Sex: MaleDrawn toward the distant mountains, Djali had casually waltzed into the dense thicket with nary a thought, content that he would reach its end by nightfall. But the twisty paths through the tangled wood were all beginning to look alike. Thick shadows crept between the trees and gnarled undergrowth. Unseen creatures flitted and fluttered from behind knobby trees, their scrabbling claws and flapping wings echoing uncannily from dark places. By the time dusky purple light of evening began to descend upon the thicket, Djali was utterly, hopelessly, lost.
His imagination conjured up monsters lurking behind weathered stumps and wrinkled trunks. He pictured horrible creatures falling upon him in the night, gobbling him up with their strange mouths. He saw his remains strewn about to serve as a warning to fellow travelers: be quick or be dead. Djali shuddered. "What did I do to deserve this?!" He fell on his rump and searched the canopy for a clear patch of sky. There was none. The fading sunlight seemed to permeate through the dense trees as if by magic. Djali groaned. May I die quickly and painlessly, he prayed silently; then he frowned and called upon the goddess of travelers with the reverence reserved for the desperate: Damn you Scroll! You're never around when I need you! I'm going to hunt you down when I get up there, mark my words!
Now that he thought about it, it was obvious why she stayed away from her followers.
Djali shrugged, in too sour of a mood to recant. Let her keep a deaf ear to me, he thought. He rose and, stretching away some of his fatigue, resumed his arduous quest through the darkening wood. Unfortunately, his imagination couldn't help itself from fastening monsters to each crude shadow: here stood a misshapen lupine beast; there perched a giant two-headed vulture. A sharp, thin branch snagged his ears, and Djali thought a ghost was reaching for him. He yelped, bolted forward, and suddenly sprang into a small clearing bathed in moonlight. "Oh, sweet freedom! I can live!"
This time, Marsh was making a point of not falling asleep.
It had been quite a time since he had returned to this area, the thicket he had passed through upon first arriving at Relic Lore. It hadn't exactly prompted happy memories, and in the interests of improving his impression of the place, he'd avoided it so far. The waterfalls provided everything he needed in the meantime.
Due to his very recent decision to get to know the region better - and not just the falls - he supposed that a return trip to this area wasn't a bad idea. In order to avoid the mistakes of last time, he set off at the first sign of night; there would be no pesky sun making his limbs warm and heavy this time. Being more comfortable with his surroundings, the copper wolf took his time in his mapping, carefully planning his route and orientating himself with areas he already knew. The wind was his friend, even through the thickness of the forest, and it was all fairly uneventful so far.
Then he stumbled across the clearing which was the site of his mistake here, and paused, a little caught off guard. Snorting lightly to himself, ears pulled back with his discomfort, Marsh hovered on the edge of it. Under the moonlight it was almost an entirely different place, but the lingering scents of flowers was unmistakable. He was about to turn about and call it a day when he heard a voice.
At least he wasn't bloody asleep this time! Attention piqued, Marsh twisted towards the sound, trying to identify the source. A secondary sound, the sound of a smaller creature disappearing into undergrowth, registered but was discarded. It only took a few more moments for the original noisemaker to come into crude, moonlit view. It was a shame the wind wasn't working in his favour this time, but for once, the main point of Marsh's curiosity wasn't simply to analyse the stranger. It had been his words.
What an unusual exclamation that had been! Boggling at the meaning of it, Marsh carefully moved forwards, stature calm. The last thing he wanted was to startle a deranged wolf, and judging by the tone of his voice, there was at least a little madness in his head.
<font style='margin-left:20px;'><b><i>WE'RE ALL A TINY PART OF A BIGGER PICTURE</i></b></font></blockquote>
Despite breaking away from the knotted thicket behind him, Djali's enthusiasm was quickly snuffed out as he looked around. There were moonlit irises, daffodils, and violets galore, all covering the glade in a lush carpet; but Djali's focus quickly shifted to the twisty black shadows that surrounded the clearing, and he realized this glade was only a reprieve, not an escape. "…Crap," he mumbled as his ears flattened and head dropped.
Only then did he notice the new smell intermingling with the flowery perfume. It seemed oddly out of place, so Djali lifted his nose and scented the air for the whereabouts of the strange creature... wolf, as his nose soon identified. And its location was quickly revealed as a shadow silently detached itself from the surrounding darkness. His thoughts still revolving around ghosts and goblins, Djali's hackles bristled as the stranger deliberately threaded its way toward him. Although Djali liked the calm and confident manner of the newcomer, he couldn't say the same for his sudden and unexpected appearance. Needless to say, as the stranger's proximity increased, Djali readied himself to, at any moment, continue the time-honored tradition of running away.
"Ho there, that's close enough," he said, hoping to project an air of confidence he didn't really feel. When it came right down to it, Djali really didn't want to accidentally get himself even more lost with a very hasty, ill-concieved retreat. Unless this stranger is only a very clever monster in wolf's clothing... Possessed with this notion, Djali peered discriminatingly at the shadowy wolf, and his nose quivered curiously. "Who are you… and what are you doing here?" he demanded, praying it wasn't some demon come to steal his soul.
Not exactly in the mood for another unpleasant confrontation in this area, Marsh made sure to pay close attention to this curious figure. It didn't take too long for him to notice that he wasn't alone any longer, and Marsh subsequently slowed his approach. Upon the stranger's first words, Marsh obliged with no complaint, coming to a swift and steady stop right where he was.
