a prophecy || open

[ivoiresvenn]

[atrb=width,400,true][atrb=border,0,true][bg=b7bcbf] I S H O U L D A K N O W N

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The lake looked calm and quiet from where she stood, but she knew underneath the calm water, life blossomed. Knowing others would rather enjoy soft sand rather than hard rocks, she decided to go there, as far away from the sands as possible. The snow had ceased for now, and she looked up into the cloudy sky, her eyes closed as she took a deep breath. She could smell their scent marks, claiming this land as theirs. But Ivoire was smart enough to avoid certain spots, so here she was, as far away from their marks as possible. She climbed down closer towards the shore, and her breath caught in her throat at the sight of her reflection; she was dirty, her face pale and cheekbones sticking out too far, and she had bags under her eyes. She traced her fingers over the dark bags and wiped away the dirt that mingled there. Ivoire sighed quietly and looked away, her eyes watering. What happened to those days, when water was warm and she was able to bathe frequently.

It wasn’t beauty she was concerned about; it was being clean. Having soft skin and clean hair, manicured hands and feet; just being healthy. Her face went blank of any expression and she began to peel her clothes off of her body, gasping quietly as the air bit at her bare skin. But she didn’t stop. She took her clothes off, layer by layer, until she was nude as a newborn babe.

Ivoire slipped into the water, giggling quietly as the ice cold water pressed against her skin. She felt her toes growing numb as she searched for something to wash with, and found a rock covered in moss. Quickly, she yanked the green pieces off and took a deep, deep breath, before diving into the water. From experience, she knew to keep moving to warm up, and so she did. She swam underwater, her eyes open, watching the marine life flee from her. When she needed to breathe, she plunged out of the water and gasped for air; her teeth began to move up and down as she shivered. “Aua!” She whispered. “Sheise! Sheise, sheise, sheise! Kaltes Wasser!“ she continued to mumble under her breath in German as she began to scrub her body clean with the moss, until her skin glowed pink . When she began to grow tired, she climbed out of the water and shook the watr off of her hands, and wiped it off of her face. She grabbed her clothes and quickly put them on, rubbing her body down until she began to grow warmer. She put her hair into her hood and sat quietly on the rocks, watching quietly as birds slowly began to approach her, oblivious to the danger.

Her stomach began to grow, but she stayed clear of the creatures; she didn’t want to risk her life for food. She sat with her arms crossed over her propped legs, still watching, and occasionally joining in the bird song with her own whistles. And for a moment, Ivoire almost felt as if she were at home, with Jakob and Wolgang, they bathing in the water and she sitting on the shore, whistling quietly to the surrounding birds.

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[ooc] German translation: "Ouch!" "Shit! Shit, shit, shit!" "Cold water!"

[zakariah]

