``origins || open

[»Ιmαgε]

S A Y A N G

Winter's cold grip had finally settled on the land. Snow drifts were scattered around the open, worn down grass sticking through the light blanket of white. Today was a rare day for Dachau's standards; only a few wolves were moving about the square and only two larger groups were conversing in depth. The sunlight was strangely harsh though, bright, unwavering in the chilly atmosphere. Black nails clipped a sour, out of place song as a new soul walked through the land. Foreign in all aspects.

Sayang was one of a different breed. Her chalky white coat was smooth, short, fine. Delicate and so vastly strange when compared to the bulky, chunky, course fur and builds of the wolves. She almost blended into the surrounding scenery, except one sore point stuck out, pulling her into life, into something tangible. Black, obsidian splotches dotted her coat, making a statement more loud that the loudest shout. It usually had the ability to stop crowds, to cause overwhelming responses, both good and bad. It was a gift and a plague. It had been there her whole life and because she was different, because she stood out, Sayang had been in numerous, unrelenting experiences. Her life story could most probably be a movie. The movie of a downcast, out beaten, out played individual just trying to make their mark.

In another world Sayang would have been loved for her strange spots, adored and cuddled beneath warm blankets. She would have been groomed, brushed, fussed with between shows, held under a lamp to get even the smallest speck of dirt away from her pure satin coat. Paraded through the ring, a blue ribbon placed upon her collar to show her worth. Her handler would have laughed, cheered, as he was given the award, stroked Sayang with a joyous hand. If only she had been in another world. Now she struggled against her own dignity to keep her head high as she slipped through the Sortiron, her eyes clamping instinctively shut as she felt the stares begin. Silence. It was a constant companion, and she shivered as the wind blew ruthlessly hard across the dead earth, as if telling her that nature had not intended for her to ever turn out the way she did.

"Hey, pretty miss. Care for a place over here with me? I'll take good care of you. I'll, I'll--"

A ragged, tawny looking wolf stumbled over to Sayang, a stench of dead meat following in his wake. Saya cringed backwards, a yelp on the tip of her tongue. But it wouldn't come. She stayed silent, like the air that followed her as she tried to slip away, the wolf coming closer and closer with every step. She moved right. He followed, she moved left. He was already there. Soon enough she was whipping left and right, a vivacious dance to escape. The female spun around, hoping to see an opening. Too late. He was on her, throwing his weight around as he sniffed her out, his breath and yellow canines inches from her neck. Sayang let loose a soft whimper, her tail tucked in fear between her thin, delicate legs. This body was not meant for a terrain like this. She was out matched here, and unless she was able to run, she was given no hope of freedom. Even then she was no free. For the wolf held endurance in his lean legs while her only ally was a good, fast sprint. That was her luck.

"Lovely coat. Simply sheer--ahh. A good one for tonight, of course..."

His voice trailed off as his eyes locked on hers. hocolate gazed in a soft yellow, yellow like the sun. But the sun was kind and the soul that resided in these irises was not compatible with the honest, great light. Sayang tried a threatening growl. It started somewhat formidable at first and then it fluttered out, send off by a quick grin from the male. He was laughing at her and her helpless self. Chuckling, with his hoarse voice, making a comedy of an outsider. Anger bubbled, erupted inside. She'd had enough of the jokes. The suffering, the agony. It was always about being different on the outside. Like the view mattered? She was different. And different was not always good.

With a snarl comparable to a wolf, Sayang pulled back her fore paw, releasing all her tension in one fell slash. It cut him right above the mouth, the pain taking a moment in being recognized in him. Sayang watched with a snide grin, beaming as he retreated from the blow. Surprise laced his face and astonishment could be found too. But it lasted seconds before he lunged forward, his teeth centered over her muzzle, the pressure starting. Sayang pulled back, but it increased, the intensity of his force almost unbearable. Once again they found each other in the eyes, hers now full of a dead respect, shivering to find what would come. But it never came. Soon enough he dropped his grip, spitting on the earth before him and letting loose a deadly howl that shook the dalmatian to the core. Get out. It spread through her head, what he was trying to communicate. And don't come back, dog.

