I am a Beast

Dipper

Dipper

???
Original poster
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Posting Speed
  1. One post per day
  2. 1-3 posts per week
  3. One post per week
Online Availability
Shake a tin of dice and tell me what numbers they give you.
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Advanced
  3. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
Genres
Sci-Fi, Fantasy, an assortment of others. Ask and you shall receive (an answer).
[BCOLOR=transparent]Sharp black claws sunk deep into the soft gleysol with each step as he ran, traction pulling him forward and closer to his target with terrifying speed. His once pristine mocha fur had been matted into a horrid brown like that of the monster he'd been chasing off, his well cared for claws caked with dirt and dried blood. The creature had wandered too close to his[/BCOLOR] hunting grounds, much too close to the humans who had settled there and provided him with a steady supply of food. They were his, and a good hunter always protected his prey. It would not get off easy if it chose to turn and fight.

[BCOLOR=transparent]As the massive brown creature disappeared into the foliage, Lukas ceased his chase and lifted his snout to sniff at the sweet scent pervading the air around him. Forest, evening embers, salted meats. But there was also something foreign and new lingering between the familiar smells, a scent that agitated his powerful hunter's senses and alerted him to possible danger. Deep in his throat rose a warning growl, guttural, firm, and threatening to any who would dare wish him harm. The humans knew better than to come after him, wearing foreign leathers and furs and drenched in oils.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]He opened his maw to speak, sharp canines shimmering in the moonlight and voice unused in this form. "You are... trespassing on Alpha territory. Leave now, and your innards may be spared."[/BCOLOR]

Lukas' massive head swung around to face the newcomer, yellow eyes glinting dangerously.

----

(Please provide a quick description of your character above your response. Anything is allowed, but other werewolves, or humans, are preferred! Male or female, romance or not, it's all good here. Also, I'd prefer a response equal to what I post, but length is not absolutely necessary if you don't want. Just decent grammar, spelling, the good stuff!)
 
The female stayed on all fours in her wolf form, rather nonchalantly through the alpha's male growl. Her fur was a beautifully rare cream colored coat that consisted of also having a deep 'gold' color on her ears and she crouched her head as her tail was low as well, those golden ears folding back. The Spanish first called her 'El lobo de oro' or 'the golden wolf' while the French nicknamed her 'Le loud d'or'. Nicknames didn't matter, but she was prized and she was indeed considered the beauty because of that unique fur of hers. It was unlike any other wolf, therefore she was easy to spot out by hunters. However she was known to 'cheat death' by setting off traps without getting trapped in most cases, often leaving hunters and humans bewildered. She was a type of mythical creature.. Or a living legend.

It would be seen, then, that this female wolf was throughly well-known to the humans, especially those who hunt. Maybe to wolves even. One story was that she caught an antelope for another pack. For some odd reason, she didn't join packs. When she did, it would only last for a few days before she left on her own again.

The wolf stepped closer. Staring at his gold eyes with her Hazel ones. She was quite observant, as she quietly yet throughly in the process sniffed the air meticulously. Then the dark black line of her muzzle opened, as she spoke back."Sorry.. I do not mean to disturb or intrude.." She politely said, backing a few steps away--A good two feet before sitting down. Her tail curving around her front paws. He had a large supply of food. Most wolves ate then left the carcass, and the cream coated wolf was willing to wait and hopefully eat the scraps."I'll keep my distance and wait." The female added. But she also had her own guard up as well, unbeknownst of the other wolf who would probably mean to strike her any minute now. For a female, even she was strong enough to fight against a male alpha. After all, she was a loner. And female loners were rare.

Her name was Eloa.​
 
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His gaping maw snapped shut shut with a soft click, his stance shifting in the cool grass. The smell was of a female, he knew now, his sensitive ears perking and twitching at the sound of her voice. But what, he wondered, was a female doing way out here? A lone female, of all things! Lukas' chest rumbled in amusement, his tail swishing in rhythm with with each breath. Maybe she had come from one of the isolated packs up north and thought it wise to go off on her own. But if she had managed to avoid the hatred of the many humans here, had learned of these fruitful hunting grounds, then perhaps that assumption was incorrect. He would find out sooner or later.

