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Please read!
Hello there, guest. I'm Tori, and I am Taunt's owner and creator of this page (and hostess of the music so don't steal). I'll start off by saying that this has been a long, arduous process, creating Taunt's page. The content and story and all the hop-options were by no means easy, but I think that this is also the most creative out of my pet's personal realms. I'd love to thank Tawreh for doing all the art that you see on this page and SamK for coding help. Kudos also go out to everyone (especially you all in Shookz; love ya to death) who made Taunt a lovely adoptable. Without all of you, this page wouldn't have been possible.

Oh yes, and before you go be sure to check out the F.A.Q. (#FAQ) and credit sections on this page. Don't even bother neomailing me if you haven't read the F.A.Q.'s, please. Questions answered in that section that are sent to me anyway are annoying as can be. But I'm a nice person, so I won't bite your head off if you do send an answered question. Just don't expect me to be super kind about it.

Now, what's this that you hear about hop-options? Let me explain.

Taunt's page is set up like an adventure. These passages are eloquent because they are supposed to make you feel like you're in the story. After all, this is supposed to be an imaginative page. So I implore you to read the passage and then select the option you find suitable. It's very simple. There are choices beneath these sections and you simply click on them. Either one is a direct link so you'll get somewhere either way. And just for the record, this page is NO FUN and will confuse you if you try to scroll. There are lots and lots of options and they're not all in order, so be sure to use the links! Enjoy yourself, guest, and prepare for a totally new petpage experience. :)

Let's go on an adventure!

I'll just take a patch and go...

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Updates!
















































































































































































































































































































































































































































At first, guest felt nothing.
Numbness was a breathless experience. It was like they'd just dropped off the face of the earth and were now floating miles above. The incident was by far the most out-of-body that had ever before happened to guest, whose mind was just beginning to gnash its gears together to create thoughts. And the first that came was of a black bird, an ink blot against a white sky. Its wings barely moved as it was swept along updrafts and plummeted downward when the wing patterns changed. guest was chasing after it, their breath curling out in front of them. Chilly. Fair breeze. Not cold enough so that they had to double back to Babushka's cozy cabin to grab their down coat. Besides. The bird was flying away.
guest reached their hand toward the sky, grasping blindly with their fingers as they laughed the laugh of an innocent child. Their immature legs couldn't keep up with the winged creature, and soon the ebony bird was out of sight.
With a jolt guest was brought to their current situation. The memory seemed to jog their body into motion, for guest's fingertips began twitching and burning. Were these phantom flames that licked across their body? Surely not, for when guest opened their eyes all that could be seen was white. A weak cry escaped their lips as they bent their elbow, and the ensuing pop assured guest that this was not flame, but its opposite, its foe: ice. It had formed on their joints; crisped the folds of their jacket. The mountain traveler made a feeble attempt to rise to their hips, or at least to raise their face out of the snow. Energy was running low, and they cried out at a sharp tearing in their left leg. Forcing all of their strength to their shoulders, guest heaved themselves so that they sat on properly on their bottom.
For once there was not complete whiteness. A ring of red circled the place where pain emanated.
A pair of shiny, steely jaws were latched on. It had quite obviously shattered their leg bone. guest flicked their tongue out to wet their beyond-chapped lips and then bit down hard. The reason they were here eluded them at the moment, but another thought was up and front: how to get free of the steel trap�and further, how to survive.
Memories of a beloved Babushka came forth, and tears sprang to guest's eyes. Why would those happy thoughts surface now? Confused, angered, horrified, guest kicked their movable leg and screamed. Nobody was coming. Nobody ever would. It seemed truly pointless to even struggle against nature at this point. Besides�even though the wind whipped across their exposed face like a million knives and the driving snow was so fast and furious that guest could barely see past the blood patch, it was bizarrely and eerily soothing. It was like a murderous lullaby, luring guest to close their eyes to the cold and the pain. And it was more tempting than the sweetest siren song.
For once, snow was striking a sweet deal. guest let their heavy eyes flicker close, almost savoring the shade of their eyelids against the stark white nothingness of wherever they were right then.
It was so�so warm�and Babushka was smiling benevolently, surrounded by a peaceful silver haze�
Her hand was outstretched�
A smile creased guest's cracked, bleeding lips as they turned out their surroundings. The warmth just kept coming� Stop, a gruff voice commanded, followed by a freezing, wet nose in the side of their neck. Open your eyes.
Both the image of Babushka and guest's smile slipped away slowly as the voice's words were heeded. A tall, lean black canine stood in their direct field of vision, and its visage was dead serious. For a minute the wind spoke for them, whispering and rushing past, cold as the wolf's silver eyes. Then the voice, undoubtedly feminine, came again, this time from the canine's mouth. You're freezing�she said distractedly. I'll get your leg out. From there you can try to find shelter of your own or you can come with me.
Before guest could protest the female tore the steel trap open, utilizing her own steely jaws and powerful paws, and pulled the lame leg out. guest howled and felt those unforeseen tears fall down their cheeks from the combined agony and relief. Although they knew that the wolf had saved their life, guest wasn't quite sure they'd wanted just that. Their own eyes met those distant silver ones, and before guest could say a word of anger or thanks to the canine, she turned and began to trudge away.
."Wait," guest called softly, hand outstretched like they were reaching for the bird again.
She didn't listen.

