Once Upon a December

Dancing Bears, Painted Wings

Lily Aquila

things I almost remember...

She had foolishly let @Mace go ahead while she continued to search the area around the flooded Rapids - and by the time she had reached the mountain it was too late. A blizzard seemed to spring out of the previously clear blue skies and it had pushed her back, back into the cover of the Red Fern Forest. She had taken refuge among gnarled roots curled into a tight ball, the giant trunk providing her some shelter from the cutting winds. She had buried her nose under her tail and squeezed her eyes shut to wait out the storm. By the time she made it back there was no way through, she could only hope the boy had made it over in time.

So she had wandered this side a little more, stomach slowly shrinking in on itself, the dull ache her constant companion. At first she thought she had been dreaming - the scent struck her like a sudden bolt of lightning, pulling at her deepest memories. Fuzzy outlines, warmth and the deep rumble of voices seen through barely opened eyes. Her ears had tipped forward, while a small and uncertain whine escaped her chest... Who...? Why...? Curiosity had gotten the better of her as her dark nose dipped into the snow, swaying this way and that - searching, seeking, trying to catch the smell again... but nothing. And then almost out of nowhere the distinctive scent of a pack border. A desire to survive had her tipping back her head to call, a question clear in her tone who are you stranger? A mournful note of a memory just below the surface, and a request. Please let me in.

☽ ✦ ☾

template made by GINNYSAURUS. of RPG-D.

While the beginning of winter had seemed harsh, it had been nothing compared to now. Snow cloaked across the ivory male’s pelt, though his fur kept him insulated. His eyes scanned the territory before him, squinting across the bright white of the fallen snow, and the myriad of snowflakes that still drifted from the sky. Visibility was poor, and in turn, he knew he likely should not have been along the borders, but at the pack den, keeping warm heart with his pack mates.

This thought only had a moment of existence before he paused, deciding to turn back. Despite this desire, it seemed fate had a different idea, and a mournful cry arose across the frozen skies, beckoning someone.. anyone, to the borders. His gaze narrowed, glancing over his shoulder quickly with longing to be at home, curled up by Borlla, telling tales to his children. Duty came above all else, and pushing his longing aside, the Argyris male loped to the direction of the cry.

On a normal day it would have taken him little time to locate the stranger. Today, however, the moments stretched on to an hour. Guided primarily by scent alone, Phineas finally drew closer to the visitor, his eyes falling upon her form that blended so well in the snow. “You are on Magnolia Glen borders,” he emitted more loudly, hoping his voice carried past the wind. “State your reasons for being here.” Giving a quick shake of his pelt, the snow that had clumped to his pelt fell to the ground now, though sparse bits of ice still clung to him. Winter was no friend to any wolf, and yet the lone wolf would suffer the most. Was that what she sought here? Out of desperation for survival?

Dancing Bears, Painted Wings

Lily Aquila

things I almost remember...

As the icy flakes fell she waited, allowing her rump to fall to the snow covered ground. Her eyes narrowed to slits and the snow piled higher until she spotted the vague outline of a wolf approaching, only discernible because it moved while all else stayed still. Her sudden movement to stand respectfully caused the drifts about her shoulders to fall like a heavy cloak as she quickly lowered her head and kept her tail pointed firmly towards the ground. Her nose twitched questioningly, to look at him he could well be the father her mother had always described, but it wasn’t his scent that drew her here.

He was quick to get to the point and so she took a deep breath. “I-” already her story sounded ridiculous in her own head. “I got lost... and then the rapids... the pack... they’re gone and the mountain...” she was young, she was nervous and it was showing in the way that her body shrunk closer to the ground, in the curve of her spine and the nervous way her tongue darted out to pass over her lips. “I would ask... to join you now. I’m still learning but I promise to do my best!” and I was so sure... but she wasn’t sure. She knew nobody here, no face jumped into her mind when she had picked up on the strangers trail. Her eyes were focused on the pale mans chest, ready for him to pass his judgement. After all, what more could the yearling offer than to try and hunt and look after the pups. There wasn’t much to her after all.

☽ ✦ ☾

template made by GINNYSAURUS. of RPG-D.

Look Out!

There is a rabbit's nest nearby. +1 Health

He followed her with his eyes – the way her lithe form seemed to shrink further to the ground with each syllable. The muddle of information meant little to him – he did not know what pack had inhabited any rapids, nor where their territory might lie.. nor did he care to know. He had considered himself on neutral grounds with his neighbors, and while he and Inkheart had always intended to travel and set about to meeting the other packs of the area, the busy day to day activities of life had preceded that.

There was something about the girl that lured him in the very way a father would to protect his daughter. Many haughty and arrogant males had been upon his border as of late, and none had been able to tug on his sympathy the way she had. Still, he knew nothing of her, and with a critical gleam to his stoical features, the Argyris man shifted his weight, not once showing lenience with his posture. The scent of a potential meal drifted past him, and with a narrowing gaze, he snorted. “Do your best then. Show me what you have.” It was a test of sorts – he could not accept a complete incompetent, and while she was young, she should have some form of skill.. especially to still be alive.

With these words, the ivory male sat back in the snow, feeling the cold envelop him as the wind brushed past. He waited for her now – to do something, anything, to show him she could be of some use.