o-Lunetta-o
Planetoid
- Joined
- Sep 29, 2016
How long has this war gone on?
Vivienne Moore has lost count. For as long as she has been alive, the wolves of the region had fought with the undead or nightwalker's as they preferred calling them. They kept their conflict away from humans as best as possible, but there were occasions where it was unavoidable, that innocent blood was spilled. The wolves of the region distrusted the reigning family of vampires, just as the distrust was reciprocated for them. One thing that the Alpha scorned was the nightwalker's need for blood, most preferring humans. The wolves felt tasked with defending the human's from these 'bloodsuckers' as they were crudely called. Rather than question the conflict, she obediently followed the suggestion of her pack leader, who was fearless and a strong leader, alongside with his mate, the Alpha female.
The night had intended to be like any other, save that she was hunting on her own after the rest of her pack had been called away to investigate suspicious activities. She transformed, allowing the surge of energy to flow through her as she resumed her lupine state she preferred to hunt it. There were three forms her kind could assume: human, total wolf, and a hybrid between the first, but the final form was for special occasions and drained the most out of them. Her pelt, a rustic almost auburn brown, shimmered beneath the moonlight as she silently stalked her prey, a doe that quietly foraged in a meadow.
Everything was quiet, still, until she was suddenly ambushed. It happened so quickly, she was more preoccupied with how she hadn't even heard them. The stabs were relentless on her, tearing through her pelt. She yelped in surprise, growling and snarling, snapping at the nearest arm she could before crushing down with her powerful jaws, shaking her large head back and forth before she lunged at the nearest one, fighting with tooth and claw. They were fledgling nightwalkers, young with a savage thirst for blood. It took some dancing around, but they got the hint that she wasn't simply going to roll over. Vivienne held her own, but sustained several open wounds and was left, panting and shaking with fatigue in her dire wolf form.
She concealed herself underneath some brush, deciding to take a moment to recuperate before she attempted to return back to the den.
Vivienne Moore has lost count. For as long as she has been alive, the wolves of the region had fought with the undead or nightwalker's as they preferred calling them. They kept their conflict away from humans as best as possible, but there were occasions where it was unavoidable, that innocent blood was spilled. The wolves of the region distrusted the reigning family of vampires, just as the distrust was reciprocated for them. One thing that the Alpha scorned was the nightwalker's need for blood, most preferring humans. The wolves felt tasked with defending the human's from these 'bloodsuckers' as they were crudely called. Rather than question the conflict, she obediently followed the suggestion of her pack leader, who was fearless and a strong leader, alongside with his mate, the Alpha female.
The night had intended to be like any other, save that she was hunting on her own after the rest of her pack had been called away to investigate suspicious activities. She transformed, allowing the surge of energy to flow through her as she resumed her lupine state she preferred to hunt it. There were three forms her kind could assume: human, total wolf, and a hybrid between the first, but the final form was for special occasions and drained the most out of them. Her pelt, a rustic almost auburn brown, shimmered beneath the moonlight as she silently stalked her prey, a doe that quietly foraged in a meadow.
Everything was quiet, still, until she was suddenly ambushed. It happened so quickly, she was more preoccupied with how she hadn't even heard them. The stabs were relentless on her, tearing through her pelt. She yelped in surprise, growling and snarling, snapping at the nearest arm she could before crushing down with her powerful jaws, shaking her large head back and forth before she lunged at the nearest one, fighting with tooth and claw. They were fledgling nightwalkers, young with a savage thirst for blood. It took some dancing around, but they got the hint that she wasn't simply going to roll over. Vivienne held her own, but sustained several open wounds and was left, panting and shaking with fatigue in her dire wolf form.
She concealed herself underneath some brush, deciding to take a moment to recuperate before she attempted to return back to the den.