Follow the wolf or go your own way.















































































































































































































































































































































































































































Where's your sense of adventure? Oh well. Thanks for choosing to take a link, at least. :)


<a href="neopets.com/~Taunt_"> <img src="http://i143.photobucket.com/albums/r127/athenadoom/tauntbutton.png" border=0 alt="Wrath."></a>


<a href="neopets.com/~Taunt_"> <img src="http://blackfirehoundoom.zoomshare.com/files/taunt_50.PNG" border=0 alt="Wrath."></a>


<a href="neopets.com/~Taunt_"> <img src="http://i143.photobucket.com/albums/r127/athenadoom/taunt_8133.png" border=0 alt="Wrath."></a>















































































































































































































































































































































































































































guest blinked the snowflakes from their eyelashes and swept their hand across their face. So, the wolf was gone. It probably wasn't wise to have relied on a random talking creature anyway. With their memories freshly upturned and eyes stinging from the freeze and the tears, guest turned on their hip and began to grope their way through the white as they slid on their bottom.

Why did this happen to me?

As they pondered this question, guest felt the ground beneath them crumble beneath their weight. The snow they'd been sliding down was unstable and began to spill down the hillside with guest on top. The weary mountaineer didn't fight the miniature avalanche as they were tossed down through snowdrifts and hills. When the ground evened out and guest's mind stopped reeling, they pried their tired eyes open to survey where they were. They'd landed face down, similar to the way they had been in the beginning, and no better off.
With a tiny groan guest heaved themselves to a sitting position and shook the powder from inside their jacket. After they recuperated a bit more, guest swung their head to the side. Their eyes landed on a piece of parchment that shivered in the lee of a stone. Their eyes narrowed, #VISTIOR stooped and picked the yellowed piece of paper up. The handwriting on it was an elegant cursive, a style that curled and swooped dramatically. It read:

What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats...

Pass this on, you whom I have saved.

Puzzled, guest turns the paper over in their hand. Sure enough, there is a small square embellished with the silhouettes of a wolf and a crow. With their head turned to where the sun would be, guest tucked both the parchment and the patch into their pocket. If this happening high in the mountains was not a dream, the items would still be nestled in the pouch when guest reached home.
guest had a feeling it would.
A ghostly, sad, hauntingly beautiful voice carried down on the wind. It tickled guest's ears like the breeze tickles a wind chime.

Go...home...guest...


