you do not know who is your friend or who is your enemy until the ICE breaks. He felt feverish; infected. He needed to get away. He needed time and space to breathe - to cool off. The Sacred Grove was just confining, grating on his nerves and chafing on his spirit, driving him near mad until he'd burst out of it, across the swollen rivers and creeks, disappearing south as the sun slipped towards a bloody horizon. For a moment, the world was red and orange, the sunset lighting filtering down through the trees and casting everything in a fiery glow; minutes ticked by, the sun sank further, and the brilliance died down. Deep purple bruised the heavens now, a couple of stray clouds painted crimson by the setting sun. Light bled from the world and this was the Zeitgeber for many species, be they plants or animals, but not so much for wolves and certainly not for Ice. He prowled like a hungry demon across the face of Relic Lore, leaving large paw prints in the soft spring ground as he went forth. Easy to follow, should one wish - but one should not, for his mood was nothing short of terrible. As darkness rolled in like waves coming to shore, Ice's urgent strides lengthened into a casual lope, carrying him south by west and into forests he had not traversed before. Spacious, was the first word that came to mind as he passed tree trunks that smelled foreign, brushing against the clinging, hanging hands of weeping willows - skeleton fingers, bare of green, nothing but whips and lashes against his hide and mind. Snarling, Ice chose a path free of trees, not wishing to feel their ghostly touches along his spine. Enough with the night wind, increasing rapidly, hammering against him, stroking his fur with fingers of desire and forcing tears to his eyes. Vision blurred, Ice slid to a breathless stop, ears flat against his skull. Damn, it sure was windy, ripping against him and threatening to push him aside. Keening, caught off guard, Ice turned the other way, offering his backside to the strong wind. It howled through the trees, the branches of the willows swaying, whipping in the gusts, creating a sound that was as unpleasant as it was enchanting. It seemed to make the night darker. It definitely served to cool his anger, though. Naira's betrayal still stung, and coupled with Indru's absence, it was near driving him mad. Swift River's densite was ruined by the flood, and everything he saw just spoke of the gaping void the pack was tearing in his heart. It felt like his soul was weeping blood at times, and the confusion - the enigma of Naira's behavior, her very essence neither black nor white - was tearing away the last shreds of ice cold patience. Spring had already set a fire in his blood, and the recent happenings had done nothing but feed it. But here, alone in an unknown forest with only a whipping, roaring wind for company, he felt infinitely better.. which was both strange and unnerving. Briefly, he growled under his breath, but the sound was lost in the din of a night-time storm. His gaze flung itself heavenward, where the brilliant stars were slowly being covered by clouds driven in by the wind. They were coming, massing in the west, but not yet here - not quite. Only a few scattered stratus clouds were above him. Feeling entirely out of place, and yet it all was so perfect, Ice settled down on his haunches and threw his entire head back. The wind pushed against his sturdy frame, ripped at his long, thick fur and rushed past throwing half-heard whispers and screams at him; and the stars, the stars gazed serenely down, reflecting in his solemn eyes. For the first time in so long, Ice spoke to them again, spoke to his lifelong companions and beacons of hope and guidance. "When demons dance and the winds blow, when joy and warmth seems a lifetime ago, who guards and guides all of us lost .. but the stars that shine above like frost?" And the world was at peace. .ice aesir |
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