"Disturbing, no. Intruding, yes," he growled. "Your scent is unfamiliar, and this is my land. From where do you originate, female?"

Lukas' frame remained tense and stiff throughout their interaction, his eyes focused intently on the other before him with an air of wary suspicion. Her coat was impressive beneath the silver light of the moon, especially in comparison with his own muddied fur. But he was a fickle beast, and so looks would hardly keep him intrigued for very long.
 
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Of course. OF COURSE! This happens!

Reaver thought to himself as he hid behind a large bush teeming with foliage. He wasn't sure why he was surprised. Luck hadn't been on his side since Alexander drank that poisoned wine.
Stupid prick thought he owned the world just because he had a big army and tons of wome- No. Focus Reaver.

He had to be careful. Reaver may have been over 2000 years old, but in this state he could hardly hold his own against simple muggers. And these were werewolves.

"Your scent is unfamiliar, and this is my land. From where do you originate, female?"
As the wolf man spoke, Reaver took a puzzled look.

THAT'S a female? Wow.

Reaver waited for the female to respond; hoping that she would lose her initial warrant for peace. The only thing Reaver didn't want to face right now more than a werewolf would be two werewolves. If they cooperated, it wouldn't be long before they picked up his scent. At least that part of his curse was helpful. His scent was unlike that of any human or animal, although the curse made him both and neither. That made it harder for creatures to identify it as a scent. How long could it possibly be? These forced changes didn't usually last long, but there had been plenty cases where that wasn't true.

Just stay down, be ready, and above all: look intimidating.

Who was he kidding? At this moment, his life was completely in the hands of these werewolves, or even worse, luck. But maybe the tides of fate would shift in his favor. Who knows? Maybe werewolves didn't like the taste of penguins.
 
Lukas halted all movement suddenly and directed his attention to the faint sound of rustling, his head low as his keen golden eyes searched the foliage. He bared his teeth in anger, ears flattening against his head. What had this female led to his hunting grounds? What kind of menagerie of monsters had infiltrated his territory? A low growl vibrated discordantly from his throat, pausing momentarily to sniff the air again and assure himself that this newcomer would either leave willingly or be chased off.

Besides, he thought. The entrails of a new kill would surely deter any adventurers.

What bothered him was the acrid stench-- the smell of a female was not new to him, simply unusual in these parts. He knew the odor of humans, the sweat and salt a byproduct of their labor. But this was unfamiliar to him entirely, and stung his nose like the peppered vegetables thrown away to rot.

Or perhaps it was an animal, scurrying beneath the foliage to hide. It had common sense, he had to admit. Perhaps it had been drenched in who knows what before building up the courage to enter these grounds.
 
This was it. Reaver could make out the figure of the wolfman beginning to examine the bush where Reaver had taken solace. Running would only make the ordeal funner for that beast.
Oh god this is it. DAMN! After everything I've done. the wars I've fought, the civilizations I've seen born and destroyed. This was how it ended?
Then Reaver felt it. That deep warm feeling inside the core of his body. Courage. If that wolfman wanted to make a meal out of him, then Reaver would at least make the extra flesh needed.
He cocked his wings back, readied to jump and screamed aloud "The Celtics called me Reaver the Cleaver!!!!" the sentence came out as a jumble of bird noises, but it was for his own sake rather than the wolfman's. As the penguin leaped from bush and toward the werewolf, his heart was warmed by the sheer surprise on the imposing figure. However, before Reaver could reach him, he felt another warm feeling inside his body. The feeling of organs expanding and cells transforming.

For the love of Odin's fat, greasy double chin.

Once the transformation was complete, Reaver rose from the ground onto his hands and knees and looked at the wolfman's vicious eyes. "Trust me, I taste terrible."
 
If Lukas found those words humorous, he didn't show it. His face was beastlike and not very expressive in this form and thus he was limited to scowling and narrowed eyes. Though he had to admit, he was curious. What kind of being was this to willingly show themself to a werewolf instead of running? Had it been an animal or human, it would have been expected.

So what was so different? A shifter would surely understand the dangers, wouldn't they?

Reaver? What a silly name.

