I was born here in this island jungle, to a family of normal xweetoks. Well, normal tribe xweetoks. Tribe xweetoks you see, don't look like me at all. They have dark brown fur and usually black and white markings, with the occasional greenish marking. And every single one of them has wise, dark blue eyes... Sorry for going off like that. Anyway, from the moment I was born, my parents knew I would be trouble. My odd coloring proved to them that I was a bad omen. But they loved me all the same... or so they led on. Now that I look back, I don't think they ever really loved me. They saw me simply as an ugly, unwanted child, who would do what her parents asked for affection.

I grew up, blissfully unaware of how much my parents disliked me, but I was quite aware of how much the other tribe members disliked me. From the moment I stepped out of our family's den, I was eyed reproachfully, scorned, and hated. I was ridiculed every day of my life. I was the outcast of the tribe. The one who would never be loved. The one who would never be good at anything. The one who would amount to nothing. But despite how much every member of my tribe hated me, I tried to be optimistic. I tried to be kind and the one that everyone would want to be friends with. But they didn't care. My tribe was so... so... so vain. But I guess being vain wasn't just the end of it. I was considered bad luck for the tribe. Ever since I was born, they say, more and more jungle kougras attacked our tribe, taking our food, and occasionally, our kits. For this, I was truly hated.

In our tribe, we were trained to use the wind, an ability that every tribe member possessed, even me. We used the wind as powerful blades that formed around our legs, allowing us to 'swift step' as we called it, and allowing us to slice our enemies, as though the wind blades were true metal blades. And as a female, I was also taught the way of the enchanting wind song. We used nature and the sound of the breeze to create an enchanting music that forces all who hear to do our biding. During lessons, I was taunted and pranked by the xweetoks of my own age in my tribe. Even our teacher hated me, purposefully embarrassing me in front of everybody. As if my existence wasn't embarrassing enough. But I think another reason why they all hated me so, was because they expected me to amount to nothing. And yet, I was the most skilled at using our wind abilities. Even more so than the chief, as they discovered later. But as a child, despite my natural talent for wind manipulation, I didn't like to use it. I often skipped lessons to work on crafting. Instead of using wind blades, I used handcarved weapons that I made myself.

I think my real 'life story' began the day I was to graduate from the tribe...well.. I guess you could call it a sort of school... But really just the series of lessons I mentioned earlier. I mean they didn't just teach wind manipulation. We learned all about tribe life. Hunting, our culture, crafting (My favorite of course) and so on and so forth. Anyway, all the madness began the day I was to become a true member of the tribe.

(Story will now be told in 3rd person)

On the day of Qamoli's acceptance into the tribe as a true member, she was required to demonstrate what she had learned for the tribe leader. "As the youngest to be accepted today, you shall perform first." she was told blandly by her teacher. Qamoli nodded and stood on her spot in the middle of the tribe's camp. All other tribe members gathered around her, the chief facing her directly. She wore bracelets of reeds and palm leaves as well as colorful beads around her neck and hair, just as all her fellow graduates were. She stood, shaking slightly, waiting for the chief to signal that she should begin. His face solemn and sinister, as it always was, he nodded ever so slightly and she began.

She began with a tribal wind dance, followed up by a demonstration of her wind blade technique. She performed the most enchanting of wind songs and before all their eyes, she created a beautifully crafted tribal spear. Throughout her entire performance, the chief showed no emotions and the rest of the tribe glared spitefully. Not a single cheer rose as she finished. If it wasn't for the prejudice everyone held against her, she would have passed and praised. But, to nobody's surprise but her own, the chief growled for her to stop and make a signifying flick of his tail. Instead of passing and becoming the tribe member she was meant to be, she was failed. The circle of tribemates around her closed ranks, malicious eyes and subtle grins surrounded her. Failure from the tribe meant she would be banished and shunned. Forever. Even her parents did nothing to help her. But they had never loved her anyway, and they would do anything to protect their high ranking in the tribe.

