Darkwater Rapids Pack Thread

Darkwater Rapids Pack Thread

This is the Pack Interaction Thread for the Darkwater Rapids pack. This thread is open to all Darkwater Rapid wolves. The location of this thread is outside the pack den. Because this is a Pack thread, it cannot be archived or removed for inactivity. This serves as a place for basic and general social gathering. However, it will not serve as a place for pack meetings or threads with a specific purpose. For more information, please see THIS informational thread.

(This post was last modified: Oct 01, 2022, 07:17 AM by Chan.)

we're starting over, we'll head back in

there's a time and place to die but this aint it

Nighttime had always had a certain hold on him. When he was younger, he felt as if he could slip away into the shadows and disappear from a world he thought he'd never understand. Only seasons ago, darkness was the instrument that was his means to slip away to Lost Lake to see Ava. In Grizzly Hollow, darkness meant staying up to keep an eye out for those who liked to explore when no one was awake to interject. The realm of Darkwater Rapids was different from all of those places, however, and the wolf who he was now was only better than his past selves. He didn't need to disappear anymore; he didn't want to. In fact, the only place he longed to be or go was right here, where the rumbling of the river echoed against the stony ravine walls and the moonlight shone down from an inky blue-black sky to caper elegantly along the forest floor where it could slip through the canopy. From his vantage point just outside the outcropping that was he and Ava's secluded den, at the peak of a cliff that hung over the ravine itself, his silver eyes could see all that was his, his ears could hear the muffled snores and sighs that leaked out from the confines of the den where his mate and heirs slumbered, and his mind was at peace with all that had come to pass. Never had he though that his life could be so close to perfection. Never had he imagined that a happiness like the one he'd come to know truly existed, but...always would he remember his reverence for this place and the dreams it would keep safe.

Come one, come all. A fantastic showdown was about to begin just outside the mouth of the den.

In one corner stood Rowan, his short limbs straight, stance solid and fur puffed out as far as it could go. There was a sparkle in his pale blue eyes much like the gleam of his teeth as he bared them against his opponent. In the other corner, a spider faced the brave warrior, who was a particularly large but fortunately non-venomous type, - and also completely unafraid of the dust-colored furball that yipped at him.

Meek growls rumbled from Rowan's throat as he tried to put on an impressive act, imagining that the roars would rip from his throat and he'd snarl so loud that the whole forest would shake. "Gerrar," he threatened the arachnid, lifting his head as high as it could go. "Mine." This was a territory battle, of course, for the spider had decided to hang out on a little rock embedded into the side of the den, which Rowan had decided was not the spider's at all. That rock was his rock, and only he and momma and dada and Cindy and Quil and sometimes Mace could have it.

Despite his warnings, the spider didn't go any where. He seemed to be disregarding Ro's obvious authority, which didn't sit well with the dark-legged boy. Slowly he geared up for attack, working up the courage to strike his foe down, wavering in place as he formulated a plan of proper attack.

(This post was last modified: Jun 28, 2013, 11:30 PM by Rowan.)

adopt thea?

Ver, I think you may have an open tag up there^ somewhere :)

Truth be told, he wasn't so amazed that time was slipping by faster and faster every day. Last winter he was the lonely, dark guardian, prowling the denuded cedar forest's weathered paths with a weary mind and a steady heart. He'd wondered what had happened to the amber eyed diver he'd so utterly fallen in love with, who he knew loved him, too. It was through the lonely cold that he'd recounted the days since he'd first unveiled Relic Lore with his own eyes, the changes in the winds he'd witnessed over the seasons and the places he'd become fond of─and those he wasn't fond of at all. The hole in the hill; the blackberry field where he'd met a certain woman with mismatched eyes; the ghastly woodland and its neighboring thicket; the cedar forest. Grizzly Hollow. Funny─he didn't define his life according to where his was born and who raised him and how. Most days he knowingly suppressed memories he knew wouldn't help him become a better man. No, it wasn't his past that made him who he was, it wasn't the places he'd been or the memories he'd made. It wasn't even Ava, so much. His life as it had come to be known was defined by fatherhood. Those four furry black terrors were reasons one through four he had for waking up early, patrolling, hunting, eating, hell─even sleeping. He had to stay strong for them, he had to maintain his health and clarity of mind. Life was no longer about worrying about much of anything other than staying alive to provide for his kids and wife, and pack, and enjoying it, and he did. Watching his son from the den mouth as he prowled about, the expert hunter-in-training, he truly appreciated the bad times as well as the good─the ugly places and those few beautiful ones─and the wandering souls in-between that had all along been the path to this: the creation of life from his life, the blood of his blood. Breathing deep a quiet sigh, the man laid to rest his graying chin upon his wrists as the evening sun fell warmly between his shoulders.

(This post was last modified: Jun 28, 2013, 03:03 AM by Kade.)