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[atrb=background,http://fotos.fotoflexer.com/853d69bb7ef842f904f7a8a4325b5153.jpg] Cold bodies pressed in on him, devoid of any sort of warmth—cold fur rubbed into his own, snapping teeth slavering with spittle as the other canines fought over themselves to reach him. They snarled and snapped, searing whatever flesh they could grasp, as Zakariah weaved his way through the knurl of thrashing beasts. He was afraid, backed into a corner, body trembling with the effort of terror as it was pushed through his veins. Indeed, these bodies were cold! Where they should have been warm and alive, it seemed as if they were vampiric demons without hearts in their chests. It seemed as if they had soaked in the winter and used it to fuel their icy bloodlust. Zakariah barked and whined, low on his haunches, as they descended upon him viciously. He was cornered again, backed into an alleyway like he had been years prior with his brother and sister. Both gone now. Nolan wasn’t here to protect him any longer. It was just Zakari, all by his lonesome, terrified and childish as the fangs dug into his hide and pulled him from the alcove in which he hid. The gathered canines drug him out with teeth and claws, and tore him to shreds, and Zakariah sat by, whimpering for them to stop although he knew they would not head his feeble pleas. Rather, it seemed to renew their vigor, and he was ripped apart by clicking ivory teeth that were suddenly staining his spectral merle coat with crimson. Run, Zakariah, run. He heard the voice in his head and it was calm and quiet within a loud, vicious world. He stumbled over himself in his attempt to flee, all to no avail, as he stumbled back down and was devoured by a sea of bloodthirsty dogs, wolves, and other such creatures. His people? Or were they strangers? He awoke with a gasp at his throat—the air escaped his lungs as if he had been struck, and Zakariah struggled desperately to regain his ephemeral breath. He choked, throat muscles clenching as his fingers dug into the messy loam of the forest floor. Yes. They were fingers—human fingers belonging to human hands, which curled into the foliage that littered the ground messily. Words were on his lips, words that he wanted to scream into the forest as he struggled to find oxygen again—he wanted to ask for help, but knew deep in his heart that he wouldn’t. That he never did. That he never really would. Zakariah rolled over, feeling the bitter sting of snow soak into his clothing at his knees as he kneeled and struggled to stand. Ragged inhalations were brought in through his parted lips, and he sounded like someone who’d just completed a marathon run with no former training. ”Help, please help…” Zakariah breathed outwards with full realization that no one was going to answer his senseless pleas. Help him with what—no one knew. His nightmares? Who could save him from that? Who could possibly guard him from the night terrors which plagued his unconscious mind? Not that it mattered. After finally catching his breath again, Zaki saw fit to shift into his much warmer animal form—he moved with gracefulness, ghosting over the shallow snow drifts like he had been borne from them. As always, his silence was unsettling, and brought forth the unwanted analogy of a spectral apparition. Yes, in the early morning light, he looked much like that—illumination splayed through the trees, rays of spilled gold that fell from the sky and graced the earthen ground. It tinged the edges of his fur gold in color, and made his blue eyes fill with tinges of crystalline light. He was like a ghost of the forest, with perked ears and a muzzle that turned towards the whistling of nondescript birds. However, he was moving through the edge of the forest when he harked into a minuscule different whistle. Zakariah had ears keen enough to distinguish a natural bird’s call from that of an artificial one (or at least, if he was paying attention—which he strangely was right now, his senses sharpened by the fear that still pulsed through his blood after the nightmare). He altered course, a flicker of distant emotion lighting up his moonstone orbs, before fading back into the folds of his silken eyes… so lost, so despair-racked; emotionless, yet tangled with complex feelings. Zakariah let loose a sigh, raising his narrow muzzle and scenting at the air. The wind was not in his favor, at the moment, and this resulted in drawing him forth furthermore through the forest until he came on the rocky shore of Goodlady lake. He scanned the placid waters, cold and edged with snow and ice, until his eyes fell upon a damp form that was perched on the shore. He stood, breathing quietly on the edge of the woods, standing in the stance of a skittish animal deciding whether or not to get closer to a newfound threat, or wandering if it ought to run. Zakariah knew that the girl did not belong on his lands, for she was a stranger for a foreign face. Her scent finally wafted towards him, and it screamed the unfamiliarity of one of the Rings. This is my land, thought Zakari in his hesitant silence. She isn’t supposed to be here on my land. In all reality, this wasn’t his land per se, but he did live here. It served the one whom had claimed the territory to begin with. Thus, as a result, Zaki breathed in a deep breath and shifted into his human form. In comparison to his slight, feminine canine shape, his human one was quite the contrast with his dark hair and lean musculature. His eyes remained that same bright, ethereal blue, placed into tanned skin and the set of an at least partially Native American face. In an instant he arose through the forest scenery and started out towards the water where the woman stood, attempting to gather courage as he walked. ”H-hey you, girl.” He called out, his voice shaking more than he would have liked. There was something unmistakably eerie about the way Zakari spoke—as if he had nothing in his voice but faded life, worn out into colors of black and white, lost in dreams very far away from there. Y-y-you, you aren’t s-supposed to be h-here. It’s Nilda territory.” He paused, remaining a distance away, still acting as though he could possibly bolt at any second back into the trees. His eyes avoided meeting hers, and skimmed over her face, oftentimes landing on her feet instead or tilting up towards the clear, cold sky. Zakariah came to notice the chill in the air and began to pull his black trench coat tighter around his frame. ”Y-you’re lucky that I stumbled a-across you, and n-n-not some other Nilda. There are animals in this t-territory that would’ve t-t-torn you a-apart without a second t-thought.” Zakariah finally glanced at her, intending to stare boldly, but all he could manage was a meek expression twisted into a grimace. occ; I luvs my Zaki-boy <3

[ivoiresvenn]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,350,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=background,http://i55.tinypic.com/289e9fk.png] She heard someone approaching, and the scent she noticed before engulfed her nostrils and she had to place her nose in the sleeve of her hoodie to get a breath of fresh air. “Then,” she started when she had finally caught some air. “I guess I should be thankful for you not being someone else? Regardless,” she looked down at her now clean, pristine nails and shrugged. “I haven’t done a thing wrong; I merely wanted to bathe. Is there harm in that?” Ivoire pulled her hood down and let loose her still damp hair, now a dark reddish brown, and looked over her shoulder at him, at the boy who boldly approached her- but stuttered. She raised one of her light colored brows and shrugged her shoulders, turning her attention back to the small waves that crashed against the rocks and against her toes. “Do I get the pleasure of knowing what your names is?” with her face turned away from him, the only thing that gave away the smile she had was the small upturn of the corners of her lips. “I’m Renarde.” With her name spoken, she stood and dusted the back of her pants off with her hands and elegantly, and quite easily, stepped through the rocks until she was face to face with the guy. For a brief moment, she looked him over, taking note of each and every detail she could; dark skin, black hair, dark eyes, some-what pointy ears; her predatory skills kicked in and she continued to eye him cautiously, suspiciously, and intriguingly before waved out her hand to greet him. “Hopefully,” Ivoire smirked slightly. “It’ll actually be a pleasure, and there will be no shredding of the body or faces. I doubt anyone would enjoy that.” A playful smile emerged on her face and she shivered, putting her hand in the pocket of her jacket, briefly looking over her shoulders at the lake and the surrounding area. “Quite a place you have, Nilda,” her German accent portrayed quiet strongly as she brought her gaze up towards his as she put her hood over her head. ”My kinda place, but a bit too cold for my liking.” Even though I’ve lived in colder places, she added to herself, feeling that the air was so cold is was practically palpable. But the whole entire reason Ivoire was here wasn’t necessarily to bathe in the lake; after a while, one would grow tired of being immured at the same place, seeing the same people, and doing the same thing; it got old after a while. Exploring was something in her blood and she always had to be on the move, or she would chew her on feet off in boredom. The hyena-shifter smirked at the thought of chewing her on foot off.

