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About Foxfyre
((I'll say this here, since it might be missed otherwise: Unless I'm chatting idly away, talking OOC, or it has been agreed upon OOC, Fyre will be portrayed as he appears in the paragraphs after the large gap below.
For those of you seeking a short bit of entertainment and a description of Fyre, see after the large space below.
The avatar without a shirt was drawn by
dren. I'm quite happy with it. Thanks a lot.
I prefers to go by Fyre so that I am not confused with the numerous people that have 'Fox' in their name, although I will still respond if I think you're talking to me.))
Fyre is happily mated to Jade,
AmbieSchizoFox (Previously AmberVixen). She's a curly-furred cinnamon-colored vixen, and can be found easily by following the picture and pressing Ctrl+F typing in "Jade" and hitting enter, or just scrolling down the page and looking the old-fashioned way. She and Fyre have three pups, Aren, Tala, and Daniel.
Fyre also owns a couple pets, although don't go thinking they're the normal kind of house pet, because you'll be sorely mistaken. The first is
Lost Faith who rarely if ever is actually on this site, and the second is 
Sissy whom is on a bit more often. Before you go and decide that this means he's a dominant, if semi-nice wolf to hang around with, you should probably read the following paragraphs.
At the edge of the green forest, saplings spread their new limbs to the sunny sky. As you move in, the sunlight peeking through the thin canopy lights up the ground with the pattern of a leopard's spots. You can hear birds chirping out calls to mates and young. The undergrowth consists of small bushes that reach out to caress you with soft leaves. As you move deeper, the birds calm and the underbrush disappears to be replaced with dried and decaying leaves, filling your nostrils with a strangely comforting smell. The sunlight's paths to the ground grow ever smaller; while the cheerful chirping birds are replaced by an all-encompassing silence. If you speak, you do so in a soft voice, so as to not disturb the peaceful silence. When you reach the center, there lies a small protected glade, covered in a rainbow blanket of flowers. Here the heart of nature goes uninterrupted in its beauty by the noise of the city and civilization. You feel that speaking now would be tantamount to a great sin; as if disturbing the silence would bring about the anger of the stoic trees guarding the clearing. Above all, a sense of serene peace flows over you. Maybe it was the soft scent of the flowers, maybe it was the silence; maybe it was the protection the forest offered you from the outside world. Whatever it was, your worries seem to slip away, no matter how hard you grasp at them. You feel the need to sit on the soft ground and rest your weary feet, here you know, not one soul would bother you. You look up and see a figure much like yourself, smiling in the care-free world in which children spend their time as the worries and sadness slip from their reach. You say nothing; nothing is needed. All that you know is that neither of you are going to disturb the other one from their serenity. You close your eyes, sinking into the soundless nature around you...
You hardly feel it at first; a strangeness in your mind, the feeling that, in this perfect place, something is amiss. Fear creeps its way into your thoughts; one finger after another of gripping terror wraps itself around your thoughts. You look around, but no reason is present, all is as it was in the forest, the only visible change is the sun drawn closer to the horizon. The figure across from you shifts uncomfortably in their sleep; obviously, their dreams are not pleasant ones. Shadows flit back and forth approach the edges of your vision, only to disappear the moment you try to put them into view. You look behind you into the bright forest. Not a soul to be seen, not a soul to be heard.
A sudden gurgling from the far side of the clearing alerts you that something has gone awry; you spin around. The horror wrestles you into a stranglehold at the sight before you. Your partner in solace, hidden in the darkness of a tree’s shadow, lies on their side. You strive to fight off the rising hysteria as a dark liquid seeps into the earth around them, robbing this place of its innocence, of its peace. Phantoms sneak around the darkness of the overhanging trees; your head swivels in every direction, yearning to spot one of these specters, to face one, just to confirm their existence, to assure you that yourself that your sanity remains intact. A soft sound, wet, something sinking into the soggy earth, brings your attention to the front; you find the apparition.
