we have an emergency {Picasso}

[sharpz]

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[atrb=style, width: 238px; height: 404px; background: url(http://i1050.photobucket.com/albums/s418/cursebox/Conflicting%20Rivals/carouseltable1p2s2.png)] [style=height: 386px; overflow: auto; color: c0d2e2; text-align: justify; padding-right: 4px] "Speech" Whichever bright spark of a human had invented stairs deserved what they got when they passed on, or at least that is what Carousel had come to believe after she had passed through the stuck-open-doors of the shopping arcade. What had confronted her initially was a large, dimly lit space and a smooth slippery surface under her paws. As she looked up to take it all in she saw that the buildings large glass roof was covered in snow which had frozen solid - more than likely the source or rather the 'preventer' of the fore mentioned dim light. Limping further into the building however revealed a set of chilling metallic stairs which had narrow grooves cut into them, grooves which dug into her paws as she clambered awkwardly up them. Up until a few days before, Carousel had been content to sleep in a car in a child's car seat and ignore the world - only daring to come out for water - but being trapped inside had begun to make her feel somewhat claustrophobic. She had puffed up her fur and braved the cold and the ice in order to make here way to a larger space, hoping it would make her feel more comfortable. In truth though, she thought that her lame leg was probably the source of her irritation - it always seemed to itch when the winters came and she wasn't entirely sure why. The very fact that she lay on it when she curled up probably didn't do much to soothe it either. Carousel's concentration slipped as she reached the top step and she did not notice that the steps were becoming narrower as she climbed higher, her paw stepped onto the very edge of the step; she scrabbled as she lost her footing and fell a few steps backwards. A yowl of surprise caught in her throat. Pause. She saw she had scraped her back leg and it was bleeding and it was then that the yowl left her. It was not a pleasant sight and another bad leg was the last thing that she needed. tagged: picasso with orion

[♥Picasso]

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[atrb=background,http://i45.tinypic.com/4jt26x.jpg,true] Orion was shaking off his sickness now. It had taken him a week or two to fully recover from the plague. At some points, he had truly thought that he was going to die. He had been lucky - not that Orion would speak a word about his illness to anyone. He didn't want to appear weak in front of others. Shuddering, Orion hunched his shoulders to the wind. Although the plague no longer tainted his blood, he was still weakened by the coldness. He was wary of travelling outside, but he had no choice. A wolf had to hunt. It wasn't an extremely successful hunt. He had managed to capture a rather sick looking hare. It had little meat on its bones, but it would be enough for tonight. He blinked up at the sky. Snow had finished falling, but the ground was hard and frozen. Each step he took produced a loud crunch. It was a miracle that the hare hadn't heard him approach. The snow was making it impossible to be stealthy on a hunt. The wolf had been heading back to the Tempest Pack. They had open food stores there which Orion would be free to help himself to. That was what Orion loved about his pack. They would look after you. However, Orion didn't want to seem feeble and unable to capture his own prey. Looking around, Orion guessed that it would be another few hours before he approached the Tempest territory from here. The ebony wolf was tired after the hunt and didn't have the energy to head the whole way back just yet. Stretching his legs, he approached the large shopping arcade. He had never ventured inside, but it looked large enough to keep the wolf for a few hours while he got some energy back. There was a faint smell of canines and felines as he entered, but he couldn't focus on whether they were old or new. Arching his back, Orion groaned as his cold bones clicked and cracked. He felt like an old wolf, not a juvenile! It was then that he heard a yowl. Ears pricked, Orion picked up his hare and walked in the direction of the commotion. A cat. The wolf held back a growl as he inspected the feline. She had obviously fallen down the steps, and as Orion looked closer he saw a large gash on one of her legs. A small smile appeared on the wolf's face. He did like a bit of fun. Standing at the top of the steps, Orion sat down and watched her with hawk-like eyes. He dropped the hare between his two, black legs. "Aww, did someone hurt themselves? Can't even get up some mere steps? Well, that's pretty useless, isn't it?" He cooed nastily, eyes narrowing. He couldn't pin the cause for why the cat had fallen down the steps. Cats were renown for their excellent agility, but this one had obviously slipped. Perhaps she was further injured? How perfect that would be for Orion. He glanced down at his hare. His meal could wait whilst he would taunt this lame little kitty.