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[zakariah]

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[atrb=background,http://fotos.fotoflexer.com/853d69bb7ef842f904f7a8a4325b5153.jpg] Zakariah couldn’t help the pucker in his brows as he watched the woman burry her nose in her sleeve, and then reply to what he had said. It merely brought indignation into his mind and a hard crease to his lips. ”... you have too done something wrong,” Zakariah declared, his voice smoothing out in the slightest with his annoyance. ”This is Nilda territory—you’re trespassing. You’re a shifter, aren’t you? Doesn’t your kind have laws about that? I-I mean, you wouldn’t have gone to your n-neighbor’s house when they were out of t-town and simply used their shower without asking, w-would you?” He let out a “huff” and stared meticulously at the red-headed woman, his gaze narrowed considerably. Zakariah had never trusted people much, not even from his life on the streets. There were those few kindhearted individuals that would throw the homeless pup a scrap of meat, but their kindness never exceeded that simple gesture. He didn’t trust shapeshifters any more than he trusted normal humans, and they oftentimes left a bitter taste in his mouth. His anger, however, swiftly dissipated. This woman, it seemed, was not much of a threat. Yet—although she could be hiding some sort of power or malice, couldn’t she? Zakari sighed in the slightest, his cerulean gaze never wavering. That, perchance, was the single formidable thing about Zakariah—his gaze held the intensity of any herding dog, and a dreamy distance that foretold someone who lived legions away from earth, and faced this other realm boldly alone. As it was, his gaze skipped away from her and landed on the lake. He’d become familiar to the site, and suddenly he was struck with a pang of desolate longing. He felt so hopelessly alone. Where was Nolan? Where was Lucky? He bit back a sudden flood of tears at the thought of his siblings, and bit his tongue until he tasted blood. When he finally mustered the strength to reply to the woman, his voice was thick. ”I-I’m Zakariah, Nilda General.” He spoke that last bit with a small amount of pride, although it was faint in the distant timbre of his voice. ”It is… n-nice to meet you, R-Renarde.” Zaki muttered, his pale blue eyes flicking back to her and staying transfixed there as she stood and brushed herself off. The tone of voice that the Australian Shepherd dog spoke in seemed to be somewhat distasteful and hesitant, as if he couldn’t decide whether or not the terms they had “met” on were particularly welcomed or not. He was accustomed enough to people studying him (and accustomed enough to studying other people) to recognize when her gaze took on a different note. Zakariah momentarily wondered what this woman’s shapeshift was—he hoped it wasn’t something overly dangerous, especially if things turned fierce. He had a brief flashback of his dream, and of the cold bodies swarming around him with their slavering jaws keen on ripping and tearing into flesh… Zak merely stared at the gesture her hand made, unsure of how to take it or how to return whatever greeting it was. Rather, he just shrugged it off and attempted to grapple the unsettling image of his nightmare from his mind. His smile was very dry, and not quite there—it was the type of grin someone would give if they were looking out into the middle-distance, waiting for something or someone else to arrive into the encounter, but filled with the knowledge that whatever it was wouldn’t show up. He looked distracted, momentarily, locked in the faded illustration of his horrendous and grotesque night terror—blood, and fear, and the smell of canine as the bodies pressed in around, blocking out the light and the warmth… ”H-hopefully it w-won’t turn to t-that. It would prove to m-make the d-day rather un-unpleasant,” Zakariah muttered, attempting to draw himself back to focus and force his breath around the knot in his throat. His smile was dry and somewhat humorless, but more than anything else, it was sad-seeming, just like it almost always was. ”Well, I hope you don’t plan to s-stay. I d-don’t think most of the Nilda w-would take t-too kindly to you being h-here, shapeshifter—” another sullen smirk ”—not to m-mention, it o-only g-gets c-colder later in the season.” occ;! ladidada late night ppppooosssttt