Post by maston on Jun 25, 2008 5:36:39 GMT -5
Two and a half years. Could it really have been two and a half years? That meant 30 months, around 140 weeks, 980 days, 58800 hours, 3528000 minutes, 211680000 seconds of living. That, in his book, was a long time. After all, his sister Sayuri had died by the time they were a year old; had passed onto a world that he did not know and did not wish to know. He had been told that she had died of disease but, somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew different. She had been killed; killed because of their mother’s disloyalty.
He hadn’t been allowed access to his family from the time he was merely a month of age. He was taken from them as he had been selected for specialist training that they would never understand. He had been separated from normal conditions and thrown into a totally different place. The ice den. That’s what they called it. The truth was it was no den at all, merely an area for a group of young wolves on the program; each with their own mentor or, in the occasional case, mentors. That group was known as the punishers.
The group consisted of five at the time, himself and Sireta considered different to the others and so separated into their own area. The two were never to consider themselves friends though, merely allies who would form the second generation of the punishers. The age gap made that easier, Sireta finding she was 8months older than him thought of her self as higher when she first laid eyes on him but that was soon to change. Within days that was to change.
The reason for that change was simple- he had been selected to be trained by the alphess and her daughter while she was trained by a mere raider. Or that’s what the pack knew the three as. They were told that, and then told to forget about it till a later time. But it had set in the mind of his soon-to-be rival and made her slightly less confident about him.
To the pups their mentors were merely known as mentor, and then their name. For example, mentor Nalinsti. The training was hard, the days long and occasionally not getting sleep or rest for days the punishers were punished in ways which very few would survive. Every punisher went through this and three survived, only one of the other group- the normal punishers.
Finally the day came they were released; the day they would finally escape each others icy glare. The day the rivals would become allies in a line of punishers who were few in number but great in strength and mind. Sireta left scarred and wounded from the many times they were forced to fight while he hardly gained a mark.
That had been a year ago. Now he was used to his new life, moving from land to land until one of his unseen masters tell him to settle in. They were, of course, seen, though only by him. The whole operation was secret; no one was to find out. More pups could be trained but no one other than a current punisher was to train them. They knew the training- they had been through it.
The lands he walked upon were once again new, his tread silent and his scent disguised by the leaves and foliage he had rubbed against as he passed into the lands. He now would be almost undetectable- only visible to the eye for his pelt was not one designed for camouflage though he could hide; if he wished.
His height was larger than average though the well-toned bulk of muscle which surrounded his form made him look bulkier than he was. A dark grey pelt covered his body but he wasn’t normal in the least. His markings, and training, made sure of that.
Obsidian had found its way to his audits and around his opticals giving a look much like a panda while his right foreleg was coloured to match. A White collar stretched around his neck, coming into contact with the black audits, the tip of the tassel was also stained like snow. Opposing his right foreleg his left was white. Already it is obvious how odd he looks. Add to this pale grey hind legs, sorrel stripes and underbelly, a tan line down the spine and three fox-red stars on his right fore shoulder and you have a basic image of this wolf. If you don’t think that is odd, add to it lilac eyes to see the full affect.
He paced through the lands, his gait quick. He was hitting eighty paces a minute which meant 4800 in an hour. Each step was about 30cm long, meaning he travelled 144000cm in an hour which is around 1440m. You can see why he would look like he was on a mission when he moved. His muscles rippling beneath his thick yet short pelt it was an intimidating thing to watch.
Finally he stopped just at the boarder of a new land and nose wrinkled. There was a pack here, though not a large one. Fangs were bared slightly and he turned head to look at a small stream. Was this pack where he would settle? He had no way to know of the pack and so he decided to announce his presence. Head tilted back and howl escaped mug- come and find me.
He hadn’t been allowed access to his family from the time he was merely a month of age. He was taken from them as he had been selected for specialist training that they would never understand. He had been separated from normal conditions and thrown into a totally different place. The ice den. That’s what they called it. The truth was it was no den at all, merely an area for a group of young wolves on the program; each with their own mentor or, in the occasional case, mentors. That group was known as the punishers.
The group consisted of five at the time, himself and Sireta considered different to the others and so separated into their own area. The two were never to consider themselves friends though, merely allies who would form the second generation of the punishers. The age gap made that easier, Sireta finding she was 8months older than him thought of her self as higher when she first laid eyes on him but that was soon to change. Within days that was to change.
The reason for that change was simple- he had been selected to be trained by the alphess and her daughter while she was trained by a mere raider. Or that’s what the pack knew the three as. They were told that, and then told to forget about it till a later time. But it had set in the mind of his soon-to-be rival and made her slightly less confident about him.
To the pups their mentors were merely known as mentor, and then their name. For example, mentor Nalinsti. The training was hard, the days long and occasionally not getting sleep or rest for days the punishers were punished in ways which very few would survive. Every punisher went through this and three survived, only one of the other group- the normal punishers.
Finally the day came they were released; the day they would finally escape each others icy glare. The day the rivals would become allies in a line of punishers who were few in number but great in strength and mind. Sireta left scarred and wounded from the many times they were forced to fight while he hardly gained a mark.
That had been a year ago. Now he was used to his new life, moving from land to land until one of his unseen masters tell him to settle in. They were, of course, seen, though only by him. The whole operation was secret; no one was to find out. More pups could be trained but no one other than a current punisher was to train them. They knew the training- they had been through it.
The lands he walked upon were once again new, his tread silent and his scent disguised by the leaves and foliage he had rubbed against as he passed into the lands. He now would be almost undetectable- only visible to the eye for his pelt was not one designed for camouflage though he could hide; if he wished.
His height was larger than average though the well-toned bulk of muscle which surrounded his form made him look bulkier than he was. A dark grey pelt covered his body but he wasn’t normal in the least. His markings, and training, made sure of that.
Obsidian had found its way to his audits and around his opticals giving a look much like a panda while his right foreleg was coloured to match. A White collar stretched around his neck, coming into contact with the black audits, the tip of the tassel was also stained like snow. Opposing his right foreleg his left was white. Already it is obvious how odd he looks. Add to this pale grey hind legs, sorrel stripes and underbelly, a tan line down the spine and three fox-red stars on his right fore shoulder and you have a basic image of this wolf. If you don’t think that is odd, add to it lilac eyes to see the full affect.
He paced through the lands, his gait quick. He was hitting eighty paces a minute which meant 4800 in an hour. Each step was about 30cm long, meaning he travelled 144000cm in an hour which is around 1440m. You can see why he would look like he was on a mission when he moved. His muscles rippling beneath his thick yet short pelt it was an intimidating thing to watch.
Finally he stopped just at the boarder of a new land and nose wrinkled. There was a pack here, though not a large one. Fangs were bared slightly and he turned head to look at a small stream. Was this pack where he would settle? He had no way to know of the pack and so he decided to announce his presence. Head tilted back and howl escaped mug- come and find me.