sustenance, and his legs are grey twigs beneath slender form, and so this uphill journey is one which taxes his very movement. In his ascent, hearing a call whose tones he thought he recognised, there had been times where he had grown fully motionless, all the press of his lithe body rendered wholly useless against the greater shove of the wind.
Damn the gods of this starry place,” is what he had said to himself aloud in a low growl, which should have been inaudible to even one who walked with an ear pressed to his lips - “And damn hills, damn every hill ever shaped by whichever sordid hand first thought to do so.

Yet soon his ponderings of his actions having been folly are dismembered, when the cruel wind pushes in his direction the musky metallic scent which he so well knows and loves – that of Devil May Cry. Alas! his ears had not deceived him, nor had his mind stepped false in its presumption!
Staggering against the outrageous force, feet shuffling where they can and head turned down in a strained bow, he presses himself up onto a ridge-like brow of the hill, where the warmth of two wolven scents beckon to him.
He becomes aware of Imogen's presence quite quickly, and the faint odour of her body slips o'er his side in a column, as it is forced to do by the wind. So as not to frighten her with sudden contact without warning, he announces his close approach with a chesty cough which had been building up, and, coming up alongside the stormwoman, lightly brushes against her and stops to stand there. To bow to her? He supposes she is one of that small and precious circle of comrades of which Aderchop has found himself a part of, so he supposes too that to engage in such formalities again should be superfluous – instead, while he thinks this over for the future, he merely turns his head to her slightly and nods with a feeble smile, before turning to look upon DMC.

The snake's heart is and has always been a greyed one, one which has moved less than the larger form which writhes in excess up in his skull. Yet now, feeling the meager warmth from Imogen against his side, and feeling the fluttering of true concern for that mighty rogue which stands before him, why, he at once feels a flush, if minor, of utter gratitude.
It is not gods which form bonds such as these, nay, rather it seems it is an absence or difference of them which doth ripen between souls the ancient link of binding in such a precious way.

DMC stands upon the lip of the ledge, and in her taut-muscled stance she resembles a mighty lion or wingless dragon of some sort, looking upon lands she knows shan't be tamed by the likes of words and wars and petty links. She makes for a stupendous sight; a vision at the edge of some confusing dream, one which has been stumbled into from a nightmare and which seems to ignore her presence.

Devil May Cry, my dear friend,” - he practically shouts across to her in a battle against the whistling wind - “-for what purpose have you come to these blasted summits?
summary: aderchop hears a howl which he thinks might be dmc, and naturally hes curious as always so he walks up the hill to get to where he thinks it came from - ofc struggling against the wind and the steepness because hes a sickly man - and gets up to where im and dmc are, stands next to im and asks why dmc is here
tags: Devil May Cry, Imogen












Posted 10-18-2017, 03:29 PM |
Earth ( Admin )
Mars
Earth Alpha
Male, 3.50
Meso-runner
34 in, 118 lbs
502 ep
© ev

there was a call, one from the wind territory. mars ears perk as he travels across the meadows. it is a female's call, not lyra, not niyole. his eyes narrow before he pinpoints the voice, devil may cry. he bounds off towards the hill. what was happening? mars knew of no claim on the hill. had she been hurt? what if tyrus had seen her as a threat? a call is thrown back to the woman, a fierce one, a loud one that seems to echo the meadows as he bounds through them. he was taking a personal day to study nature in its finest. during the fall, there were many animals getting ready for the great sleep. it made mars curious, it made him think. it also gave him time to practice pushing his limits in running and magic. but, playtime was over. mars had to beat whoever had heard the call. his breathing is labored as he makes his way up the hill, one he had climbed twice before, so he knew the dangers of it. he knew that to get up, he had to grasp the dirt and rocks underneath his paws. he jumps up the hill, running and dodging the other bigger obstacles in the way. he is breathless by the time he reaches the top of the hill, bones sore as he pushes himself to run towards where the call came from. a growl pushes at his teeth, his body aching for him to stop, yet there is no stopping when it comes to friends. he, finally, arrives, seeing that imogen and aderchop have made it before him. his eyes slither across them before he moves past them, sniffing the air before circling around dmc, she was not leaking crimson blood or smelling of any wounds. then again, something in the air was different. the borders did not smell like tyrus or lyra, had no one been marking their scent here? his eyes flicker around before they lay on devil may cry, "what's going on? devil may cry, are you alright?" then it hits him. this was a claim for wind. for haruko's newest leader. where had tyrus gone? his ears flick as he takes a step back to greet imogen and aderchop, his eyes do not rest on imogen for long- for he does not want to see if the woman is still upset with him over the pits. he reaches his breath, catching it as he speaks once more, "are you sure?" he whispers as he gestures to the hill and all its glory, somewhere that he had wanted to stay at one point. for if she was sure, he had no reason to doubt the woman.

