Midnight Plateau pathfinding

watched it pour as I touched your face

i set fire to the rain

cause I heard it screaming out your name

There had to be a nearer way across the mountains than all the way up to the passable route near the Secluded Spring. With time running out every second, Ice had set out one evening, well-rested and well-fed, with a quick word to everyone that he would be back in a few days. He didn't want to drag the pack through Rissa's death route if he could avoid it, afraid of what memories it might spark in the trio who had tracked, and seen, her. Once Aniwaya had been eradicated nothing would stop them from moving, and truth to be told, Ice was relishing it. He was waiting for the time they would wipe those bastards out, and then they, too, would need an easy track across the mountain, unless they wanted to do the day-long, exhausting climb by the side of the peak, and start from Rissa's body. The thought of bringing strangers to her resting place made his gut clench — given the manner they ran rampant in the Lore, they shouldn't be too hard to track down on the other side. And then... His gaze darkened, and he heaved himself up a particularly steep section, pale legs flexing and pushing as he sprang up the rocky path. It seemed to be a track frequently used by mountain goats, which had worn the snow down and made it easy to follow, and so far it hadn't been terribly tricky to get up. If the trail took him onto too narrow ledges, or through long leaps, he'd find another way. He might be adept at moving in mountains, but he wasn't related to a goat.

Time wore on, and the clouds which had obnubilated the stars drew back, bathing the snow-covered mountainside in pale silver light. It was breathtakingly beautiful, and Ice paused for a moment just to drink it in, before continuing. It was nicer to take a well-used route for once, instead of plowing belly-deep in snow up the steep, craggy mountainside. Perhaps making a path was a bad idea by the goats, but he'd seen them move here; one whiff of predator, and they were off in the rough terrain, somehow running down the steep sides and jumping onto the rocky out-shoots. They were in no danger from clumsy wolves. Breathing heavily Ice kept laboring up the mountainside, and eventually ended up in a kind of flat landing. Perhaps three yards wide, and twenty yards long, on one side the mountain wall rose, and the other, a long way to fall. Ahead, the slope picked up again, and so did the path. About halfway across, though, the River wolf paused, and turned his head sideways. There was a gap in the walls... Curious, he drew closer, even as the sky began to lighten up in the east.

Into the shadow of the wall, and there, yes, an opening, a gateway of sorts; black nose quivered to old smells, and then he poked his muzzle through. Empty. The pale creature slipped inside, the snow largely undisturbed. A few solitary animals had been here, none recently, and none resident. Slowly his gaze swept, from the immediate information by his paws, and up, across the vast expanse of snow. Far and on it stretched, walled in by the tall, craggy rocks. Breathing quietly for fear of disturbing the sleeping pace Ice went deeper, marveling at it; the wind which blew outside barely stirred the snow here, and everything was nearly silent, save for the shuffle of his paws through the snow. And each minute he spent gawking at the scenery the sky grew brighter and brighter, until finally the sun slipped over the horizon and took his breath away and made him stop. Every crystal upon the snow's surface leaped into life, shimmering, sparkling, glowing bright like a carpet of stars.

template base by GINNYSAURUS | image by GREY

(This post was last modified: Apr 14, 2015, 01:26 PM by Serach.)

let the stars above shine in your soul

• damn. your posts are so beautiful. stop it D:
  also we're going to pretend this is before he gets nabbed. cause she just gets complicated after that.

He couldn’t remember who had told him about it… it was just a rumor he had heard as a child and time had turned it into a tall tail in his mind. Eagerly he had slipped away that morning before the sun rose. Midnight Plateau, the lost pack. Late at night sometimes he would wake Belladonna up and weave ghost stories about the mountain mesa and the wolves who had once lived there. What was this strange fascination that the young Aquila boy had for abandoned stomping grounds and fallen empires? He clung to their memories even as he despised them, carried them around in his heart and cherished them in a way. It would be a long time before he found out why.