The young tribe xweetok was grabbed by the scruff by her tribe leader as the other tribe members closed in around her. His eyes did not meet hers, but he showed no signs of guilt. He looked, if he ever showed any emotion at, rather pleased at the fact that the child who was more accomplished than himself would be thrown out of the tribe like a mere rat. Qamoli was dragged out into the dark wilds of the island jungle. Tears streamed from her eyes, for she had done nothing wrong, and yet, somehow, she knew that this had been coming. She said nothing to the tribe leader. She did not protest, and did not try to escape, for she knew that he would not hesitate to kill her. Although she was more skilled with her abilities than even him, he was much stronger and, as a member of the tribe, would not even be affected by her enchanting song. When she and the tribe leader reached the edge of jungle kougra territory, he literally threw the young girl into the trees.

Your name is no longer worthy to be spoken. You have been banished from the tribe and you may no longer call yourself a tribe xweetok. If you dare ever return, you shall be killed without question." And with that, the image of the tribe leader disappeared from Qamoli's view. Small cold and alone, Qamoli wept silently through the night, stopping only when she began to hear the kougras on the prowl.

For three lonely years, Qamoli lived in fear and paranoia, not only from the jungle kougras roaming the land she now lived on, but in fear that she could never go back home. And the fear that if she did, the ones she grew up with would kill her. But while living away from all the others, she was able to refine her techniques and develope her own. She survived by hunting and fighting through every day of her life. She became a hardened, wild, jungle xweetok, ready to kill when threatened. She acted on instinct and became more linked to the nature around her than any other living thing on the island. It was this ability to connect to the nature around her that alerted her to the tribe's darkest day.

It was late into the night when Qamoli was awoken by a strange shift in the winds. Her eyes immediately flickered open, alert of everything going on in the jungle. It was oddly silent for so late in the night. The night hunters of the jungle should have been extremely active at this time, but there was absolute silence. Qamoli stretched and perked her ears, alert for anything strange. Suddenly, the faint smell of smoke caught her nose, and a sudden loud, sharp crack rung in her ears. Alarmed, Qamoli dashed through the trees and skidded to a halt at the edge of tribe territory. She faltered. If she was caught on tribe territory again, she would be killed, but the overwhelming scent of smoke, and now mixed with the scent of fresh blood pushed her onwards past the boundary she had, for three years, avoided.

Panting, the nine year old xweetok sprinted through the trees, branches whipping her face. She slowed down when she knew she was close to the tribe camp. If nothing was wrong, they would not hesitate to attack, she knew this. But if something was wrong... Without giving it another thought, Qamoli burst through the trees, into the tribal camp. Here eyes widened at the scene in front of her, and immediately, she hid herself away behind a nearby bush. Peering through the leaves, Qamoli took in the scene taking place in the place she had once called home. The ground was splattered with crimson blood, bodies of tribe xweetoks littered the camp. This was not the work of a jungle kougra attack. Every den was crushed and strange tracks scarred the ground. Qamoli's mouth was wide open and tears streamed from her eyes. Despite how much these xweetoks had hated her, she was a mere child, and the loss of her home and family was devastating. Her bright orange eyes scanned the crowd of dead and wounded bodies until they came to rest on the bodies of her parents, and the body of the chief.

Without thinking Qamoli abandoned her hiding spot and dashed into the center of the camp, running to her parents side. "Mother?" she asked quietly, nuzzling her mother's motionless body. Her mother groaned and blinked her eyes open slowly. "Qamoli?" she asked hoarsely, unable to see the features of her child clearly, but able to tell simply by her color. "You need to leave. The hunters..." she was cut off and let out a yelp as Qamoli's father sunk his teeth into his mate's tail. "Don't speak to that worm of a child, Sanojya." he hissed, blood dripping from his jaws, a small round wound bleeding constantly from his side. Qamoli's eyes began to tear again. "Father..." "Don't speak to me you insignificant whelp. You're lucky I can't move my body, or you'd be dead." he growled, letting go of Sanojya's tail. Sanojya hissed, but let her eyelids drop and her body fall limp, breathing ever so slightly, but ready to accept her fate.

Tears continued to stream from Qamoli's large orange eyes, looking from her injured and beaten mother, to her un-loving and wounded father. Her father continued to growl at his daughter and she had no choice but to move away, leaving her parents in the middle of the camp. She saw the chief a few feet away, although he was still standing. He never did fall easily. Qamoli inched towards the large, bleeding tribe xweetok, wondering if he might accept her help, even if her parents didn't.