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[sharpz]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, height: 499px; width: 500px, bTable][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][cs=2]
[atrb=style, width: 262px][rs=2]	[atrb=style, width: 238px]
[atrb=style, width: 238px; height: 404px; background: url(http://i1050.photobucket.com/albums/s418/cursebox/Conflicting%20Rivals/carouseltable1p2s2.png)] [style=height: 386px; overflow: auto; color: c0d2e2; text-align: justify; padding-right: 4px] "Speech" Carousel had always been slower and less agile than her litter mates when she was younger, they advanced in leaps and bounds and she would limp along behind them whilst growling and insisting she could keep up if she wanted to. Then she had wanted to prove that she wasn't disadvantaged just because of her leg; the desire growing in her from a young age to show her mother that she had what it took to survive in the wreckage that the world had turned into. As she had grown older however she had found that playing the victim was often-times a good way of getting food and sometimes even protection whilst she slept. Sometimes dogs could be so easily to manipulate, and felines too - if the mood so took her to try. It wasn't so much that she had a distaste for dogs either, she just had the luck to find the ones that were all bark but consisted more of heart than of spite. Hadn't she said before that luck could be fickle? She wasn't sure now though to be honest. Her luck was certainly running out if she didn't manage to haul herself up stairs that, if made out of any other material than this uncomfortable metal, would have required very little effort to climb. Carousel tensed up, what little muscle remained after a harsh winter bunching under her fur, as the overpowering stench of wolf assaulted her nose. In all honesty though, she was very much more fur and bone than muscle anymore. She shook her head, believing that she was simply imagining things and started to relax again. Then she realized it wasn't so much a memory pulled up by her brain so much as a living, breathing, sneering wolf. "Who said that I couldn't?" Carousel attempted to retort back at his insult but it was a feeble attempt. She looked like a terrible-at-walking, breathing target. Where fight and flight instinct would normally have taken over she forced herself to still as neither option seemed too plausible. Carousel knew one thing though - she didn't want to be eaten.

[♥Picasso]

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[atrb=background,http://i45.tinypic.com/4jt26x.jpg,true] "" Orion tutted distastefully as the cat half-heartedly snapped back at him. It was quite clear from the wound on her leg and the inability to run away as soon as she'd seen him that this feline was a little bit... special. Orion would take great pleasure in taunting the feline into madness. Although he had been born into the Tempest Pack, and had it running through his veins, it wasn't actual cats that Orion hated. No, he only enjoyed the chase, the torment, the kill. Cats were easier targets, and it would be frowned upon to kill one of his own whilst still being part of the Tempest Pack. The only reason he was still part of that pack was: 1. To take his place in battle and slaughter as many as possible, and 2. Just in case Brooke changes her mind and makes him the rightful leader of Tempest. He is the son of Gravity after all. It was wishful thinking, but Orion still lives in hope. So the fact that the lame animal sprawled at the bottom of the steps was a feline did not repulse Orion. It only made him eager to make her life misery. He began to descend down the stairs until he had reached her. The scent made his nose itch, but he ignored that as he began to circle her. This was a treat! He could toy with her all night. She couldn't run - at least not easily and not for long. Orion would just drag her back and continue to push all her buttons. Lashing his tail, Orion narrowed his eyes. She was a petite cat, probably not able to eat much due to some kind of lameness. However... no lame cat would stand a chance at eating successfully every night. How had she managed to stay alive this long? Curious as ever, Orion looked her up and down, trying to figure out her secret. She was a stranger. An angry looking stranger. "I didn't need someone to tell me that you were incapable of climbing some steps," Orion scoffed cruelly, "Have you ever seen a healthy feline suddenly slip and tumble down a staircase? No? I thought not." His eyes grew dark as he moved closer to her. His hot breath whistled through her dappled fur as he bared his sharp teeth. He wanted to hear her heart race like a mouse. He wanted to see fear and death in her wide, green eyes. He wanted to wrap his mouth around her neck and squeeze. Orion pulled back, laughing. There was no fun to be had with a corpse. He wanted her alive. The wolf snickered as he looked outside. He couldn't fathom how a pathetic cat like herself was able to live through such a bitter winter. There was barely enough prey as it is, let alone prey that could be caught by a lame cat. He glanced back at her. "Tell me, dear kitty, how are you still alive? The winter should've killed you weeks ago. Yet here you are."

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[sharpz]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, height: 499px; width: 500px, bTable][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][cs=2]
[atrb=style, width: 262px][rs=2]	[atrb=style, width: 238px]
[atrb=style, width: 238px; height: 404px; background: url(http://i1050.photobucket.com/albums/s418/cursebox/Conflicting%20Rivals/carouseltable1p2s2.png)] [style=height: 386px; overflow: auto; color: c0d2e2; text-align: justify; padding-right: 4px] "Speech" Carousel was not pleased with her situation. It was not often she forgot to check her surroundings for threats, not often she liked to put herself in bad positions and now here she was having done just that. Normally she would be able to talk her way out of encounters with those that she perceived as a threat but there was something about the dark-furred wolf in front of her that made her feel that all the words in the world, if she possessed them, would not save her from whatever was going to happen. Carousel's tail had fluffed up as she saw the wolf starting to descend the steps towards her and, in a panic, she stumbled back a few steps, wincing in pain at the cut on her back leg. She did not want to end up as dinner for this beast (or for anyone for that matter). He started to circle her and the rest of her fur fluffed up as though it would truly make any difference to her chances of survival, then her face turned away a moment in disgust. He really did smell, or perhaps that was just her fear talking. "...Exactly. I could be sick for all you know, perhaps you should leave before you catch something." The she-cat was flailing for excuses, for anything to get him to leave her alone and the logic made sense to her she spat it out, eyes narrowing at the weak threat 'Wonderful, Caro, threaten him with illness. Well done.' She wondered for a moment if she could have said anything more stupid. "I am alive due to sheer luck." Carousel admitted at last "That and the animals in this city are suckers for a sob story." Through all this, her Carousel's ears were perked in the hope that the rabbit that the wolf had brought with him would somehow fall down the steps to her.