Ghastly Woods verbum sapienti

March 4th; Sunrise; Partly Cloudy; 25° F/-4° C

Since the discovery of the diseased coyote and the pack meeting, Mapplethorpe had been keeping himself very, very busy. Having anticipated the youths of the pack being overcome with hormones and varying degrees of lust and salaciousness, the old man kept watch over the Nomads from a distance. When the young princes slipped out of the corner of his eye, he made certain measures to ensure that they both returned at the time they were expected. When Naira retreated to her lair, he went out of his way to make sure a small token - a bit of rabbit leg, a fragment of antler, or a small rodent - was left at the entrance whenever it seemed she might have needed a pair of ears to listen. When Rhysis went off on his own, Mapplethorpe took care to continue on his way in the opposite direction.

In trying to steer clear of whatever the day might have held for the monarchs and the pack, he climbed down from the Pass and followed a week-old trail to the place where he had first met Sagacity. A stringy rabbit hung loosely from his jaws, proof that he had been quite occupied already a few hours ago at daybreak. Instead of hanging about the place where the coyote corpse had been (he assumed some sort of twisted soul had taken it further into the forest for safekeeping) and opting to hide his prize nearby, he meandered about the base of the mountain, listening idly to the sound of the woods and its inhabitants. With Spring on the way, it wasn't unusual that the birds above had started to sing more and more tunes or that the distinct scent of hare now littered the forest floor in more places than it had the month before.

Vivid yellow eyes scanned the roots of the trees, half-defrosted and still blanketed with snow. If only he could find a good spot for this excuse for a meal, let alone a quick snack. He had made quick work of the leporid's innards and he hoped that the intact skeleton could be put to use at a later date when the sinew aged and hardened into something akin to jerky. Wandering wolves, he knew, though, were usually desperate to get their jaws on anything they could properly stomach; at least his leftovers would do little more than temporarily placate hunger pangs.

Coming to a halt inside a ring of trees where the sun barely filtered through, Mapplethorpe stopped to take in his surroundings. He could have sworn the birds had stopped chirping but a cheerful warbler was quick to assure him nothing bizarre had caught him unawares. He huffed and shook his head, walking onward until he found a suitable place: where two low-lying shrubs had merged together above the ground, a narrow depression was visible, and it was no doubt a perfect fit for the remainder of his meal. Placing his kill aside, he willed his creaky elbows to work and his back to maintain his angled position. Bit by bit, clods of earth were pushed aside and soon enough the copper-dusted man had fashioned an ideal cache.

(This post was last modified: Mar 08, 2013, 12:10 AM by Mapplethorpe.)

Much like every family had a black sheep, every territory had a blemish, and Ava would not deny that the Ghastly Woods were the mistake of the Lore. She'd never liked the place from the beginning. It was frightening the way the trees entangled with one another, from their roots to their branches they created a world of darkness with little room for escape. Every moment it seemed a root would be out to trip her paw or a thorn from dead brush scratching against her side. Even a coating of snow could not do anything to make the place more likable. It reflected what bare sunlight could make it through the skeleton canopy with a most pathetic effort; in fact, Ava almost thought the addition of snow darkened the already shadowy surroundings. Sure, Ava heard the birds on occasion or caught scent of a fox or hare, but never had she actually seen one. The only reasonable explanation for such a phenomenon was that the creepy forest was haunted and she wanted absolutely nothing to do with it so - where was the exit?

In truth the black she-wolf could not figure out how she had become trapped in the snare, but she was well on her way out when a curiosity happened upon her eye. A flash of tawny fur appeared among the shadows of the horizon, patterned with black and silver and above all, familiarity. Ava trusted none of what the Ghastly Woods had to offer and was quick to write off the vision as a trick of her already frightened mind, but the farce went deeper. A sniff of the air provided something new - among Rhysis, the mountain and a mixture of other wolfish smells Ava could swear there was something like Naira's scent on the wind. Her brow furrowed with instant confusion, not only from the thought that Naira might be nearby, but also because even after several months she felt the tug to follow, to look out for a Queen who'd never been anything but good to her.

Without questioning her legs began to move, a forward motion so easily set in to. Some part of her was still coded to follow Poison even when it was no longer there, so Ava did not resist the autopilot. After all, she was indeed curious as it what had become of the she-wolf after the crown was lost and she herself had stolen south into the night. She had seen Rhysis, and Athena as well - now she was on the trail of a missing puzzle piece. Her dark paws took the distance quickly, fiery gaze flickering from spot to spot in front of her and careful so as to not fall over a rock or fallen branch or heaven forbid, herself. Suddenly she could see her again, a golden tail disappearing into a circle of trees. Determination set in her bones and she pushed silently to the edge of the treeline, peering cautiously around the barren trunks to lay eyes upon...