In the haze of dawn he made his way farther up the mountain, his paws took for granted the immortal footholds eroded by centuries of nomads that paved the way before him. He simply walked. His pace was determined but careless. Datura might have been adept when it came to social life, yet he was lacking terribly in his understanding of his relationship with the physical realm. He was nimble, yes, he knew how to get around because he had always lived here... but there was no grace in his step, every movement sent little pebbles tumbling over some edge. He was deaf to the natural world in which he lived.

If Midnight Plateau was out there, if it really existed it chose not to reveal itself to the young, curious boy. Frustrated, his golden head whipped left and right, and down a relatively shallow ravine he saw a pale stranger standing there... gawking at something that the gilded boy could not see. He had no idea that it could have been the glittering snow around him. To him, the snow was dull and lifeless. Unafraid, he called down to the wolf, "What're you looking at?"

Well that was awful rude of, he thought, suddenly remembering his manners and berating himself. "Morning," he amended with a jovial wave of his tail and a booming voice, "I was just curious... I caught you looking at something and I just. Well, I can't see anything."

Not that that sounded any better.

"Not to say I was staring at you or anything... I only saw you just now. I... I'm sorry." He didn't know why he was so flustered. Quit while you're ahead. "My name is Datura Aquila. I live farther along the mountain." Vaguely, he gestured behind him, northward.

watched it pour as I touched your face

i set fire to the rain

cause I heard it screaming out your name

Barely had he been given time to enjoy the scenery, the glimmer of sun upon the snow's cold crust, that a voice called out between the rocks. Youthful of timbre, yet with the depth of a widening chest, it bounced around him, but Ice had no trouble pinpointing its source. With the wariness found in wild animals his body jerked, silver eyes snapping onto the figure upon the heights. Too gold, and too brash, to be a goat. Sunlight struck him from the side, giving him a halo of light to tip the edges of his thick, wind-ruffled coat. It burnished his already bright fur, and for a moment, Ice wondered if the Sun itself had decided to come down and say hello. But did the Sun have such bad manners? Perhaps, and the thought curled the River male's lips into a small smile, baring just the slightest hint of teeth. Flame and fire was passionate, could often burn, even without meaning — though the young boy (for that Ice was sure that he was, but one promising to be a large man) quickly realized what he'd done, and amended it with a more polite greeting. Once, Ice had not been too different; young in the head, speaking before he knew what was out of his mouth, and then abashedly correcting himself. What was it he'd told Vlardinara, so long ago? That he liked being polite? Sad to think, it was so long since he had spoken like he used to.

And his tongue seemed just as unruly as Ice's; the white one was grinning now, tail wagging without him recalling telling it to do so. When did you grow up, Ice Aesir? he asked himself, his ears listening to what the golden boy had to say, waiting for him to stop tripping over himself. Where did he come from, anyway, if not the brightening sky? The darkness was receding, pulling back, the stars fading out, yet they were still alive, in the sparkles beneath him. Like some divine hero he stood upon them, yet he wondered why this Datura Aquila could not see what he saw. Or was it the worry, finally making him mad? Merry eyes trailed the boy's gesture, seeing only the looming peak of the Dire. The Serpent was a large range, and Ice mentally noted that another pack had formed. That numbered the ones he knew to five. "Good morning, Datura," Ice called up, his own voice sliding along the black crags. It was fortunate that the wind ripped the other wolf's scent away, masking the two ones he had branded into his brain, never to forget. They laid there in that darkness, together with Rissa's captors.

"I'm Ice — I live west of here, in the forests. And..." He flipped one ear back, taking his eyes off the young wolf, and regarding where he stood instead. Rays of sunlight made the snow shimmer, yet pale enough to not sting his eyes, and cast the dark walls into stark contrast against the pristine white. The air was cool, thin, but fresh in his lungs — it made him feel alive, if nothing else. Slowly, he turned his gaze back to Datura, tipping his muzzle up to better see him. "I was looking at this place, at the sky..." His voice trailed out as his focus shifted, to the cold, washed-out blue bordered by the pastel peach and yellow heralding the sun. Blinking, Ice let his gaze reset on the other wolf, his tail growing still for a moment, and his voice quieter. ".. at how beautiful it is."

template base by GINNYSAURUS | image by GREY

let the stars above shine in your soul

• DAMN YOU FOR GIVING ME DATURA-MUSE AND MAKING ME RAMBLE xD....
  oh btw you broke him.

