Beginning anew

Oooc: sorry for the shortness but I'm tired and should have gone to bed hours ago...

A small amount of anger simmered in her as she traveled north. Not only had the pack she had been looking to join disbanded just as she was asking to join but the mountain pass had closed and become far too dangerous for anyone to pass safety. So heading north, there was hope that she had stumbled across another pack she could join as son as she smelt the markers. Toeing the line, Neoma breathed in deeply. Why was this happening? She had only wanted a pack to survive the winter. Nothing more, nothing less.

Lifting her snout, a soft howl went out to ask for whoever was in charge so that she may speak with them. No threats were held in the howl, only a question that was polite. Lowering her head, she waited patiently and carefully watched her surrounding. She had no idea what this pack was like so she was cautious. <b style="color:#1c6e13;">Speech

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(more just a note for me: this is taking place before Borlla challenges Lucero)

It seemed as though there would be no end to the wolves that came calling at their borders. Each day there was a new soul and Borlla began to find herself exhausted. Their numbers were growing, certainly, which was good, and the more she thought about it, the more she wondered how much she really cared. If someone wanted some food for the winter, then fine, so long as they pulled their own weight and stayed the hell away from her. Desertion had been a central theme in the woman's life, so what was one more soul, especially if they didn't mean anything to her? Deep down it would hurt, it always did, knowing that someone you might've come to form some faint platonic feelings for thought nothing of you or your feelings. But to hell with them.

The woman certainly had teeth and knew how to use them. If their paths ever crossed again, she would offer them no kindness. When she answered the call today, her posture was high, and there was a clear look of irritation on her face, obvious impatience. She said nothing as she approached, only bared her teeth at the stranger, a warning to the darker woman to back away from the scent markers. They were there for a reason. Letting her jowls fall back over yellowed teeth, Borlla eyed the opposing female expectantly and with continued impatience. If she had something to say, she ought to get it out. <b style="color:#32527a">

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It wasn't long before soneone had answered her call and to be frank, Neoma could easily tell that the light coloured female wasn't in the best of moods so the darker fae knew to be precise and tell the female why she was here.

<b style="color:#1c6e13;"> "I am Neoma Flint, a scout trained from birth." Neoma told her bluntly, taking a few steps away from the scent makers. There had been a look that told her that if Neoma had taken another step forward, those yellow teeth would have been snapping at her and chasing her away from the borders. Making her lose any chance of joining the pack. <b style="color:#1c6e13;">"I would like to join your pack, if there is room within." Neoma's ears and tails were lowered, as was her head as well.

Again, she fought against her instincts to stand tall with her normal confidence. This was quite possibly her last chance to safety join a pack before it begun to get to dangerous to travel much farther. Even if there was another pack nearby, who knows if a blizzard or some kind of storm would just swing in? She couldn't risk it.

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Look Out!

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

“And what would you offer our pack?” His tone came from the silence that followed, the pale Leader sliding up to the two she-wolves, once more his stride taking him to stand tall by his mate’s side. His shoulder brushed confidently against Borlla’s, and while he longed to embrace her properly, there was business to attend to in the form of a swarthy rogue. To say he was content to be greeting yet one more loner at his borders would be a lie – Magnolia Glen was a quiet pack that thrived upon one another as family and trust. They did not play host to the random wolf seeking temporarily shelter from hardship – they sought loyalty, and anyone to betray it would not be welcomed back.

The she-wolf heeded Borlla’s warning snarls carefully enough, backpedaling from Magnolia Glen borders with enough caution that it placed Phineas at ease. Yet she still remained standing, a note of pride emanating from her even if only holding herself slightly lower in respect.

He was looking for pure submission, not a head bow. His own form took a step forward, his figure lifting threateningly as a low growl pressed to his lips as they pulled back, flashing his ivory teeth. She could spout out any reasons she desired, but nothing would convince him she was worth his time until she showed her lenience to him. Pride could be an ugly thing, and could be the deciding factor to whether he allowed her to cross these lands or not.

Inwardly, Neoma nearly swore when she remembered that in order to gain complete trust of these wolves, she couldn’t act completely like herself and when the questioning male pushed forward with a snarl, the dark fae-with great regret and bruised pride that was carefully hidden-forced herself to lower her body to the ground. A small whine of submission and apology escaped past her teeth, showing her throat as everything that made her her pushed in protest to this cowardly act. This wasn’t her!

She was proud and strong, a leader and not some low life grunt that had to scrabble in the dirt for entry to a pack. Lastly, as her eyes were lowered to their paws, anger seethed hidden deep within. How humiliating! How degrading! But she pushed it all down. Without a pack, her chances of surviving winter were slim.

<b style="color:#1c6e13;">”Please, forgive my rudeness.” She spoke genuinely, not lifting her gaze at all until she knew it was safe to do so. <b style="color:#1c6e13;">”It has been a long and hard journey for me and I have already had one pack turn me away. It should not, however, excuse my manners.” As she spoke, the wind shifted slightly and then, there was the strong scent of a rabbit wafting by her nose. Neoma had an idea to show him what she could offer, in one aspect at least. <b style="color:#1c6e13;">”Though my skills best lay in that as a scout, perhaps I can show you my hunting prowess?”