<a href="neopets.com/~Taunt_"> <img src="http://i143.photobucket.com/albums/r127/athenadoom/tauntbutton.png" border=0 alt="Wrath."></a>


<a href="neopets.com/~Taunt_"> <img src="http://blackfirehoundoom.zoomshare.com/files/taunt_50.PNG" border=0 alt="Wrath."></a>


<a href="neopets.com/~Taunt_"> <img src="http://i143.photobucket.com/albums/r127/athenadoom/taunt_8133.png" border=0 alt="Wrath."></a>















































































































































































































































































































































































































































The tears that blazed in their eyes caused guest's gaze to quiver and dance as they limped after the dark gray wolf. Why�how did she manage to spring the trap when a human with proper appendages stood a better chance? Was sanity slipping away at so high an altitude? Or maybe�Babushka's spirit was speaking through this oddly-colored canine? The questions served as burdens as guest crawled after the wolf, whose silhouette slipped in and out of view through the shifting walls of snow. A few more times they called out for her, but each time they were met with the cold shoulder. guest was completely and blatantly ignored. It was as if their presence was not known.
Had guest not put a certain amount of trust in this canine, they would have stopped to crawl under a snowdrift and end their sorrows there and then. At least they would have gone easy. But a rabid curiosity about the canine spurred them forward, at times urging guest to grab clumps of snow in their fists and heave themselves with all the strength in their body. The snow burned like fire, and guest knew their hands were probably going to fall off eventually, but they couldn't be deterred. This canine was leading toward what was almost definitely shelter and a sanctuary from the raging conditions of this place.
Then again, she could be leading directly to a trap. She and her pack could possibly be planning an ambush and guest was to be their victim. After all, if this wolf was capable of freeing him from a trap, she was probably capable of setting up more elaborate ones. A nagging suspicion makes guest slow to a crawl, and the opposing thoughts debate.

Keep following or head downhill?















































































































































































































































































































































































































































Too embarrassed to admit to the wolf that they do not know anything about the parcel they carry, guest turned their head so that they never had to look into those steely silver eyes again. With a heavy heart they begin retracing their steps, which turned out to be surprisingly easy because they simply followed the faint pink trail until it exploded to bright red where the trap's jaws hung open on its hinges. guest winced as their limp leg bumped against a rock beneath the surface of the snow, further irritating the shattered bone. Sharp, huffy breaths and trembling hands made for less than ideal conditions to trek with. guest had never felt such pain, nor in such a way as this. It came in waves, undulating through their body and swelling like a moonhigh tide. It � the pain � came from many sources: obviously the blizzard surroundings, primarily the leg bone in splinters, and lastly from the tremendous fear that knotted their throat. guest pinched their eyes shut and sat directly in the middle of the bloody snow. Babushka�was calling again. And sleep was so warm and inviting�guest loosened up, leaned back; slept blissfully and undisturbed.

guest never woke up.

---

That was an unfortunate ending, guest.
Take a patch?


<a href="neopets.com/~Taunt_"> <img src="http://i143.photobucket.com/albums/r127/athenadoom/tauntbutton.png" border=0 alt="Wrath."></a>


<a href="neopets.com/~Taunt_"> <img src="http://blackfirehoundoom.zoomshare.com/files/taunt_50.PNG" border=0 alt="Wrath."></a>


<a href="neopets.com/~Taunt_"> <img src="http://i143.photobucket.com/albums/r127/athenadoom/taunt_8133.png" border=0 alt="Wrath."></a>















































































































































































































































































































































































































































Please wait," guest hoarsely called after the flickering image of the wolf. Was their mind behaving in a way much the same as a person's does in the desert? Maybe the wolf was a mirage. Or some sort of angel. Or a demon. guest whined as they crawled still, shoulders feeling like they were on fire as they were thrust forward then back in an effort to keep some semblance of a pace. The tears weren't caused by the pain as much now as they were by fear. Being alone and stranded at some god-forsaken mountain face was an idea that sent a hot, sharp wave of sensation from guest's skull to the toes on their non-lame leg. Their voice was choked with sobs as they stumbled and just couldn't move any more.
Come back," they cried weakly, throwing their arms toward the wolf. "It hurts; I can't move any more�my leg�
Then the final speck of the canine vanished, and guest felt the terror of isolation sweep through their system faster than anything they'd ever felt. Their mental capacity felt like that of a child separated from its mother: incapable of making rational decisions and weeping instead. guest buried their face in their hands as their shoulders shook with the force of the sobs.
Stop crying, the wolf harshly commanded. She was directly in front of guest and looking none too happy. Her eyes met with guest's and narrowed. Do you think anyone waited for me in situations like this? Did someone come back to make sure I was alright? In fact, did I even snivel and beg like a coward when I was abandoned?
Taken aback by her ferocity, guest shook their head. "N-no�
That's right. This time, her tone was gravelly but not morbid. Instead, her eyes relayed her anger. Are you quite through with your groveling?
A weak nod. "I-I suppose�
Her inky lips, shinier than her fur, pulled into a taut frown. You don't trust me.
I do�
The wolf leaned until her face was pressed against guest's. LIAR! You cannot tell me false information; I see right through it. You lie and I will realize it. For one, you're terrible at it. Your face gives it all away. You, she paused, tongue between her teeth, are despicable. If you're going to bother lying to me, then by all means continue your wailing and I'll be on my way. But if you're going to be honest with me�
Her eyes landed on the messenger bag slung across guest's shoulders.
Tell me what you carry in that bag.
guest froze up. The cold, dead tone of voice implied she was already suspicious of what they were carrying. But the thing was�

