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+---- Thread: Riddle Heights flip a coin and hold our breath (/showthread.php?tid=510)
flip a coin and hold our breath - Finch - Oct 21, 2010
Having come over the mountains, Finch had seen nothing that she hadn't seen before. Of course, as a yearling headed towards her second year on the circular earth, she couldn't help but partially believe that she had seen it all before. Mountains, valleys, all of them littered with rivers which corusated underneath sunlight. And she was bitter of course, exasperated beyond belief at the turn of events that had come to the fold.
Finch had never anticipated being out on her own. She would have been perfectly happy staying with her parents and siblings both older and younger, but the world she lived in dictated otherwise. With no particular skill sets and only being well-rounded in skill, she hadn't lived up to their expectations. It was too easy to resent them, and she did things the hard way and backwards. Instead of going to a neighbouring pack which more than likely would have taken her in, she had spend the summer travelling away from all of them out of spite. And now she found herself in the foothills of the mountain she had just come down from, and her feet were going surprisingly in any direction they wanted.
So quite frankly, she didn't know where she would end up. And she was lost, being so far outside of her element that the midday sun did very little to comfort her by lighting up anything that had importance. No signs, no tips, nothing. All Finch could hope for was some sort of sign that what she was doing wasn't as foolish as it had begun to feel in the last two weeks.
flip a coin and hold our breath - Turk - Oct 24, 2010
Pardon the sheer awkwardness of this, lol. >_>
Turk had been in the middle of traversing the mountains when bitter night had fallen around him—he had cursed, having wanted to get down to the foothills in time to find a place to sleep. In the end he had curled up and crashed in a rocky cavern, out of the way of the wind. It was probably warmer up there than any alcove he would’ve found in the highlands, but that wasn’t the point. These dens with stone walls, they were linked strongly to his memories—that of his childhood at The Rock, growing up thinking that the world was a bright place when, in truth, he had been living amongst darkness all along. When the plains wolf woke up the next morning he almost thought that he was back there, if not for the briefest moment. And then his mind snapped to the present—his endless journey, to see the world. His goal was rather vague; sometimes he fancied that he was just trying to see if there was any good in the world, any good in people. So far, he had not found any significant evidence of it.
He was a man accustomed to scowling, even when he had very little of interest going on in his head. As he carefully scaled down the rest of the mountain that bright autumn morning and began to lope through the lands called Riddle Heights by the locals, that same grim expression had settled on his scarred face.
Yes, he believed that his journey was endless, and in vain as well. Packs were things that didn’t really appeal to him—he was someone much more used to solitude. At least then he could depend simply on himself, what he believed was right. In a pack, he was under the jurisdiction of others—others whom he might not agree with. Turk had a problem of insubordination based on his own beliefs—something that he carried around as a scar on his face—and that was the basis of his resistance to joining any type of group. He was not made for it, he supposed. The thought of bending his head always to someone was repugnant; he had a wild streak of individualism.
Apart from all that, the traveling was much easier now that the elevation had leveled off. His gray eyes registered, a little ways off, the dusty-gray shape of another wolf. He wasn’t close enough to notice gender or if it was part of a pack, and Turk didn’t really care. Making no move to venture much closer than his parallel traveling path, he continued on.
flip a coin and hold our breath - Finch - Oct 25, 2010
She travelled easy, living the slugabed lifestyle as best as she could, or at well as she could afford to get away with it. It wasn't easy, this travelling thing, and it often left her wondering why others were often so keen to keep at it. But no matter, she didn't really have too much time to think about things like that. It was going to have to be her way of life for a while, at least until she found somewhere that was suitable to settle in for the time being. At least for winter, maybe longer, it all depended on what she would find while she was there.
Right now, she wasn't too particularly wowed by it all. Mountains and valleys, mountains and valleys, were there really anything other than mountains and valleys out this way? She had crossed the plains, come down from the ridges, climbed up the foothills; she had seen the rivers and made her way around the shores of lakes. All to no avail, nothing had jumped out and even fewer places had struck her as welcoming. Any wolf she had met along her travels that had belonged to a pack wasn't exactly the type to just take someone in. Not someone who didn't have some particular skill. Finch wasn't the greatest at hunting, she didn't know very much about plants to do any fancy healing, and she hadn't really been given a chance to show that she could care for her younger siblings either.
No, her parents had been sure to keep her away, and she wasn't sure why.
The conversations they had all had came back up to the forefront, but only momentarily. Someone else was coming down the path opposite to her, and their lives were bound to intersect. Not briefly as in passing, because Finch was hardly that sort. "Hey you!" She didn't care if he had already seen her, she wanted his attention. "You from around here?"