Your fear falls away. Your thoughts flee. You feel numb. A hulking silhouette stares down at you. It reeks of something unidentifiable, but terrible. You think of death, of tortuous pain, of everything you hold dear being stripped away. You are no longer in control. The creature of darkness shrinks down, no, crouches, and holds your gaze with its own. It makes not a sound. Its eyes do not reflect light, they absorb every bit they’re given. Somehow, even in the near noonday sun, you feel cast into a prison, entrapped and entombed in darkness, never again to see the light. A pair of eyes, golden, float in the darkness, set with gems of emerald that shimmer with a blackness wholly unlike anything you’ve ever seen. They seem to stare into the very fiber of your being. Something touches your neck, five pinpricks against your skin.
Pain, a new level agony you weren’t aware even existed, floods your mind. You press your palms to your throat and gasp; it reaches your ears as a gurgle. Hot liquid floods your throat and neck, running through the fingers held tightly to the gaping hole. Each breath coming with more difficulty than the last as your lungs’ volume shrinks, filling with the fluid you suck from your torn throat into your chest. The smell of metal fills your nostrils; your vision begins to fail. Only the dimming of the golden eyes marks your progress on the march toward total blackness. The last sight you see is the flash of a smile beneath the eyes.
The figure rose, dripping blood from its clawed fingers. It stood at least a foot and a half above the average man with broad shoulders to match. A gleaming white smile shone on its face. Even in the bright day, its body somehow managed to remain enrobed in deep shadows, but as it surveyed the area, it stepped forward. The unequivocally male creature’s loins hung unashamedly in the open. It appeared to be a silver-furred wolf, but wolves did not project the same aura of evil that this creature did. He raised his crimson paw to his muzzle. His pink tongue darted between his black lips and lapped the blood from his fur, leaving it stained a light scarlet. Inspecting his work, the malevolent being let loose a blood chilling laugh in a clear, rich baritone at the sight of so perfect a place soiled with so vile a sin. He melted into the shadows as he abandoned the lifeless bodies, leaving behind a silent clearing. Once serene, peaceful and undisturbed, the small meadow now fills with the stench of blood and death, and the silence that falls is ominous and foreboding, the calm before a storm, yet the destroyer has disappeared, heading for whatever creature happens to have the misfortune of next crossing its path.
You’re traveling through the dreaded forest, following diligently the winding marked trail; straying off with even a toe means almost certain death. Only those that do die, but the perpetrator is never seen, no matter how many are watching. Shivering, you pass through the cursed grove where skeletons lay on earth somehow stained by their blood. Hundreds of summers and springs after their deaths, the blemishes lay as dark as if they just lost their lives. Midday; the forest somehow gripped a fog and pinned it to the soil like a sheet of cotton. You hear a cry for help, a plea from deep within the woods. You ignore it. A loud snap next to you makes you jump; you trample upon untrodden ground. First, you stare, incredulous, but quickly you move on. You tell yourself again and again that the path continued there, that the grass was flattened before you arrived. Something nags at your mind, different than the oppressive atmosphere of the wood. Phantasms shuffle through the thick undergrowth, rustling leaves until you look toward them. You see the exit of the wood ahead, a tunnel of light in the trees, not a sound is to be heard, no birds, no insects. You look at another cracking sound to your left, but brush it off as nothing more than your imagination and turn back to the path. A hulking figure stands before you, clad only in fur. The eyes are what catch your attention, golden eyes, set with emerald flecks, and the odor of death, clinging to the creature like a jealous lover...
((Does this all mean that he could never appear in any other capacity except to tear something limb from limb or send it to certain death? No. But unless it is otherwise discussed, he will not be a pleasant figure to meet at any time, day or night, while you're alone. This is where OOC planning comes in, and plays a great deal in how much you will likely enjoy an RP that happens to be set up. In fact, he doesn't even have to be a demon. Imagine that, someone that is a little flexible with their character. Isn't that astounding? Regardless, without any discussion, the character portrayed above will be the standard for anything aside from idle chat.)) species Wolf... More or less.
gender male
20 submissions 17,860 page views 199 comments received 227 comments posted 8,161 profile views
For those of you seeking a short bit of entertainment and a description of Fyre, see after the large space below.
