Drooping Willows Amongst the Weeping

She had come from the mountains; her new home. Muscles were well defined, her feet experienced when scaling the rugged mountains. It was time for a break. Time for relaxation.

The creamy female padded silently through the willows, dark eyes observing the drooping branches. A small grin had slithered across her maw; she was in awe of the trees' beauty. Tail wagging ever so slightly, she began to hum to herself. It was a sweet song, rich in notes, matching her jolly mood. She was a wolf of joy, and there was no other who would be capable of breaking such a personality. After minutes of walking, Chantille paused, standing now at the base of an old willow.

The tree seemed sad, extending its branches downward to touch the elegant female. She looked upward, smiling at the willow. "Lovely" The word came out in a whisper, but to her it seemed like she was speaking normally. The trees were silent, and she would be as well. There was no point in disturbing what appeared to be a silent forest of these trees.

With this, she turned several times before laying herself down upon the soft soil. Moss squished beneath her weight, and she shifted, getting into a comfortable position. Leaning her head backward, Chantille rested her white-cream head against a root that bulged near the base of the tree. There was so much to admire of this foliage. How long has it been alive? What has it seen?

The willow trees swayed gracefully as a gentle breeze
parted each of the long tiny branches. A young wolf sat under
the tree looking up through the branches. Her blue eyes stared in wonder
as the trees' flexible branches twisted and twirled in the wind. She had
never seen trees like these before.


With a twitch of her nose she scented wolf on the wind. But ever since
she'd come over the mountains and met the first she wolf Treena she had scented
wolf after wolf in this new land. Appearantly there were many wolves in this place.
Lots of wolves and scents but not a trace of her father whom Narimé searched for.
The silver yearling shook her fur and looked in the direction of the wind.
This wolf scent was rather fresh compared to the older scents that littered the area.
Narimé didn't want to meet another wolf who might attack her but she also
hated being alone. Ever since her father had left a sort of depression had made
her fill with anxiety. Everytime she met a wolf her axiety would vanish and
she would feel more relaxed rather than being on edge all of the time.


What Narimé didn't know was that the white she wolf was padding straight
in her direction until the she wolf stopped and laid herself down into the soft soil.
The gray wolf twisted her ears around and tried looking for the wolf. Was it dangerous?
Or would the wolf be friendly? She asked herself these questions as she stood up and
began walking away from her tree towards some others.
She was so intent on finding the other wolf that she did not watch her
paws. Roots of the trees occasionally poked out of the soil and one such root
caught the young wolfs paws and tripped her in full view of the
white female. Narimé picked herself off the ground, leaves and twigs littered her
coat as she picked up her paw and licked it. It hurt just a tiny bit. Like a stubbed toe,
but she was okay. She still didn't see the female sitting close by.

The silence loomed as the trees did. Chantille wished that the branches she lay below would reach down and scoop her up, only to cradle and lull her into a deep sleep. She paused her humming to release a loud sigh, and raised her head up. A thump echoed off the trees, reaching her ears at lightning speed. With a tilt of her delicate head, she looked around the side of the tree. There a silvery wolf was, on the ground. The small young woman picked herself up quickly as if nothing had ever happened. Smiling softly to herself, Chant leaned forth, exposing herself whilst still laying.

"You alright there?" she asked gently, kind brown eyes aglow with wonder. Her tail swept the dirt around her haunches as she watched the young wolf before her. She seemed a bit older than a year, but not by much- she could not tell all that well. Wet ebon nose took in the scent of the girl as Chantille slowly rose up to her paws. Her tail remained at a neutral stance as not to alarm the young wolf. Carefully, she stepped forth, white paws gingerly placing themselves upon the soft soils surrounding the willow she had been laying beneath a moment before. After a few steps, the wolf stopped, awaiting the reaction of the one before her.

Narimé looked up at t white she wolf in surprise.
Where had she come from? Then she closed her eyes and whined.
"Oh I hope you didn't just see that." She lowered her head and tried to hide her
face behind her foreleg in embarassment.
She peeked past her leg at the snowy she wolf. She stood quietly in her place
non aggressively.
"Yeah I'm okay." She shut her yap and layed her ears back. How could she trip
in front of another wolf?! Stupid stupid!
Then the she wolfs scent blew towards her. She had the same scents of a pack on her
that the other female Narimé met on the mountains had. Were they from the same pack?
"Umm Is it okay if I sit with you?" She lowered her head and tail submissively while
she looked up at the female.

A delighted look lit up Chantille's face as the wolf asked if she could sit with her. Taking a step back now, the milky pelted woman sat back down, her rear just touching the trunk of the sullen tree. "Of course you may" she said, voice smooth and silky. A fire began within Chantille; it was that of joy. Young wolves were always a soft-spot for her, for she enjoyed listening to what they had to say. It was a constant dream for Chant to birth her own pups...but that was very unlikely to happen. Shaking away such thoughts, she watched the young woman before her as embarrassment inscribed itself across her face. "I am Chantille. I hope you do not mind me asking, but what is a young wolf such as yourself wandering alone?" A bit of worry strung itself through her voice, and the elegant female leaned her head forward. It took all of her might not to begin grooming and comforting the female. Her maternal instincts were taking over, and she tried her best to restrain them. Ears flickering, Chantille flicked her fluffed tail in a welcoming manner towards the silvery wolf.

