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Description
Boomshakalaka. Updates for her because my art ability improved since I last drew her whole body in plain view. c:

The two burning, miss-matched, glowing eyes glared heatedly out of the Autumn-turned brush. The orbs fixed on something in the dirt road that lay on the other side of the bush, cutting a line straight through the magnificent trees. The center, or rather, centers of his attention, were three little bundles of fur, blindly rolling over themselves and each other, whining, hiccuping and yipping. All had luxurious red fur with dark markings and grey underbellies. The runt was squished beneath the other, significantly larger two, but her tiny puppy maw blindly nipped about, clamping fervently onto the hides of its siblings, instigating whines from them.

    A loud rumbling filler the air, and the puppy watcher turned its head sharply to spot a large, old, green truck making its slow and dusty way down the road. The eyes snapped back to the puppies, who had rolled out to the middle of the road.

   The large creature prepared  to spring, until the sound of squealing brakes rang sharply in its ears. The shadowed being watched intently the pups, and the old woman who slid from the truck. The short, bustling woman gasped and scurried to the pups, giving the area a once over before she scooped them up, all three at once, carrying their growly, shrieking bodies to her truck, muttering herself profanely of people dumping puppies and poachers leaving orphans.

    The truck once again rambled on, leaving behind it a dust cloud. In that veiling cloud, sat a large wolf, scarred, with long, pointed ears and a jingling metal collar decorated with skulls of others, dwarfed by its immense size. The thing sat and watched with its miss-matched eyes as the puppies, its own blood, were carried off.

    Once the truck was out of the Candide's sight, the beast heaved s forlorn sigh and stood, its half tail standing at full attention as it padded back into the woods, The wolf-creature's over-sized paws carried it deep into the woods before they stopped at the base of a tree, The large skull was tilted up slowly, remorsefully and the red & blue optics fixed on something hanging from the base of a tree branch.

    The eyes turned cold and steely upon seeing the carcass of a female hanging there, suspended by her delicate back legs, mouth hung open, tongue hanging out, and amber eyes staring blindly at nothing. Her teats hung heavily against her slim frame, and her blood dripped slowly from the two gunshot wounds used to kill her. Her fur was a gorgeous, honey sable, almost white, and would fetch a a pretty penny for the poachers who took the mother's life.

     The female's counterpart stood for only a moment more before he turned, disappearing in a puff of black clouds arising from the earth.

---

    The small wolf cubs were rushed from the truck to the comfy warmth of the house, quickly placed in a towel and blanket cushioned laundry basked.

    Cries and growls arose from the basket, the pups not used to these smells, desperately wanting their mother. The old woman quietly warmed up some milk in her wood burning stove, listening quietly to their pleas. With an improvised baby bottle in hand, she began to hand feed each one, although at first the poor darlings knew not what was happening, and so kept up with their cries. Once the milk touched their tongues, they latched onto the bottle one by one, and began suckling, making cute little noises of content as they did.

   During their feeding, each one was named. Duchess, for the largest and bravest, biting the woman's finger blindly when she was petted, and nearly pulling off the rubber glove tip in an attempt for more milk. Missy, for the shyest, who wailed when she was removed from her sisters, and nearly refused to take the bottle as she cried. And finally, Lady, for the smallest, and the  one who merely silenced the moment she was picked up, and stared, without seeing, at the old woman.  She took the milk without much protest, but once she was back in the basket, began howling, throwing her little head back and singing, calming the other two.

---

    A year passed, and the pups, minus Lady, grew to be rather large, especially for their supposed species. While wolves are big, Duchess and Missy grew to be the size of yearling mastiff pups. In contrast, Lady was smaller than normal, although that didn't effect her one bit.

   The old woman had two sons, who loathed wolves, and most creatures for that matter. They would often try to convince their sickly mother, who was getting on in age, to give them the three sisters, but sensing her sons would do more harm than good, the woman always refused.

    Lady, Missy, and Duchess were allowed free roam in their surrogate mother's woods, and would return to her dwelling every day to spend time with her, and for their meals.

     One day though, their meal was not their in the morning.

     So the three waited...