Words: 487

She had just finished putting the prey she had caught on the cache and returning to the pack den just before her evening meal, a rabbit by her choice. The area was one that they called peaceful, and Isa took it all in as she was gnawing on a hare, part of the things that she had caught for the day, she had scored a decent amount, a woodchuck, a few hares. Her tail curled around part of her body so it was out of the way, her light brown eyes concentrated on eating her food. Her ears perked, listening for those who might enter the den. The little girl was little more than a pup, but she refused to be snuck up on. Tomorrow was a big day, she was going to take a crack at fishing and hope that her fur didn’t get too wet in the process.

She knew that it probably would, and so she decided that she would go out early to do it, since if she had her fur wet, she could spend the day running the borders and drying off. She had a bit of a tone to her as she began to SPRECHGESANG. A singing voice, though no bother to match the pitches since she was alone, it was one of her favorite things that her parents had sung to her. "Look to the stars my dear, see the open sky, and never forget who you are, see the moon, it is who you are. Gentle, sweet, caring kind, never forget who you are." She had called it the night song, and her parents had sung it to her every single night until she fell asleep, and she sung it to herself every night before she drifted off to sleep. She wasn’t trying to sleep, only to forget the past.

She knew inside that she was just having a recollection of the past every time those words raced through her head, but they gave her a sense of peace, and wellbeing as she would drift to sleep. Her eyes sparkled like diamonds as she looked up to the sky, trying to remember why she was hated by her parents, if they were even still alive, in the first place. It was a ponderous thought, if she had stayed, would she still be alive. She probably wouldn’t have been. The girl who had just turned one year old, and just become a yearling, she had a troubled spirit that night, one to match her troubled past, and the one that she was forgetting but using like armor all the same. It was like many other things that she remembered hearing to stay away from. The cripple in the pack, a broken leg stopped her from doing anything, Isabel always seemed to visit her and get in trouble. Bastards, Cripples and Broken Things would always have a place in her heart.

_{Plots <3}

With an undeniable exuberance the soot-socked boy pranced through his parents' territory, taking immense pride with each oversized paw's step as he traipsed his way from the treeline that marked their border and climbed the rise toward the den. His blood-spattered jaws reached for the sky, skinny grey legs hanging limp between his teeth. This was his finest moment in all of his four months alive, he was certain. Rowan Attaya had made his first ever real kill, completely with the intention of bringing home the bacon for his family, and he simply had to flaunt such a tremendous accomplishment.

Some part of him had been disheartened that there hadn't been any witnesses when he sank his very recently replaced adult teeth into the tufty-furred hare's hide. No one had heard the violent snarl that plunged from the very depths of his manliness as the blood tickled down his chin, or seen the victorious fire burning in his yellow-gold eyes as he smelled the very life draining from the creature within his jaws. But that was no matter, he decided, as he need be the only witness to declare himself a champion and that he did. Soaked in pride he swaggered on, imagining someone might catch a glimpse of him from the shadows and that they'd be in awe of the dust-colored boy for the rest of the day.

Reaching the cache as was his intention, Rowan slowly lowered his head and allowed the rabbit's corpse to roll from his jaws. Though it slumped forward rather unceremoniously, the dull thud of its body against the ground sounded like victory bells to his over-sized ears. Casually he leaned away and tilted his head off to one side, listening in case someone had come to flatter his accomplishment.

adopt thea?

The growing boy's nose was plastered firmly against the earth as he jogged through the ring of forest along their northern edge. The scent of the myriad wolves of the pack flowed into his nares and were catalogued and identified; it was a practice in recognition for Mace, or at least, he was telling himself that. In reality, he was stretching his legs and slacking off, and had placated his parents by telling them he was going to see how many wolves he could recognise just by picking up their scents as he walked. Each trail he crossed brought the slightest hesitation to his step before the appropriate name clicked into his mind: Maksim. Destin. Isadora. Mum. Cinder.

His rounds — or rather, his self-awarded free time — were completed in short order, and soon he was rounding back to follow a well-worn footpath that would bring him through the dense trees to the rise that the Darkwater wolves most often frequented. He was swift in climbing it, with such an abundance of energy as to seem infinite, but at the top he did pause for a second and let his tongue loll. It was long enough for him to spot Rowan and, accompanied by a lurch of surprise in his stomach, the creature held triumphantly in his brother's muzzle. Mace froze for a moment to watch quietly; he hadn't caught anything yet! How had Rowan managed it?!

Seeing as his brother was his greatest rival and also (secretly) his most cherished sibling, even though he acted most protective of his baby sisters, Mace was quick to follow. Curiosity over how his brother was going to enjoy his catch drove the boy's feet onward, though pride flared in his chest alongside jealousy when his sibling brought the hare not to the den to enjoy alone, but to the cache to share with others. Though he approached good-naturedly, Mace couldn't help taking a jab at his sibling, mostly because he was still shocked Rowan had caught something before he had: Bet that hare begged you to catch it, didn't it? A wry smile tugged at his lips as he seated himself several yards away, as though to assure Rowan that he was mostly joking while simultaneously begging, himself, for some form of explanation.

