Fall into the sky

♦♦♦♦♦

Naia’s ears flicked forward as accepted her praise, sounding a little bashful about being complemented. It was... well, it was very cute that he was taken aback, however slightly. She kept her amusement hidden, choosing instead to lighten the mood with her joke about the two of them being misfits. And it was a joke to be sure, but of course a joke is only humorous because it touches on the truth. The wild ones indeed—Naia had always had some trouble settling down. It was one of the reasons she was drawn to the lifestyle of a scout; she could travel like a nomad but still enjoy the security of pack life. The life of a vagabond was seductive, but Naia knew that realistically a wolf of her stature (not to mention pacifistic inclination) really ought to have a pack standing behind her.

Nagga took her teasing in stride, claiming himself as “always the pariah of the bunch”. He even shot her a defiant smirk, giving Naia the impression that he was proud of that fact. An amused grin twitched at the corners of the tawny girl’s mouth. She enjoyed this newcomer’s easygoing sense of humor—not often did she come across a strapping young male who was willing to laugh at himself. As she described the beauty of Relic Lore in the springtime, she noticed Nagga glance around, as if he was wondering what she could possibly see in the place. ”It can’t snow forever,” he said with a little smile, which Naia thought was curious. It was true of course, the snow would eventually melt, but the optimism behind such a statement was what drew Naia’s attention. Most wolves would have replied with something jaded—it was refreshing to speak with someone who wasn’t yet a victim of life’s cruelties.

”Yes,” she sighed in reply to Nagga’s comment on her struggle, ”He was the kindest leader I had ever known… it was hard on all of us. Especially his pups…” Naia’s honey eyes narrowed, and she fixed her stare on the pronghorn carcass hoping that Nagga wouldn’t see the anger that flared up in her expression as she thought of Shade’s children. The delicate girl usually shrank from any sort of violence, but she wouldn’t mind seeing Shade’s assassin ripped open and prostrate in the snow like this deer. It took a special sort of evil to orphan two pups at the start of their first winter. Naia looked back up when her companion asked about Shade’s death. Oh… she began, trying to find her place once more in the story. She shook her head, embarrassed that she had let her emotions distract her. ”Slain by an enemy from his past,” she said simply—not because she was hesitant to reveal information to him, but because that was all she really knew about the circumstances. After Shade’s death, the situation in Pitch Pine Trail had been chaotic to say the least. Frantic preparations for winter were constantly interrupted as pack members struggled to create a new hierarchy, and nobody who knew the whole story was available or willing to discuss the event in detail.

Near stranger as he was, he did not offer sympathy for her situation. It was probably better that he didn’t—if he had expressed sorrow, Naia might have cheekily replied, “Do not apologize for them,” echoing her companion’s first words to her. That was Naia’s curse; she was engaged in a near constant effort to lighten the mood, even (especially) during a serious discussion. No doubt the impulse was left over from the time she spent serving her birthpack as an omega, whose primary responsibility was to dissipate fights before they happened. Although the role of the omega is important, Naia felt shame for her previous Lowest position, certain that she was meant for a more respectable rank. She attempted to suppress the residual behaviors that she felt were indicative of her time spent as an omega, but the biggest problem was that if her vigilance lapsed she acted on her involuntary impulses without really being aware of it.

As it was, she felt relieved when Nagga changed the subject, alleviating her instinctive discomfort with such a serious topic. She grinned easily at his description of the two of them as “homeless,” enjoying the respite that even such a small action as a smile provided from the gravity of their previous subject. ”As a matter of fact, I do!” she answered his question enthusiastically. Naia was more than willing to share what she knew—she collected information from other loners whenever possible, and she was happy to return the favor for a change. ”There are three packs that I am aware of which reside within a day’s travel of our location,” she began, turning away from their meal to face the meadow. Their position on the Rise was perfect for her explanation, with the lands she was about to discuss spread out like a blanket below.