Lukas snorted and shifted his whole body to face this... being. He was a civil werewolf if there ever was one, but had a short and fiery temper-- tearing into the flesh of those who bothered him or tested that temper had become custom when he'd claimed this land, muscles forever tense and ready to chase and maim. "How you taste matters little. Did you think I would devour something so... wrong?"
 
The half grown shifter sat in her concealed hole under the bush, thankful that Reaver, whatever he was, had a scent so powerful that it masked her own. She was also glad that she had managed to stay undetected these past few weeks, though she would have to move on soon. The fear she felt though, was overpowering. If the alpha found her, alma knew she would be killed. After all, he had already discovered two trespassers on his land. A third might make him snap and attack her. Alma thought back. Just a few weeks ago, she had been a happy girl in a northern village. But that was before she changed. All she knew was that she had started to grow fur. Beginning to panic, she had tries to call her mother, but she couldn't breathe.
Alma had blacked out, and when she awoke, all the chickens were dead, and there were feathers in her mouth. Calling her a witch, the village had kicked her out, with her family leading the charge. Alma had fled to the forest, searching for answers. How did this happen? What could be done? Was she a werewolf, or something worse?
A strand of her light brown hair fell into her face, and Alma's eyes- so dark brown they were almost black- watered. She couldn't hold back. Alma sneezed. then instantly paled, her fair skin turning white.
 
{ edit posts. Name change to eloa. Sorry for being late.. School, I'm also brain dead so sorry for shortness}

Eloa eyed the other wolf, catching the scent of another. Though she did not turn to see who exactly, she licked her lips."I was born in France. Released and came from the tundras. Went through the canyons, and am now here. My journey was a long one." Answered the girl before eyeing and listening between the two. Eloa then took the tune ​
 
Reaver jumped onto his feet like a energetic child; Near death experiences always brought a little skip to his step. "Whoa, whoa easy on racial slurs, and I'm human by the way" Reaver looked down at his exposed parts and proceeded to cover them with his hands. "Please excuse the indecency my lady" Reaver grinned at the female, knowing full well her abilities to kill surpassed his own at this moment.
This place is crazy! I came here following the rumor of a witch from that northern village and already find TWO werewolves!
Even worse, Gwenvean HATES werewolves. With all these puppies running around there's no way she's the witch from the village. Perhaps this northern witch knows something useful, I should still search for her.

"Oh my! Where are my manners? I haven't even asked you you're name yet. I'm Reaver in case that wasn't clear!"
 
There was another scent, he noticed, but he made no mention of it. Two intruders was enough, and he'd prefer to keep it that way. He looked back at Eloa curiously, still just as tense but somewhat calmed. "Journey? Are you wandering, or were you looking for something?" He asked, vaguely recalling the name of her place of origin. A country, he thinks. Much too far from here to matter much. "I do not get visitors from far away places. You must have had a pack."

He snapped his jaws at the human. Splitting his attention between two very different individuals was growing difficult for him, and trying his temper. "You made that clear. Now cover yourself up or leave my territory." Lukas' own fur was enough covering. It mattered little to him, but human bodies were less... nice to look at. He did not give his name, as doing so would be beyond indecent for his kind.

That third scent still lingered between these two new ones, somewhere behind the human. He huffed.
 
Not wanting to leave and not wanting to stay in pieces, Reaver turned around toward another cluster of bushes where he'd thrown his clothing during his original transformation into a penguin. He knelt down, and began weaving through the brush.

Better hurry, I don't think the wolf man appreciates his front row view of my behind.

Reaver continued to wade through the foliage, but to no avail. Unknowingly, Reaver was searching through bushes that didn't contain his clothing, those were strewn on the ground farther right. However, this bush contained something else.

C'mon C'mon! They have to be in here, aren't they? I could've sworn that-

It sneezed.

The bush...sneezed.

Perhaps it was the adrenaline, or the recent change back into human form that caused Reaver's eyes to just have assumed the figure was part of the ground, but there was no mistaking it anymore. He was staring directly at a young woman, a pale, terrified woman.

"Uh...I um...Hello there."
 