As she neared him, she felt as though she could hear him panting. Hear his heart beating. He suddenly turned his head her direction, then turned back, not even looking back. "You were banished." he snarled, wincing as blood gushed from a deep wound on his side. "Leave now before I use the last of my strength to destroy you." Qamoli shook form head to toe, but she still neared him. "You're injured Leader, please let me help." The chief snarled then let out a fearsome roar. "Accepting help from you would make my living worse than death!" Qamoli jumped back, and suddenly, a loud and sharp bang rung out through the silent jungle and the tribe chief collapsed to the ground, dripping in scarlet, eyes wide open and angry. Qamoli screamed and shuddered, ready to sprint away. But that bang... it was not a normal sound. She crept over to the chief's motionless body and saw a small round wound, one that had not been there before.

Qamoli observed it for a moment, forgetting that whatever had caused it, was still around. Suddenly, the sound of thundering footsteps behind her made the young xweetok whip around and gaze in astonishment. Before her, stood a tall, tanned, bald figure of a creature she had only heard about, but never come into contact with in her life. A human. "One left." the human grunted, smiling, showing browning and crooked teeth. "This one's diff'nt though." he murmured. "Bag it anyway." came a voice from behind him. Another human, shorter and not as physically strong, but his eyes told Qamoli that HE was the leader of the two. "Whatever you says boss." the larger one slurred, pulling out a long, shining machine. The machine let out a click and a fat finger made to pull back on the trigger, but Qamoli was not an idiot. She quickly sprinted away, using her swift step to flee. She heard the banging of the gun, but she didn't dare turn around.

After a lot of running, she could no longer hear the shots of the gun, and slowed her step. But her keen ears could still hear faint yelling of the humans. "That tribe thing was different from all the others! Its pelt would sell way more than all the others! And you let it go! I will NOT, repeat NOT stop until we get that thing!" Qamoli shook, tears streaming down her cheeks. She was no longer safe. Not in the tribe territory, and not on the island. She would have to run. Run far away. But where can one run, when you're on an island?

With no other choice, the nine year old tribe xweetok dragged her paws back to her den, gathered the few things that she had, and immediately set out for the island's shore. Sitting there, was a large boat filled with hunting supplies a while way off the shore and a small rowboat, used to take the men from the shore to the larger ship. Without thinking, Qamoli butted her head against the small boat until she freed it from the sand. Quickly, she jumped into the boat with the little supplies she had brought with her. She leaned over the back of the boat, dipping her paws in the water. Wind formed around her paws, propelling the boat forward like a motor. When she could no longer see the island behind her, she lifted her sopping wet paws out of the ocean and drifted off in her boat, going who knows where.

(Back to 1st person)

I sail in that little boat until I reached the mainland. From there, I spent the next six years as an explorer, but that was simply my cover. No one questions where an explorer goes, or why they're going there, so no one knew that I was running from hunters. Extremely persistent hunters. I've run into those men a few times in the past, but theya re never fast enough to catch me. They did give me a nasty bullet wound in the shoulder, but luckily, I recovered and was able to dig out the bullet. This island IS the island I left, but I often return here after I've shaken them off. Mostly to pay my respects, but I'm still strangely tied to this place. It carries so many bad memories, but I can't stay away for long. I know if I do, and something happens to this place, I...I... I don't know what. I'd probably die myself. But that's my story. I'm sorry I wasted your time...

Ryliki

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Vihath

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Cytofire

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Lucas

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Zar're

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It was hot. The only thought that filtered through Arkan's mind was the aforementioned. His fur felt prickly and hot, and he was getting tired - the heat was seeping the strength right out of him. He was not worried about dying, but if he fainted, his body was open to anyone or anything that happened across him. He plodded forward a few steps before sinking to the ground underneath a large palm tree, gasping for breath. 'How did I get here anyway?' He thought briefly. 'I don't know, but if I can't leave, I'm done.

Bright orange eyes fixated on the strange black figure, plodding desperately through the humid jungle. She knew she had sensed a strange, rather dark presence a while ago, but this creature seemed as though he would not survive long enough to get off the island. She could help, or she could feed the jungle kourgas. She actually contemplated the selection for a moment, but knew she would end up helping the poor sap anyway. And so, she crept out of the denser trees into view of the strange xweetok.