Devil May Cry

searching to find myself but all i see is you,
i can hardly stand myself so, what am i to you?











Posted 10-18-2017, 05:41 PM |
Davida
Rogue
Female, 6.75
Meso-runner
28 in, 95 lbs
350 ep
© Julie
Wind had begun to thrive when she handed down her crown nearly a year ago—the dove-colored woman had been confident in her choice, and with the appearance of Haruko at the coronation of Tyrus, she was even more pleased and hopeful for the future. All the while, Davida went off to bear her children in secret and care for them as they grew. But time would prove she was very much like her own mother as Nephele disappeared and her efforts went into finding the missing girl. All the while, her son was left unattended and she was uncertain of whether he was still alive or not—had he gone missing too? Especially after Tyrus disbanded the pack with his resignation, her worrying mind could only jump to conclusions of how her children felt—wherever they were. But Xyntanza’s Hill had been her place of belonging forever and even without a necklace to officiate her stay, someone had to stay behind to tend to the vast mountainside until a rightful leader came along. Plus, if her children were still in Doutaini, she imagined this would be the place they would search for her first.

Amid her usual routine of minding the hillside, Davida was drawn by the call of a stranger as it joined into the howling vortex of winds crowning Haruko’s great kingdom. Curiosity and hope sent her heart fluttering, a rhythm that picked at her soul and breathed life into it for what seemed to be a final season. The Eins woman was not getting any younger, and as she made her way to answer the stranger’s call, she felt entirely sluggish in her reply. Though it was more to do with her customary use of agility that aided her in answering other calls quickly. Without her gem and Haruko’s magic, the world appeared to spin more slowly and the wolves with languid steps. Nevertheless, Davida finally arrived and witnessed a small gathering that included wolves of Earth, Storm, and Enigma, along with a rogue woman. “Pace yourselves in your climb—it is dangerous, for the air this high is not the same as down below.” She cautioned them, for it would not be the first time she attended to someone who climbed too quickly and fainted as a result. Her voice was kindly spoken, though it held an air of authority that had been gleaned from experience. “My name is Davida Eins—I was born upon this Hill and have called it home my entire life, with or without a necklace to make it so.” She announced, lowering her head softly in a display of greeting. Davida eyed them momentarily before her sights would turn towards the woman without a gem. “Was it you who called for us?” Inquired the former wolf of Wind, gathering an assumption of what had attracted the woman towards Haruko’s might.

Davida had lived long enough to know the way of wolves, possessing the knowledge that when one wolf fell, another would rise. She had seen six different leaders come to this castle in the sky—seven if she were to include herself. There was not a living wolf that had lived here longer than she, nor was it likely they knew more of the Hill’s past. It had always been a troubled thing, struggling to survive; she had tried her hand out of devotion to her patron-god, but she was no ruler by design. Now, she imagined Haruko’s favor and crown would pass on to an eighth ruler to which she bore witness. Davida settled among the others with attentive ears cast to the strangers, prepared to share her knowledge of this place if it meant she could remain here until her final days.










