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Post by Neighborhood Watch on May 4, 2007 21:48:26 GMT -5
[Is Lysander posting or should I go? oo']
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Post by Doctor Director on May 16, 2007 6:23:42 GMT -5
[[Lysander said they'd post later, at a good time, I believe.]]
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Post by Tyrant on May 18, 2007 1:03:02 GMT -5
[Thought I'd just, scamper on in. =)]
Such a ruckus. The norm of a street paved with death.
Val was tearing through the air as if her voice were a tangible clone, seeable as well as hearable. Amid her loud tone were the voices of others, fighting for a chance. One in particular squeaked and yipped above the others. Perhaps it’s what stirred this approach.
Flashes of white carried themselves heavily over grimy asphalt. Each step seemed painfully slow, bone-shatteringly strong. Yet, they weren’t huge paws compared to some breeds. Normal feet. But...not normal. The scars lacing up the muscles through the brown fur, the ages of dust and beyond even these layers added weight, and power.
The eyes came first, joined by the touches of white in the shadowy alleys. They were yellow and sharp, near squinted, watching all. The Pit Bull soon appeared after them, step by step. Pink scar tissue stretched over a bulging flank, tensing whilst it stepped over a busted box. Like a beating heart, he walked with unrelenting steadiness, letting his presence wrought into the thickest skulls.
This, was Tyrant.
Musty coils of heat breathed from his form, pungent with a male’s scent. The Bull twitched his leathery nose. Those peering eyes flicked downwards to an awkward pile of rubbish near one of his paws. A yellow-moon orb widened, catching Adaelya’s scent beneath the stench of trash. He connected the small smell to the yippy voice that had battled with Val’s. A moment was spared before he stepped over the hybrid’s hiding place, absently.
He approached the Val-bitch as she scratched herself. His eyes brightened to a thought, a rather strange thing to see happen with his features. Such pups they could make.... The brightness flickered out like breath to fire. Something had to be done first. Someone had to be defeated.... Or no pups...no peace.
A tongue roughed over the slick fur of Tyrant’s lips. ”Anything good?” his voice was a booming rasp, a permanent snarl that whispered out steam on a chilly night. He of course was referring to the aimless ones that wandered about, seeking some manner of purpose or answer in their lives. They could always give good answers here at the Market....
He came around the back of his head-bitch. Keeping a good distance, but daring to get closer then most would. Staring around her, both yellowed eyes fixed on the black and white female. The chain and bullet had caught his interest if only for a nano-second.
Staying a foot to the back and flank of Val, the Pit lowered his stocky haunches to the chilled pavement. Upon sitting his bulk seemed to bunch up in places, wrinkling his surprisingly loose skin around his shoulders and nape. The deep folds just made his appearance more foreboding with his statue-stare. Like the presiding vulture awaiting a victim, he melted into silence, letting Val do her thing till he deemed it fit to interject or takeover all together.
In truth, he was using her as a syphon. Most of the trash was caught by her before reaching him. A good system that tended to not set his temper off all too often. However...this crowd was surprisingly mouthy from what he had heard thus far.
Bold was good. There were too many curl-tail fucks. Just no good for an out-weighed match against a bigger, stronger opponent. But pure arrogance showed little potential to do anything but provoke a good gang-bang.
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