He started as the other xweetok came into view, leaping to his feet as best he could, eyes narrowing in suspicion. He now wished that he had his cape, despite the heat - it made him appear more foreboding. He swayed where he stood, fighting with his body to keep standing. At last Arkan tumbled once again to the earth, where he lay, at the mercy of the other xweetok. "Go on then, finish me off." His voice was coarse and rough from the lack of water.

Qamoli said nothing, simply looking down at the other xweetok. her face showed no emotions as she lowered her head to his neck. Instead of sinking her teeth into his neck had she would have done if she were actually fighting him, she sunk her teeth instead into the scruff of his neck and dragged him along the jungle floor. She released her grip on him once she had dragged him to her camp. Without saying anything, she retrieved coconut shell filled with fresh water. She moved it to where he could reach it. "Drink." she said plainly.

He looked at her with an odd, confused (e)xpression. "You didn't attack." His voice cracked and he finally relented, dipping his head to drink from the coconut. Once it was empty, Arkan sat up, strength already somewhat returned to his limbs. "Why is that? There are many out there that would have taken the opportunity to finish me off right then and there.

Qamoli didn't smile but simply answered. "What, you would have wanted me to just kill you? I would suspect you would have rather lived but..." she shrugged. "Anyway what is your business here?

Well...no." He sighed. She had a point. Arkan shifted his paws a bit on the earth, looking down to hide his embarrassment. "I got lost." It was the half-truth...Arkan had gotten lost, but in ways that were different than were expected. He had been trying to warp using the shadows, but they had carried him off to a different location than he had expected.

Lost on your way to where?" she chuckled. The island was pretty much in the middle of nowhere. Unless he was a sailor of some sort (which didn't seem likely) he was either lying or not telling the whole truth. She shrugged and turned away from him, beginning to pull together all her things. It was about time she got going.

His eyes narrowed at her laughs. "Somewhere for me to know, and you not to." In truth he was really going nowhere in particular, accept maybe to the desert to visit a friend. Warping was not familiar territory for Arkan, and he had belittled himself for not touching at that part of his shadows for nigh around 90 years. He rose to his feet, a little shaky, but definatley able to stand this time. "Although I wish it was not so, I am indebted to you. May I inquire as to your name?

Qamoli." was simple answer. "And you aren't indebted to me if it isn't your wish to be so." It was true, she didn't need his help or gratitude if he didn't wish to give it to her. "I suppose, that if you are going to be on your way, I too shall be on mine. If you need assistance to get off the island, you are welcome to join me. My boat is strong enough for two and supplies." She shrugged and finished her gathering of supplies. "I'll be off. Come if you must." And with that, she started to walk away through the dense island jungle.

He frowned at her answer, both intrigued and somewhat frustrated by it. "How curious..." he murmured, mostly to himself; but shaking his head, Arkan slowly followed after her. "An island. I had perceived to be so." Padding alongside Quamoli, he gestured to the wild plant life around them. "Where exactly is all of this located? Large scale. I don't seem to recall ever coming across this place in any of my travels, and I have been many places." Arkan, despite his wishes, was a horridly curious person by nature; being ageless left you rather bored, and therefore you had to come up with solutions to your boredom. Knowing as much as he could learn happened to be Arkan's.

So you travel as well. Funny. You strike me more as the stay at home kind of guy." she remarked sarcastically. "The island is uncharted and sometimes thought of as a mirage. Not many come here, unless they KNOW it's here. Don't get me wrong. There's absolutely nothing magically about it. It simply isn't bothered, most of the time..." She shrugged and sped up her pace. The trees were beginning to thin and soon she burst through the jungle and her paws met soft sand. "Ahh." she said, closing her, enjoying the feeling of the sun-baked sand. She sighed, content, but it didn't last long. her ears pricked at the sound of unusual ripples and wakes of the ocean. She opened her eyes and hissed in anger. "They're here." she growled.

Calmly ignoring her sarcastic remark with a flick of his barbed-wire covered tail, he nodded to her words. "I had guessed as much. A mirage, eh? I suppose that makes you not real." He was able to take and receive jibes just as much as the rest of us, despite first appearances. Arkan breathed in a large lungful of the salty ocean air, welcoming the feel of sand instead of plant life. His mood changed quickly, however, at Qamoli's sudden change. "Who's here?" He asked quietly, eyes narrowing and his body automatically shifting into defense.

