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Old October 27th, 2011 (5:10 AM).
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Nideous Nideous is offline
The world refused to change...
    Join Date: Jun 2011
    Location: Somewhere over the rainbow
    Nature: Gentle
    Posts: 4,117
    (OOC: I suppose I should post now... Oh, and whenever Marcus and Dancepaw are speaking Wolf, I'll have their speech surrounded by [brackets like this].)

    Marcus sat on the ground away from the others. He held his bow loosely in his hands. Dancepaw was pacing around him. The pair of them were not happy. How had they been drawn into this? They weren't even guards! Dancepaw growled vaguely, sniffing the air. Marcus barked an answer back at him. Wait, he remembered. They pair of them had sniffed out a trap, so the followed the ambassador. When everything got crazy, by the grace of some quick shapeshifting, Marcus and Dancepaw had gotten out of the palace with the others. Then he followed his pack instncts and come here with the other three. Much to his annoyance.

    ["Trapped here like prey. This is not good!"] Dancepaw said irritatedly. Marcus growled in agreement. The others were talking about how to get out of here. But Dancepaw's griping had given him an idea.

    ["Prey... Prey... What does prey do best?"] Marcus growled thoughtfully. Dancepaw stopped pacing and stared at him. Marcus could almost hear his companion's mind trying to work. Marcus blinked slowly and waited for him to catch up. Dancepaw's eyes brightened when he figured it out, but he was not happy.

    ["You want us to turn everyone into..."] Dancepaw said, his voice trailing off. Marcus stood up and looked around. He extended his mind out and drew in more nature energy. He was going to need it for this.

    ["Prey, of course. You and me too,"] Marcus growled out at him. Dancepaw sputtered and began to protest, but Marcus cut him off with a sharp look.

    ["What is more important to you, your pride or your life?"] Marcus barked. That shut his lupine companion up.

    "Ahem... I... I have an... What is the word... I have an idea. My power... It can make us... Things. Small things that can run away and hide good. Um... Things like that," Marcus said. He pointed at a rat that was crawling along the ground. He knew what he meant, but spoken language was hard for him. He hoped someone would understand what he was trying to say.
    What is real? What is truth? Is it something you can touch? Can you see it? Find it? Hold it in your hands? What is true for you is not always the truth for someone else.

    RIANBOW SPADE! (My answer to everything. )
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