Sacred Grove as we know it

weird. rome is weird. lol.

Her bones –there was something terribly wrong with her bones. Staring down at the ridges and fur that represented her front right paw, Romanis allowed herself to believe fully in this horror. After all, there was something wrong with her paw –right? It was just so huge, furry and moving –always moving. Sometimes even when she willed it not to. Perhaps it was possessed then? Perhaps the evilness had crept inside when she wasn’t watching? Or better yet it had been there all along! Yes, that was it, they had slipped it in-between her toes on that same unbearably fateful day and she was only noticing it now. Yes that made perfect sense! Convinced of this and ignorant to all things wiser, Romanis was quick to solve the conundrum of a resolution. Snarling from the pit of herself as she pulled her small head back, it was then with immense force that she set about tearing her flesh apart.

Awakening to the ever distant sound of her ferocious attack, deep pants fell from the gaping blackness of her mouth. Having lifted her head to blink into the surrounding darkness, Romanis was still not entirely free from the effects of her latest reverie. Had it only been a dream? Glancing at her paw in a flickering moment of suspicion, it was with much restraint that Rome forced herself to look away. She needed to clear her head. She needed a distraction.

Tilting dusted ears out and to the side, she could only faintly hear the gurgle and pop of distant waters. In that instant her mouth became sandy and parched, so much so that she fancied the notion of immediate travel. However, her plans were immediately sidelined by a pain –a pain from her paw.

Looking down again –but this time with unglazed eyes- Romanis recognized the crust of dirt and yes even small smatterings of blood. So there was an inflammation at her roots! Leaning her head downwards with tongue extended, the wolf made deep and even somewhat affectionate strokes. For this pain did not bother her as the imagined one had –considering that in this realm she was well aware of the source.

Resting her head down again once she had satisfied the task, it was with a gentle sigh that Rome attempted to settle herself back into sleep. Although this task would be far easier said than done given her prior nightmare. Of course she only hoped that it had nothing to do with her grave top mattress.

(This post was last modified: Nov 30, 2012, 05:02 AM by Romanis.)

The silvery man hated the Grove. Hated it with an intense passion. Only bad could come of treading here. Only bad ever did. It was place that seemed to draw the crazies like no other, and yet, it was to the Grove that his wandering paws dragged him once again. Too close to the River pack to be of comfort, but it wasn’t the scent of a River wolf that pulled at his nose. It was his one weakness of course, a girl. A very young, (which usually meant very suggestible) girl. His curiosity would be the death of him one day, but he couldn’t resist the pull of a young malleable mind. It just wasn’t in his nature to pass up such an opportunity. Honey hued eyes peered through the trees, seeking the owner of such a lonely scent. Only the mild lingering musk of death remained. Possibly an old meal? Surely a loner would not let such a thing go to waste and rot so close to her hungry mouth? It was then, he spotted her, a mix of cremes, greys and blacks. A pretty young thing to be sure. Loneliness radiated from her very core, and where others may have felt pity, the silvered man only saw opportunity. Slinking forwards, cautiously of course, for he was yet to have a pleasant encounter amongst the trees of the Grove, he paused to evaluate the situation. Should he speak, or should he wait? He chose to wait.

code by bryony

(This post was last modified: Dec 28, 2012, 09:04 AM by Valiant.)

It was more than likely that superstition had gotten tangled into Rome’s paranoia somewhere along the way. After all the two were so similar it seemed and moreover the yearling was prone to assuming the worst of mental habits. So it was less than surprising to find her full of fear as she rested atop her former companion’s grave. Of course a logician might wonder why the female couldn’t simply pick another place to sit and rest, but this twisted reason was known only to Romanis. For the Riordae girl was terribly fearful of her own loneliness perhaps more so than she was of ghostly fallacy. So as much as she worried over the implications of her choice bedding, there was next to nothing that she could do about her circumstances.

Twitching her tail from side to side as her mind slowly went blank, it was with a great sense of ease that Romanis allowed the emptying effect to take place. It was much easier to be than it was to think –an idea which the young Riordae had believed true for a length of time now.

Free of meditation and thus her deepest worries, Rome had almost fallen right to sleep with the distance began to crackled with unfamiliar sounds. Well in all fairness they were all foreign given her general newness to the region, but that didn’t stop Romanis from reacting with great concern at ever zip and crack. Someone was approaching. She was almost sure of it.

Lifting her slender muzzle from the support of her forelegs, she preceded the male’s appearance with soft and singly whines. After all, it was Romanis custom to expect and accept the worse well before it had the chance to surprise her.