She ignored his "not real" comment, even if it was slightly true. Her identity was pretty much erased. The only thing that identified her in any way was gone. "The hunters." she hissed. "Never mind, we have to go." Small tunnels of wind formed around her paws, speeding her step. She ran to the edge of the beach and began to push her boat off the beach. "Come on!" she yelled at Arkan. Suddenly she heard a loud bang from the other end of the beach. The sound of guns.

Hunters?" But he didn't have time to question further at the sound of guns. Bolting forward, he pushed at the boat with his shoulder, throwing his weight into it. His eyes flickered to Qamoli's paws and the air that whirled around them; he would have to question her later about that. If there was a later.

Get in!" she yelled, tackling him head-first into the boat, leaping in after him. She thrust her paws into the water, wind still swirling around them, and used the propulsion from the wind to push the boat forward at an amazingly fast speed, like a motor. The small wooden boat jetted out over the salty ocean water, ocean spray stinging Qamoli's eyes. When they were far enough out, Qamoli lifted her sopping paws out of the water, panting as though she had just sprinted hundreds of miles. She sighed, allowing herself to relax. It wasn't as close of a shave as she had gotten into a few other times, but the hunters were the last thing she wanted to deal with right now.

He was surprised by her sudden, frenzied actions, and Arkan sat up carefully. He eyed her through narrow eyes. "Explain." He felt no need for pleasantries; now he was stuck with her in this little boat in the middle of who knows where. And they had just run from these mysterious 'Hunters', which he was also curious about.

Qamoli sighed. "Long story short, the guys who shot the guns are human hunters. They've been after me for a few years. They killed the rest of my tribe, selling their pelts and cooking their meat." she growled. "I'm the last of the tribe, and they're determined to track me down and kill me because my coat was so different from the rest of my tribe. One of a kind." She shrugged. "The way I look has always caused me trouble." She yawned. "Any other questions?

He paused for a moment before shaking his head. "No. And...I'm sorry." He no longer had any family left - they had all been long dead since he had hit 50, over 40 years ago. Sighing, Arkan glanced around them, his eyes narrowing at the glint of sun on water. "So we're stuck now." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. "How do we get out?

Qamoli shrugged. "We're not stuck. Shore is about..." she thought for a moment. "A few miles away from here." She pointed her paw in the direction, and sure enough, there was blot of land on the horizon. "Don't worry. We'll be there in a bit." She dipped her paws back into the water, wind whipping around her paws once more, propelling them in the direction of land.

It is." He sighed, rubbing his eyes. The sun was irritating and painful, giving him a bad headache, especially to someone like him who had spent his entire life living in the shadows. Heck, he was the shadows. "Can you hurry?" Arkan groaned as his headache escalated into something akin to a migraine.

What are you? A vampire or something?" she asked sarcastically, poking fun at how much he couldn't stand the sunlight. But despite her taunts, the wind swirling around her paws increased in speed and the little boat sped up. It bounced along the choppy waters, getting closer and closer to that little blot of land on the horizon. "Almost there." she murmured, and then it struck her. What would happen when they reached the mainland? Arkan would no doubt be on his way and she would continue to be like a mouse running away from two cats.

No," Arkan groaned, holding his head in his hands, "But close enough. I'm the shadows, if that makes any sense." The black crescent moon necklace of his shimmered and then his cape appeared around his shoulders, the hood pulled up and over his eyes. "Ah...better, although not much..." he sighed, leaning over to let a paw trail in the water. "So what's your deal? I mean, what was up with the hunters going after you and your family?

A golden figure maneuvered lightly through the dense trees of the island jungle. A long thin spear was clamped between her jaws. On the end of the spear, hung a cloth sack, and by the sickly sweet aroma that wafted from it, it was likely to contain exotic fruit of some variety. The figure stepped lightly onto the burning white sand, her right paw prints swept away almost immediately by the ocean breeze. It was about time she get off this island for a while.