Posted 10-22-2017, 09:08 AM | This post was last modified: 10-22-2017, 10:54 AM by Devil May Cry
Wind
Devil May Cry
Wind Wolf
Female, 4.50
Endomorph
32 in, 130 lbs
153 ep
© crow.


      There was a kind of peace in the chaos of the strong winds. How the noise swept away all the tiny noises that would so distract the alerted mind, leaving only the focused thoughts that swirled about the skull. How the movement of fur, tossed to and fro, felt so much akin to the earliest of life's memories when siblings jostled each other to vie for a turn at mother's milk. Allowed a moment to exist just within herself, with the soothing motions against her flesh, the wolf was able to just breathe. To detach from all of the stress, all of the frustration, all of the issues that had plagued her mind. If there ever a definition of bliss, this might've been it.
      A voice from behind drew her from one peaceful place to the next; For Imogen was a soothing and comforting presence. The wolf turned, moving away from the edge, and met her beloved Storm wolf with a fierce snarl of affection--and, oh, how only a beast could do so--as they met. The touch of Imogen's muzzle against her own sent electricity up her spine, raising her hackles with its tingle. The snarl intensified, changed tone, as Imogen withdrew and settled a distance away. No. She didn't accept this action. So, as the Storm female moved back, the wolf simply moved directly forward in following. She aimed to bring their muzzles together once more, this time opening her own so that she might capture Imogen's in a grip that was perhaps too hard, if only out of desperation to be close again. If this grip is achieved, she would hold it for a moment, staring deep into Imogen's gaze, so as to capture and enrapture and try, without words, to express her displeasure at being apart. Then she would release and, whether she had gained the hold or not, would duck her skull and try to press it beneath the Storm wolf's chin, rolling her body so that she could press her side-neck into the timber wolf's throat and her cheek into Imogen's shoulder.
      There, in this position, she would've remained forever were it not for the approach of another wolf. For a moment, the snarl that had gone quiet--sated by touch--would return in full force to warn this newcomer that Imogen was claimed. Then, as recognition of the grayscale male would hit, it would stifle. A grin, wide and fanged, grew on her muzzle at Aderchop's appearance, and she would step back to allow him his own touch of the Storm wolf--though her eyes would betray her jealousy in a single flash of emotion. His voice was small against the wind, and she realized just how frail he truly was in this place. Where the wind seemed to knock him about, and his fur would compress to allow the extent of his skin-and-bones body to be seen plainly. Fool. A decision was made right then to feed him until he gained at least five pounds. But she was too happy at his arrival to be angered by his appearance, and so she rushed forward again to meet him. Jaws clamored for his neck, a duck then rise of head intended to dip beneath his chin then knock it upwards to expose his throat. She would come, snarling like a savage animal, but the pressure of her fangs would be carefully regulated to ensure any suffocation would be strictly pleasurable, should she gain a hold on his windpipe. The faded scent of thyme still clung to his fur, and it tensed her body and tempted the beast to food.
      This grip, if attained, would last only a moment before the wolf would pull back her jaws and lift them. Skull tilted back, exposing her own throat to Aderchop (and Imogen, given the proximity), inviting him to partake as she had. Perhaps this was a strange greeting between friends, but she believed it was a matter of implicit trust; She would never see him brought to harm, and she believed he would never harm her. That was the unspoken pact between the beast and its claimed. Provide, health and happiness.
      There was a sudden rush of frantic scent on a stray breeze, and suddenly Mars had arrived. She remained with her throat available to any of the now three wolves on the scene as he circled her, sniffing insistently for injury or malady. Where his nose touched her body were shivers that raced to and up her spine. Only once he was done did she drop her head back down, hackles still raised in excitement, and fix her electric gaze upon him. The wolf watched as Mars greeted Aderchop and Imogen, carefully avoiding the Storm wolf's direct gaze. Nonsense. That night had happened long ago, and they had hunted together since. There would be no discord between her claimed, for that would mean there was some measure of happiness that had not been provided for. With a motion of head, she indicated that all three should gather tightly to her, so that they would not need to shout above the wind to be heard. She had seen the confusion followed by understanding on Mars' face, and the puzzlement in Aderchop and Imogen. They would understand, now, for she would tell them. Be still and know that I give you my heart.
      Before words could finally be spoken, yet one more wolf arrived and gave words. There was wonder in her eyes as she watched this white female move effortlessly against the wind and over the rock. Even before it was spoken that she had lived here, it was known by the ease of movement. Taking a single step to the side, to open enough room in the would-be cluster for another body, she motioned with her head that the unknown female should join their conspiratorial circle. Better to be close and whisper than far and shout. She waited quietly, gaze passing from her friends, lingering on each of them with warmth and love, until enough time had passed that the white female would have made her choice to join them or remain aloof. She was eager to know this wolf, to know what she knew of this hill and the alphas who had not answered her claim, but she would not force herself upon a stranger again--it was rude.
      Finally, braced against the wind with her hackles raised in pure excitement, she spoke to the hopefully closely-gathered wolves. "I have heard the call of a male, resigning himself from this place. When I arrived there were no boundary scents, nothing but faded markers that no longer smelled of pack. So I have given my cry to any who remain here, that I would claim this place, this pack, if no one would object." Eager, now she cast her gaze and attention to Mars. "I want to do more. I want to do for myself so that I can do for others." What she had told him that night at the festival had been only half-formed, and now she could explain what had been unable to before. This time, the words were meant to encompass the entire group. "I have lived in hardship and struggled to survive. I want to create a place where there will be no such things. Where life will mean friendship, camaraderie, and where one is given both health and happiness that they might live a fulfilling and meaningful life."
      Eyes turned to the white wolf, name unknown. "Yes, it was I who called for the wolves of the Hill. Will you tell me of it?" Tell me of pack, of family.