     And waited...

     All day they would wait, and still no sign of their beloved caregiver.

     That evening, loud sirens chased off the three females, causing  them to watch from a distance the scene of the stranger humans rolling out their dear elder caregiver and driving her away.

     They waited for a day for her return, loyalty causing them to sit at her favorite chair on the porch, staring at the road. Hunger, however, is a powerful adversary, and the pack of three returned to the woods for food. There, the three resided for months, forming their own pack, and learning on their own how to be wolves.

     They adjusted well to this new  life, hunting small game like rabbits, fawns, and voles to keep them fed. But often their curiosity would get the better of them, and they would return to the house, sitting and waiting for anyone to greet them, or their surrogate mother to come out with affections just for them. Disappointment rode deep when no one came, and each time their home was covered in more vines, leaves and dust.

---

    Lady quickly cornered her kill, a portly groundhog who had made the mistake of coming out of its hole whilst Lady was in search nearby for dinner. The small velvety red fae pushed, yet again the nausea from her stomach. She was not sick from food, no, she was ridden with a wretched feeling in her belly, as if something utterly and completely terrible was to happen.

    The wolf crouched, snarling as the creature who had fallen prey to her feebly attempted to fight back, her bright neon eyes narrowing. Lady's muscles tensed and she began to push on her hinds, preparing to propel herself forth from the ground and onto her meal.

   A sudden howl from Duchess tore through the air, and turned to a scream of pure agony after a loud bang tormented Lady's ears. Her head immediately shot up. The cry was chorused by another, frantic, wailing howl from Missy. Lady's muscles released, but now she was making a mad dash for their den site. The whimpering was cut off, and then soon after, the howl of Missy, both ending after another loud boom.

    The powerful little beast's paws barely touched the ground as she fled home, her little heart beating like a frantic, caged bird held against its will, the nausea again raising bile into her throat.

   The all familiar scent of blood filled the air the closer she got, and the scene Lady came to a halt in front of shocked her into silence. There stood the two sons, laughing to one another, each crouched over one of her beloved sisters, their knives separating skin from muscle at a shoddy attempt at skinning.

    Lady began to quake, but not in fear. Tears did not pour from her eyes, but instead her eyes began to glow more so than normal. A boiling, violent, heated rage filled her tiny body as it shook in pure anger. Her lips twitched, peeling back over her teeth and gums as her jaws opened, a loud, ear shattering screech, not native to any earthbound species, emitted from her tiny throat.

   The men wailed and fell, clutching their now-bleeding ears. The forest was now deathly silent, save for the breathing of the three beings. The two humans looked to the source of the noise, and began prodding fun at her size, turning to grab their guns.  It wasn't a moment later, Lady was on one's back, her teeth buried in his neck as he screamed and flailed.  She snarled and thrashed her head side to side, eventually the larger creature crumpling in death beneath her as a satisfying crack emitted from the male's neck. Yet, she still pulled, eyes wide as her sanity was lost, until, ripping flesh and cloth, the spinal column of the human was held in her jaws; or...part of it was, anyway.

    The emissive eyes looked up at the remaining male, who held a dog whistle in his hand, his body shaking in fear. The shrill noise made Lady flinch, but nothing more, as her wide, crazy eyes fixated on the man, whose gun was shakily pointed at her. She staggered forth, drunk with blood lust, blood from her last victim dripping from her parted jaws.

    A shot is fired into her shoulder, and yet, she keeps moving. Heavy breathing draws nearer, coming from her right, and the fae ducks just as the massive body of a hound of some sort hurdles through the air. Using the intensely quick speed she and her sisters thought normal, Lady snatched her head up, her jaws clamping around the foreleg of the dog. She rared onto her hinds and swung, using the momentum to throw the canine into a nearby tree, winding it. Momentarily distracted from her original target, Lady pounces, and after a few moments of the dog screeching in pain and Lady snarling like a hell sent beast, it is over, the spine half torn from the carcass.

    A sick grin twisted itself across her maw, and she refocused on the remaining man, stalking towards him with a small snarl.

