the spring from the rock

Oct 24. Somewhat overcast, with a cold wind.

In retrospect, Firenza was quite certain that these rocky cliffs were not the easiest route she might have taken to reach the mountains off to the west.  Had she known the place was known as Sierra Hills, she might have given a scoffing bark, so ridiculous and understated was the name.  They were steep rock faces where climbing from ledge to ledge was the only viable means to continue onward, except when spindly little passageways snaked up the rust-hued stone.  However, Firenza was determined to overcome this challenge, as she had so many others during their summer of traveling, and so she hauled herself onto the next ledge with a grunt from the effort. 

Having been at it for the better part of the day, Renza felt her limbs quivering from the exertion.  A leap that was nimble despite her fatigue brought the dark-furred yearling onto a broader swath of rock, and a sudden smile played across the girl's black lips.  On either side of her, sheer walls deeply creased with the lines of eons of formation rose, but before her was an unexpected passageway through the mountainside,  The strangest tinkling sound, not immediately identifiable just because of its unexpectedness, met her ears; they cupped forward to take in the noise.  It was her nostrils that made the connection between the sound and the fresh smell of water.  A tiny rivulet of water originated from a fissure in the stone, slid down the russet wall, then vanished once again in the seams of two boulders.   

Firenza's cotton candy tongue was a sharp contrast to her dusky fur as she licked her lips.  Two strides brought her to the ribbon of water dancing across the red stone, and she admired the unique sight, then dipped her head and lapped at it.  The water was fresh and clean, strong with the flavor of minerals picked up from its rocky source, and Renza fancied she had never tasted anything so refreshing and so very cold.  Wind whipped through the narrow passageway, rifling the one-year-old wanderer's chocolate fur.  Even the slowly descending sun, which had previously been an unwelcome reminder that she didn't wish to spend the night on these mountaintops, seemed a heartwarming sight than before.  

A few moments to breathe and enjoy the sight of the greenery that sprawled out at the western base of the hills left Firenza reinvigorated, and she began a careful descent, choosing her way carefully over this only slightly-less steep mountainside.

(This post was last modified: Oct 26, 2013, 09:59 PM by Firenza.)

firenza's sister & cousins are up for adoption
also looking for threads/plots for renza
so pm me!

His home was considered a haven – perhaps he was biased, and yet he knew any weary traveler would believe such a statement as well if they only laid eyes upon the serene trees of the magnolias. Of course, the Relic Lore he had grown accustom to across the mountain had been tantalizing in its beauty, and while the Vale of Secrets left much to be desired, the land did have its merits.. and the rusted hill he stood upon now was testament to this. The sway of the smooth rock mirrored that of an ocean wave – at least, from memory he could pull such a thing, and as his eyes wove across the intricate details of the rock terrain, he knew many others would find the territory itself majestic.

Scoping out the lands he deemed home was not the true reason of being here, though. The heavy rains of the past few days had risen the creek levels to an alarming height, and while he worried for the safety of his children, he knew he should also see how the rest of the land fared during mother nature’s rage. Initially, he had considered taking either Kyros or Hypatia with him – even Elliot, yet he knew he could be more efficient on his own, and so with a n echoing howl to the rest of the pack to inform them of his whereabouts, the regal ivory male had swept away from Magnolia Glen and to their neighboring terrain.

Overcast now, Phineas could feel the chill of autumn’s grasp upon his spine as he gave his pelt a shake. His bright orange eyes gleamed as they regarded the scenery before him, and as he began to rise to higher heights, his thick paws carrying him with a steady pace, it was then the wind told the tale of another.

While such a landscape would usually prove to challenge his ability to seek out the presence, it would seem fate was on his side and from the peripheral of his vision, a swarthy form caught his attention. Blinking, his muzzle swung in the direction of the she-wolf, noting her scent to be unfamiliar. He was quick to switch his path in her direction, and as she descended unknowingly toward him, he climbed higher to meet her, waiting for her to notice his stark ivory fur against the auburn surface.

