where did i go wrong, tackle?

[b e r n e s e .]

P R O S P E R .
where did i go wrong
i lost a friend

The air was damp and silent. The sun wasn’t showing through the thick fog. The snow under paw was crunchy after days of it just laying there and not disappearing, and it was a few inches thick. It covered every blade of sharp green grass, making the earth look like it just got invaded by color-sucking aliens. The ground had many prints from all of the forest animals, some fresh and some very old, from a week or two ago. The trees were black and nearly lifeless looking from the winter breeze, branches swaying, showing off. For miles around, there were no leaves that any one could see, and it was rather frightening. Crunching through the white powder with disgust was a Siberian husky-looking wolf with glittering blue eyes that pierced the dying scene. The tundra wolf was born to live in this kind of land, but he loathed the winter just like he hated the other packs for fighting: Retronym and Colcannon. The sun was his type, even though it looked like it would be the worst. His thick, black-and-white fur blew gently in the breeze. White splotches were dotted on his chest like a Doberman, and he had white tufts of fur on his stomach. His tail had an ivory splash on it, his ears had white inside of them, and his muzzle had silver hairs on it- not from being old, because he was good in years, around four, just from birth he looked like that. His paws were bathed in snowy white, which were also very over-sized, like his large head. His tail always curled over his pack, making others always mistake him for a stupid dog. He was a wolf; his family didn’t even have the tainted blood of a human toy, and he was thankfully glad. He rolled his ice-patch lanterns, knowing that he would surely kill himself if he was a husky. Not like he had anything against dogs, but they were so… obedient. It was disgusting the way some dog looked up at a human with trust in his or her eyes. He crossly cursed under his breath and sat down on the crunchy snow, something he usually never did. He looked angrily at the twisted, black trees that were all knotted together, working as one to block out the sunlight in the living forest. Snow-covered bushes jutted their way from him seeing the horizon line, along with the stupid trees.

So he sat there, on his fluffy haunches, looking very pissed off at the situation- that he all of the sudden starting thinking about humans and their toys. When he was a young pup, he lived very far away from this forest, with a two adult humans and their baby. The cub human was so small, the size of Prosper when he was on all fours right now. A couple of weeks passed with his humans, who called him Rascal, and he was so happy. He trusted those humans to look after him, but one day they packed up all of their things and left, forgetting their puppy. Whether it was an accident or not, the heartbroken pup, who was around five moons old, was later picked up by a white truck with was called animal control. He was stolen by men dressed in white, thrown in two cages, and left alone to rust and fade black and blue. But one day, after three horrible nights, a woman dropped by his cage and smiled. Thinking that she was just going to strut off like all of the others, she pointed at him and told a man that she wanted him, and then took him away on another long drive, only this one took a day. The new person called him Prosper, thus his last name that he would ever have, making him always remember the pain that he endured. He lived with that kind, jolly woman until he was one year old, and then she left, too, like the other family. Knowing what was coming next; he dug a large hole in the backyard and escaped, running fifteen miles in the snow to this very forest. He never trusted retarded humans since, and turned down the soft and easy life of a house pet, a human toy, a pet, a human pet, to be owned by someone else. Snarl on his face, he continued to stare innocently at the ground, yet wishing to rip the lungs from a human- any one, it didn’t matter, so that they would feel his pain. He sighed warily, knowing that he must get back to his pack quickly, just in case a new canine came knocking on his door.

He wasn't in the mood for passing restlessly up and down like a regular alpha, so he quickly stood to his feet and padded forward, straight into a clearing where anyone could see him and approach him. As the alpha of Nepenthes, he was supposed to find some members for his newly developed pack, but he felt to angry at the stupid humans to do anything right. He needed to get revenge on them, show them what it was like to be stuck in a cage, unloved, knowing that your life would be cut off at any day- the day that you weren't fed. How it was like to live when you only got meals when you were given them, which was twice a day. He needed to show them how sad it was, and how much pain he had endured, and still was coming across. Was it just him, or was he going a bit... crazy? He shook his pelt roughly, and then sat down in the middle of the small clearing. He could smell the Retronym border close by, wafting over his nostrils and making him sneeze at the horrible smell. Lips curled to show the world his teeth, he wondered, I wonder if I should change my name. After all, that woman that left me gave me it. I should give myself a better, more suitable name, like... Er... Humankiller, or Personbitter. Something along those lines instead of stupid old Prosper. What does it mean anyway? The human gave it to me... Is it some sort of human word? It needs to be better. It still confused him why someone would call him Prosper. And why did he still keep the cursed name?