I can't remember.

guest chewed their lip and avoided the gaze of the wolf.

Tell the truth or hobble away.















































































































































































































































































































































































































































I don't know," guest admitted sullenly. When the wolf whirled and lunged toward them, guest threw up their arms to shield their face. "Honest, I don't know! I don't even know why I'm here!
What do you mean, 'here'? the wolf asked peevishly.
guest waved. "The mountains, or wherever we are! I-I woke up and all I remembered was Babushka�er, my grandmother. And this bag�I have no clue what's in it." At that, their hand traveled to the latch, where their fingers toyed with the straps that bound it shut. The wolf growled.
You lie.
No, I swear!" guest pled loudly. "Can't we talk this over somewhere�I don't know, where it's not blizzard conditions?
You wish to be invited to my home, she said bluntly, almost smirking.
Hesitation played guest's heart like a harp.

Her home or your home?















































































































































































































































































































































































































































guest gulped. "Not particularly.
Suits me just fine, she said in a low growl, ears pressed against her skull. When their eyes met again, guest thought that they picked up a hint of�remorse, maybe; possibly mingled with some gratitude that the lame-legged mountain-trekker was out of their hair? Either way, as the wolf did a roundabout and walked slowly out of view in much the same way as she'd done in the beginning, guest couldn't help but feel relieved to be away from the lean canine and her gossamer eyes.
With a heavy heart they begin retracing their steps, which turned out to be surprisingly easy because they simply followed the faint pink trail until it exploded to bright red where the trap's jaws hung open on its hinges. guest winced as their limp leg bumped against a rock beneath the surface of the snow, further irritating the shattered bone. Sharp, huffy breaths and trembling hands made for less than ideal conditions to trek with.
guest had never felt such pain, nor in such a way as this. It came in waves, undulating through their body and swelling like a moonhigh tide. It � the pain � came from many sources: obviously the blizzard surroundings, primarily the leg bone in splinters, and lastly from the tremendous fear that knotted their throat. guest pinched their eyes shut and sat directly in the middle of the bloody snow.
Babushka�was calling again. And sleep was so warm and inviting�guest loosened up, leaned back; slept blissfully and undisturbed.

guest never woke up.

---

<a href="neopets.com/~Taunt_"> <img src="http://i143.photobucket.com/albums/r127/athenadoom/tauntbutton.png" border=0 alt="Wrath."></a>


<a href="neopets.com/~Taunt_"> <img src="http://blackfirehoundoom.zoomshare.com/files/taunt_50.PNG" border=0 alt="Wrath."></a>