Finally close enough Ava understood that it was not Naira whose path she had been following. At once the black-cloaked female shrank backwards, ankles shackled by a hesitation that resounded in her wide stare. The smell of the honey-eyed female was in the air, certainly, but overpowered by that of this wolf - whoever he was - digging in the ground. If there was anything she had learned about mountain wolves it was that they were all damn crazy in some way or another - herself included for whatever time she'd spent prancing around stone fixtures and thinking herself bold. Up above it was easy to think you could see everything - but the details in the fabric were lost from so far away. Or at least, so she believed. Either way it had put a distrust in her about those wolves who found a home in stone dens - yet for the fear that clutched at her heart she could not make herself tear away from the scene, yet. After all, his coat bore a scent her's once had. Perhaps this wolf could prove of some value, some indication as to Naira's present and future.

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The masked man had just about finished his work when he felt a pair of eyes zeroed in at his turned back. His own gaze stared at the two hedges before him, his soiled paws still as they laid in the pit they had made. He blinked and the ears on either side of his head rose up. Even breaths made his ribcage expand and contract as he seated himself; he waited for the stranger, whose scent just reached his senses, to make a move. The ragged tail behind him lowered to the ground from its previous position, being nearly parallel to his spine.

He took a deep breath and still, it seemed, she did nothing.

Mapplethorpe sniffed. "It isn't polite to stare," he drawled, quickly standing to round on the trees behind him in search of her face. It had taken only a glimpse but the sight of her wide, golden eyes easily gave away her position. With a back paw, he kicked the skeleton into the open cache behind him and canted his head to one side. He squared bony shoulders but any other form of defensiveness did not appear on his husky frame. He merely demanded a reaction out of her. The numerous scents on her pelt warned him to be wary, that she belonged not to just someone but a number of identities... A pack just as large as his.

"I am a very busy man, madame" he divulged sharply. "If you want something of me, at least have the decency to speak." His lips peeled back and his muzzle wrinkled, a sudden flash of his teeth suggesting that he did not have time for games. "Or if you had wanted my kill... You probably should've have taken it while my back was turned."

(This post was last modified: Mar 08, 2013, 12:36 AM by Mapplethorpe.)

Still as the grave she watched the figure's motions, attempting to determine if he'd figured her location or not. For a moment she was certain he'd heard a twig snap or something else trivial among the dark and twisted branches that surrounded them, but at that second he inhaled and rounded on the treeline that protected her. It took him no more than an instant to find her, so she took no less time to inch her way out of the shadows - but barely.

"Forgive me. I didn't mean to be rude," she quipped back quickly, dulcet tones laced with a satin kindness. Ava had little information yet to determine how to best present herself so she refrained from any direct expression, but it never hurt to play a safe darling, did it? "But if I had wanted something of you, I would have been forward." False, of course, but he could not know that, and Ava figured it was better to project oneself with confidence than not. Salmon-colored tongue snaked across her ebon lips as she assesed the situation with haste. The wolf was perhaps past his prime, but certainly not lacking in gall, and drawing once more on her mountain-wolves-are-crazy theory she quickly placed that he need not be underestimated.

His clipped words paired with the flash of pointed teeth gave Ava both a hint of irritation and worse, a glimpse of a threat. Subconciously she rose her chin, vibrant stare laying flat upon the male. She did not intend to challenge him - she'd finally found a home with her most beloved and returning injured so soon after joining their ranks did little to further her position among the wolves of the Cedarwood forest. And yet she could not stop the strength with which her heart beat - uncertain as she always was, Ava did not tolerate a condescending direction.

So, ever simply, she took an easy step forward. Her tail hung motionless behind her, spine relaxed and gaze calm but alert. "I am only curious as to why a mountain wolf would come down and so deep into these, pardon, incredibly creepy woods to hide nothing more than a hare. The trip up and down the stone path can be perilous. Was it worth it?" A limp smile eased its way on to her muzzle. Perhaps the wolf would become suspicious of her; it was the most likely route. But perhaps he'd offer anything - even a crude snippet of information - to serve as a foot in the door. After all, there were two tawny wolves on her mind... one just happened to be directly before her and undiscovered.

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If she hadn't spoken Mapplethorpe would have let loose a wild growl from his throat but she quickly apologized and for the time being he seemed to become tame again. At least he knew now that if she had certainly pined for something to fill her stomach, she would have played the thief and snatched the gutless rabbit from his side. He could admire that, but still his hard eyes stared her down. Wordlessly they continued to demand, What do you want? Upon a rather critical observation, what he could see of her shadowy frame seemed healthy, and it was apparent that she was well looked after. Traces of a sweet-smelling aroma clung to her pelt, but his mature body, hardened from years of solitude and buffered by his still-standing loyalty to his beloved queen, did not react.