(This post was last modified: Aug 28, 2013, 01:35 AM by Mace.)

gorgeous set by kydnt

His ears flicked like a switch to the sound of incoming footsteps, turning his eager head to see which of his pack mates had come to worship the very ground he walked on - err, congratulate him on his endeavor. His ego deflated somewhat to see it was his older brother, as his assumption had grown in their near four months of life that the brawnier boy was difficult to impress. Now, Rowan hadn't known Mace had yet to make a kill of his own but he had begun to consistently assume that for anything there was to accomplish, his pitch-black sibling would be there hours before he could catch up. It was something he had come to terms with, truly made peace with being silver to the silver-eyed... and yet who could deny the pride of victory? A cheeky grin lit up his black-masked face, bright eyes trailing meaningfully between his brother and the recent addition to the pack cache.

The hare lay limply against the dirt; not even rigor mortis could make it a beefier prize. The grey of its fur was atypical for the summer season and instead showed of his age. Though his feet were large, as any rabbit's were, its legs were thin and unimpressive. If Rowan had done anything today it'd been to hurry along an already almost-there patron toward death's door - but he was far too inexperienced of a hunter, even of a wolf, to understand that it had been luck and an elder rabbit that created his good fortune. Ignorant of the fact he trained his gaze on Mace, trying hard to bite his undeserving ego while turning a blind eye to the subliminal tightness in his brother's tease. "Oh, you heard him? 'Cause ya heard him wrong," Rowan fired back, a little too quick on the draw to be suave. "This hare was beggin' for his life when I was on his tail!" His own had begun to wave forcefully behind him, shaking the excess excitement from his body bit by bit. Cocking his head to one side the second-born fixed Mace with a sloppy grin, curious to see what the better son thought of this.

adopt thea?

A wild smirk unfurled over the elder boy's face when his brother rapidly retorted. Of course, he had expected Rowan to defend his catch, and the boy certainly hadn't disappointed. There was no denying sibling rivalry would probably always exist between them, but he was proud as well. Better that Rowan catch something before him than never catch anything at all; he would have an easier time accepting that he had come second to his amber-eyed sibling than he would accepting that any sibling of his be unable to hunt properly, even if it was something he would never, ever say.

I heard it a'right, he scoffed, but I heard it right. It was sayin' "please, oh, please, my wife was stolen by a bandicoon, please, I don't wanna live no more!" Of course that wasn't what it had been saying, and Mace knew it probably had been screaming for its life, because to him it looked as spry and young as any other hare, which was to say, every other hare. Age was still a shaky concept to the youth; like Rowan, he could not have told that the hare had been on its last legs anyway.

But seriously, how'dja do it? he wondered aloud, finally allowing all mocking traces to disappear off his face. He may have been disappointed that it wasn't him to proudly present the first kill to their family, but that didn't stop him from wondering what the secret to success was. He could never know that he would never be a wonderful hunter, and that he instead would answer to a different calling; he could never foresee that he would be a guillotine hunter rather than the stalker, the trap at the end of the race; an ambusher, never a chaser. Mace would forever be tethered to pack life, if not because he wanted to be, but because he would rely on wolves like Rowan to assist him in hunting. He could never know this now, so naturally, he thought his brother's success story could help him with his own hunting, and believing this wholly, he eagerly awaited the knowledge that his brother might share.

gorgeous set by kydnt

Through the screen of a patch of tall grass, she took them in with objection. Rowan's grandiose accomplishment hadn't gone unnoticed, though Quil was hardly intent to drool over the limp corpse he'd so casually added to the cache. Truth be told, she didn't like the sight of dead things, not after her experience past the borders and even if it were something she might end up eating. From a distance she watched her brothers, her dark plume of a tail wrapped gingerly around her haunches as she lay nestled beneath the shade of a twisted old tree. Their encounter was humorous (they usually were─a pair of jesters, those two.) but it was only a ghost of a smile that tugged at a single corner of her dark lips, her rounded ears perked in their direction. Despite her distant sense of curiosity and admiration, she was unsure of whether or not her congratulations would be worth the breath to convey, what with the avid faux-testosterone argumentation unfolding like the flames of a wildfire in a field of dead grass...Nevertheless, she was proud of Rowan, and a little sibling rivalry wasn't going to deter her from letting him know. Nonchalantly, the sable furred girl approached her brothers, wild-eyed and as prim as a proper princess should be. "Thanks for lunch, Rowan," she teased lightheartedly, bumping affectionately past Mace. She wanted to go on about it like the boys were, but as soft-spoken as she was, she really wasn't sure how to go about it.