The avatar without a shirt was drawn by
I prefers to go by Fyre so that I am not confused with the numerous people that have 'Fox' in their name, although I will still respond if I think you're talking to me.))
Fyre is happily mated to Jade,
Fyre also owns a couple pets, although don't go thinking they're the normal kind of house pet, because you'll be sorely mistaken. The first is
At the edge of the green forest, saplings spread their new limbs to the sunny sky. As you move in, the sunlight peeking through the thin canopy lights up the ground with the pattern of a leopard's spots. You can hear birds chirping out calls to mates and young. The undergrowth consists of small bushes that reach out to caress you with soft leaves. As you move deeper, the birds calm and the underbrush disappears to be replaced with dried and decaying leaves, filling your nostrils with a strangely comforting smell. The sunlight's paths to the ground grow ever smaller; while the cheerful chirping birds are replaced by an all-encompassing silence. If you speak, you do so in a soft voice, so as to not disturb the peaceful silence. When you reach the center, there lies a small protected glade, covered in a rainbow blanket of flowers. Here the heart of nature goes uninterrupted in its beauty by the noise of the city and civilization. You feel that speaking now would be tantamount to a great sin; as if disturbing the silence would bring about the anger of the stoic trees guarding the clearing. Above all, a sense of serene peace flows over you. Maybe it was the soft scent of the flowers, maybe it was the silence; maybe it was the protection the forest offered you from the outside world. Whatever it was, your worries seem to slip away, no matter how hard you grasp at them. You feel the need to sit on the soft ground and rest your weary feet, here you know, not one soul would bother you. You look up and see a figure much like yourself, smiling in the care-free world in which children spend their time as the worries and sadness slip from their reach. You say nothing; nothing is needed. All that you know is that neither of you are going to disturb the other one from their serenity. You close your eyes, sinking into the soundless nature around you...
You hardly feel it at first; a strangeness in your mind, the feeling that, in this perfect place, something is amiss. Fear creeps its way into your thoughts; one finger after another of gripping terror wraps itself around your thoughts. You look around, but no reason is present, all is as it was in the forest, the only visible change is the sun drawn closer to the horizon. The figure across from you shifts uncomfortably in their sleep; obviously, their dreams are not pleasant ones. Shadows flit back and forth approach the edges of your vision, only to disappear the moment you try to put them into view. You look behind you into the bright forest. Not a soul to be seen, not a soul to be heard.
A sudden gurgling from the far side of the clearing alerts you that something has gone awry; you spin around. The horror wrestles you into a stranglehold at the sight before you. Your partner in solace, hidden in the darkness of a tree’s shadow, lies on their side. You strive to fight off the rising hysteria as a dark liquid seeps into the earth around them, robbing this place of its innocence, of its peace. Phantoms sneak around the darkness of the overhanging trees; your head swivels in every direction, yearning to spot one of these specters, to face one, just to confirm their existence, to assure you that yourself that your sanity remains intact. A soft sound, wet, something sinking into the soggy earth, brings your attention to the front; you find the apparition.
Your fear falls away. Your thoughts flee. You feel numb. A hulking silhouette stares down at you. It reeks of something unidentifiable, but terrible. You think of death, of tortuous pain, of everything you hold dear being stripped away. You are no longer in control. The creature of darkness shrinks down, no, crouches, and holds your gaze with its own. It makes not a sound. Its eyes do not reflect light, they absorb every bit they’re given. Somehow, even in the near noonday sun, you feel cast into a prison, entrapped and entombed in darkness, never again to see the light. A pair of eyes, golden, float in the darkness, set with gems of emerald that shimmer with a blackness wholly unlike anything you’ve ever seen. They seem to stare into the very fiber of your being. Something touches your neck, five pinpricks against your skin.
