the fire won't burn me && joining

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    [fancypost bgcolor=transparent; border: 1px solid white; height: 140px; width: 120px; background:url(http://i.imgur.com/jTJNH1B.jpg) center; background-size: 110%; margin-top: 3px; margin-left: -2px;][/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=rgba(255,255,255, 0.9); border: 1px solid #F2F2F2;font-family: arial;text-align: justify;color: black;width: 140px; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: -1px; margin-top: 4px; margin-left: -2px; font-size: 15px; padding: 5px;][i]CAUSE IF I COULD SEE YOUR FACE ONCE MORE, I COULD DIE A HAPPY MAN I'M SURE.[/fancypost] [fancypost bgcolor=rgba(255,255,255, 0.9); border: 1px solid #F2F2F2;font-family: bookman oldstyle;text-align: justify;color: black;width: 240px; height: 20px; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: -2px; margin-top: 4px; margin-left: 15px; font-size: 20px; padding: 15px;][i]FORGINGSWORDS.[/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=rgba(255,255,255, 0.9); border: none; width: 270px; font-size: 9.5px; line-height: 12px; text-align: justify; color: black; font-family: verdana;]Death. This place smelled like death and despair and... Needless to say, Forgingswords did not like it one bit. But someone he met on the road put in a good word for this place, so he felt obligated to honor the recommendation and at least check it out. And so the hulking behemoth forged through the forest, slicing through twisted vines and rotting bodies alike. The collective snarl of walkers off in the distance quickened his pace, as he did not feel very much inclined to be covered in more old blood than he cared for.




    Scattered patches of golden light leaked through the broad-leaf canopy overhead, setting his fleeting form alight with vibrant shade of orange and bronze. Paws nearly the size of dinner plates trekked delicately across the forest floor, surprisingly soft and graceful for a hybrid wildcat of his size. After crushing the skull of a walker with his jaws and taking time to spit out all of the revolting liquid that tainted his mouth, Forge sat down in a relatively quiet place, molten amber orbs searching the shadows for any signs of actual life. That walker tasted horrid - hopefully they would get here soon. He did not dare open his mouth for he did not wish to draw any unwanted attention from the undead.

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    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 500px; color: white; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 8pt;][hr][justify]The tiny, spunky little female came bounding up out of seemingly no where, her tail waving behind her. It was like the zombie apocalypse didn't even bother her anymore. "Hello there, you look familiar. Have we met? My name is Sylmae, what's yours? Also, what can we do for you?" She asked, her head cocking to the side as she watched the male intently. He seemed like he was nice and he was HUGE, which made her want to climb onto his head and snuggle up there. Though, everyone was huge to her. Nothing would compare to snuggling into Zak's head, though.


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    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 3px white solid; width: 100px; height: 100px; background: url(http://tinyurl.com/hxv9t9m); background-size: 100%;][/fancypost] [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 3px white solid; width: 100px; height: 100px; background: url(http://tinyurl.com/zy253k4); background-size: 100%;][/fancypost] [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 3px white solid; width: 100px; height: 100px; background: url(http://tinyurl.com/h26s8l3); background-size: 100%;][/fancypost]

    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 450px; line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 10pt;]Meanwhile, Amalgamatedemotions had way too much fun with these walkers. To her, they were dolls. Some even had souls left over! And she ate them, right up! She wasn't sure if that would effect her if she ate too many, but most likely not - hopefully that wasn't the case. Or maybe something else was wrong. Either way, she viewed them as things to toy around with - she was a maniac. She had been petting one earlier when it nearly bit her, which she decided to kill because 'it stopped liking her.'


    Padding forward, her gaze studied the joiner. Her eyes narrowed. Was this it? Could she take his soul, or would someone notice? Ah, but there Sylmae was in her way of collecting his soul - what a party-pooper! Skipping over, she giggled. "By the way, you look kinda lonely! Want a doll?" She asked.



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    [align=center][fancypost bgcolor=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=transparent; width: 425px;][justify]—[size=3pt]--[/size] [size=9pt]Eren walked a trail along the invisible borders, head lowered and eyes darkened - the child looked so grim that he could've been mistaken for a walker himself. He placed one paw after another, monotonously, the thoughts running through his head just as his appearance suggested. This whole situation had placed an immense level of stress upon his shoulders - stress and sorrow no seven-month-old should feel. Guilt, fear, sorrow, post-traumatic stress - all of it built upon him, later by layer, wearing him down and slowly rendering him useless.