”The closest are the Ridge Wolves—they live directly north of here, along the edge of the Pass,” she told him, turning her head to point the way. If she did not know the name of a pack she used a nickname to keep them straight in her mind. After she delivered the facts, she gave him her opinion. ”I passed their scent markers on the way here and…” she paused, wondering how best to describe the smell. It was always so difficult to put a smell into words. ”They smell sort of rigid, if that makes sense. Strong, though—if that’s what you’re looking for.” A harsh pack with black-and-white rules and swift discipline was not the place for restless Naia, and that was the impression she had received. What she didn’t tell Nagga was that this was the pack that housed Shade’s murderer, and Naia would rather die out in the cold than live in the umbriferous shadow of such a monster.

”If you cross the meadow and enter the woods, you’ll smell the Cave Wolves. I don’t know much about them, but perhaps you can do some sniffing yourself. If cave living suits your fancy.” She grinned as she delivered the last sentence—it amused her to imagine Nagga living in a cave, ivory coat streaked with the abominable gray cave sludge. His pelt would probably never recover. She wished she could tell him more about the Cave Wolves, but the strong stench of cave clay they left behind flooded her senses whenever she neared the border. The smell overwhelmed any other scent, and she was never able to glean anything more from the markers. Naia supposed that it was something you just got used to, but she couldn’t stand the thought of living with that smell following her wherever she went, clinging to her pelt and drowning out her senses. In fact, Naia’s roleplayer guides cave trips professionally, and she finds it hard to believe that anything would actually choose to live in a cave. Even the bats have to escape at least once a day.

”If you pass the Cave wolves and keep travelling north, you’ll reach a marsh. Cross the marsh, and you should smell the River Wolves. They are a fairly new group—At least I don’t remember smelling them last time I was west of the Pass.” The River Wolves smelled like a delightful mixture of fresh, moist soil with a tangy hint of the marsh. It was rare to come across the scent of a River Wolf this far south, but when she did it always intrigued her. She thought perhaps this was the pack that Aeolus had mentioned joining, following two of their other former Pitch Pine Trail packmates. Despite the pack’s collapse they still felt like her family, and she trusted their judgment. If the River Wolves were taking in Pitch Pine Trail refugees then that was where she was headed. ”Once I stretch my legs a little, that’s where I’ll be going,” she imparted. ”There might be another pack or two even further north, but those are areas I have never explored.” Finished with her lecture, she turned back to the pronghorn for a bite to chew on while she waited for Nagga to give his impressions.

♦♦♦♦♦

OOC|| Random question-- do you ever wish there were more words for "smell" when you're playing a wolf? I think that if wolves actually had a spoken language, they would have all kinds of words for smelling and the different scents and whatnot. I sort of struggled with this post, since I felt sort of limited in what I can describe from the perspective of a human.. ||

(This post was last modified: Dec 13, 2013, 04:19 PM by Naia.)

Most definitely, I always try to associate things with scents that I know but I agree that it leaves you extremely limited because our sensory of smell isn't nearly as advanced as theirs. xD

