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Tuesday December 30th 2008
Who: Mal and Ziv
What: Meeting and battle!
Where: The woods behind Mal's house
When: Mid afternoon
Rating: R for violence/language.
She had been tracking him for weeks, and it had not been easy. But she was determined. Failure was not an option. She knew the other elders didn't think she could do this, that she was too young, too weak. But her master had faith in her. He had told her to go, and he wouldn't have sent her topside unless he knew she could handle it. Luck seemed to be on her side, though. She caught the faintness of the scent of Miroslav very soon after she arrived topside, and while that was not her primary target, he was one of her objectives. It was rumored that Malcoda had assisted the runaway, and if this was true then one would lead to the other. So she had followed, blending with the world around her as best as she could, rarely sleeping and picking up the language of the humans. They were an interesting species, in the same way that an ant farm was interesting to watch. The way they went through their lives, how simple their structure was, their needs. How they liked to think themselves complicated. Sad, weird little creatures.
What was most interesting, and unusual, was how varied humans were. Hellhounds all followed a basic code of undertanding- obey the master. Obey demons. Follow orders or be killed. Humans were all over the place in what they thought, what they did, what they believed. It made no sense to Ziv, and she would be glad when she got to return home. And while, over the weeks, it seemed that home would be a long way off, finally the day came where her journey seemed to come to an end. The smell of home was pungent in the air, familiar scents that no human could replicate. It could have been another hound on a mission, it could have been an escort.
But it wasn't. Because there he was, hidden amongst trees behind some human dwellings. He seemed to be walking ambly, without purpose. Ziv frowned. Being topside seemed to have softened the elder, like everyone was saying. She hadn't wanted to believe that he was weaker, because of how proud of him Hades had been, but it seemed true. Malcoda was becoming nothing. Crouching low, the young hound shifted, her clothing searing off in a quiet, contained ball of flames. She trotted over to the elder, without secrecy or hesitation, her wings tucked low against her body. "Malcoda," she said as she came before him, bowing her head in respect. "Volám sa Ziv. Ja som poslal zabiť."
What: Meeting and battle!
Where: The woods behind Mal's house
When: Mid afternoon
Rating: R for violence/language.
She had been tracking him for weeks, and it had not been easy. But she was determined. Failure was not an option. She knew the other elders didn't think she could do this, that she was too young, too weak. But her master had faith in her. He had told her to go, and he wouldn't have sent her topside unless he knew she could handle it. Luck seemed to be on her side, though. She caught the faintness of the scent of Miroslav very soon after she arrived topside, and while that was not her primary target, he was one of her objectives. It was rumored that Malcoda had assisted the runaway, and if this was true then one would lead to the other. So she had followed, blending with the world around her as best as she could, rarely sleeping and picking up the language of the humans. They were an interesting species, in the same way that an ant farm was interesting to watch. The way they went through their lives, how simple their structure was, their needs. How they liked to think themselves complicated. Sad, weird little creatures.
What was most interesting, and unusual, was how varied humans were. Hellhounds all followed a basic code of undertanding- obey the master. Obey demons. Follow orders or be killed. Humans were all over the place in what they thought, what they did, what they believed. It made no sense to Ziv, and she would be glad when she got to return home. And while, over the weeks, it seemed that home would be a long way off, finally the day came where her journey seemed to come to an end. The smell of home was pungent in the air, familiar scents that no human could replicate. It could have been another hound on a mission, it could have been an escort.
But it wasn't. Because there he was, hidden amongst trees behind some human dwellings. He seemed to be walking ambly, without purpose. Ziv frowned. Being topside seemed to have softened the elder, like everyone was saying. She hadn't wanted to believe that he was weaker, because of how proud of him Hades had been, but it seemed true. Malcoda was becoming nothing. Crouching low, the young hound shifted, her clothing searing off in a quiet, contained ball of flames. She trotted over to the elder, without secrecy or hesitation, her wings tucked low against her body. "Malcoda," she said as she came before him, bowing her head in respect. "Volám sa Ziv. Ja som poslal zabiť."