The boy could have had no idea how lucky it was that he was standing upwind rather than downwind. He couldn't have known the connection that he shared with this wolf who knew his parents —much better than he did, at least— but otherwise appeared to be a stranger. Being orphaned so early on in his life, no one had bothered to tell him the story of his conception, the story of Poison Path's conception. Never having had a reason to give his history much thought, Datura had always assumed that he was born in Posion Path and it had always existed. This outsider, however, this man standing down in the ravine, would have been able to tell him otherwise. But perhaps it was not meant to be, and perhaps this was for the best —Datura would have resented having his world ripped apart another time, and Ice might have treated him with much less kindness.

And so they came to each other as unknowing strangers.

The white frosted male responded easily, with manners far more elegant that the young boy's. At least, that was how Datura saw it. Being so young, the golden boy's idea of manners was very limited, a schema constructed out of what he had seen the other adults doing. Manners meant giving your name and where you came from, making some small talk, and steering the conversation carefully away from anything that was painful or personal. The stranger, Ice, very quickly fulfilled the first two characteristics of a well-bred individual, and Datura liked him instantly. Or, at least he thought he did.

After a moment, Ice's eyes of frozen steel drifted off, and suddenly it was as if he was looking at Datura but not really seeing him. Datura got the feeling that Ice wasn't really looking at him anymore at all. It looked more like the hoarfrost coated stranger was staring off at a point just beyond his golden head, and so curiously Datura turned his head, wondering if there was someone who had come up behind him.

But there was no one there.

His golden head turned back to the stranger. If interest could have melted snow, Datura's surely would, for it burned hotly in his chest and streamed from his breath like fog. He hated being left out of something, and this something seemed especially good. Datura was being lead into a trap and he wouldn't even realize it until it was far too late. Several more seconds passed before Ice's attention drifted back to the sun-kissed boy-king who shivered — he could feel an answer coming.

"I was looking at this place, at the sky... at how beautiful it is."

Immediately the boy felt as if this stranger had betrayed him, the words stung. His honey-dipped ears twisted backwards as he fought to control the feelings that threatened to run away with him. Memories from a different part of his life teased at the back of his mind, and vaguely he thought of her gentle laughter and her love affair with the lake. But Datura did not want to think about her anymore, she was dead to him. Once more he closed his heart and forced himself to find some sort of genial response to this innocent man who had made the mistake of staring at the sky. He took a deep breath to calm himself. Just play along. Forget her. You can lie to this man. Perhaps it would be easier if he just pretend to be someone else, pretended to be a different Datura Aquila. One who didn't dislike nature so much.

Trying to play the part, the golden boy tipped his head towards the sky and tried very hard to see the beauty in it. But Datura knew nothing about beauty and was very hard for him to pretend that he did. He found he could not even think of how to lie about it. He was not bright enough to answer with some sort of noncommittal shrug or, "oh why, yes it is." Instead, he found anxiety blooming in his heart, the roots taking a hold of his soul and choking him. What was it that everyone seemed to see in this world that he didn't? Was he blind? What was he missing? When he looked down at Ice again, his eyes were clouded with worry and his voice was distraught, "But... but I can't see anything."

(This post was last modified: Feb 23, 2013, 02:59 AM by Datura.)

sorrysorrysorrysorry. <3
and, omg, Datura <33333333

watched it pour as I touched your face

i set fire to the rain

cause I heard it screaming out your name

There was nothing about the boy to speak of his blood — nothing of tall, lanky Rhysis, nothing of Naira's plain shade, but definitely her size. But so what? Ice was large, too, and the boy on the rocks was far too golden to make his mind stray to old enemies, for these days he spent little time thinking of them. They were not worthy of constant thought, no threat as they lingered somewhere far away, less dangerous than the crazed beasts who dwelt on the Serpent's other side. Standing upon the plateau, the world slowly coming to life as the first too-bright line of the sun's disc crossed the horizon, he felt strangely empty and content of mind. Something about the simple beauty of his immediate surroundings forced even the darkness of Aniwaya away, stole the breath from his lungs and the blood from his veins. And so, he could not quite understand why Datura looked over his shoulder, or why he seemed vaguely troubled by Ice's explanation. Shading his silver eyes with his 'brows he peered up at the lonely figure, but the back-lightning cast too much of his face into shadow.