Praise, Nagga felt - narcissism aside - was to be treasured when it came from wolves - or other creatures, even - that did not know him. It was one thing to receive it from Drogon and Massak, after all, they had been his parents and therefore had been obligated to nurture him with praise when he did something that they thought was worthy of it. Naia did not fall under any order of obligation to praise him, and so Nagga felt the - albeit rare - rush of modesty sweep over him like a tidal wave. Contemplation of the concept that Nagga knew as ‘praise’ and ‘modesty’ was hastily tucked away when their conversation had taken the roots of darkness and sorrow, presented to him in the - perhaps relevant - package of information that her pack had disbanded with the death of their leader. Nagga attempted to imagine the woman’s sorrow, feeling a measure of shame that while the information was not particularly relevant to Nagga himself, it might be useful in helping him gain access to a pack. Ever the vigilant scout, he tucked away the tidbits of information that he thought might be useful to whichever pack he found a home in; it did not diminish that he would, likely, use the information to further himself. Nagga felt no measure of need to tell Naia this, not wishing to upset the woman further. It was obvious to Nagga, simply from watching her movements, noting the tensing of her muscles as she (he assumed at any rate) thought about the death of her leader, that she was still mourning him, that grief had not yet vanished. The incident, if Nagga had to guess was relatively still fresh upon her mind…the only other option being that it had happened a while ago and Naia - for whatever reason - was still dealing with her grief. It seemed logical that some wolves grieved for a short while, whilst others held onto their grief. It did not seem all that dissimilar to grudges - concept wise at least. Emotions tended to be delicate things, and Nagga did not want to find himself stepping on the thin ice that the grief, sorrow and anger might have left in it’s wake. Nagga did not know Naia well enough to be able to make any sort of solid judgment on the matter at hand, and so the wraith remained as silent as his nickname suggested, a mute observer - mostly there for support, for he was unable to share in her grieving. A small ‘v’ formed in the brow between blazing, sunset orange colored irises, pupils widening before they narrowed into harsh slits when Naia spoke that the deceased Shade had been slain by an enemy but that the man had orphaned children. Disgust rushed through Nagga’s veins like ice; a shudder slithering down the strong curve of the insipid Ghosts’ spine. Slaying a leader was treason enough in a pack’s eyes, but murdering a father and, in accordance (for these things simply went hand in hand, an order of events akin to a domino effect) leaving two children as orphans was…well, in short, monstrous. Children were innocents, untained and unscarred by the harsh cruelties of life, and in the Thrakon’s mind should not have been made to suffer the war between the adults. Unnecessarily, they had been unwillingly dragged into it, nevertheless. <b style="font-family:georgia; font-size:11px; color:#cb410c;">His children are orphans…? Nagga could not imagine that no one of the pack, even in the chaos of their monarch’s death, would have stepped up to take the children as their ward(s). There was one more thing he did not understand, and too spurred by his curiosity to mind his prying asked, <b style="font-family:georgia; font-size:11px; color:#cb410c;">Was he a lone leader, then…if the pack disbanded? In truth, it was no use in attempting to puzzle out the reasonings and motivations - it was obvious the pack was nothing but a bygone and it was best to let sleeping dogs lie - or so he had heard numerous times. Naia did not seem to mind his swift subject change off of the shadows that had wreathed their way into their conversation like umbriefrous demons, wreaking havoc with the poor woman’s emotions, of which Nagga felt a slight measure of relief. Despite his relief, Nagga remained silent, ears cupped forth to raptly listen to what information she had to offer him regarding the three, according to her calculations -- given that the path that had spliced through the mountain had turned out to be impassable, packs that remained viable options to them currently, tucking her information and descriptions regarding pack scents into the corners of his mind where they would serve useful, no doubt, at a later date. <b style="font-family:georgia; font-size:11px; color:#cb410c;">To the River wolves? Nagga inquired, just to be sure. If he was being perfectly honest with himself out of all of the packs she had described, that one (based off of scent alone) sounded like the best option for him, given that he was likely to feel more at home near water. <b style="font-family:georgia; font-size:11px; color:#cb410c;">They sound like a good place to start, Nagga remarked in a thoughtful tone, head tilting ever so slightly to the side, the Pronghorn corpse they had both been working on momentarily forgotten by the wraith. <b style="font-family:georgia; font-size:11px; color:#cb410c;">I’m partial to being near water. He admitted in a seemingly random matter - though with the memories of Dragon’s Keep teasing the edges of his mind it was hardly random to Nagga, himself.

table by mimi

Avatars and Table by: Mimi <3


0/3 thread(s) available

♦♦♦♦♦

Nagga continued to ask questions about Pitch Pine Trail, and Naia couldn’t help but wonder why. It was certainly an interesting story, but the slight female had thought that surely the young loner would be far more anxious to learn about the packs around here that still existed. Perhaps he was looking to create his own family? It would make sense for him to try to understand more about pack politics—especially failed ones—if he was trying to start a new pack instead of join up with an existing one. It was the only reason that Naia could imagine he would continue to inquire about the fallen Pitch Pine Trail, a morose topic that both of them were clearly uncomfortable discussing. Well, there was the possibility that he simply enjoyed a good story as well… or maybe there was a soft, sensitive wolf under the demonish appearance and he was filled with concern for the orphaned pups.