<a href="neopets.com/~Taunt_"> <img src="http://i143.photobucket.com/albums/r127/athenadoom/taunt_8133.png" border=0 alt="Wrath."></a>















































































































































































































































































































































































































































guest blinked. "I-If it's an invitation you're giving, I guess it wouldn't be that bad. And do you possibly have � ".
I have medical supplies for your leg where I am taking you, the wolf grunted, eyes fixed on the space beyond her mountain companion. Follow me if you seek shelter from the storm and a wind-free place for your interrogation. If not�like I've said before, I could care less if you stay out here and freeze. Her cold eyes glimmered. One less stupid mountaineer for me to deal with.
The wolf�it was like she'd read their mind. Then again, a wolf that could talk could probably do more things, too, more spectacular than the gift of speech. And though her words bit with the ferocity of the steel trap, guest got the gut feeling that going to the cave was better than freezing to death out here. But an interrogation? Like the ones in the movies, with blinders and torture and rabid dogs? guest nodded slowly. The feeling in their extremities was slipping away. "Please�get me out of the cold. Please.
She crept to guest's side and clamped her jaws around their jacket. Wordlessly, and with the same brute strength as she'd shown with the trap, the canine dragged the human through the snow with great ease. The speed and power she showed were by far abnormal for any human, let alone canine, though guest wasn't worried much about that at the moment. As they hit a slope and the wolf hauled them up diligently, guest let out a squeak of anxiety. Far, far below was a shade of evergreen through the driving snow, which guest recognized as the forest that lay a mile above the village. As the duo ascended ever upward, the shadow of the thick wood faded into oblivion, and only then did guest realize how truly high they were.
Suddenly the view changed from down to up as the wolf pulled him down, out of the blinding white and into such total blackness that the transition made guest's head weak. The tunnel that she pulled them down was coarse with gravel and sloped downward. When the howling of the wind died down to a dull roar, then to a fetid whisper, only then did guest grasp how deep underground they really were.
At long last, when the wolf had dragged them to a flat spot still totally encompassed in darkness, her jaws left guest's jacket. After the arduous task of dragging the lame human up a steep mountain side, not even a wheeze was heard. In fact, it was guest's breath that came sharply as they laid in the surprisingly warm, secret place.
A whine sounded from somewhere in the cave as ten dull lights around the perimeter of the stone room lit up, casting an eerie teal light about the place. The room itself was large enough, maybe ten by ten feet and equally as high. A single, dark and unsurprisingly foreboding tunnel lay on the right side of the room. The wolf's nails, though exposed, made no noise on the stone as she walked deliberately toward guest.
You are out of the cold. But now�she eyed the bag slung across guest's shoulder. �I want to know what is in that bag. You can tell me or I can find out myself. One way is much easier.
guest struck their hands together to test for feeling, then rubbed their upper arms rapidly. They couldn't remember what they carried, and at the moment didn't care to see what it was. For all they knew, it could be a bomb. They could show this wolf, who'd saved their life�

�but a nagging voice held them back.

---

If you ask me, I have no parents.
Of course I was born from a womb. Contrary to popular belief, I am not a robot. I was not created by a human hand. Instead, my twin sister and I were the result of a pair of young lupes in love. My father, Ronaeo, had an bloody childhood. His parents and pack were slaughtered, and after wandering in human territory he was taken up as a canine to experiment chemicals on. Not your common cosmetics, either. Real chemicals, that burn your flesh and fur right off. When the scientists decided he was doomed to die because of his popularity as a lab rat, they dumped my father and an attractive, silvery female from the lab in some field far away from the facility. I have yet to this day to find out where this field is, but believe me that someday I will find the place where my parents not only conceived me, but also committed unruly and unjust acts against each other.
Ronaeo apparently never knew that my mother, Shekari, was with pups. She left with impure intentions and her unborn children. I don't remember her at all when I was young, probably because I spent the first two months of my life curled up against my much prettier twin sister and my mother's stomach. As soon as I could open my eyes, Shekari deemed me too similar to my father. I was dropped in the crevice of some rocks and left to die. At that time, I didn't know what she had in mind for me. I figured she was just going to get something to eat for herself.
She never came back for me. Instead, Shekari took my sister, Pawnee, and sold � sold � her to a performing company.
It's unfortunate that I never got to really get to know my father. He was smarter than Shekari, that was for certain. I met him much later on, when I was maybe eighteen, under a gray sky on some rocky coast. My old man was most definitely being kept alive by the metal limbs of his � paws, legs, and other random scraps. The years definitely showed on him. Though I will always distinctly remember that I was always more cunning than he was. Wily though Ronaeo was � yes, he is dead now � I was always a step ahead.
I watched Ronaeo fall victim to my jealous mother on that very same seashore that I'd spent the past three months of my life on. Not before I learned of my numerous half-siblings. It seemed that my father had a few mates after my mother, and had more than one pup with each one. Wretched soul. Save for Pawnee, I have never met any blood relatives of mine.
I don't care to.
He haunts me in his death, a ghost doomed to live between heaven and hell for eternity. Never to feel the warmth, never the happiness. I have loved few. My father and my sister are the only ones I've felt love for. Now, Ronaeo is a different spirit entirely toward me: bitter, virulent, lascivious. He cares for no beast.
I apparently have an extended network of relatives. Ronaeo's siblings; my auntsand uncles. I suppose even after their pack's massacre they escaped. I have several cousins. I don't care about them. In my mind, the only family of mine is Pawnee and Roe. One's dead, the other wants nothing to do with me.
Such is my life.