Her chin rose up and he merely drew back in turn, his body straightening from its defensive stance. But even as she came forward, he stood his ground, shoulders and neck leaning back just slightly as though she had trespassed into his personal space. No signs or sounds of disapproval came, however, and his eyes flickered to where the rabbit had laid before returning to her face. She seemed calm, and he tried to do the same. Though, the depths of his dilated pupils suggested otherwise.

Attentive ears and an open mind absorbed and comprehended her inquisitiveness, even processed her sharp remark with a dark smile. "Every. Single. Step," he answered, slowly articulating every syllable. "One never knows when hunger will strike..." The grin suddenly edged away and his eyes slightly narrowed. He might have been advanced in his years or no longer the spry boy he had been in his prime, but he would not allow anyone to assume that he was a stone's throw away from death's door.

He scoffed, growing more and more uncertain about her the longer he lingered about why she had been curious about his venture here, "What is it that you want if you've no appetite for leftover hare?"

Wary of the stone-dweller, Ava was quick to notice his reactions and respond accordingly. He edged away at her approach, however small he had done so, and she stopped immediately - there were risks the black-pelted female would take, and this was not one of them. Her dark legs took root in the frost-coated circle and for a quiet moment her stare broke from the mottled-hued man to scan the surroundings, noting possible routes of escape and haunted dead-ends alike. The stranger seemed easy, not restless or prone to strike, but it was her own paranoia that kept her from cracking a crooked grin and speaking without caution. Well, mostly. The yellow-gold depths of his eyes, what little she could see of them, reflected a distrust she did not desire to further.

A delicate hmm was all she would offer in return to his staccato response, resisting the urge to flick her ears as though his dark response had caused her a physical discomfort. After an uncertain moment she sunk to her haunches, taking a rather graceless posture as she seated herself. Weight leaned into one foreleg, she looked askew, casual, or at least that was her intention. Ava quickly made herself comfortable before setting her gaze back on the Naira-marked male, taking no offense to his scoff but pursing her lips regardless.

She began, "Sir, I do not know you. I haven't seen you before now. And I'm sure you do not know who I am, either, to suggest that such a behavior is commonplace of me. So why is it you're so certain I want anything of you?" The words were potent, but her tone was delicate - she did not mean it as an insult, or provocatively in any way. It was a simple question, but it was always the simple questions that caused trouble. Even as her posture slipped into laziness her eyes remained watchful for the moment his patience ran out. It wasn't that she had some puppy-like instinct to bother him to fulfill some sort of empty amusement. Now she was simply interested in what he had to say, for he sure projected a shifty sort of character, all alone in the dark woods burying half a rabbit. It was impolite to assume, and so she had no choice but to observe, so long as he let her.

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She sat down. Uh oh... His facial expression might have softened but his head tilted again to one side. Suspicion seemed to rise from him like a mirage over an arid desert. He took one step back, his left hind leg shifting rearward as his right forepaw lifted then settled somewhere diagonally from his left. The simple movement reminded him that he was not obligated to stay... He was nowhere near the pass or the borders he routinely marked; and, he could retreat at any given time.

The woman continued to remark that he did not know her and that he had never met or heard of her until this very moment. He blinked slowly as if her words were putting him to sleep. His bottlebrush tail twitched. "Because you're here," he retorted. "Usually rogues run off, thinking they'd rather avoid a fight, but you..." He eyed her up again, a hint of his smirk returning to his silvered muzzle. "You belong to someone..."

A click of his tongue suggested he wasn't finished, and after a slight pause, he proceeded, "Whether or not your pack sent you doesn't matter, but you are here... and everything I can read off of your pitch black coat says you're interested in something." . Then, all too soon it dawned on him. She might not have expressed an interest in him, but who he might have been (which explains her drawing closer in the first place) or who he was affiliated with. Having been occupied in making the Pass his home after being a wanderer for so many years, he sometimes forgot who and what he now represented when he was out on his own.

"Let me guess," he mused, slowly seating himself in front of the two overlooked shrubs and his unfinished task. "I remind you of someone else? Someone, maybe, once you knew?"

Amber eyes narrowed as they followed his movements backward. He was far more defensive than any lone wolf Ava had ever come across, much less the pack wolves she'd met, although in fairness the loners that roamed the Lore seemed to all have been sprouted from the same friendly seed. Either way whatever tiny window for information she had seen in him was growing ever smaller, although he did find it in him to humor her with a surprisingly honest response. However slippery the male's tongue was, Ava could at least grasp the logic beyond his riddle-like speech, so long as she did not get distracted by his frequent change in expression.