Although when the wolf finally revealed himself he did not pose the most obvious of threats. Plain of face but otherwise completely usual, it was nevertheless with a grain of nerves that Romanis kept her paranoid wits well about her. Furrowing her vanilla brow as the wolf simply stood there, it was after an instant of blank conscious that she suddenly sprung her first idea. Perhaps he was here to pay his respects? Tilting her head now as she gradually acknowledged this as the case, it was with great reverence in mind that the Riordae slowly raised from her bizarre resting place.

Stepping to the side so that she might make way for the mourner, Rome still spoke not a single word. After all, what business was it of her’s should this stranger see fit to grieve the rotting Desra Tantamount.

Anxious noises escaped the throat of the girl who lay atop the mound. Realisation dawned then. If she had cared enough to bury it then it must hold some place of sentiment to her... unless she simply wished to hide it from the scavengers? But no, it was roughly the size of a wolf, and so he could only assume it was a dead lover, relative or friend. She seemed to be waiting for something, stepping aside with simple grace. Was this a game he had played before? No, he was not usually a funeral crasher, but those in mourning often sought the comfort of others. She was a bit young yet, but he could be her other... For the simple fact was, Valiant too, hated to be alone for long. He had found a pack in Grizzly Hollow that did not feel the need to constrain him with their rules and border limits. He was free to come and go as he pleased. But what he lacked, was a companion for his long jaunts to tame his itching feet. Perhaps... Moving forward slowly, respectfully. He stopped at the edge of the grave, his paws not touching the mound for the fear the dead would rise to drag him down with them, a fear once instilled as a cub by a superstitious grandmother... He took a moment to dip his head, eyes closed in what he hoped would appear to be reverence to the girl observing so intently, so close by. No silent prayer was sent forth for the deceased, female? He thought he caught a whiff amongst the rot still laced to the young wolf’s fur. It was winter. Winter was harsh, wolves and animals alike, not strong enough to survive were committed to the frozen earth with the same regard as the leavings of deer in his experience. This, this was something odd to him, but he would not look down upon her for it. “Was she in pain?” the simple words slipped forth smoothly, his gravelly tone managing to catch on the she. The boy was an actor and while it had been a while since he had played concern, the role was still fresh in his mind, as practiced as all the rest. The poor mourning girl would struggle to tell that his concern was laced with more selfish intent.

code by bryony

(This post was last modified: Dec 28, 2012, 09:04 AM by Valiant.)

Romanis was helpless but to wonder about the male’s intentions and actual relation to the belated Desra Tantamount. Would he weep endlessly or replace her as headstone to the mound? Was he her son or perhaps some long forgotten lover? Wondering was fun in a morbid sort of way that made Romanis genuinely happy within herself. Often times she had tried to figure what would become of her own body and spirit should she die out in the wilds of the earth. Would there be a single soul who cared enough to eulogize her, or would she simply be left for the carnivorous degenerates of the world.

It was a thought that made Rome feel cold which is why she ended it. Far too often she found herself chilled and depressed by the basic details of her living, but now was certainly not the time for such selfish pity. Not when she was faced with the unknown needs of the masculine mourner before her.

Flickering her lantern eyes over the length of his form, she found herself jealous of his good shape and health. After all, the life of a learner was hard to live and only more so when one suffered from mental ills as the young Riordae did.

However, there was more to be seen of the male than a sharp face and clean physique. He was doing something upon the end of Desra’s grave. Holding her silence without any trouble at all, Rome simply widened her eyes as the male bowed and remained in such a position for the length of a mighty long second. Was he praying? She imagined as much and for this she was secretly happy. Content to know that at least Desra had made some sort of an impression in life.

Yet just when Rome was about to resume her assumptive wondering, the male killed their silence with simple but exact words –a question even. Tilting her slender head to the side, Rome looked down for a second before gathering her thoughts. Speech had always been a difficult thing for her what with her feral nature and all. It wasn’t as if she could just prattle on and on without reason. She liked to know exactly what she was going to say along with exactly why.

Maintaining her wordlessness for these reasons, it was after a long and arguably unnatural pause that she finally looked up again. Pulling back her ears as her lower jaw hung open, it was with a voice whispered by ill use that she finally answered. “I d-d-don’t know, I j-j-just came b-back and sh-she was…g-gone,” a pause, “h-how d-did you know h-her?”

(This post was last modified: Dec 13, 2012, 12:56 AM by Romanis.)