Sayang growled in response, her mind spinning. Where else could she go? She'd been promised a pack. A new life. This was all she had. Sobibor was in ruins. There was no life for her there. North, maybe. But it was cold enough here and she couldn't take the life of snow much longer. Somehow her legs moved swiftly away from the wolf before he could openly insult her. She moved along, shaken and distraught. This had been her only chance. Gazing along, Sayang spotted a large rock a bit away. Around it swarmed more wolves; why hadn't she seen it before now? Maybe they could help. Sprinted, moving, Sayang made her way closer to the rock. Wolves were talking in low tones, discussing habits of some sort. Was this where she would be sorted? Or maybe she was being nieve; there was no "Sortiron" as the wolf had said. Thre was only one way to find out.

"I've come to join Dachau. To be sorted."

It was a statement, a clear indicator of her needs. And once again silence granted her words. The wolves looked around, stared as she waited for a response. Didn't they hear her?

"I need a pack. You know...? Like. Like a home."

Home. What did that word mean to them? Ha. They kept gawking, their eyes almost in disbelief. Maybe she wasn't close enough to being acceptable for a pack. Maybe, maybe she'd never find her place. Here she was, looking for a "home" in the company of wolves. Oh, the insanity.

COMMENTS ||

Geesh. It failed at the beginning. Then it got considerably better before I found I was rambling and then tried to end it. Soo, yeah. Image's posts summed up in a few sentences, haha. Good Luck. Trying to sort her, I mean. I've no idea. I was actually considering Dunen, cause I was going to give up Alpha, but.... hm.

[Pocket Kitsune]

Twin baleful eyes stared out upon the square. Eyes that had stolen the splendor of the most polished and refined Tiger's Eye stone and locked their smoldering depths of ocher and glinting saffron into pale shadows of that blazing stone's glory. They blinked only once, in perfect synchronicity with each other, like the mechanisms of some finely tuned and minute gears within a watch. Even in the winter, they whispered in the same shifting tongues of the dunes. Holding memories of sun stippled and hardened clay and silty earth. A glorious riot of summer, even in the bland grays of winter.

Citali stood upon the Sorting rock, the wind weaving through the male's short pelt like the thin toothed side of a blade, and causing him no little discomfort. The cold had always been a point of contention for the brute--for his breed was suited for sun and nights cloaked in full regalia of humidity so thick that it weighed like mist upon the tongue and sent the grass sparkling with perfect opalescence. No, the winter did not do him any favors to speak of.

Nor did his age. By spring, he would be entering his fifth winter. And though the Zielle was far from an elder, the cold already tore into him with all the care that his kind stripped an elk of it's hide, seeping into his marrow in such a way that the mornings often found him stiff and reluctant to move in the slightest. His only mercy this day was that the sun had emerged above the low steel of the horizon, it's weak light serving to kiss the very top hairs of his back to warmth.

His lips parted to toll out his usual brisk command, when a sudden howl disrupted the whispers and idle chatter that had swirled thick around his ears for most of the day. Immediately, his head snapped up, ears rousing to their fullness, pricking forth to ascertain the meaning of the ripe indignation that strident and coarse call held. His ocher eyes narrowed.

Get out. And don't come back, dog. The fur along his back stood erect--minute soldiers suddenly called to attention. The only law here was his--and not the brute who yowled now and brazenly and gravely overstepped his boundaries. But before he could launch himself from the rock and see to it that he was either placated or his tongue stilled, another voice rose from the crowd.


I've come to Dachau. To be sorted. At that, he settled back, mute surprise stilling his intent. His eyes sought the source of that bold declaration, and came to rest on a most peculiar vixen indeed. Though the wilds had long since claimed her as one of their own, the scent of civilization still lingered. Ah. So this, then, is the 'dog.'

"Step forward, milady. Approach the rock, if that is your wish. And then we will see if something can be done about your request, mm?" He himself stepped a fraction closer to her, while still remaining on the rock.

"Welcome to Dachau. My name is Citlali, and I will be your Zielle. For the time being, at least. And you are?"

[»Ιmαgε]

S A Y A N G

"Step forward, milady. Approach the rock, if that is your wish. And then we will see if something can be done about your request, mm?"

His voice was smooth as honey, slipping beneath the morning gloom, the trial she had just faced. Sayang's thin legs trembled at being addressed straight on and she moved her eyes away,

"Welcome to Dachau. My name is Citlali, and I will be your Zielle. For the time being, at least. And you are?"

[thought i'd go work on some manips in the mean time, as my mind tries to connect with this girl.]