By now, Marsh had come to expect questions, and was prepared for these. The ever so fancy way in which the other wolf worked his tongue put the copper wolf a little on edge; he automatically felt uncomfortable with the prospect of verbal communication. It was simply not an area of expertise. The curiosity of the questions put him further at unease; they seemed reasonable, but something about the tone and the manner of this wolf was... off. Was it possible to tell so much from words? That was somewhat new to Marsh.
If this wolf was to make demands of him, then he would reciprocate. His requests were not verbal, though. Making sure to remain in perfect view of the other, despite the waning light, Marsh began to slowly approach again, circling the other a little, making a point of keeping his nose closest at all times. He just wanted to get close enough to inhale the beast. <b>"Mar, rrr, Marsh,"</b> he replied finally, slowly, carefully. <b>"I... live near, nearby. Is - is important tt, to know - know your surrounddddddings. <i>Sssso</i> here I am."</b> At this, he then purposefully cocked his head, tilting it towards the other, making a point of returning the same questions right back at the foreign male.
<font style='margin-left:20px;'><b><i>AND WHAT WE DO IS WHAT IT MEANS TO SURVIVE</i></b></font></blockquote>
There was something so thoroughly natural about the stranger that Djali was a little shocked to hear him actually speak. Even as Djali asked his questions, he was already receiving swift and honest answers in the stranger's body language. The words, of course, were welcomed, although Djali could tell the stranger felt a bit uncomfortable saying them aloud. It was then that Djali decided it would be best to speak as all wolves should. So, as Marsh circled him, Djali remained very still and allowed himself to be properly met. Through smell and posture.
"I'm Djali," he replied more gently. He stuck his nose out curiously, likewise hoping to gain a better scent. But Djali was careful to appear nonthreatening as he made his own investigation of Marsh. He flattened his ears; he kept his tail down and wagging loosely; his stature shrunk a little. He was not keen on being a dominant animal. That required too much work. Making decisions, making rules, following through, acting as guide and counselor and parent; none of these things seemed like much fun. Too much responsibility, Djali thought.
Then, in answer to Marsh, Djal lay slowly on his stomach, with his legs pointed forward, his head up, and his ears still flattened to either side. He glanced at the woods, his brows knitting together somewhat, his jaws open and panting. Djali did his best to portray confusion of his surroundings -- not a difficult task given his circumstances -- offering the explanation: I'm lost. Yet, the couchant wolf could not help but reiterate verbally, "I don't know what I'm doing here. Or where I am." He whined a little, stretching his neck and looking up toward Marsh. Perhaps you could help me?
The idea that Marsh could possibly be a demon was eradicated soon after introductions had been established. Djali was convinced that most demons would have devoured him first and greeted him later. Of course, one still had to be careful about strangers, and Djali was always prepared to run away.
How refreshing.
Instantly, Marsh could tell that here was a wolf, a real wolf, and his previous concerns over flowery language were forgotten. The wolf met him calmly, clearly recognising Marsh's lack of ill intent, and that was highly appreciated. Remaining respectful of the stranger's sense of security, Marsh did not come extremely close, but his reassurance at the other's mutual understanding encouraged him to close the gap considerably. For his part, Marsh did not show any significant dominance; he did not own these lands and had no intent of making this wolf submit to him. There was no point. The only real difference in their postures would have been the marked improvement of confidence in Marsh's own; otherwise, he mirrored the level of submission and neutrality in this wolf, this Djali. Marsh easily permitted Djali's desire to explore his scent in turn.
In the same way they had understood each other through body language, so the following actions were translated well enough. It did help that Marsh could remember the incoherency, the confusion in Djali's earlier tone, when he had thought he were alone. Plus, he did not recognise the male's scent at all, not even from distant parts of Relic Lore, and thus it was easy to conclude he was new in these parts. New and alone. It only made sense that he was lost. For once, the verbal addition only complimented the matter, though Djali probably already knew it was unnecessary. Marsh wasn't petty to try and deny these talkative wolves their desire to speak, not when he could understand them well enough.
Walking calmly around behind the stranger, completing his circle, Marsh came to a stop parallel to the laid-down Djali. When the stranger turned his neck to look up at Marsh, Marsh looked out at the scene Djali had just been contemplating, his silver eyes slowly assessing the great depths of forest and darkness before them. In all honesty, Marsh did not know how to help. The first statement required conversation to unravel, and in itself implied an unsureness and lack of personal direction which, though familiar with, Marsh rarely dwelt on. The second statement was largely irrelevant unless Djali had plans here, or knew anyone here; Marsh knew the place insomuch as he knew the waterfall, and the best routes amongst the trees and bushes, and he knew where Indru's pack was and he knew that Indru's uncle had a pack in the mountains. He did not know the name of it, but names were irrelevant. Indru had mentioned the name, Marsh was sure - but he would never think of it through such means. To him, this place was a series of complex and easily identifiable scents, and that was difficult to translate to another. Djali would just have to make his own maps.
As for the more subtle communication between the two, well - what was Marsh expected to do? He had no pack, so he could offer no home. His crude dwelling by the falls was hardly suited for two, and was only meant to be temporary. He had no food to share, not that sharing it would have been his first instinct. He had very little to offer, but was curiously loathe to leave; it was so rare to find someone who made sense, and Marsh wanted to enjoy it. It was a shame that he had already gotten what he wanted; now he was just fighting his nature.
As such, words were probably required. Damn. <b>"Whh... what are y-yuh, you look - looking for?"</b>
<font style='margin-left:20px;'><b><i>SOMETIMES IT'S BEST NOT TO TRY TOO HARD</i></b></font></blockquote>