Post by Strike on Apr 3, 2010 12:18:12 GMT -5
The sun began to rise on the horizon, vibrant arrays of color riding the vast sea of the sky. Only moments ago a fellow wolf approached Strike with news he had been waiting for. Strike had spoken with Jerome about a task, a dangerous one that was much needed at this rate. The task of capturing a live angel. And his beta had not failed him. Though he wasn’t too pleased about Oriana having gone with him for the adventure, but what was done, was done, and as far as the word spread, it seemed neither got killed.
Silver eyes glanced up to the open window before him, eyeing the colorful variation before glancing down to his arm. His other hand worked to slide a thick leather gauntlet over his wrist, pulling the ties tight. Once the piece was tight, he turned from his position and began his decent to the basement. Crystal had originally taken up the basement as her living quarters but once she left for the second pack, upon his request, it became vacant. Now it was to be a torture chamber. Or more diplomatically put, an interrogation center. And it was going to be quite the session he planned for this day.
Two wolves stood beside the basement door, guards for the entrance way now that they held a prisoner. The door was opened and she simply walked by without word to the men. Reaching the bottom, two more stood and down the hall, more wolves were spotted as guards. Strike took down the hall without hesitation, paying no mind to the wolves he passed. It was an unfortunate thing to do, but in order to obtain his traditional persona for this angel, he needed to completely be the part. He wasn’t going to approach this creature half prepared. Angels were from a world he came from and he was going to give them the proper greeting.
Two final wolves stood the doorway of the large room the prison was held in. Strike did eye these two before entering finally. Already, the black lines crawled along the left side of his body, creating the ancient symbols of his people. His senses could already tell he was in the presence of an angel, the wolf in him responding with a heated rage and the threat of a growl. He didn’t delay, he simply walked to the front the female angel Oriana and Jerome had managed to catch, his silver irises were outlined with pure black as he eyed her. He wore no shirt, allowing the lines of power to be seen. Only one leather gauntlet was on his right wrist and a thin leather necklace with a crystal point at the end. It was a gift from his mother when he was a boy and its sentimental value could not be ignored. More long, dark leathers fit his hips to cover his midsection as most tribes of the past had done. Though the leathers were long and became more strip like toward the bottom (I am seriously having issues describing this part, and it sounds whacky, soooo use your imagination lol). He wore the traditional garb of a Kragarian.
His sword was also strapped to his side. It had been too long since he last had it on him, having refused to ever use it again. But now that time came where he just may need to. His eyes continued to remain on the angel, refusing to look away and not saying anything as he assessed the creature.
Silver eyes glanced up to the open window before him, eyeing the colorful variation before glancing down to his arm. His other hand worked to slide a thick leather gauntlet over his wrist, pulling the ties tight. Once the piece was tight, he turned from his position and began his decent to the basement. Crystal had originally taken up the basement as her living quarters but once she left for the second pack, upon his request, it became vacant. Now it was to be a torture chamber. Or more diplomatically put, an interrogation center. And it was going to be quite the session he planned for this day.
Two wolves stood beside the basement door, guards for the entrance way now that they held a prisoner. The door was opened and she simply walked by without word to the men. Reaching the bottom, two more stood and down the hall, more wolves were spotted as guards. Strike took down the hall without hesitation, paying no mind to the wolves he passed. It was an unfortunate thing to do, but in order to obtain his traditional persona for this angel, he needed to completely be the part. He wasn’t going to approach this creature half prepared. Angels were from a world he came from and he was going to give them the proper greeting.
Two final wolves stood the doorway of the large room the prison was held in. Strike did eye these two before entering finally. Already, the black lines crawled along the left side of his body, creating the ancient symbols of his people. His senses could already tell he was in the presence of an angel, the wolf in him responding with a heated rage and the threat of a growl. He didn’t delay, he simply walked to the front the female angel Oriana and Jerome had managed to catch, his silver irises were outlined with pure black as he eyed her. He wore no shirt, allowing the lines of power to be seen. Only one leather gauntlet was on his right wrist and a thin leather necklace with a crystal point at the end. It was a gift from his mother when he was a boy and its sentimental value could not be ignored. More long, dark leathers fit his hips to cover his midsection as most tribes of the past had done. Though the leathers were long and became more strip like toward the bottom (I am seriously having issues describing this part, and it sounds whacky, soooo use your imagination lol). He wore the traditional garb of a Kragarian.
His sword was also strapped to his side. It had been too long since he last had it on him, having refused to ever use it again. But now that time came where he just may need to. His eyes continued to remain on the angel, refusing to look away and not saying anything as he assessed the creature.