North

Within the Northern vicinity of the city, the wealthy gather behind meticulously trimmed hedges and high-class architecture. The pristine streets are paved with stone and the storefronts are brightly lit and inviting - for the right clientele. In the North, every establishment is eager to cater to the rich and the wealthy. Many such places are used to the sometimes peculiar requests of the otherworldly but here there is little that money cannot buy - whether it happens to be illegal or merely involves looking the other way. Vampires and Dark Hunters are often found upon these Northern streets, their long lives often contributing to their sizable wealth which allows them the luxuries that the North provides.

What You'll Find Here

Eternity
The VooDoo Room
The Witchery

Feral by Nature


Posted on November 16, 2016 by Malia Tate
North


Just as his mind fights the instinctive urges of prey, my mind is completely consumed by predatory instinct, feeding off of his momentary aprehension, my eyes darkening in distrust. I am very out of practice with the whole emotions thing, especially since mine have always been more complex than that of my pack mates. Whereas they just feel hungry or tired or excited or alluring, there seems to be no end to what I can feel in any given moment. I never said I got used to it though. My mind always seems to be in overdrive, coming at any given situation from all different kinds of angles.

No matter how he fought not to show such emotion, his a face an unreadable mask of disinterest, I could pick up on even the most subtle of signs from his body language, just a momentary shift in his position. Being a predator most of my life does come in handy sometimes.

He tilts his head as I assure him that I am no dog. I look down on the mutts, no less. My kind has lived off of their carcasses before I even grew up enough to teach them how to hunt. At least they were smart enough to use a female in heat to stir a mutt from his safe yard and into the woods where the rest of the pack would finish him off. Coyotes are smarter than dogs, even as scavenger animals.

He quirks his lip and snorts when I mention calling him a goat, my brows only furrowing more at his comeback. I shake my head with a snarl. "That's where you're wrong. They don't do their bidding, they are forced to... either through their own stupid version of loyalty to something that will never feel it back or out of force. I've seen the collars they put on dogs, collars that send a shock wave through their body. I've heard their screams in pain as the human kicks them in the ribs or beats them over the head when they don't do as told. The rest just fall in line out of some ill-informed idea of 'love' that they believe these humans feel for them.

"Not all dogs get food. Not all dogs get shelter. Have you seen the ones that look like skeletons? The dogs that are no longer wanted, that get dumped on the side of the road when their human is done with them? Have you see the dogs chained to trees for days on end, boiling in the hot sun with a bucket as empty as their stomach? I have." My tail flicks. Yes, even though I can't stand mutts for the bad name they bring to canine kind, at least I can feel compassion enough to pity them their stupidity for believing in such foul creatures as humans. I roll my eyes.

"As for scavenging, I think you'll find that my particular pack has evolved far beyond that of normal coyotes. We are the largest pack around and though they may choose to scavenge trash cans out of pure laziness sometimes, I assure you that they know how to take down a full grown bull elk when properly motivated." I hold my head high, obviously proud of my pack's accomplishments. I raise a brow when he says that he has been called worse. My eyes glitter with mischief. Don't worry, Rapunzel, I'll keep thinking of better.

I growl once more as he calls me little. I've never much liked how even stupid dogs can grow bigger than the average coyote and I've been stuck in this lanky awkward stage most of my existence. At the mention of my alpha, I can't help but chuckle, a strange noise between a bark and a yip. "Ceasar has no more power over me than I let him have. As for forcing a shift, he wouldn't know where to begin even if he knew such a thing as a Were existed. My pack is not like me. They are coyotes, nothing more." I shrug my shoulders, my tail swishing at his assurance that I would regret biting him. I curl my lips in amusement this time. "There are many things in my life that I may regret, but I doubt that drawing blood on a grazer for being a smartass would be one of them."

As he leans back, I narrow my eyes in suspicion before leaning back to sit on my haunches. I, too, can look perfectly at ease while being ready for any attack under the surface. My tail continues to thump the ground as he asks of my alpha. "His name is Ceasar. He's been the alpha for about 7 years or so, most of my life with the pack, anyway. He killed the former alpha, Dixon. He was really old and frail." I shrug it off, wondering why he cares about any of this.

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