As she picked her way down the hillside, Firenza frowned at each gust of cold air that threatened her already-precarious balance. The rains that had plagued her travels ever since the group of five seperated had been a hindrance, but little more. But the dropping temperatures and the changing leaves that fell from tree limbs shuddering in the wind told her that winter was approaching, nearing by the day. The time frame in which she could potentially find a winter home for herself and her family was dwindling, and yet Firenza was not ready to leap into the ranks of just any who would have them.

Renza wondered if the others had had any fortune yet, but she feared just the tiniest bit for their judgement. Sunbird and Violet were just too kind-hearted. They'd think the nicest pack was the best, nevermind that "nice" didn't equate to "well-eqiupped to survive the winter." Tercel and Mercury might have a better inkling of what made up a strong pack, but both had perfectionist tendencies in their own way, and would surely disagree and always think there might be somewhere better around the next corner. That left matters to Firenza, then, who prided herself on making the best choices for all of them, but who still concerned deep inside that she was incompetent in leading them and might eventually cause some catastrophe to befall them all. For now, however, the biggest calamity would be enduring winter's freezing temperatures without the shelter and stability of a pack with stored food and strong numbers to defend itself.

These were the thoughts that distracted Firenza from navigating a steep and rocky incline. She had been choosing her foot placement quite carefully, but a moment of deep thought had made her careless, and the next step forward was laid upon a loose collection of pebbles. Beneath the dark she-wolf's weight the stones shifted and rolled, and Firenza had slid several yards before she could even try to regain her balance. She ended up laying on her stomach, feeling the friction burns and scrapes along her underside, with a small cloud of rust-colored dust that settled into her brindled fur. "Damn it, Renza, you're never clumsy," she cursed under her breath. She stumbled back to her paws with a glare at the hill she'd just tumbled down. I'll be feeling these bruises for a few days, she thought with a sigh.

Facing forward again to regain her bearings, Firenza practically fell down again from surprise. Just a wolf-lengths away was a large ivory wolf, his coat marbled with greys and darker hues, with smouldering eyes that mimicked the hue of the surrounding stone walls. Firenza lifted her head with confidence in an attempt to pretend she hadn't just taken the short (and painful and embarrassing) way down the mountainside, and let her tail sway neutrally, inviting the other wolf into conversation. Sunny might have said something flirtatious, like I couldn't wait to meet you, even though the male looked to be at least a couple of years older. Firenza, always direct and to-the-point, just said, ""I'm Firenza del Bosque. Do you know this area well?"

(This post was last modified: Oct 26, 2013, 10:03 PM by Firenza.)

firenza's sister & cousins are up for adoption
also looking for threads/plots for renza
so pm me!

He watched her snake her way down the steep hills -- not once considering that her fluent motions were hindered by uncertain steps until the swarthy girl's paws gave way with sliding pebbles and she was soon upon her belly. He winced inwardly at the scrapes she would not hold, though gave no way to move forward and assure she was alright. She was, after all, a stranger.

Indifferent to the situation at hand, the she-wolf seemed to curse herself, though he could not hear her words fully. She scowled as she regained her footing, and still his presence was unnoticed. He shifted his weight then, feeling the cold breeze bristle the soft ivory pelt that adorned his large figure. It was chilling, and a harsh reminder to the oncoming season. This would be Magnolia Glen's first winter in their home, and he was anxious to see how the lands would fair -- it was these uncertainties that truly chilled him, and in these moments, he regretted moving the pack wolves across the mountain to unknown lands. Perhaps they should have stayed in the Eden valleys of Relic Lore.

He was pulled from his thoughts when the stranger finally looked his way -- the stark ivory of his pelt against the crimson terrain announced his present greatly, and while he could not read the flicker of emotions that seemed to course against her features, he could only gather what her thoughts were as she jutted her muzzle up higher. Such an act could have been taken as a display of dominance, and a rumble threatened to slip past his throat.. yet the easy sway of her tail invited good nature, and he remained neutral, regarding her blankly.

His ears cupped forward as she spoke, appreciating that she was at least to the point. "Phineas Argyris," he returned smoothly, his own tail giving a sweep through the chilled air. "I don't know this specific hill well, no. I live west of here. The region itself is the Vale of Secrets.. and the inhabitants have named this Sierra Hill." There was a small pause, his eyes falling upon her cheek. It wasn't much information to offer, but he strayed very little from his pack and lands.