---

Although I live in no home, it could be said that I have a 'foster family' of sorts. Heed my words, guest � I am NOT a house pet under any circumstances. It just so happened that I came across these lupes in some of my weakest moments and they took me up in arms. Or at least Athenadoom did. I could give a care what Shaemanaro thinks of me. He used to be so pathetic and sniveling, always curling off after some female because he let his bleeding heart get in the way of everything. Relationships trampled over him with great ease and left him in some splintered pile. Shae never had approved of me, though, even before I quit living with those dysfunctional canines for good. He couldn't bring himself to accept my lifestyle. A part of me doesn't blame him. I can understand not wanting to talk to someone who does what I do for a living. But even when we were younger, Shae and I just never clicked.
Athena, on the other hand, was more like a mother to me than anyone. She is the epitome of what every mother should be: benevolent, graceful, and such a great, throbbing bass of a heart that anyone within a mile could hear it. That miniscule mutant was the only reason I stayed with them as long as I did. Athena reunited me with my sister since they were best friends, and for that I am forever grateful.
From what I've heard, there's a new lupe living with them. Some gray and pink faerie.
Eqoh, I think. She's supposed to be a real prig; some big city big rig with an inflated head. Glad I don't have to deal with her.

---

robottttttt
worth 95k!!111omg

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Sin Five of the Seven Deadly Sins
Ira; more commonly known as Wrath

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Collected Trophies

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Tori: Dawww, lookit ickle widdle Taunt! owo
She's so cuuuuuuuuute!

Taunt: -sharpens claws-


















































































































































































































































































































































































































































Credits

Let me start this by saying that the character and all concepts associated with Taunt were produced from the unfathomable depths of my own mind. That is a summary in itself. Why must I go and ramble on about what is mine when you know as well as I that everything on this page belongs to me? I know you're a smart person, after all, right, guest? And I wouldn't dare insult your intelligence. :)

All art seen (with exception of adoptables, who belong to their respectful creators) on this page was done by the lovelylovely Tawreh as a halfway-gift of sorts. But I don't care what the reason was, really. She did a spectacular, stupendous job on this page and there is no way that I can ever repay her. Thank you so much, Taw, for doing this for me. I love you!

(Oh, and P.S. - if anyone goes and pesters Taw about art requests because she did one for me, the hounds of High Holy Hell will be on your heels faster than you can say toadstool. Just a fair warning.)

Thanks also to SamK for the layout/format coding and Nikki for the assistance with further coding. It was Nikki who made it so all you using FireFox can use this page like everyone else. :)

♥♥♥♥ x 100 to everyone and anyone who made this page what it is. I can't thank you enough.

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Link Out


<a href="neopets.com/~Taunt_"> <img src="http://i143.photobucket.com/albums/r127/athenadoom/tauntbutton.png" border=0 alt="Wrath."></a>


<a href="neopets.com/~Taunt_"> <img src="http://blackfirehoundoom.zoomshare.com/files/taunt_50.PNG" border=0 alt="Wrath."></a>


<a href="neopets.com/~Taunt_"> <img src="http://i143.photobucket.com/albums/r127/athenadoom/taunt_8133.png" border=0 alt="Wrath."></a>

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