”Yes, as far as I know their mother was never part of Pitch Pine Trail,” Naia imparted. She had assumed the woman was dead, for what other reason could a mother separate from her young children? ”In her absence, there was no definitive choice for which of us would lead beside him. The position was occupied by several females in a relatively short amount of time.” For reasons unknown to Naia, the females of Pitch Pine Trail had passed the alpha position like a baton—it seemed to always be the case that the woman who occupied the position didn’t want it, and the women who wanted the position were never offered. That was the overarching problem with living in a peaceful, easygoing pack; the ranks were strangely fluid and tentative when wolves were promoted according to merit as opposed to rank challenge. ”Without Shade, and without a firmly established female leader, the pack fell apart.” As she shared, Naia’s ears flattened out in an agitated way. It could be perceived that she was annoyed with the females in her pack for their inability to ‘get it together’, so to speak—but that wasn’t really the case. For some strange, instinctive reason she actually felt reluctant to share her pack’s messy politics with Nagga. There was no logical reason she should feel that way; Pitch Pine Trail was dissolved, and it wasn’t coming back. However, emotions were rarely logical, and discussing private pack matters with an outsider still made her stomach turn.

Perhaps Nagga noticed her agitation, because he changed the subject then to ask about the existing packs nearby. Delighted for the subject change, she told him everything she knew and threw in a few sly opinions, too. Even in the short amount of time the two had spent together, she had grown fond of the pale giant, and it would pain her to see him join up with the wrong bunch—those murderous Ridge Wolves, for instance. She nodded to confirm when he asked for clarification about her headed to the River Wolves. It did seem like the best place to start. If the River Wolves wouldn’t have her, she could continue to explore farther north or backtrack to the Cave Wolves. ”I completely agree,” she said with her trademark grin, ”You’re welcome to join me if you would like to travel there together.” Two wolves standing together against the wilds were better than one, Naia thought, especially when one of those wolves was her size. She would understand if he turned her down though—he seemed to be doing alright for himself, large and powerful as he was, and if he was alone he wouldn’t have to worry about sharing any other meal he might come across.

”I’ll be traveling straight through the center of the meadow though… you might find it easier to go your own way through the treeline.” Ever the diplomat, she offered him a graceful way to decline her invitation. Plowing straight through the meadow was a difficult way to travel; the snow would reach Naia’s chin and Nagga’s chest in most places, and there were likely to be deep snowdrifts hidden that they would crash into. Circumnavigating the meadow through the willow forest was by far the best option—that is, if you weren’t a Pitch Pine Trail Wolf. Even though Pitch Pine Trail had collapsed, Naia imagined that a Ridge Wolf would still attack a former PPT Wolf on sight, especially since the pack’s smell still lingered on her pelt. It would be most prudent for her to avoid any chance of colliding with a Ridge Wolf. ”I doubt the Ridge Wolves would take kindly to smelling me near their borders… but I’m sure you could make it.” As they discussed their departure, Naia grasped the ravaged pronghorn carcass gently and flipped it over. They had decent journey ahead of them, and she wanted to make sure they had stripped the deer of all the meat it had to offer.

♦♦♦♦♦

OOC|| I know that Nagga already has a Join thread at CRR by himself, so if he chooses to team up with her we can just say that they got separated somewhere in the Drooping Willows. We can even play it out if you want, since it seems like this thread is coming to a close. ||