    But he would pick himself back up, fighting through with fiery determination and raw anger. He always had, and he always would. It may not have been the healthiest method, but it worked - and it kept him alive. The boy nearly ran into Forgingswords before he would pause, looking up at the hulking creature. He simply blinked, stepping in line with Sylmae, watching the stranger with curious, albeit sorrowful, eyes.
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    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 425px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; text-trasform: lowercase][font=times new roman]The walkers seemed to be getting increasingly hungry. Increasingly bold. Perhaps it was just Ronan's observations, but somehow the hybrid had a feeling that it wasn't just him. Before he could still walk around the territory with relative ease, but now every wrong move and step brought groups of them towards him. He needed to be more careful again. He couldn't screw up and get bitten; he could go into his dreams and fix it, of course, but his clanmates wouldn't believe it when he told them.


    One walker, two walker, three walker, dead walkers. It was turning into a song as the raven hybrid twirled around with grace, decaptiating all of the undead surrounding him. He was like a hurricane, destruction in it's purest form. He could kill all if he wanted to. But it would cost him his life and he didn't. The beast settled for the three dead walkers by his feet instead, breathing barely affected by what others could have considered a work out.


    The sound of a voice in the distance was what distracted the canine from his kill, bringing his two heads up and a frown forming on both his maw and beak. He couldn't make out what exactly was being said, but he knew he had to check it out. It was dangerous out here, and despite he fact that the voice - which he soon identified as Sylmae's - sounded cheerful and worryless. In a matter of seconds he was streaking through the sky, golden light casting his feathers in a warm hue and giving him the appearance of not a raven but rather a Phoenix.


    The male finally landed next to his clanmate, gazing steadily at the stranger who seemed to also be of as little words as Ronan. It was a stark contrast to the female by his feet, who was yapping away to his discomfort. It was too much noise. It could attract walkers. That's why the hybrid did little but fix the liger before him with all four of his eyes, though his scarlet ones were nearly obscured by the shadows his Raven head was casting over them. A polite nod was the only greeting that he offered at the time, waiting for a response from the other to Sylmae's many questions.


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    [fancypost bgcolor=transparent; border: 1px solid white; height: 140px; width: 120px; background:url(http://i.imgur.com/jTJNH1B.jpg) center; background-size: 110%; margin-top: 3px; margin-left: -2px;][/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=rgba(255,255,255, 0.9); border: 1px solid #F2F2F2;font-family: arial;text-align: justify;color: black;width: 140px; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: -1px; margin-top: 4px; margin-left: -2px; font-size: 15px; padding: 5px;][i]CAUSE IF I COULD SEE YOUR FACE ONCE MORE, I COULD DIE A HAPPY MAN I'M SURE.[/fancypost] [fancypost bgcolor=rgba(255,255,255, 0.9); border: 1px solid #F2F2F2;font-family: bookman oldstyle;text-align: justify;color: black;width: 240px; height: 20px; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: -2px; margin-top: 4px; margin-left: 15px; font-size: 20px; padding: 15px;][i]FORGINGSWORDS.[/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=rgba(255,255,255, 0.9); border: none; width: 270px; font-size: 9.5px; line-height: 12px; text-align: justify; color: black; font-family: verdana;]The sudden arrival of everyone at once made the big guy uneasy, although none of the wary emotions showed upon the handsome features that were softened by the thick fur growing along his jaw. Forgingswords resembled that of a mildly bewildered teddy bear. It was an odd sight to behold.




    Black-capped audits twitched at the sound of high-pitched twittering originating from a peppy female while molten amber orbs focused upon a smaller, younger male that nearly rammed into his leg. Had he not possessed years of practice controlling his emotions, he might have lashed out at poor Eren in fear. The training of his youth taught him to strike first and ask questions later. Luckily those days only resided in the past, or Eren would be without his head.




    The voices swam in his skull, the voices colliding painfully with the bone and bouncing off his brain. He soon became painfully aware that the span of time between now and the last time he chatted with another person was considerable. [b]"Um," the baritone rumble was the first to break his silence. Ebony pupils danced to Sylmae first, then to the one asking about dolls, then the lifeless young man, to the silent creature and back to Sylmae. Something near recognition sparkled within his orbs. "I do not recall. You seem familiar, however. Uh, my name is Forgingswords. I am here to join."




    Forge flicked his tail, a little taken aback at the observation that he looked "kinda lonely." What did that mean? Oh... It was a very true statement, and the fact that the girl could pick that out of a total stranger made him wonder who she worked for. "A doll..? Uh, sure?"

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    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 500px; color: white; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 8pt;][hr][justify]"Well, Forgingswords. I happily welcome you to Scarclan. If you need anything, let me know, i dont bite. Maybe. Anyways, welcome." she said and flicked an ear, her eyes sparkling. She was so happy to see a new joiner, one less person to hate her. One new friend. She really felt like she knew this guy, though. It puzzled her. "Want a tour or anything like that? Im happy to provide." she conjured up a gift basket shortly after and pushed it towards him, her eyes glittering happily.


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