Narimé was so happy that this female was friendly.
Maybe even friendlier than the last golden coated one she had met.
So the silver coated yearling lowered herself further and crawled towards
Chantille. Once she was next to her she licked the white wolfs chin just
a little in gratitude. Her eyes lit up happily as she straightened just a bit into a
more comfortable sitting position.
"Hello, My name is Narimé Lagina..." She cocked her head slightly seeing the she
wolfs question then dipped her head and closed her eyes.
"Well, we, I mean my father and I. Hmm....My father led me away from our pack."
She looked back into her memories still confused as to why he decided to leave."And well he led me all the way to those tall mountains. I think your packmate was there
in the mountains? She had the same scents as you I think...But so she helped me
out up there. Sorry...." She was going to far. She needed to tell the she wolf about
her father. Maybe she might know who and where he is." Before I met your packmate I was seperated from my father. We were eating at a
carcass when a bear came and attacked us. We must have ran different ways
and got seperated, then the rain came a few nights ago so now he wouldn't be able
to track me nor would I be able to smell him." She sighed and wondered if she
would ever see her white father again.
With a little shrug of her shoulders the gray pup continued.
"Anyways, He was going north for some reason. Maybe he was headed
here to this place or maybe continuing on,but if I keep going north then
maybe I will find him." Narimé looked up at the she wolf hoping she wouldn't be so
not full of hope like Treena. She did know that what Treena had said could probably
be true. That her father had died, but she had to hope, she had to think that he was okay.

"Narimé" Chantille repeated, almost tasting the name in her mouth. If it had a flavor, it would be sweet- not overpowering, but very subtle. With a motherly smile, Chant nuzzled behind one of the silver wolf's ears. "Very pretty name." She listened intently at Narimé explained to her exactly why she was wandering about. The smile that was once upon Chant's muzzle now turned to a slight frown. "Oh, I am terribly sorry to hear that...I am sure he is looking for you just as you are him." Of course, in all honesty, Chantille did not know what to say to the wolf. What if her father was dead? She would leave her response up in the air for Narimé to take it however she'd like. She had never lost any family member, so it would be difficult for her to relate. Chant had left them, not the other way around. Dipping her dead downward so as to get to eye level with the young wolf, her voice dropped to almost a whisper "Never let your hope die; keep looking, dear." After these words, the creamy female's jaws closed and she was silent. Kind chocolate gaze remained upon the young woman's blue-purple one.

This she wolf seemed very friendly, almost loving.
Narimé was reminded of her mother when she looked at Chantille.
"Thanks so much." She smiled and twitched her ear after the snowy wolf
nuzzled it. She was smaller for an adult, but Narimé didn't realize that Chantille
was of smaller more northern stock. White wolves from the arctic who grow smaller.
Even so right now Narimé thought that this wolf was the biggest hearted of them all.
She felt all warm and happy after the female spoke to her.


"That's right! I won't give up!" She stood up with her head high and looked up at
the sky through the dangling branches. Her father had to be alive! But even if he wasn't
she would know that his heart still lived on. With her. Even though he had been acting
wierd the whole time he was leading her north. She knew he was only trying to do the
right thing for her. Now however she was sure that this was the place that he was
trying to take her to. With all of the wolves who lived around here. But how did he know
about this place? She pondered this thought after she sat down next to Chantille again.


"Do you think I will ever find a home again?" She looked up with a smile at the white wolf.
Her eyes sparkled like diamonds in the sunlight.

Chantille nodded to the young wolf, a toothy grin making its way across her muzzle. "Of course you will!" she said, tail swaying along the ground as she spoke. Soon, the toothy grin was gone. She bit her tongue, unsure of what to suggest to little Narimé. Then, it hit her. "Have you been to the mountains, Narimé?" Chantille asked lightly, turning her head toward the cumulus of jagged rocks. Oh, how it was beautiful up there- the sky, that is. It's not always lovely staring at stones all day, but you get used to it. Navigating the mountains were a whole other story. "I live up there" She added this to make the wolf feel comforted, and know that if she ever needed the creamy woman, she would be in the mountains. Her eyes fell upon the girl now; she felt sorry for her. Being a lone wolf at such a young age was nothing close to easy. She wanted to snuggle Narimé under her pelt and keep her there forever. Oh goodness. Chantille desperately wanted pups of her own. Shaking her head, she blinked, looking back toward her home- the mountains.

(This post was last modified: May 22, 2012, 03:18 PM by Chantille.)

Her trail had been never ending- a spiraling circle from the heart of the drooping willows to it's boarders, all the way from the edges of the mountain side to the soggy area along the lagoon's edge. She had been in obvious pursuit with each determined steps, a search for her party of followers: Kyrie (whom she had not seen in some time, the first of her followers), Remy, Lifdis and her daughter, Dagrun, and Koda (their only male as of yet) . Struggling to keep her members (or what would be her members) together, she felt a further determination to get this settled with, her pack formed. Though her mind swirled with questions of Alexander, she had not seen him since her leave of Grizzly Hollow. She wondered if he even remembered her, now?
Choking back a sigh, the woman kept on the move, only hesitating to the voices, scent and even sight of two others ahead. Though she grows cautious of them, she does not allow this to hinder her trail around the landscape and thus, approaches them, though offering a wide berth so that she may not appear aggressive to these strangers.