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Word Count: 1154
Puppet: Prosper
Music: The Fray
OOC: Wow. Not as rusty as I thought. XD

[tackle]

T A C K L E

I may be just a wolf.
But I don't need a hero.

A deathly wind sucked at every happy soul. Twigs lurched and turned, barely ever staying still. Wind sucked up the twigs, making them fall to the ground with a SNAP - CRACKLE - THUD. This kept happening of course. SNAP - CRACKLE - THUD. This easily annoyed any dog of any sorts. A thin fog settled in over the ominous land. Leaf-less branches never stopped moving. Something just wasn't right though. It was just.. too quiet. Way too quiet.

Eerie silence didn't last for long though. Oh no it didn't. Swift blurs flashed across anyone's eyes. Finally, the figure sharpened. Yes it was a female. She padded quick, and slow either at either times. Her jet-black jacket pulled over her creamy white pelt. Her pelt shone bright in the fog, covered in a thin layer of water since the fog made her wet a bit. Her deep amber, orb like optics reflected her past.

"The sky was a bright blue. Everything seemed happy. But everything wasn't. Tackle moved forward but she knew that she had to "report" to her mother. She knew her mother had gone slightly insane. It was hormones and heat. It was Summer of course. The birds playing a fun lullaby. She opened her jaw a bit, foam leaking out as she moved forward. And there was her mother. Her pelt was a silver-gray with brown mixed in. She paced back and forth. "The packs... They are coming for me." she growled in her half.. far away voice I guess you would call it.

Tackle glared at her mother. "What would they want with a piece of crap like you?" she growled. She looked at her mother, quickly expecting an answer, but her mother just stared straight ahead. "Tackle, I haven't told you everything." she sighed. "I was once in Colcannon. You father in Nepenthes. I was alphess once, a long time ago. That was when your father died. I was supposed to become a gamma.. but instead they drove me out." she sighed. Tackle snarled. "What do I care about that?!" she hissed. "I am saying that you are half-blood. The best pack you should go in is Retronym." she said

Tackle nodded and lunged at her mother. "I am not going in a pack." She snorted. "You will one day, I just know it." she smiled softly and dodged when Tackle lunged at her. "Who said I want to be a Retronym prisoner?! They have no brains and you know it. Its Nepenthes who hold the power!" she half talked to herself. "I am not going to join a pack mother. I would rather gang up with a bunch of other loners and plant a attack against all of the packs." She looked to her paws, drawing out the marks with her claws.

"One by one." she grinned. Her mother glared at her. "OH NO YOU WON'T!" she screamed. "THE PACKS ARE IMPORTANT TO YOU AND ITS WHERE YOU BELONG!" Tackle snorted. "Mom, your going insane." And with that she spun around and padded away. But her mother leaped at her and yanked her back. "Don't leave me until I die." she ordered. Tackle snorted. "You aren't gonna die for another three years!"

Her mother had offically gone insane. "DON'T LEAVE ME! DON'T." she growled. Tackle attempted to run away, but turned around and attacked her mother. And finally she tasted the first blood she had ever tasted. He held her mother down by the neck and then had killed her mother like a piece of prey. Tackle shrugged and bounded away. She grinned, a wicked grin. And then she bounded off. On her way, she met a stupid pack dog and he invited her into his pack, and she didn't refuse and then she was in the pack she always wanted to be in."

The whole thing reflected in her eyes. She grinned wickedly. She could still taste the blood. She pranced forward, deeper into her pack's territory. She bounded over twigs and stones, and climbed over logs and fallen trees. This was definetly a difficult Winter. She flicked her audits, sensing the pack alpha. She had never met him. She was accepted into the pack though.

She just went onward, not caring if she had gone to the scent or just walked away. She looked around at the lifeless branches, the scents filling her nostrils. She felt good about this. If she met him, he would know that she was pure evil. She might be made head-hunter or something. She didn't know. She just shrugged and moved on, her muscles rippling under her pelt.