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Inwardly, Borlla was quite happy that they didn't have loners sidling up to their borders claiming to be the most wonderful of hunters. Because she would only call them liars, and worthless ones at that. Her tail lashed behind her as she eyed the dark stranger, a stain against the snow. Yes, this woman would be a terrible hunter, at least right now. And thankfully she called herself a scout. The perfect coloring for a scout, stark against the white backdrop, an obvious figure to see. Borlla's nostrils flared, taking in the scent of Phineas as his scent preceded the sound of his pawsteps. He was soon at her side, and she pressed against him, thankful again for his presence. The submission that Neoma had shown earlier to Borlla was clearly not enough for the man who had all the right in the world to demand respect. She stood stiffly eyes regarding the two as he moved towards her, interested to see what she would do.

It seemed that, with a bit of effort on her part, the woman lowered herself respectfully, asking for the pale man's forgiveness. Foolish, prideful wolves, all thinking they could be the boss. If she was so certain of herself, then why was she here? Begging at their borders for their food? Her nose twitched, catching the scent of rabbit, and her hackles rose, eyes suddenly locked upon the dark wolf, wondering what she would do, for it seemed she'd caught the odor as well. Borlla still thought it foolish, much more eager to see the stranger as a scout, but it was not her decision to make.<b style="color:#32527a">

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She lay down now, appeasing the beast.. for now. He allowed a rumbling growl to escape his jaws, though silenced when she spoke once more. While he had originally questioned her talents, it was something else she had said that had gained his interest. “And what would you hunt?” The question came out in a drawl, his muzzle giving a nod to the lands about them. “We are in a famine. There is barely anything to hunt.” The scorn within his tone was evident, and his eyes flickered briefly to his mate before once more settling upon the darker she-wolf.

“And why did the previous pack turn you away?” He felt he already had the answer, given the attitude she had walked here with. Unfortunately, it would seem she had not learned from her mistake before, and even as her swarthy form lay pressed to the cold of the snow, he was uncertain she had truly learnt it even now.

He remained where he stood – one shoulder pressed gently to that of his mate’s. Borlla herself was faring well these days – the only thought that pleased him thus far in this bleak winter. The idea of his mate returning to her old self stirred a confidence in him he was beginning to forget, and soon, he could only hope she would be well enough to take her rightful role by his side. Lucero had stepped up dutifully, and while he was unsure if the she-wolf would offer a fight for the rank, he was grateful for everything she had done.

What could she possibly do to convince them, him, that she truly wished to join their pack? She thought furiously, thinking how she could so it. It seemed the male wanted total submission but she was already being pushed to her limits...

<b style="color:#1c6e13;">"I do not know, they simply turned me away. I assume because of food reasons." Neoma replied truthfully, biting back the urge to snap at him and tell him to mind his business. She knew he wanted full submission, it was easy to see that. What she was doing now didn't please him and she had a feeling unless she flashed her belly to him, he wouldn't allow her passage into his pack. <b style="color:#1c6e13;">"And I smelt rabbits nearby, though they might be long gone by now."

Her eyes went over to the female, seeing that her eyes were locked onto the dark fae. What was she looking at? Simply studying to see what she would do? <b style="color:#1c6e13;">"As I said, my talents lie in the field of scouting. Even if we went for them now, the best I could do is possibly track them." Finally, Neoma sighed and allowed her ears to fall. The pride that had been radiating off her fell like a raindrop from the sky and her eyes filled with sadness. <b style="color:#1c6e13;">"I'm sorry. I recently had a scuffle with a good friend of mine, we decided to separate and I haven't seen him since. I worry for him and I suppose I haven't gotten over the scuffle."

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(This post was last modified: Jan 11, 2014, 01:08 PM by Neoma.)

It slowly began to dawn on the woman that this dark stranger was stalling. Even as she fell to the snow, she sensed that it wasn't enough, especially based on the attitude that the woman had given so far, mostly in body language. Her ears twitched as she tried to get a feel on the situation, wondering if Phineas would push her further, or if she would be getting away with her words. An honest answer came forth from the woman, and Borlla stifled a shrug. Food was a decent answer, but it didn't stop the woman from wondering if it was something more. She tried not to linger on it, though the way her tail moved errantly at her back betrayed that she could not push this encounter to the back of her mind so easily.

In Borlla's mind, the woman seemed more willing to blabber on with excuses than do what she was expected to, and that was submit. She didn't desire to infuriate those that wished to join their ranks, make enemies among the wolves, but no matter what this woman claimed to have to offer them, she was obviously capable of something or she wouldn't still be alive, and all Borlla wanted now was to see this woman prostrate before them. With a gentle and meaningful press to Phineas's side, Borlla's tail rose over her back, her hackles rose, and she took a step forward. Lips pulled back, revealing her yellowed teeth, and she stared down at the woman, no words coming out of her mouth, not eager to inspire more words from the female. <b style="color:#32527a">

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