--Terror Itself

Pet Name: Wingedwolf
Owner: Krisella
Theme / Type: Terror Ahbruis
Born: August 27, 2012
Gender: Female
Mood: Mad

MisticPal Name: Crow King
MisticPal Age: 4412 Days

Battle Portal Stats

Level: 9
Hit Points: 76 / 76
Strength: 31
Defense: 0
Speed: 26
Intellect: 23
Misticpower: 52

Books Read

Books Read: 5/373 [ View Books ]

Exotic Foods Eaten

Foods Eaten: 25/1254 [ View Foods ]

--Tale of Terror and Power

She scratched and sniffed at the box with curiosity... and discontent. Wingedwolf never enjoyed surprises when it dropped in-front of her, no matter how tempting the treasures nestled inside could be. Whisp-like tendrils leaked from the box's red jaws, she sniffed once more then sneezed, hating the smell. Something was not right about this box at all she decided with a final shake of her head. As she began to turn her back from the box the tendrils shot out at her, grabbing at her paws and neck. A feeling swelled within her chest, a feeling she had not felt in ages after she had been enlightened into a sacred order. It was terror, that slow rising fear of knowing Death was in-front of one's face, that deafening echo of one's heart pounding inside the chest and ears, that slow knowing horrible realization.... that there is no escaping.

The red box's jaws opened, releasing more of this eerie feeling, engulfing the young wolf. She struggled against it to no avail, snapping her teeth at the tendrils only to find that she was biting into herself. There was no howl, no whimper, not even a growl as she gave in. Maybe it is all just a nightmare she thought to herself. A desperate hope for a desperate being, foolish.... and redundant.

It seemed ages of being in the dark, withdrawn inside her conscious, before she started to blink her eyes once more. At first she didn't recognize the simple movement of the body function and then it startled her. She could move again, but something felt odd. Each strut felt more like a fluid motion, that there was something more in just a simple steps she kept taking. That terror-like feeling long forgotten, what had happen exactly? She couldn't place what oddity had become of her. Wingedwolf looked down at the pool of water she subconsciously had followed to, ready to take long laps of the refreshing liquid to quench what caused her such a thirst. Glowing crimson eyes starred back up at her, tattooed marked legs, and a mane of red and black. Hastily, she moved back away from the pool shaking her head, then began to turn in quick circles... looking for the creature. She looked back down, frozen, knowing she had become that Terror.

Those steps, that feeling she couldn't quite remember.... it was not Confidence, but Power. A power fully knowing of the Terror she can cause, that she can be, that she is.