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[b e r n e s e .]

P R O S P E R .
i wanna scream "i love you" from the top of my lungs...
but i'm afraid that someone else would hear me...

Ivory-dipped jaws stretched wide into a yawn, exposing yellow, sharp teeth. Boredom splayed out before his life, making the day seem colder, the seconds stretched, the minutes drag by much slower. Prosper sighed warily, wondering what he should call himself if he did happen to change his name. Whenever he had been born by a milk-smelling dog, he had been called Pup1, whatever that meant. He assumed that meant he was his mother's favourite, or maybe it was because he was born first. Whenever he was taken from his first family, the one with his brothers and sisters, he had been called Rascal for his never dieing wildness. After that home, the jolly women had called him Prosper, and it just stuck. He actually kinda liked the name, it sounded like Frostfur, or a winter time name, cold, like his personality. For once, his bushy tassel wagged back and forth in delight. But it stopped as soon as it had come, so once more he was bored. He stared down at his paws and dug his claws into the mushy soil, making large scratch marks into the springy earth. He swung his head up and glared at the foggy sky, still not able to see the shining yellow orb of light which he called the sun. He knew that it must be there- it was still a bit too light to be nighttime, but he didn't know if it was the afternoon or morning. He woke up when it was blurry, so he didn't know. It seemed as if the earth was grieving for his past. Prosper looked around at the small clearing and saw nothing but twisting, winding trees smearing with the fog and creating a chocolate colour. The bushes were dotted with sparkling white powder, dappling more ivory onto his black fur. His Siberian husky appearance twitched as he smelled a familiar scent, but pushed it away. It was probably just the fog that was making his nose messed up again.

Mmm. I need a better name. I know that I shouldn't call myself Humankiller, Personbitter, or anything like that because that would attract too much attention. Anyway, some canines don't know what a human is, and they might think that it is a breed of dog, thus making me get in trouble and attacked by others often. So, maybe I should ask someone that I know... he told himself, but the truth was, he didn't know anyone except for Tackle, his packmate. He wasn't out of his pack much, and whenever he was, he never scented any friendly smells. All of the canines that he knew tragically died. Prosper chuckled, knowing that he was over exaggerating. He had killed one of those so-called friends. He grinned thoughtfully, a spark of evil glittering in his icy pools. Normally he wasn't as mean, but he just wanted to murder those men- or pretty much any human that crossed his path. He also knew that there weren't any humans for over fifty miles around, which would explain why the air was so clean here, free from the metal monsters of hell in the city. The humans rode in the belly of the shiny things, which was kinda strange. And whenever a tall, big human went into the front of the roaring monster, it thundered like a very hungry animal. He growled under his breath, loathing them even more for being so stupid all of the time. Some pets even liked riding in them! He shuddered, shaking off his thoughts for a moment while he pondered about a name. Mmm. I kinda like the name Austin. Or Hawthorn. Maybe I'll ask Tackle what she thinks- is she is around here anywhere. She shouldn't be; she should be guarding the camp like a good member. Not like we have anything to protect there- Nepenthes doesn't have members, pups, or prey, because Tackle and I catch our own like a couple of loners would. He sighed warily, then looked up, icy pools blazing with a warm yet cold fire.

Word Count: 781
Puppet: Prosper
Music: We The Kings
OOC: Ehh. This post is okay... :/ Could do better, but I'm kinda museless.

[tackle]

T A C K L E
I may be just a wolf.
But I don't need a hero.

( OOC ;; Again, I apoligize for my inactivity. -blush- )


She sagged her shoulders, her prickly yet somehow soft fur getting blown by the gentle breeze. Her lungs vibrated and she opened her jaw, drips of saliva dripping out and her eyes narrowing and sharpening. Finally, she turned to the left. After each step she took, twelve trees were out of view and thirteen were newly visible. Of course she knew her numbers. Did she believe in curses? Not so much.. but thirteen had a hard ring to it that would make a pup scream horribly. Now, she leaned to the left, her optics blinked horribly. And then she finally reached the border of Nepenthes territory. She didn't dare lean over. The scents over the border made her feel sick.