And so, the River wolf waited instead. There was little point in looking upon Datura, except to smile at his halo of light every so often, and his gaze lingered instead upon the sky. An early bird crossed it on silent wings, disappearing among the dark rocks, and Ice stared after where it had gone until the boy's voice brought him back. He blinked in the early morning sunlight, the cold air frosting around his muzzle, and peered up at the golden boy again. He couldn't see it? Ice's ears fell back for a moment, as something about the whole thing seemed infinitely sad to him, and sought for words, but what could he say? How could he describe how breathtaking the shimmer of snow, like stardust upon the ground, was? How could he describe the colors of the sky without making them seem dull and lifeless? How could he explain the sound of silence, the beat of a heart, life?

"Are you sure?" he finally replied after a moment, his large paws moving to carry him elegantly upon the hard, crisp crust. He left prints, shadowed dents, where he had stepped, and broke through only a few times — it surprised him, as he normally waded through places like these, but perhaps the glare of the sun melted it each day and then it froze solid by night? If so, he certainly appreciated it, and halted when he stood more or less directly below Datura's golden frame. The restless air still kept his scent away, distance keeping him safe — for now. "I.. I don't know if I can explain it," he spoke up to the figure, his quiet voice regretful. "But.. I think it is beautiful, the way the light strikes the snow." As the sun slowly began its ascent through the sky the ground grew brighter, and the shadows less blue, and Ice's gaze dropped from the wolf's lofty perch back to the sparkling ground. How could he not see it?

template base by GINNYSAURUS | image by GREY

let the stars above shine in your soul

some things are made from better stuff

• DATURA AQUILA •

this gift is waiting to be found

The gilded boy had such a talent for seeing deficiency in others, for picking them apart and pointing out every where they went wrong. He might not have been very bright, but he was very gifted when it came to categorizing things. There was sameness and then there was otherness. Sameness was good. Otherness was bad, evil, and Datura was very good at picking up on this otherness in those around him. His late sister had been his playground, a bed of flowers he had systematically uprooted and attempted to re-pot again and again.

This was the first time he had been brought to notice a deficiency in his own self.

That was not to say that these feelings of desperate frustration and a need to belong were new to him. They had been there all along, churning in his stomach as he picked apart his world and separated it into two categories. This was, however, the first time these feelings had been given a name and dragged out into the open. He could not ignore them now. He could not ignore her question that still rang in his ears, all these months later.

"Can't you see it?" she had said.

"Are you sure?" was the question he was asked now.

Tears welled up in his eyes suddenly as the the past and the present overlapped. Cant see WHAT? Am I sure of WHAT? he screamed inside the cavern of his mind. What was it that they all had in common, what was this world that they all shared amongst themselves and refused to share with him? Violently, he tossed his head about as if he could shake of the weight of reality pressing down upon him from two different directions, hoping that the stranger could lift this burden from him. The frosted stranger admitted that he couldn't really explain it. Couldn't... or wouldn't? An angry sob wracked the small golden boy. Why did they all keep these secrets from him? What had he done wrong? He had only ever tried to help... only ever wanted to be included, to be loved...

""But.. I think it is beautiful, the way the light strikes the snow."

