ᴄʜᴀᴏꜱ ʙᴏᴜɴᴅ

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February 19th, 2020




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Age: 32
Country: United Kingdom

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January 14, 2020


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02/12/2020 11:47 PM 

Memories .001

Lights.

If there was one thing he missed most about living in a First World country it had to be lights. People often took them for granted, something that was there and not really worth paying attention to, but when one lived in complete darkness day in and day out, lights end up being a luxury one could only dream of affording.


"Astayqiz!"

He had heard those words more often than he could count and not one time did he appreciate them or the person who said it. His Arabic was sloppy, to say the least. Hell, it was essentially nonexistent but being a prisoner of war, one had to learn to adapt quickly for the sake of their survival. Jumping to his feet, he moved across the space of the room and slipped into a corner. It was required for him to get a meal. Follow directions. Get food. Pretty simple.

"Ailtafa hawlah!"

More shouting. Did they ever think speaking in a normal volume might yield the same results? Perhaps they had considered it but they weren't here to play nice. This man was a prisoner - their prisoner - and he was not to be treated with respect. To them, he was nothing but an kalib 'amrikiin, an American dog, and therefore did not deserve to be treated as anything but one. From what he saw, they treated their actual dogs a hell of a lot better than they treated him.

Back facing the man concealed by a patterned scarf, he listened for the telltale sign of a metal tray hitting the floor. They never dignified him by placing it there. No, they tossed it like they tossed scraps to animals. He was nothing but an animal. He was less than an animal.

The sound of the heavy metal door clanging shut and locking was his signal to eat though the sight of the meal before him made him question whether starvation was a better option than being tortured. The meal, whatever it was, was swimming in maggots and this wasn't the first time they gave him such. To be treated humanely was a luxury he could not afford. Lifting the tray from the dirt and sand covered ground, his fingers deftly picked off a few of the maggots and tore into the bread and stew-like concoction. It tasted stale and it was cold but it was better than nothing. 

02/12/2020 11:47 PM 

Jealousy

jealousy
She wasn't home. That was the first sign that she was probably mad at him though, for what, he wasn't entirely certain. Was it because he didn't come home last night? Or the past three nights for that matter? Was it because he refused to answer her calls? Was it because when his phone was answered there was another woman on the line? Signe didn't want to listen to reason which only irritated him. She hung up without letting him state his case. She simply disregarded him and his existence which hurt more than if she had slapped him across the face.

Making his way down to the club, he could feel the electric energy of their kin. Wolves of all make and size lingered here. He had never been in a place so full of others like him and it was almost intoxicating. Shaking his head clear of depraved thoughts, he made his way inside. Nostrils flared attempting to catch her scent but the medley of other wolves made finding her next to impossible. Then again, he wasn't known as an excellent tracker for nothing.

Shutting his eyes, he focused on her heartbeat. He knew her pattern from anyone else's. It took a minute but soon he pinpointed her location and moved like a hawk in her direction. What he saw made his blood boil. In the middle of the dance floor was Signe dancing - no, writhing - against another male who had his hands all over her, nose gliding along her neck where her mark - his doing - was on display. She seemed to be enjoying herself as they rocked and swayed against one another. Stepping up, the wolf growled to let his presence be known. The male glanced toward him then murmured something in Signe's ear. Through thick lashes, she peered upward at him and smirked. Oh, she was asking for punishment. His hand itched to swat right across her bottom or tangle fingers into her hair and drag her outside. Hell, he'd be fine ripping her clothes off right here and showing everyone who she belonged to.

"Jealous?" Her tone held that twisted humor knowing full well she won whatever fight this was.

Jealous? He narrowed his gaze, arms crossed over his chest. "No, Signe. I'm not jealous. I'm simply wondering when you will be home after you finish playing with your little toy." His tone monotonous which he knew pissed her off the way her smugness pissed him off.

The male pawing all over his mate chuckled then stepped up to Daniel. "Yo, piss ant, she ain't goin' home wit' you so F*** OFF." The minute his hand reached for Daniel's Armani suit, grimy fingers dirtying the finely pressed material, the man snapped. Taking his wrist in his hand, he brought the other hand up and hit him directly at the elbow causing it to bend in the opposite direction. The wolf howled in pain, knees buckling as he fell. Daniel finally released him, turning his attention back to HIS female and took her by her hand. "No more games. Come home now."



02/09/2020 05:46 PM 

Shame Drabble

shame
Shame and Regret were one in the same. At least that's how he saw it. Memories of a time of war were enough to send him into a fit of rage. Memories of pain, suffering and the screams of dozens of women and children were enough to make him mad. He often said he regretted nothing but there was shame in his heart; a black mark on his soul. He was responsible for the pointless death of dozens. 

All because of one man.
All because he wanted to prove a point.

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