(Sorry guys, computer broke last few days)
Swearing in her head, Alma knew she couldn't hide any longer. She slowly crawled out of her hole, and was confronted by a face. Surprised and scared, she transformed into her wolf form on instinct. Her light gray coat was splotched by brown undertones. Her bright yellow eyes were scanning her surroundings, but she was trapped. a low growl rose in her throat, though since she was half the size of the other wolves, it wasn't nearly as frightening as she would have liked. She bared her teeth, then slowly walked around Reaver. realizing that he was naked, Alma looked toward the werewolves.
 
The young female raven soared hundreds of feet in the air, rising rapidly on a thermal. It was night, she should be asleep, but she had left her shiny thing at a wolf kill and wanted it back before another raven could claim it. She had trouble seeing in the dark, since ravens were diurnal, but she had to get her ring back. She was sure it was called a ring, anyhow.
Seeing it faintly, she glided downward gradually, then plummeted down in a steep arc. When she neared the ground, she fanned her tail to slow her descent, and then widened and lowered it as she extended her feet to a caribou horn. Leaping off, she strutted around with her head cocked to the side until she saw light glancing off a silver ring. She took it in her beak and hit the sky.
She had left the carcass far behind when she realized how hungry she was. She wished she had taken some scraps of meat, but it was safer to find shelter before an owl got her. Seeing a clearing, she looked down to see what there was. She saw what looked like three wolves and a human. The wolves looked like they'd kill the human, perhaps even eat him. That would be an easy meal for her, but only if they left scraps.
Raising her tail, she dropped down, and landed easily in a tree on the edge of the clearing to watch. She had been enchanted to speak by a witch long ago, but she had little to say except for a few hoarse caws, to alert the wolves to her presence. An sudden, unexpected appearance could trigger instincts to make the wolves attack, making her have to fly away.
 
Glancing up at the Raven, Alma knew that someone was going to die. Not wanting it to be her, she ran as fast as she could away from the others. Pushing herself, she hoped that she had surprised them long enough to escape. Straining her ears, Alma listened for any signs of pursuit. As her paws thudded on the earth, Alma darted in a zig-zag pattern through the forest, making sharp turns to lose anyone in pursuit.
 
The raven watched as one wolf ran away. That wasn't normal behavior at all.... Was she perhaps a witch? Curiosity got the better of her, and she took off after the wolf. She could get back to the others later. She cleared her throat, then spoke. "What are you? Why are you running away?"
 
It speaks! Stopping in her tracks, Alma turned towards the raven. After a small bark, Alma focused and managed to transform back into a human. Her long brown hair that went down to her ankles wasn't brushed, and with a look of embarrassment her dark green eyes looked at the small bird. "Sorry about that. I don't know what I am. All I know is that I'm a monster. How is it that you can speak?"
 
"I thought maybe you'd think I was mimicking a human I'd heard," she said, mentally frowning, then added, "I was enchanted by a witch many seasons ago." She still had the ring in one foot, and tossed it, and it landed in the grass. She swooped down and hooked it on her beak, and tossed her head so it went around her neck. She took off again to land on a branch and watch the human, who seemed to be a shapeshifter.
 
"Well, I don't know about you, but I feel like some food. Care to join me?" Without waiting for an answer, Alma shifted back into a wolf and began searching for prey, the other wolves and Reaver forgotten. Scenting deer, She plunged into the plant life and moved downwind of the herd.
 
"Heh hee hee hah..." The sinister trademark laugh echoed faintly in Alma's ears. Crim had been watching her as well as the others, especially that cursed Lukas. Long ago HE ruled the humans! Not that annoying pretty boy werewolf! Long ago "The Azure Serpent" would be fed every day or the youngest child would suffer his poison. But then he showed up like he owned the place, killing and eating his personal buffet! He hadn't eaten properly in years. And he couldn't do anything about it. Why? Because a snake, even one as deadly as he, could never kill a werewolf. But he didn't leave, he would wait for his time to come. To seek vengeance on him and retake his rightful place. But now what? Suddenly the forest is packed with weirdos! He wouldn't stand for this. They needed to be exterminated. This one had dashed of and seemed to be hunting for food, so focused on it she didn't even notice him coming up. He slithered underneath her wrapping his slender body around her legs. Then he reached her head and pulled up to face her. "Now who do we have here?"
 
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