Meanwhile, another figure flew in circles over the island. He looked down at the water, wincing a little. He hated water, not being able to swim. The figure, which judging by appearance was definitely a xweetok, beat his bat-like wings a few times and soared down into the island curiously. Suddenly, a gust of wind hit the wings, blowing him off course and sending him flying toward the ocean. The xweetok fell in the water and flailed helplessly. "HELP!" he whimpered, trying hard to keep his head above the waves.

The golden xweetok dropped her things, looking up at the sound of the cry. She saw a form with bat-like wings being tossed back and forth by the crashing, foaming waves. Twitching her ears, the xweetok bounded forward over the sun-baked sand and dove into the water, her fur immediately sticking to her body. She swam with powerful legs over to the thrashing figure. "Calm down!" she called over the roaring waves, but it was no help. She ducked her head under the salty water and grabbed other xweetok by the scruff of the neck and pulled him ashore.

The dark xweetok felt someone pulling his scruff, and he looked back to see another xweetok. Once at the shore, he pulled away and shook the water off his fur. "...Thanks" he mumbled, feeling embarrassed about the whole scene. He flexed his wings, which were tattered from the pressure of the ocean currents. The xweetok cursed under his breath. He knew his wings were fragile, he should have been more careful.

Yeah." she muttered. The golden xweetok didn't meet the other's eyes, but instead, grabbed her spear from the place on the shore she had dropped it. She shook salt and water off of her fur and walked closer to the ocean, allowing the waves to lap at her paws. She squinted her bright orange eyes, looking desperately for her boat. She had forgotten to check it after the storm a while ago, and for all she knew, it could be halfway to the mainland by now. She hissed, annoyed.

The dark xweetok felt guilty, seeing the stranger was annoyed. "..I'm sorry if I caused any trouble, I really am.." he said. He hated disappointing others. "It's just...I can't swim and..." He stopped, thinking of what else he could say. "Is there anything I could do in return?" he offered shyly.

The female turned her head to look at the other xweetok. "Sorry. I'm not annoyed at you. It just seems as though I've lost my only way of this wretched island." She sighed and sat down, staring longingly out at the sea, wishing she could fly like the other so she wouldn't be tethered every time she lost her means of transportation.

Oh, I see. I'm Ithiopa, by the way." he introduced. "This island doesn't seem so bad to me, but I just got here. Are you stranded here or something?" The question sounded pretty obvious to him, but he was just curious.

Not exactly..." she said, trailing off. "I'm Qamoli. I was just visiting the island, but now I am somewhat stranded I suppose." She shrugged. "So what brings you here Ithiopa?" she asked curiously. She could tell that he was nice enough. Not the kind coming to harm the island, and certainly not the hunter type.

Please, call me Thio. I was running away to get away from my family for a while." Ithiopa explained. "And then I ended up here. I can't stand the chaos back at home sometimes. I never get a moment to myself to practice my piano." Thio smiled shyly. He was glad this stranger was being so nice after what he got her into.

Chaos of your family?" she smiled. Although her heart felt heavy at the thought of her family, she understood where he was coming from. "Well, you're welcome to stay here. I suppose I won't be leaving anyway..." she sighed. She wouldn't be able to stay much more than an extra few days before the hunters caught up with her, but it would give her enough time to construct a raft that would be able to take her off this cursed sandbar.

Thanks." Thio sighed, stretching his tattered wings. "Qamoli...would you happen to have any bandages or something for my wings... I can't fly home with damaged wings..." He felt like hurting himself for getting into this mess, but resisted the urge. One major injury was enough to deal with. That, and it would not be very polite of him to hurt himself like some savage.

Not bandages the way you may be use to them." she laughed. "Come on." she murmured, flicking her tail, signaling him to follow her. She lead him into the jungle of island, her nose lifted to the air. "I'm just looking for some aloe leaves. And then we'll bandage up that wind of yours." She found a small aloe plant and pulled it up out of the earth with her teeth. Carrying the plant in her teeth, she brought them deeper into the jungle until the trees parted and come into a small clearing where she made camp. She dropped the aloe plant on the ground, then broke apart the leaves. From inside the leaves, she allowed the strange aloe substance to leak onto her paw. She smiled at Thio and slathered the substance on his injured wings.

Omigawsh :3 This goes so perfectly! I like cookies ^^ TADAH!