Many flashbacks still haunted her mind. Like when she had attacked a loner that begged for silent mercy. That loner learned her lesson. They were her slave for about a year, until they died of sickness.. but what Tackle called "an accident". She flicked her audit and then thought about talking to Prosper again. They hadn't talked lately. She padded next to the border, like it was a lone friend pacing at her side. She grinned harshly and then turned to the side, now halfway around the whole territory.

Her heartbeat pulsed in her ears. Adrenaline. She was ready for anything.

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[b e r n e s e .]

P R O S P E R .
give me attention.
i need it now.

The fog swirled around me threateningly, almost taunting me with it's unforgivingness. I could hardly see my own paws. It was like hell in a world of being blind. Might as well be a newborn pup with my eyes, or maybe it was just the earth. I could hardly smell anything good, and whenever I did, I thought my nose was just playing with me again. Sometimes I even ran out toward the smell- whether a Tackle smell, bear smell, or a prey smell- and bit at the air, whatever it was. My stomach growled as I thought of freshly caught caribou. My mouth watered as I walked through the dense forest. I could tell that I was somewhere near the Retronym border, but I didn't know from my nose. I shook my head stupidly. Not like it mattered if I crossed the border, because the evil pack had no alpha, which only made them look more weak. Colcannon had an alpha male named Halcyon, and of course, Nepenthes had an alpha, which was me. I grinned thoughtfully. I was proud to be a leader, but then again, it was too much work. I only had myself and Tackle on my back, and already I was exhausted from the pressure. I sighed unevenly and walked along the border of the territory, casting glances at the deep wooded territory. It was silent, and not even the birds chirped. They were probably scared that a Retronym giant would pop up and gobble them all up.

I sighed under my breath, then suddenly scented a new dog, or maybe it was a wolf... Anyway, I could tell that it was a Nepenthes canine. My bushy, black-and-white tail smacked against the ground. Delighted but frustrated that Tackle had made her way from the pack camp, I bounded toward the smell, not knowing whether or not my blackened nose was messing up from the fog or not. I raced forward at high speed, and from the distance, I saw a faint, ebony-coloured figure. It could be Tackle, but I didn't want to be too open. For all I knew, it could be a Retronym wolf on the wrong side of the border. I sniffed the air once more, but all I smelled was my pack and my neighbor's. I shook my pelt and called out cautiously, "Who are you, and what pack do you belong in?" Normally I- a natural borne alpha- would tell the character my name first to the stranger, but I was too frightened to. What if it decided to attack? I knew that I shouldn't be such and omega wolf, but I had to be careful. More wolves wanted to kill a leader more than anything for a lot of reasons.

Word Count: 519
Puppet: Prosper
Music: None
OOC: I have NO muse.

[tackle]

T A C K L E

I may be just a wolf.
But I don't need a hero.

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I set my paws on the ground, the thin and dead sticks harshed my paw pads, making me barre my teeth in anger. Why did my nerves have to be so sensitive? I didn't mind that pain that hurt.. but what if it didn't? What if I was immortal?

I was gladly a aggressive dog. I loved to scare strangers of all sorts. I grinned softly, raising my cranium gracefully. Yes, I was graceful, perfect blood for strong and well known pups. I would also be a perfect leader. Prosper and me never really spoke. One day I just happened to wander onto the lands and was somehow welcomed into the pack. I remembered it rarely, just thinking about it made me even more curious.

Why would Prosper let a no good loner into the pack? I shrugged and flicked my ear. I was trouble. I was about the same age as Prosper, but would he be able to control me? I flinched my shoulder, and I continued to move over the border, only glancing in the land once or twice for prey. It was obviously scarce. I then heard another dog. Prosper.

"Who are you, and what pack do you belong in?" I spun around, glancing at him, cocking my head to the left. His voice like melted honey, smooth, silky, yet like a baying howl at the same time. His voice was also like a god's. He also looked like one. Could I like him possibly more than just a leader?

"Tackle," I stated crossly. "Nepenthes, remember?" I added.


- - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Puppet ;; TACKLE
Muse ;; Its flowing.
Song ;; Hero -- Skillet
OOC ;; Hehe I got jealous by your I's. XD

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[b e r n e s e .]