Sent you a PM since I'm in my iPhone and it makes things easier. :3

"Hmm," The soft humming of contemplation vibrated in Nagga's throat as he processed Naia's words that as far as she was aware the children's mother had never been apart of her once Pitch Pine Trail. Whatever the consequences Nagga found that particular bit of information rather curious – if only because such a thing – from what he knew of pack life (ok, at least in Dragon's Keep it was rare, at any rate) for a mother of pups fathered by a male in a pack to not, also, be a part of said pack. Of course the reasons were numerous and, in truth, really did not matter much anymore – certainly not him. The wraith listened in a continued rapt silence is Naia spoke further that the position of lead female hd been well eyed and occupied by many in short bursts of time. Nagga's lips twitched in thought, his ears lowering slightly before they straightened to an alertness once more, simply out of months of habit rather than having actually been alerted by something. Though Nagga was not so crass to speak it, he couldn't help but settle upon the tentative conclusion that perhaps the constant vacancy and inconsistency of leaders (even if it was just the female position) was not an underlying issue as to why Pitch pine trail had crumbled and fallen apart. Naia sort of echoed this train of thought with her next sentence, though, Nagga gave a small nod of acknowledgment trying not to let on that he agreed with her. A pack could not exist without strong leadership – it wasn't cruel, it was simply how instinctual nature worked.

"That sounds great." Nagga broke his pensive silence when Naia suggested about traveling together. Nagga had went through a few companions upon his travels to Relic Lore, and wile Drogon's warning rang once more through his mind, Nagga tucked it away. He did not conceive any notions that Naia met him any harm. Nagga trusted the pallid female, however tentatively it might've been. If she wanted to kill him, she would've done it by now; though the wraith was not as paranoid, perhaps, as his Amazonian mother had been. "I'm alright traveling with you." Nagga reply with a soft smile when she graciously gave him a way to decline her invitation but since he already excepted and had set his mind traveling with her, it seemed silly to decline it. Besides, she knew these lands by far better than he did. Two heads, two sets of teeth, four eyes and all that were better than one. Nagga felt that Naia and him could work in a beneficial companionship that would help them see their goals safely. Taking a cue from her, he grabbed his own pronghorn flank in between his jaws, grasping it with a semblance of delicacy, and looked to her for direction, willingly taking the following position.

Avatars and Table by: Mimi <3


0/3 thread(s) available

OOC|| That's it for this thread! Onto the next chapter in Drooping Willows, whenever you're ready Sixx. ||

♦♦♦♦♦

Though her ghostly companion had been interested enough to ask questions about Pitch Pine Trail’s plight, he offered no opinion of his own beyond a contemplative, ”Hmm”. He twitched a little when she described the situation with her former pack’s lead female, cluing Naia into his inner feelings. Something about the leadership situation hit a false note with him, and Naia had to admit to herself that she should have known something was wrong too. Of course hindsight vision is always perfect, but even so there were wolves disappearing from Pitch Pine Trail long before Shade’s death. They had been objective enough to realize there was a structural problem in the pack, and they had been smart enough to find new homes before winter set in. Naia was one of the few that had clung to the dwindling pack right until the bitter end, which some wolves would see as loyal... and others would call it just plain stupid.

The giant male agreed to her suggestion right away, and Naia couldn’t help but smile demurely. He hadn’t even heard her plan yet, and he was already jumping on board! Faltering a little, she revealed her plan to charge straight through the meadow, offering him a chance to turn her down. ”I am alright traveling with you,” he reassured her, offering again that smile that softened his demonlike features. ”Okay,” she said simply, returning his smile with a dazzling grin of her own. ”River Wolves or bust!”

He seemed to be waiting for her to take the lead, so she started off without hesitation. It didn’t even occur to her that she ought to not turn her back on someone she just met, or that perhaps she should be suspicious of his hasty agreement. Every wolf she had met so far had been honest about his or her intentions, at least as far as Naia could tell. If she had never met a two-faced wolf before, why should she assume that one existed at all? From her rather naïve point of view, wolves were straightforward creatures. Such a trusting nature was bound to hurt her eventually, but she had yet to experience the pain of a backstabbing companion. Naia picked her way down Fireweed Rise with a light heart, her emotions unburdened by fear or suspicion. Chilling as his appearance might be, the specterlike wolf on her heels had agreed to be her traveling companion, which to Naia meant that they would protect and take care of one another, no question about it.

♦♦♦♦♦

(This post was last modified: Jan 07, 2014, 09:32 PM by Naia.)