Ruins of Wildwood
Drooping Willows poisen & wine - Printable Version

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poisen & wine - Jaysyek - Dec 15, 2011

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    my weakness is that i care to much.

39° F/ 4° C, Clear| Early Morning

The morning was a cold one, pure frost adorning everything in icey crystals of perfection. She had finished her patrol before dawn, and after checking back upon the den had decided to take a walk to see how the rest of Relic Lore was fairing the winter. She wouldn't have minded company on her walk, but she didn't bother asking anyone to come either. A fast paced walk, she stretched her long limbs along the white coating, almost hating to disturb the cleanliness it brought to the forest. It was a decietful picture to say the least, what reallywithout imperfection in the Hollow? It seemed a trick of sorts to make things appear fine, and dandy. Right, she thought, letting out a somewhat irrated puff of air which curled into steam than disappeared in the freezing air.

Further she meandered knowing where she was going, but taking some time to get there. She had not parted from the forest for some time, and was planning on not going to far. Who knows what fate had in store for her today? Would the Grizzly Bear that had claimed their den come back? Would Vlar return, and stir up more havor? Or would some other maniac draw upon her? Such were her thoughts assuming the worse of what could become while she strolled through the forest, and marsh to the Drooping Willows.

She may have many a thing on her mind she was paying close attention to her surroundings, noting the frost continued wherever she went, an ear tipped for the crunch of poweder. Reaching her destination she would pause admiring how it adorned the lazy branches of the trees, and lighting up what could have been dull landscape. Of coarse it bothered her slightly she could not detect any old scents, but it did let her see there were no fresh trails around either. Flew flecks of the crystal fluttered down, and she took note of the sun rising up even further. She would continue, admiring the winter wonderland, if only to find something of interest.

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poisen & wine - Vaelencian - Dec 16, 2011

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A peaceful mound of black fur, painted silvery by the fine layer of frost embedded in his fur, rose and fell with the steady breathing of a slumbering elder. For once, his mind was as restful as his body, free from dreams of ill-gotten demons and Divine Lords to interrupted his sleep. Only when the sunlight filtered in through the branches above, made brighter by the white sheen of winter, hit his face did he stir. A grunt and sigh preluded a twitch to rid himself of the uncomfortable tickle that the ice brought to his shoulder blades. He buried his face under his left shoulder, trying to block out the annoying light. In an attempt to sleep in, he tried to Will himself back under to no avail. With a throaty growl, he pulled his face from hiding and blinked in the glare.

When his vision adjusted, he slowly rose. Cracking joints and slivers of pain greeted him and he grunted. The old man arched his back and popped his spine. This time only an odd sense of relief in the place of pain comforted him and he continued on until his legs were stretched accordingly. He finished the ordeal with a brisk shake of the head to loosen flakes of frost from his snout and ears. It was time to start his morning. Though new and still pack-less, he counted himself lucky to have found this place. It had so much going for it, in the few areas he'd explored. Rabbits seemed plentiful this season, so his hunger was normally sated, and even with the freeze, he still found it possible to drink from the streams when he didn't feel like eating snow. Heck, the old one had even found a half-frozen fish in the shallows that he'd been able to pull ashore and tear apart, though it hurt his jaws to do so.

Having just awoken, he wasn't particularly hungry. And not feeling up to a hike, he bent his snout and nibbled a few chunks of snow and ice. He licked his chops after to warm them with his tongue. He felt an itch coming on, so he balanced his weight and brought his hind leg up to scratch behind an ear. While busy with that new and exciting task, a scent wafted toward him. The cold air did wonders to sharpen his senses and he picked up what seemed to be a female. At once he wondered if Rebecca had found him here. He couldn't remember what she smelled like, so he wasn't able to tell if this one was her or not. Pulling his leg away and righting himself, the grizzled wanderer paused to listen. He couldn't hear anyone, but that didn't mean much to him. Just 'cause you don't see anyone, smell anyone, or hear anyone doesn't mean you're alone. Just meant that you had to pull the rabbit hair out of your ears and get your feet on the ground. Or at least, that's what his granddad would say. Never really understood the sentiment, himself.

No sense coming off rude if there really was someone lurking about. He barked once in an ambiguous greeting. Seeing nothing else to do, he turned back to his sleeping spot and dug away at the snow until he saw brown, frost-burnt grass. Settling down on that grass, he nudged snow over his limbs and tail, serving to cover himself for warmth. A neat little trick handed down by elders from his home pack when old Vaelencian was only a pup. Hopefully it was a trick he could hand down himself one day. One of many, to be sure.


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poisen & wine - Jaysyek - Dec 17, 2011

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    my weakness is that i care to much.

A muffled sound had an ear drawn in a new direction. She paused in her stride, and craned her neck higher trying to decide what the disturbance was. It was nothing familiar too soft to say. Eyes shift against the smooth crest of the sparkling snow wanting to solve the new mystery quickly. It could be anything, and she continued placing one paw after the other. About then she noticed the scent of a male wolf she had not encountered, and her triangle ears twisted back in a her form of small distaste. She had once was slow to jump to wrong conclusions, but these days she she couldn't be to careful. Edge of her muzzle wrinkled, and she started to follow the wafting musk of the loner. She was more surprised when he sounded his location. Her ears would perk up, and her nose would smooth yet her eyes were lit with a sense of curiousity.
Had she sneaked up on someone else, and they were only surprised, uncertain too?



Cautiously keeping a look about her, she let out a returning woof in greeting even though it was certain to be tainted with her silent questions. Deciding maybe this wasn't anything menacing, she started to look for the speaker without a face, sauntering around the willows. If there was one thing to bother here it was an enigma.



After some minutes she started to question her senses until she saw a peculiar pile of snow. Once she looked closer the snow had eyes, and there was black cloaked male beneath. Pale brow quirked, and her nostrils twitched breathing deep what was his scent. He didn't have any of Swift River upon him, and she assumed he was a wolf without a pack. "Hello," she called, her voice neither warm nor cold merely empty of anyone emotion.



Uncertain if it might bother him she did not walk closer. This could be his home, and he might not like the intrustion.She stood like a marble statue, proud, but not in a dominant position. She did not want to cater the wrong idea about herself. She only wanted it clear she was not afraid, but wasn't holding herself in a stance saying she was better than him. A leader she was, but not his.

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