.:. P R O S P E R .:.
honestly, can you believe
we crossed the world while it's asleep ?

I bet I looked like a confused mutt, all terrified, fur bristling like a porcupine or something. I hoped that this foggy creature would tell me its name. My nose pointed into the air immediately, scenting that this animal was a female. It smelled a lot like a Nepenthes wolf, and more in particular, Tackle. I had to be careful, though. This canine could have killed my pack member and rolled around in my camp so that I would be confused, like I was now. I cocked my fluffy, black-and-white head to the right, perked ears turning dog like. My cyan coloured eyes gleamed silver in the fog as they caught a glint of the sun, or perhaps it was the moon. Shaking it off of my pelt, I kept one lantern on my paws and the other on the loner. I pondered on what I would call myself whenever I changed my name. Crescendo sounded so smooth, so perfect. I think I'll make that be my name, but later, though. Next moon, maybe, or whenever Nepenthes is more... well-known. When it has ten or so members. I shook my head and concentrated on the other canine. It was much too foggy to tell who it was, or what it's fur colour was, because all that I could see was black. My shoulders slumped, then I called out once more, "Hello?" Only it sounded like a pup, all squeaky and high-pitched.

Finally, it replied to me. At first I thought that it was my imagination, that the voice was just popping in my head, but as the fog cleared a bit more, I saw Tackle. A bit surprised, I heard her bark her words. I grinned stupidly, embarrassed, yet for some reason so full of delight that my pack member had come to my rescue. I sat down on my thick, handsome haunches and continued to smile like a crazy hyena. My long, blackened claws sunk into the spongy soil, tail smacking with the snow, mixing it, making it go into the air like white dust particles. "Oh, I'm sorry Tackle. My nose always gets messed up with this silly fog swirling around me. Ain't it annoying?" I asked, barking almost to fast that I was afraid that Tackle wouldn't be able to understand me. "It's nice to meet you," I added, calming down a bit so that she wouldn't think that I was always like this. After all, this was my first encounter with the lovely, beautiful Tackle. I straightened his posture, making my tail slow down into a stop. I kept his grin, but made the tips of it move down a bit. Trying to start some sort of conversation with her, I murmured, "So... Tackle. What brings you so close to the Retronym border?" Caution filled his voice, wrapping it all around, and he couldn't stop her from hearing it. Since he didn't know the canine, she could actually be a spy from Retronym, or just be a sick joke. "Never mind. I'd bet you'd be wandering the exact same thing as me. We are still in open land, after all." He suddenly heard the rustling sound of prey, and he sniffed the air. So now his nostrils were working, mmm? It was a rabbit. He turned back to Tackle, and raised an eyebrow. "Care for a hunt?"

Word Count: 658
Mannequin: Prosper
Music: Paramore
OOC: lol, coolio. at least you didn't copy me like my cousin did!

[tackle]

T A C K L E

I, was more on the independent side. Yes, I did enjoy friends, but I would rather be alone. Still wondered why I had come into these packs. Still, I could be nice. I tried. I can't help but be a bitch sometimes. What I am, what I do. I widened my gaze as he spoke quickly. I barely caught his words, running them over in my head over and over to make sure I got them right and clearly. I smiled, well I tried, in a friendly way. I flicked my ear towards him, gently setting my rump on the ground. I noticed the cautiousness of his voice. Did he really not trust me?

"You can never be too safe."

she said quickly, blinking at him gently. After she had quickly spoke, she had heard the scuttling on feet on the cold winter ground, no more than a unfixed sheet in a four year old's bedroom. Small paws quickly pulled the small animal up onto higher mounds of snow. She used her ears to listen for the prey. It was looking through the shaved branches of a shrub. She looked at Prosper quickly, licking her lips. She leaped up in mid air and with a flurry of movements, she finally slowed down and looked faithfully at Prosper, a plumpish rat dangling from her jaws. She was completely prepared for a hunt.

"Sounds fun. Sure." she answered him. She respectfully looked at him, and got up from her haunches, and took a few steps down the small dirt path they were walking on. "Oh, and its nice to meet you too." she answered while the plump mouse was still clenched in her jaws.

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