Pain, a new level agony you weren’t aware even existed, floods your mind. You press your palms to your throat and gasp; it reaches your ears as a gurgle. Hot liquid floods your throat and neck, running through the fingers held tightly to the gaping hole. Each breath coming with more difficulty than the last as your lungs’ volume shrinks, filling with the fluid you suck from your torn throat into your chest. The smell of metal fills your nostrils; your vision begins to fail. Only the dimming of the golden eyes marks your progress on the march toward total blackness. The last sight you see is the flash of a smile beneath the eyes.
The figure rose, dripping blood from its clawed fingers. It stood at least a foot and a half above the average man with broad shoulders to match. A gleaming white smile shone on its face. Even in the bright day, its body somehow managed to remain enrobed in deep shadows, but as it surveyed the area, it stepped forward. The unequivocally male creature’s loins hung unashamedly in the open. It appeared to be a silver-furred wolf, but wolves did not project the same aura of evil that this creature did. He raised his crimson paw to his muzzle. His pink tongue darted between his black lips and lapped the blood from his fur, leaving it stained a light scarlet. Inspecting his work, the malevolent being let loose a blood chilling laugh in a clear, rich baritone at the sight of so perfect a place soiled with so vile a sin. He melted into the shadows as he abandoned the lifeless bodies, leaving behind a silent clearing. Once serene, peaceful and undisturbed, the small meadow now fills with the stench of blood and death, and the silence that falls is ominous and foreboding, the calm before a storm, yet the destroyer has disappeared, heading for whatever creature happens to have the misfortune of next crossing its path.
You’re traveling through the dreaded forest, following diligently the winding marked trail; straying off with even a toe means almost certain death. Only those that do die, but the perpetrator is never seen, no matter how many are watching. Shivering, you pass through the cursed grove where skeletons lay on earth somehow stained by their blood. Hundreds of summers and springs after their deaths, the blemishes lay as dark as if they just lost their lives. Midday; the forest somehow gripped a fog and pinned it to the soil like a sheet of cotton. You hear a cry for help, a plea from deep within the woods. You ignore it. A loud snap next to you makes you jump; you trample upon untrodden ground. First, you stare, incredulous, but quickly you move on. You tell yourself again and again that the path continued there, that the grass was flattened before you arrived. Something nags at your mind, different than the oppressive atmosphere of the wood. Phantasms shuffle through the thick undergrowth, rustling leaves until you look toward them. You see the exit of the wood ahead, a tunnel of light in the trees, not a sound is to be heard, no birds, no insects. You look at another cracking sound to your left, but brush it off as nothing more than your imagination and turn back to the path. A hulking figure stands before you, clad only in fur. The eyes are what catch your attention, golden eyes, set with emerald flecks, and the odor of death, clinging to the creature like a jealous lover...
((Does this all mean that he could never appear in any other capacity except to tear something limb from limb or send it to certain death? No. But unless it is otherwise discussed, he will not be a pleasant figure to meet at any time, day or night, while you're alone. This is where OOC planning comes in, and plays a great deal in how much you will likely enjoy an RP that happens to be set up. In fact, he doesn't even have to be a demon. Imagine that, someone that is a little flexible with their character. Isn't that astounding? Regardless, without any discussion, the character portrayed above will be the standard for anything aside from idle chat.)) species Wolf... More or less.
gender male
20 submissions 17,860 page views 199 comments received 227 comments posted 8,161 profile views
Latest Journalread more ...
Well, as surprised as many of you are at the news from the title, it actually makes a huge difference for my writings here. As most of you guys, a.k.a. my readers, are probably aware, Rohan's Journey has become quite deeply entrenched in adult themes. Namely, those of the nature unsuitable for minors. And while I certainly do not intend on becoming a 'clean' writer, I don't believe that I'll be having such occurrences quite so often, if at all, at least in this story.
I've had some time to think about the story, the plot, where I want it to go. Comparing now, at the end of the last chapter I've written, to the beginning, I'm saddened to say I've strayed far from the path I originally intended. Oh, certainly, the main points are the same, Rohan and Kitara, Toren, the wolves, Lashen, Tanis, Ekimi and Etini, but I never intended for it to become quite so graphic.
In short, the story I intended is gone. It's become a fan-service. I don't want to write it because I want to make...
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