Frantically, the boy followed the man's gaze as he looked down at the sparkling snow. The hot tears that streamed down his cheeks blurred the world in front of his eyes, but even if he could have seen the snow clearly he would have missed the iridescent radiance of shimmering snow. What was beauty? He had heard them talk about it before, it had been a special place in his sister's world. But always it was about this world around them, this frightening, terrible world of wind and rain that was always so cold and dark. He shook his head again, taking a step back from the ledge so that the stranger could not see him crying, though there wasn't much of a point: you could still hear it in his voice. "I'm... I'm s-s-sorry ... sir... I just. I can't see it."

template base by GINNYSAURUS | image by GREY

Ice doesn't like being gray. :<

you do not know who is your friend or who is your enemy until the ICE breaks. The world smelled of salt. Or, not really, but after his words, after his eyes sought the golden sun-halo boy again, one of his ears gave a twitch.. and his nose gave a twitch.. the pungent aroma of salt blocking out his pack scent for a moment, the wind still blowing Ice to Datura, and not Datura to Ice, but his nose picked out the curiosity.. reinforced by his fuzzy ears picking up the sound of a sob. What had happened? Had he hurt himself up on the rocks? Or had Ice said something? Frantically, the River wolf scrabbled back through the minutes, trying to figure out if he'd said something wrong, but all he'd done was.. talk of beauty. Was that wrong? Why was he crying up there? Ice's eyes had dropped again, to the shimmering snow, but then he looked up the dark cliff again and saw that the boy had retreated a step, but his voice carried with ease anyway. "I'm... I'm s-s-sorry ... sir... I just. I can't see it." Alarmed, Ice realized that the boy was actually crying. He was crying, and by the sound of it, it was Ice's fault for speaking of beauty. It didn't make him feel good. "It - it's alright!" he called up, frowning, shading his eyes from the rising sun with his thick, white brows. What was he going to do now? None of the River cubs had ever started crying, even if Fenru had curled up in a silent, angst ball. Aiyana didn't cry about Rissa, she just walked around like a zombie. So why was this boy crying and what did you do with a crying wolf? Beat them up? Nuzzle them comfortingly? Walk away? Distressed and ashamed, his eyes flicked to he golden outline of the boy's shoulders, visible above the ledge despite his hidden face. "What.. what do you think is beautiful?" he asked, trying to steer the conversation someplace safer, someplace where Datura wouldn't feel so.. failed? What did he feel? Sad, that he couldn't see it? Why had he burst into tears just like that? Feeling like he just wanted to flail and bash his head against a rock Ice kept peering up, waiting for an answer. .ice aesir

let the stars above shine in your soul

LOLice.
he's such a noob at child-rearing. :P
he's in for a rude awakening when the kids are born

eyes closed tight

• DATURA AQUILA •

throwing punch after punch at the world

He realized that he was crying only a moment too late, and he cursed his body for betraying him like this to a stranger. How pitiful, how weak he must look to this winsome stranger who couldn't have had any idea of the can of worms he had opened. And he even inquired after his well being, would you look at that. Datura fought hard to get a grip on himself and swallowed one last wretched sob. He made no further moves towards the overhang, though. He was indecent still and would not have this stranger look upon his tear stained cheeks and distraught face.

"I'm fine!" he shouted, perhaps a little too loudly, a little too harshly. Datura didn't really mean to put this man off so suddenly and drive him away, but the war he was waging against his own emotions spilled, unwanted, into his voice. Master yourself! Deep breaths, deep breaths. Datura had never found himself in a situation where he would have needed to use such a banal relaxation technique, but now he felt that surely there had never been a better time. It was either breath or insult the guest. "I mean," he said again, his voice growing sturdier, like a little newborn giraffe standing up for the first time, wobbling slightly but somehow remaining upright, "I'm, yes, I'm alright. Thank you, but your concern is quite unnecessary."

And suddenly he really was alright.

"What.. what do you think is beautiful?"

If this talk was supposed to make him feel better, then it wasn't working. Datura felt another frustrated sob crawling up his throat again. He steeled himself. "Nothing!" he quipped lightly, "Nothing is beautiful to me. My... my sister.." And suddenly he was losing it again, and a real whine, and a real sob, much stronger than the first wave, was ripped lose from his heart. His words came out in a tumultuous heap, "My sister was the one who told me what was pretty and what wasn't pretty... and with out her... without her I just don't know! I DON'T KNOW! I'm lost... She... she's supposed to be here to tell me... to show me." His head hung, Datura coughed and hacked, gagging, trying to find air that he could breath, something he could hold onto. But there was nothing. He was lost and drowning in this stupid sparkling world of rainbow snow in front of his eyes and not an inch of it was pretty to him.

template base by GINNYSAURUS | image by GREY

(This post was last modified: Apr 06, 2013, 08:24 PM by Datura.)

