Lonely, find me. {EAROS.

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[atrb=background,http://i46.tinypic.com/2vslo8w.jpg] It was unavoidable, this boredom. Loneliness was a plague and it swept through the creature like wildfire. And here he had assumed that forever and ever alone would do no damage! Oh but Scox knew, and despite how much he loathed a breaking of his silence the aging wolf was moving on light paws amongst the ferns. He could smell them, those other beasts wandering aimlessly about. Hear their voices, ringing through the air. Disgusting! They were disgusting and their words tore at the pallid brute's sensitive ears until in a terror he shuffled backwards. Away. Instinct demanded socialization. Companionship. Each disorder troubling dear Scox fought for just the opposite. A no-win situation with base ball bats aimed at his head no matter what direction he chose. Grand. Wonderful. Head now aching from the over abundance of noise made by those wolves now a good hundred meters away Scox made for loneliness. Instinct be dammed, people were wretched things. It was a tried and true theory; tested on many a stranger. Wretched beings they were. Cruel in ways that the child minded canine could not comprehend. Of course Scox himself was cruel, intentionally at times, but cruel none the less. At least his viciousness was outright. It was not hidden in twisted words or corrupted families. His was not formed through manipulation or the like. Where Scox was mean and often cruel he acted openly, and showed his ire for what it was. People did not do that. Others did not use it. They called him mad, called him a monster. Was he not them without the veneer? It all didn't make any sense. Society was a nest of wasps pretending to be honey bee's. Pulling his lips back in a pained grimace the brute made farther off into the tree's, brushing green stuffs into that off-white pelt as he moved. Scox could not understand others, and as such liked these lonely times, no matter how the stung at his head. At his heart. Damnable creatures, those lot. His lot. All of the lot. Everyone went to hell, after all, everyone had committed sin. Heaven was a silly tale meant for those praying for retribution. Phantom paws struck the leaf littered ground beneath in silence. He moved as if a part of the forest; some crimson stained Nymph seeking a new home. A new past. His brooding had come to it's climax and with that, Scox knew not what to do. This daily foray attempt to find 'friends' always ended like this. He'd given up on questioning why. It was obviously his fault, though Scox couldn't quiet grasp why. He simply knew. Silly Scox, not having the right parts to be friendly. Silly broken robot Scox, who lost what was his and thus tried to make more. And all those silly creatures that had stained his once ivory fangs yellow and red at the roots. All those silly little creatures who couldn't be allowed to live because they would ruin some other silly creature. But there was always another. Always another after that. They were all silly, and ruined. All nasty things not fit to love or be loved. Scox tipped his head forward, nose pressing aside what lichen fouled his path. So the reaper would take care of them. The reaper would present them to the devil as was his do. How they begged at times, but Scox was no cross road's demon and nor was he prince of hell. His power was not to collect or allow respite. No. Scox was a hell hound, sent by the prince or his demons. Sent to collect the souls and devour the bodies so they might never return. Precious souls, turned black and greedy. Silly creatures turned evil and disgusting. He wouldn't let them ruin the world. It was such a pretty world. A pristine place. Not a place for mere mortals to preside. Nor demons or hell hounds for that mater, but he'd a job to do. Ocher eyes stared ahead into the light of early morning, watching it filter through the spaced jungle as he walked. That frantic headlong rush had ended, replaced by a peaceful trot that offered up nothing but silence to a listening ear. Mortal's didn't belong in this place, and he would see to their removal, should he find the means to remove them. The only lies this hound ever spoke, they spilled form him in body language. False calm in a form that's mind ravage in it's need to destroy. No. Not destroy. Remove. Throw to the pit, as the pit deserved. It was in the end, color that distracted the brooding monster from his eggs. Dull eyes spun to catch the florescent red, and the old wolf came to pause in an attempt to see it better. At first glance Scox thought it a bird, and had stopped for fear alone. He was not a great fan of the avian race, as they never held anything but messengers awing and none were good for him. But no. This creature was not feathered, nor beaked. It was soft and luxurious and Scox moved off his trail into the green life to approach it. A clump of flowers, settled only three amongst the surrounding green. Soft as silk they looked, and just as fragile. Dew clung to them still from the storm the night before hand. Soon those thunder heads would join again above this place, but not now. Not yet. Would these weak little things survive until then? Each head swooped low, caught up in the ancestry of it's kind. And Orchid, as beautiful as it was rare. Precious as jewels to the few who could see it for beauty and not simply food. Or medicine. Sweet as honey. Scox sat slowly, in the end finding himself laying to face the site at eye level. They clung in their airy ways to the tree alongside them, hovering above the ground by a scant foot and a half. Scox watched them as if expecting them to speak, eyes wide as a child's on Christmas. Oh such rare gems they were! In all his seven years had this ghostly brute seen them more then thrice? Never! Entrapped Scox did nothing but stare, watching as silently as wind, despite how loudly his body spoke. Utter joy turned upon every hair, lifting and rippling with surprise and glee. Ears perched forward atop a sharply lifted skull, eyes bouncing back and forth between the three scarlet bells.

[EAROS KHAN]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,width:480px; height: auto; background:url(http://i1249.photobucket.com/albums/hh501/Tramenier/khantable.jpg) no-repeat center top; background-color:#3F5064; outline: 1px dotted #241f1f; border:2px solid #fff;"] The small creature fascinated him to a point beyond return. He had been sitting for ages simply gawking at the thing as it sat perched on the dainty end of a twig. Big wings it had, well - for it's size. Colorfull too, like a jaguar. But try as he might, he couldn't get near enough to smell the thing. Whenever he extended his head it would flutter up into the air and alight somewhere else. He didn't want to hurt, no of course not - but he needed to know it with all his senses. Heck, if it wasn't so delicate he would probably have tried to lick it too. An action he should have learned the better of after licking a poisonous toad. As if taunting him, the butterfly wafted up into the air and fluttered away from him, refusing this time to land on anything. Grinning like a child, Earos sprung into action, hopping behind it and dancing around it on his hind legs - his tongue lolling out of mouth as he spread his jaws in playful yaps. The monarch didn't seem to pleased by this and was in no mind to be playing with a silly wolf, so it floated up and perched neatly on a branch far from Khan's reach. Sitting down, the slate grey canine sighed. It was a little upsetting that the pretty thing didn't return his joy. He hadn't played with anything in ages. Everything was simply too scared - and he hadn't come across another wolf in many a moon. It was beginning to feel to him as if he was being avoided - which of course was an untruth, but they always say that mind will play tricks on you. Deciding to grant the insect its wish, he stood, shook himself of the dirt that clung to his fur and padded off in another direction. It was a fine spring day - with a crisp coolness in the air that prickled the skin beneath his fur. Why were there no others out? Perhaps there were, but he simply hadn't happened upon them yet. Bi-colored eyes blinked slowly as he came to a halt. Yes, there were others out. Or perhaps... Just other. A scent had come to him, faint but fresh. Definitely canine. He tail automatically began to wag in a pup-like manner as he threw his nose to the ground and followed the trail. It grew stronger by the second, and soon Khan found himself staring at the rear end of a pale brute. Before him - an unbelievable act of nature. Earos was speechless. He padded slowly forward with his jaw agape, coming to a halt just off the left of the other male. They were... spectacular. A flower he only seen once, but these a different color. "They're... beautiful." The word didn't quite live up to the way that they made him feel, but it was enough. He knew that the other wolf must have felt the same, for why else would he be standing here looking at them? The question faded to nothingness as he was engulfed by a gratitude to mother earth for showing him these works of art. So utterly fragile in a harsh world - but still standing. It brought a smile to his white edged lips. "Speech."