He waited patiently for the words to come. Unpracticed as they clearly were, internally he smiled, almost awash with relief that he struggled to contain a sigh of content, his mask slipping for the slightest moment to show his relief clearly through, it could have easily been mistaken as relief that at least the strangers death had been quick. He hoped that was how she would take it. Perhaps he was out of practice. He had worked on a hopeless talker before, forever prattling on and on and on. If she was not so verbally talented, he would take it as a blessing. So it was the cold then. A slow nod rocked his head up and down for a moment, lacking the ferocity to mimic a dashboard bobble-head, but clearly enough to convey his understanding. “If it was simply the cold, then it would have been painless.” He muttered solemnly, eyes running the length of the grave to land on the girl who had asked such an open question. Naive creature she was. So young, so broken. So lonely. “I never like to stay in one place too long. Our paths have crossed... before.” he left the timing open, content that the vagueness of his answer would be enough for the girl-child who struggled so with words. If he spoke enough, perhaps she would simply be content to accept it? Perhaps if he distracted her with a question, she would focus instead on finding the words to answer him, than picking apart his answer to search for clues. “I hadn’t seen her for a while.” he continued quietly, solemnly. He rose again then, gently moving closer to the bereaved youth. “Had you been traveling together long? She never mentioned such a darling companion...” He offered a harmless smile to the girl, his tone conversational, harmless. Stopping far enough away that he would not be a threat he seated himself again to stare at the mound of dirt, leaving the invitation open should she wish to come closer.

code by bryony

(This post was last modified: Dec 28, 2012, 09:04 AM by Valiant.)

On many a day Romanis had contemplated speaking. Less often she imagined directing her words to an actual someone, but in moments of lonely quiet she would fantasize about her sound and pronunciation worryingly. Had her voice risen or deepened with puberty? Would there be any likeness to either of her parents? Would she like the noises that she made –consider them wonderfully lovely even? Of course there was always some louder inner voice which kept her hushed and all the more quietly wondering, but it was all bizarre to think of now considering howreadily she had opened up for the stranger male.

Swallowing the largely invisible lump in her throat both in reverence to this thought and in the mild pain of her exertion, it was within the break between either of them talking that Rome tried to grasp the nature of her birthed voice. Why in the world had she sounded so deep –and soft? Hadn’t she been somewhat high and brash as a child? Was it only a symptom of her misuse or was this indeed the real deal of her vocal identity? It was likely that the stranger could never imagine such intricate and necessary thoughts going on between Rome’s twittering ears but that was quite alright with her. For as much as she longed for the general company of another, Romanis deeply loathed the sharing aspect of being social.

Turning her ears back forwards as the male abruptly lured her attention. Between her ears she thought abruptly –oh what’s he doing now- or something along the lines. Not necessarily in an irritated tone but rather that of a child overstimulated by too many colors and sounds all at once –heavens knew Desra Tantamount had never done a single thing in haste or style.

However, the next thing to peak within the young Riordae was decidedly sardonic in nature. After all, how could the male know anything about death? Had he somehow suffered its means in a prior life? Spoken to a victim post mortem? Or better yet was he just being pretentious? This was the sort of fluff that made Romanis scowl at the likeness of community. Even so simple a lie turned her stomach raw. Why? Because she had suffered lived without them for so long –out in the real ugly truth sort of world known as bare stark loneliness. That was the hell why!

Unable to shade the reality of her emotions, a few wrinkles could be seen at the edge of her nose. Yet, it was worth noting that she wouldn’t chase the male off so soon. No instead she was just warning him that he was toeing the line that was the double blurred zigzag of her moral divide.

Almost missing his next few statements in her mood of crossness, it was with bipolar similarity that she realized them only two steps later. So he had known Desra –as she had suspected. Good then, the old coot had done at the very least one thing right in the world. Or…was that bad? Perhaps a bar set one rung too high for her protégé? It was a melancholy thought worthy of dark laughter but for some reason Rome didn’t feel like smirking. More than likely it had something to do with her previous grey thoughts about her own end and blah, blah, blah. Yes it was possible for the wolf to become bored with her own morose from time to time which is why she decided to keep attuned with the fanciful male and his many gesticulations.

Her face now flat again Rome turned the whole thing sideways as she male goaded her to offer more words. Could she? Should she? That first birth had felt like embers and she hadn’t really been totally in love with the produced sound. Still he was speaking to her which was something –a big something in her crank little world. Slowly bringing her head back to center and releasing a tiny huff of a breath she tried again, “n-no.” The stuttering, oh she would have to do something about that soon if anyone was to hear from her ever again for any nameable reason! “I m-mean –no.” –there that was better...in a way.