Lady Mac, art, her design, Damnatus Messoribus ©

Description
Boomshakalaka. Updates for her because my art ability improved since I last drew her whole body in plain view. c:

The two burning, miss-matched, glowing eyes glared heatedly out of the Autumn-turned brush. The orbs fixed on something in the dirt road that lay on the other side of the bush, cutting a line straight through the magnificent trees. The center, or rather, centers of his attention, were three little bundles of fur, blindly rolling over themselves and each other, whining, hiccuping and yipping. All had luxurious red fur with dark markings and grey underbellies. The runt was squished beneath the other, significantly larger two, but her tiny puppy maw blindly nipped about, clamping fervently onto the hides of its siblings, instigating whines from them.

    A loud rumbling filler the air, and the puppy watcher turned its head sharply to spot a large, old, green truck making its slow and dusty way down the road. The eyes snapped back to the puppies, who had rolled out to the middle of the road.

   The large creature prepared  to spring, until the sound of squealing brakes rang sharply in its ears. The shadowed being watched intently the pups, and the old woman who slid from the truck. The short, bustling woman gasped and scurried to the pups, giving the area a once over before she scooped them up, all three at once, carrying their growly, shrieking bodies to her truck, muttering herself profanely of people dumping puppies and poachers leaving orphans.

    The truck once again rambled on, leaving behind it a dust cloud. In that veiling cloud, sat a large wolf, scarred, with long, pointed ears and a jingling metal collar decorated with skulls of others, dwarfed by its immense size. The thing sat and watched with its miss-matched eyes as the puppies, its own blood, were carried off.

    Once the truck was out of the Candide's sight, the beast heaved s forlorn sigh and stood, its half tail standing at full attention as it padded back into the woods, The wolf-creature's over-sized paws carried it deep into the woods before they stopped at the base of a tree, The large skull was tilted up slowly, remorsefully and the red & blue optics fixed on something hanging from the base of a tree branch.

    The eyes turned cold and steely upon seeing the carcass of a female hanging there, suspended by her delicate back legs, mouth hung open, tongue hanging out, and amber eyes staring blindly at nothing. Her teats hung heavily against her slim frame, and her blood dripped slowly from the two gunshot wounds used to kill her. Her fur was a gorgeous, honey sable, almost white, and would fetch a a pretty penny for the poachers who took the mother's life.

     The female's counterpart stood for only a moment more before he turned, disappearing in a puff of black clouds arising from the earth.

---

    The small wolf cubs were rushed from the truck to the comfy warmth of the house, quickly placed in a towel and blanket cushioned laundry basked.

    Cries and growls arose from the basket, the pups not used to these smells, desperately wanting their mother. The old woman quietly warmed up some milk in her wood burning stove, listening quietly to their pleas. With an improvised baby bottle in hand, she began to hand feed each one, although at first the poor darlings knew not what was happening, and so kept up with their cries. Once the milk touched their tongues, they latched onto the bottle one by one, and began suckling, making cute little noises of content as they did.

   During their feeding, each one was named. Duchess, for the largest and bravest, biting the woman's finger blindly when she was petted, and nearly pulling off the rubber glove tip in an attempt for more milk. Missy, for the shyest, who wailed when she was removed from her sisters, and nearly refused to take the bottle as she cried. And finally, Lady, for the smallest, and the  one who merely silenced the moment she was picked up, and stared, without seeing, at the old woman.  She took the milk without much protest, but once she was back in the basket, began howling, throwing her little head back and singing, calming the other two.

---

    A year passed, and the pups, minus Lady, grew to be rather large, especially for their supposed species. While wolves are big, Duchess and Missy grew to be the size of yearling mastiff pups. In contrast, Lady was smaller than normal, although that didn't effect her one bit.

   The old woman had two sons, who loathed wolves, and most creatures for that matter. They would often try to convince their sickly mother, who was getting on in age, to give them the three sisters, but sensing her sons would do more harm than good, the woman always refused.

    Lady, Missy, and Duchess were allowed free roam in their surrogate mother's woods, and would return to her dwelling every day to spend time with her, and for their meals.

     One day though, their meal was not their in the morning.

     So the three waited...