You belong to someone. Her mind flashed to the Cedars, the old Grizzly den hidden beyond a well-marked and guarded border, a gracious white queen with a mis-matched stare and her dark king. She'd almost forgotten what a cornucopia of information she carried with her every step. "Don't we all?" she murmured, slipping the male a crooked smile for consideration. Ava had hardly a second to come up with something witty in response to his claim that she was, for any reason at all, here on the behalf of Grizzly Hollow before he said his next piece, so pointedly that Ava could hardly believe he did not know the truth. Those words fell like hands upon a drum, forceful and reverberating in her ears. Outwardly she dared not even blink and she had to force herself to exhale the breath that had caught in her throat.

Perhaps if he hadn't been so correct she might've recalled herself thinking him intelligent only moments earlier, but he'd struck a chord so in-tune that she didn't even imagine he could've come across the truth through logic. "Clever," the dark she-wolf remarked easily, her quiet tones suggesting he had not just shattered her confidence. "Have you always been, or is that something sown?" The question was somewhat cheeky - it had to be, lest Ava would let her frustration at being one-upped bottle up inside her - but it was nothing more than rhetorical.

Squaring her shoulders she looked directly at him, trying to maintain a blank facade so that he might not somehow find a different weakness. With a delicate sniff she proffered, "Perhaps if I knew who I was speaking to I might speak more openly." She tilted her head just slightly, the corner of her lip twitching. "A name for a name?"

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"Sown," he evenly answered. "Further cultivated by a long lost mentor and many years of solitude. We all must have the means to endure; it just happened I've always seemed to manage just fine with words." The question might have been rhetorical, but the Advisor felt the need to reply. What harm could there be in coating himself with another mask anyway?

"Perhaps if I knew who I was speaking to I might speak more openly," she then suggested with the canting of her skull. "A name for a name?" His lip-flapping had been useless. Just like that she was ready to lower her guard, not completely but just enough to show that she was willing to work with him, to offer him something of her innermost being in return for the information he held. He had to consider the gesture and his lips evened out into a hard black line.

Of all the words and titles in the world, Mapplethorpe, of course, held his as the most valuable... that was until she came along. Never mind that he had to learn her name from her wayward being of a mate, Rhysis, but once he had acquired it, everything shifted. The code of secrecy laid on top of his already promised vow to safeguard her further barred him from releasing her name. As such, he, the Advisor of Nomads Pass, would willingly give his name before Naira Aquila's.

"Thorpe," he offered, opting to use a variation of his name to half-disguise it. "And, you are?" The introduction and exchange for her own came easily, without the dire undertones of a full-fledged lie or a hint of distrust. A name, in essence, was only just another word after all, and he had given her a valid response. Whether or not she would ask more of him was still in the air, but he was wholly determined to keep as much of his information covered and well out of reach by request of his beloved Queen. Any means to shilly-shally were immediately discarded; what scraps of knowledge he held would not be given unless she offered him the most lucrative of wisdom beyond the Pass.

His message was pointed - or at least, it felt that way for Ava - and above all, inherently true. We all must have the means to endure. For the night-cloaked female it had always been performance, to chameleon to a situation, to match the tone of another. Even here she had seen the male's guard and at once taken a similar caution, having to study him like he studied her.

But the second half of his response settled more heavily in her ears. At once she understood the fortitude that enveloped him. While she had held him at a distance, uncertain of his hostility or what threat he might pose, it was now ever clearer how dangerous it would be to underestimate the mottled-hued male. Even if by some impressive display she could win some form of physical fight, he had something sharper than teeth hidden behind those eyes of gold, and worth twice as much. Of course she could not harbor even an ounce of trust for a stranger with such a wit; yet respect she did gain with each back and forth of their banter.

So he gave her a piece of his identity, Thorpe, and she thought not to question it. After all, he wore a coat of stone and tawny Leadess and that information was enough if she ever wanted to find him again. For a moment her amber eyes searched him, matching the peculiar moniker to his ever calm facade. Of course Ava did not seek to waste his time - it was her interested in him, after all, so she considered his addendum - and you are? - rather quickly. "My name... was not part of the agreement," she responded casually, if only so that he knew she had not been manipulated into divulging more than she wanted, nor had she so soon forgotten the terms of the agreement. It had been, after all, a name for a name and the terms only called for two identities. Yet it was far simpler just to say, "But I have nothing to hide. Ava."

It suited her to stop there, almost as if she wanted to press his buttons. His cool exterior was equally intimidating and yet it invoked at least the smallest part of envy in her. She never did like the back seat, but in this prickly hollow Ava had to remind herself it was her place. "As for you, Thorpe, you happen to look just the slightest like your Queen, from a distance. That's why I'm here." The ghost of a crooked grin hung on her maw, a little miffed to show him he'd been right all along about her reasons for hanging out - but also somewhat excited to see his reaction to her purpose after all.

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