“W-we m-met up about t-two m-months ago. Sh-she was alone a-and I w-was alone s-so,” well you get the rest. “…b-but I d-doubt she c-considered me d-darling c-company. W-we b-barely sp-spoke.” Perchance the male would take a stabbing wonder at why? “Th-then again sh-she n-never m-mentioned you either –what’s y-your n-name?” Then again Desra hadn’t mentioned much of anything beyond north, food and water. Moreover Romanis had never accumulated an interest in her partner’s backstory to bother asking. So why assume the bother now? Well because the male had only half way pissed her off thus far and in the world of Romanis Riordae that was something of a record.

(This post was last modified: Dec 13, 2012, 01:44 AM by Romanis.)

Something he said seemed to upset the young girl, though she hardly seemed intent on chasing him off for it. Still, he warily watched her from the corner of his eye, he had experienced more than enough feminine changes of mood to last him a lifetime, and experience had taught him it was far better to be cautious than to disregard such small signs of warning. She stumbled on her words, it could be seen to be endearing perhaps, were not the silvery wolf so heartless. He pretended to ignore the way she stuttered, focusing more on her twitchy body language than the noises that tumbled from her mouth, although her voice was pleasing. Soft, feminine. He always like the sounds females made, whether they made sense to his simple mind or not. Her admission that they barely spoke hardly surprised the silvery brute, drawing words from the small girl was almost as easy as drawing water from a stone. But it worked well in his favour, after all, he wasn’t exactly being truthful with the youngling. A steady smile stayed on his face, is posture as relaxed as could be. He had no intentions of harming the girl, and hoped she wished him the same. When she asked his name, his smooth rich voice slid forth casually. “Valiant.” he paused for a moment to let the name sink in before continuing just as smoothly, “And by what do I call such a pretty young flower as yourself?” There was a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Barely detectable. It was time to try and drag the conversation away from the morose. After all, she couldn’t just sit atop the grave forever now, could she?

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Valiant –now that was a presumptuous name? Lifting her furred brow in an amused sort of way, Rome wondered in quiet just how well the stranger stacked up to his name. Thus far, he had done well as her company –polite, stylish and even somewhat sentimental. However, first impressions were only the beginning and it was in this respect that Rome would remind herself to keep a tally.

Oh –but what for?

Was it possible that she had really been charmed so simply…so willingly? Heaven knew that she had overlooked countless other wolves in her travels –folks who would have been or at least could have been wonderful to spend time with and yet she had flitted past them all and often with a snarl. So what made this male so straight away different? She wasn’t sure but then again she wasn’t really looking to argue with the fact either. It just felt nice to be within the presence of another and all the more conversing.

Lowering her hind end to the ground as she approached the topic of his question. It was again with a clearing of the throat that Rome entered a phase of somewhat difficult speech. “M-my n-name is R-Romanis R-Riordae,” yet another refreshing memory. It had been ages since Rome had heard her very own name alive and well in the world. It was…nice.

Further lightened by this most recent development, the young wolf dared to wave her tail. Softly and only against the ground in a few slow lashes, it was to this beat that the yearling delivered her next slow question. “Y-You a-are f-from a n-nearby p-pack V-Valiant?” Maybe she was getting ahead of herself in the motivations for her thinking and questioning but –a girl could always dream.

Perhaps it had been irony his parents were aiming for naming him such, perhaps they simply had higher hopes for him than he had for himself. Either way, anyone who hoped he would live up to his name was often left in the dust as he fled the scene after another daughter was left broken hearted by his charms, another female left carrying his young. an outcast in her own pack. Alone. She seemed to be settling and so he dropped his weary eye, no longer worried about her lashing out at him just yet, her waving tail, as with all wolves, a clean indicator of her mood. Mocha tinted ears swiveled towards her as she came up with a question of her own. He was impressed, and concerned all at the same time, hoping desperately that she wouldn’t suddenly morph into a prolific speaker as Hawke had been. His head began to twinge with the possibility. But she stopped shortly after she had started, waiting for an answer. She would do well in the Hollow, with someone as kind as Jayse to look after her. The two small females would take her in without a second thought... but if all went to plan, he wouldn’t be there much longer. A short nod answered her question at first, before he went on to explain. “A day to the west of here, among the Cedar trees.” He took a moment to allow the directions to sink in, should she ever chose to try and seek him out after this encounter. “But not for long. There is a new pack forming, an old friend of mine will be leading it...” just as soon as I find the cracked bastard. he added to himself. “I imagine they will head east... maybe even take back their pack on the mountain. Drive the others out.” it was with an absent shrug that he finished. Perhaps the information would pique her interest. It would be good for the crazy woman that would be leading to have some more females in the pack. It would be good for all of them.

code by bryony