     And waited...

     All day they would wait, and still no sign of their beloved caregiver.

     That evening, loud sirens chased off the three females, causing  them to watch from a distance the scene of the stranger humans rolling out their dear elder caregiver and driving her away.

     They waited for a day for her return, loyalty causing them to sit at her favorite chair on the porch, staring at the road. Hunger, however, is a powerful adversary, and the pack of three returned to the woods for food. There, the three resided for months, forming their own pack, and learning on their own how to be wolves.

     They adjusted well to this new  life, hunting small game like rabbits, fawns, and voles to keep them fed. But often their curiosity would get the better of them, and they would return to the house, sitting and waiting for anyone to greet them, or their surrogate mother to come out with affections just for them. Disappointment rode deep when no one came, and each time their home was covered in more vines, leaves and dust.

---

    Lady quickly cornered her kill, a portly groundhog who had made the mistake of coming out of its hole whilst Lady was in search nearby for dinner. The small velvety red fae pushed, yet again the nausea from her stomach. She was not sick from food, no, she was ridden with a wretched feeling in her belly, as if something utterly and completely terrible was to happen.

    The wolf crouched, snarling as the creature who had fallen prey to her feebly attempted to fight back, her bright neon eyes narrowing. Lady's muscles tensed and she began to push on her hinds, preparing to propel herself forth from the ground and onto her meal.

   A sudden howl from Duchess tore through the air, and turned to a scream of pure agony after a loud bang tormented Lady's ears. Her head immediately shot up. The cry was chorused by another, frantic, wailing howl from Missy. Lady's muscles released, but now she was making a mad dash for their den site. The whimpering was cut off, and then soon after, the howl of Missy, both ending after another loud boom.

    The powerful little beast's paws barely touched the ground as she fled home, her little heart beating like a frantic, caged bird held against its will, the nausea again raising bile into her throat.

   The all familiar scent of blood filled the air the closer she got, and the scene Lady came to a halt in front of shocked her into silence. There stood the two sons, laughing to one another, each crouched over one of her beloved sisters, their knives separating skin from muscle at a shoddy attempt at skinning.

    Lady began to quake, but not in fear. Tears did not pour from her eyes, but instead her eyes began to glow more so than normal. A boiling, violent, heated rage filled her tiny body as it shook in pure anger. Her lips twitched, peeling back over her teeth and gums as her jaws opened, a loud, ear shattering screech, not native to any earthbound species, emitted from her tiny throat.

   The men wailed and fell, clutching their now-bleeding ears. The forest was now deathly silent, save for the breathing of the three beings. The two humans looked to the source of the noise, and began prodding fun at her size, turning to grab their guns.  It wasn't a moment later, Lady was on one's back, her teeth buried in his neck as he screamed and flailed.  She snarled and thrashed her head side to side, eventually the larger creature crumpling in death beneath her as a satisfying crack emitted from the male's neck. Yet, she still pulled, eyes wide as her sanity was lost, until, ripping flesh and cloth, the spinal column of the human was held in her jaws; or...part of it was, anyway.

    The emissive eyes looked up at the remaining male, who held a dog whistle in his hand, his body shaking in fear. The shrill noise made Lady flinch, but nothing more, as her wide, crazy eyes fixated on the man, whose gun was shakily pointed at her. She staggered forth, drunk with blood lust, blood from her last victim dripping from her parted jaws.

    A shot is fired into her shoulder, and yet, she keeps moving. Heavy breathing draws nearer, coming from her right, and the fae ducks just as the massive body of a hound of some sort hurdles through the air. Using the intensely quick speed she and her sisters thought normal, Lady snatched her head up, her jaws clamping around the foreleg of the dog. She rared onto her hinds and swung, using the momentum to throw the canine into a nearby tree, winding it. Momentarily distracted from her original target, Lady pounces, and after a few moments of the dog screeching in pain and Lady snarling like a hell sent beast, it is over, the spine half torn from the carcass.

    A sick grin twisted itself across her maw, and she refocused on the remaining man, stalking towards him with a small snarl.

Lady Mac, art, her design, Damnatus Messoribus ©