Mountain of Dire Over the Hills and Through the Woods

the boy she left behind almost as quickly as she discovered him. in three days of aimless travel, she made it here - and she was glad. any time wasted waiting or milling about resulted in a wave of paranoia. she did not want to wait here for the guards to come and snatch her away again; lisette did not know what they had planned for her. with her home gone - controlled by her foul husband, Marceau - it did not make much sense to her that any wolves would want to chase her down. she was not in the way, she had no desire to try and overthrow the man, so why bother? lisette knew she would never understand the minds of those mongrels; they were lowly beings, probably ill-bred and lacking any manner of real brainpower. it was not in her nature to think so ill of someone, but, alas, they had murdered her parents. or for all she knew, that is the result of their encroachment. so here she was, climbing a mountain when she should have been relaxing by a river. when someone should have been doting upon her, maybe even tending to some of her fanciful whims. it was how her world had worked before, and the change did not sit well with her. it was almost more disturbing to the young woman than the loss of her mother and father, but she refused to admit such a thing; it was a scandalous thought, rank with dishonor.

with her mind flitting through all of the troubles she had gone through to get here, to this strange mountain in this strange place, she did not realize it when her paws reached out to tough the earth - and instead, she stumbled. the girl was falling, and before she knew what hit her, the ground was rising up to greet her elongated snout and her paws, tangling against their neighbors, gained a rolling momentum. Lisette fell from the ledge and skidded a few feet, scrambling as fast as she could to right herself; when the dust finally cleared, she was back-to-trunk with a copse of narrow trees. the girl was gasping for air, but each inhalation brought a wave of sharp pain. she bit back the urge to squeal as the initial ache began, and sat as patiently as she could before bothering to try and stand. all of this trouble, and for what? the men had won. she should have just let them catch her.

(This post was last modified: Apr 18, 2013, 02:10 AM by Herringbone.)

The path to Heaven lies

Faol Bayard

through miles of clouded Hell.

Something had lured the black male here, and for whatever reason he couldn't shake the feeling that he needed to be here. He had been wandering the mountains up and down, back and forth, day after day. As familiar as he had become with their vastness in the past week something new always surprised him. While sleeping at night he would hear the unfamiliar sounds of high altitude prey, landslides, and the occasional falling of a few rocks. It was unlike him to stay very long, but he wanted to become more accustomed to the mountains and see what they had to offer him. Faol had not spent much time among them, and he took the opportunity to learn the foliage, prey, and terrain well.

This day had been dreary, but slightly warmer than the others before; for this he was glad. His makeshift den lay between two rocks that had created a small opening in the mountain side. After a good quick draw fight with a snake, he claimed it as his own and took the liberty of watching the sun rise and fall from its opening. Wet nose had led him to scout for prey, but whilst in the middle of scenting the sound of foot steps approached him. He halted, but it was only a moment before the recognized sound of tumbling rocks was accompanied by the scramble and thud of an unknown body. Snaking his way around the mountain he found the culprit halfway buried in small rubble and coated in a sooty dust. His curiosity piqued and he moved down the side, his burly form making sure to place each large foot carefully. It took him longer than some, but he was surprisingly nimble for a wolf his age. Stopping only once more before reaching the wolf he tried to get a better gander at them.

As he made his way down, he noticed the different shades of red that coated their pelt, and he snuffed. Without trying to cause the wolf to startle and cause themselves more damage he spoke firmly, "Are you alright there, stranger?"