notes. SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER. i'm very very very very pleased with it and this thread is going to be AMAZING for character development q.q
words. 1,277
tags. Divine Intervention, Imogen, Aderchop, Mars], Davida










Posted 11-03-2017, 10:18 AM | This post was last modified: 11-03-2017, 10:28 AM by Dhalion
Dhalion
Rogue
Male, 2.00
Endomorph
34 in, 135 lbs
0 ep
© puffball


Xyntanza had been plagued by indecisive hearts, Tyrus' rule had been fleeting, the kinship of their pack had dissolved like stone eroded by salt water and Dhalion had been present to see it come to fruition. Those wolves devout to Haruko were disbanded, the pale gem that he had carried with him since his birth had shattered. Too young to do anything, the boy had remained at the line of where the borders had once been in place. The Hill would forever be his home, but with a missing sister and mother, Dhalion had finally committed himself to finding his family and had left Wind in hopes of catching news of the whereabouts of his blood.

Upon his return he was roused by the zealous call of a stranger's coo, beckoning those forward who cared to listen. Weary from his journey, the young wolf followed the voice. The ivory of his coat was layered in a brown dust, clipped with pieces of debris and muck from his journey. The youth that should have clung to his face had been chipped away by environmental wounds gathered on his outings from the Hill. A disheveled rogue he ambled at his leisure to rest a mile out on a hill not far off from where he could see the small number of wolves now gathered together. Faces and perfumes he did not recognize greeted him, and for a moment he contemplated moving on, that is until the most recognizable scent of home came flooding through his senses.

Dhalion's eyes widened in disbelief-- had his mother returned? A nest of emotions welled in his chest, and his hesitation diminished as he closed the gap between himself and the other wolves. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her, he must have been at her chest then, he now eclipsed his mother with his height. "Mother?" his voice near cracked, the suspicion in the blue stardust of his eyes apparent as he inched towards the apparition of Davida. It was no never mind to him that the she-wolf of black and white had laid claim to the Hill, for it would remain his home no matter who ruled its lands. This was the place of his birth, where he hoped to spend the remainder of his life, alongside his mother and hopefully one day his sister should she ever return to them.


"."