Definitely. :P

you do not know who is your friend or who is your enemy until the ICE breaks. "I'm fine!" the boy shouted, his voice echoing around the abandoned plateau. Ice's ears fell back for a moment, pressing against the soft fur at the back of his head. Clearly, Datura didn't want him to know that he was crying, but it was too late for that. Some part of him resisted the urge to point out that it was obvious he wasn't fine, because he was crying, but he bit the words back. He assumed the mountain boy wouldn't enjoy being lectured about all those silly things, such as not lying even to hide something you were loathe for someone else to find out. Ice had learned he was the only one who cared about that kind of stuff, and even so, living in a pack was wearing it down to the point where he actually understood what others meant, or simply couldn't be bothered to lecture them. And so, Ice merely waited for him to compose himself, which he did, sounding quite formal as if to drive it home that he really was alright. But, that wasn't a complete truth either, because the next thing that flew out of the white man's mouth had the golden one crumbling again. Ice actually snapped his mouth shut, teeth clicking against each other before grinding together. The feeling reverberated through his skull and as Datura kept shouting, words a jumbled mess, Ice sat down on the snow, tilted his head back, and peered up towards the overhang. He had a feeling that if he wanted to solve this, he'd be here a long time, and something in him rebelled against the idea of just walking off and leaving the golden boy crying. It was, after all, Ice's fault that he was crying in the first place. He assumed talking about the missing sister might cause pain, too, but at the same time, maybe it was an easier subject than the lack of beauty in the world. Ice found in somewhat strange that he could not appreciate the simple beauty of a sunrise, the glory of the light refracting in a thousand, tiny crystals, the cool touch of a breeze on a hot day, the patchwork of shadow and light dappling a tinkling river... "Where is your sister?" Despite the fact that he had to raise his voice slightly to make sure it carried, his words - and eyes - were soft. .ice aesir

let the stars above shine in your soul

finally made my 70th post, thought that would never come xD
btw i'm going to pull datura out here, you can post once more if you want or you can archive it, your call.
also omfg i discovered datura gets off to whiney boy bands... oh dear this is terrible xD

nothing's going to change the things that you said

• DATURA AQUILA •

nothing's going to make this right again

"Where is your sister?"

"I don't — I don't know!" Was the only response he could give at first. He had no idea where she was anymore. He would have been lying if he still thought she was hanging around Lost Lake. Midnight Plateau's den was so far south that he had actually been forced to pass by all of his old haunts, and her scent was gone. She was gone. Part of him had always secretly hoped that if she was going to leave Poison Path she would have chosen to come back to him, to live with him and Adonis in Nomad's Pass so they could be a whole family again. But she hadn't. She had just fucking up and left for who knows where! She had abandoned him once and for all. "It... It doesn't matter!" he shouted suddenly, panting heavily. His rage was palpable.

"She's dead to me! She deserted me!" He wasn't addressing the stranger anymore, he was talking to someone else who wasn't there. It was like he was screaming at the universe, furious at the fate that had been handed to him. "I don't have a sister any more!" Datura had said this all before when he had made the first cut that had torn them apart from each other but he had never truly believed it. He had never lived as if she didn't exist. He needed to forget about her, he needed to move on. She wasn't his sister anymore.

A change in the winds suddenly brought the man's scent back to him and Datura remembered where he was and he could not have been more ashamed of himself. He stopped, his mouth hung ajar. Here he was, just sobbing and shouting uncontrollably in front of a man he had only just met. He did not want to be seen like this, not ever, not by anyone. Wordlessly he shook his head at the man. I give up. He couldn't salvage this. He had to go. There could be no goodbye.

But as the golden boy turned and ran away, the morning winds shifted again to carry his scent back to the man he left standing in the brilliant snow.

template base by GINNYSAURUS | image by GREY