Mountain of Dire Deliverance by Stone

April 18th | Cloudy | Late Afternoon- Evening | Disposition: Hungry, Injured | @Phineas

She had spied the mountains in the distance from her tree, the peaks beckoning with their snow-capped tops, bidding the mountain wolf to relinquish her hold on the lower, softer grounds. How long had it been since she touched the mountain's likeness? Five, nearing six seasons since her travels began? And how often was it that she thought of the rugged lands? Their generous slopes and treacherous cliffs. It was a calling, same as the one that had led her from her home that compelled her to take stride toward the distance to make it all the more closer.

The goal remained in her eyes long after the days began to blur. Even after hunger began to settle again upon her. What meager meal she found was quickly devoured then forgotten as the energy of travel drained all the flesh from her her belly, rendering her tired and exhausted even with what she could find. It was never enough, yet she cared little for it. What mattered was that she saw the glimpse of home in the rock face. Her family in the steps of lupine like herself, and the smell of the pack in the mountain air.

Even if the likelihood of all were nil.

The elements took their toll on the tired body, but still her perseverance carried her onward. Through split and jagged rock, she wore on being mindful of the terrain and the danger it posed. But it was not without awe for the beauty of such danger. Were it not for the slopes and the progression of her climb, she would have paused to admire the beauty that much longer... Yet she was granted her opportunity when the earth inevitably fell away.

However thinner her frame had become due to lacking nourishment, it was not enough to leave her lighter on the more fragile cliffs of the mountain. She had heard the sound before she felt the pull of gravity take hold, the groan of stone as it gave way to her weight. She felt not the hard stones, but the cool air of the mountain as it rushed across her muzzle, then the sting of her cheek as it struck a sharp edge. Her body as a whole went numb in the fall. The ground took a turn as her vision failed to follow its movements, yet it was her mind Thad made her realize that it was her that was turning- rather rolling down the mountainside toward the earth. She made no sound, for it was lost to the clatter of loosened earth and stone. There was only the audible 'thump' on her behalf as her body came to a halt at the base of her beloved vision. She had found the mountain, but like a novice she had let her footing falter. And her reward was the tinge of blood upon the air. And though she could not see it source, she could feel its leak from her crown, til it parted her forelocks and slipped down her resting muzzle. And for a moment, the beast was still.

(This post was last modified: Apr 19, 2014, 01:56 AM by K'arnae.)

~* Looking for Magnolia Glen plots/threads *~

He held no favor to move far from home since the snow had first blanketed the Glen only months before. The harshness of the season had denied any passage past the mountain - a lesson unfortunately learned by the fallen Inkheart. The swarthy male would still best his thoughts form time to time, lulling him to a stoical silence as the countless faces of his pack had drifted away.. whether by death, or by mere disappearance. Inkheart had only been one of many, followed in turn by the beloved Lucero, and even the inky healer, @Eek. The pack had once thrived upon large numbers, and yet now they were a kingdom dwindled -- worse still, he barely recognized the members he called 'pack,' and while he might have been the one to accept them within his haven, it did not seem to stir the same bond of brethern he had felt with the original members of the pack.

His paws led him astray though, on this day. He had left before dawn broke across the land and still the ivory beast did not see fit to turn back. He had not spoken to @Borlla since the day of their misdeed to Oak Tree Bend, and he had not attempted such. His nights were spent sleeping outside of the den they had dug the prior year -- she was bearing the next generation of the Glen cubs, and yet he could not bring himself to look at her yet. He was not even sure he knew her anymore.

So he traveled, steering clear of the crimson hills where he had found his son's frozen and lifeless form. Away from the serene retreat that he called home.. and toward the more testing terrain of the rocky slopes. He had crossed the mountain twice now, and yet it was not something that had beckoned to him until today. Unsure of where his paws led him, his mind played back to the days of Willow Ridge. Would this year have been different, had he stayed? If he had raised @Elettra 's children, would they have come to call him father? The ebony she-wolf had not been thought of during the winter months, and yet now, with Borlla's betrayal to the pack and her childish decision, he found his thoughts straying to the curves of her figure once more.

It was the sharp metallic scent of blood that pulled him from these musings, and as he loped along the base of the mountain, it was then his bright eyes would find the small trail of the red liquid. Blinking, he followed the trail, his eyes finally landing upon the creamy figure of a she-wolf.. unmoving. Stiffening, the regal creature prowled forward now, his muscles taut as he regarded her still form silently. Dead, perhaps? Another taken by the mountain's wrath.. it was certainly well named. And yet just then his eyes caught the ever so gentle rise and fall of her chest, indicating life remained in her lungs. Moving closer, his muzzle swung down, nudging her cheek gingerly, though a stoical mask lay upon his facade.

(This post was last modified: Apr 21, 2014, 10:38 PM by Phineas.)

@Phineas - Feel free to sort of 'assume' her injuries until she starts moving. Deep gashes, scrapes, etc.

No thought had yet surfaced in the mind of the fallen dame, for the mind was too consumed by the sharp pricks of pain. Were it not for the lively chatter of nature around, she would have thought her existence had slipped into the other realm. For surely in death, there would have been no sirens from the birds above, nor wind to gently caress her blood moistened fur. And the chill… would her body not have grown cold in an instant if life had been drained from it? Or perhaps there was a progression needed for this to take hold, and the numbness she felt was only the beginning.

But she was alive, not at the steps of death’s den. For as long as she could feel and breathe, she knew this. But still her mind remained a blank as to what had transpired. She could not ponder how far or how hard she had fallen, as if the tumble itself had been erased from her mind. Her body, however, did know of the extent and as she attempting to rise pushing hard against the earth, it sharply resisted with a white pain radiating up the hindleg trapped beneath her. The beast yelped sharply then returned her head and body to the earth. Her eyes yet to open remained firmly closed as she lay, her breathing ragged but rhythmic as she waited for the pain to ease away with time…

…and then she awoke to a soft touched upon her cheek.

Time had slipped by her as she waited for the pain to subside. So much that she could feel the crust of her wound upon her head as she moved, as well as the dull pain as she gingerly shifted her injured leg beneath her. It was enough that her body could curl into its defensive posture without too much trouble to her body, but even that minor movement elicited a sound wince of agony as she tried to make herself appear smaller before this unknown and stoic figure. Though her maw would not part, the drawn back posture of her ears and lowering of her brows spoke in grander volumes than her gruff voice could have produced in that moment; she was in no position to entertain conflict. And fate willing, the wolf hoped she could not need to defend herself from the ill advances of another. Defensively, she tucked her head as far within the thinning folds of her neck as the pain would allow.

The ivory regal pondered the situation at this point -- the whine that escaped the creature's muzzle was testament to the pain that likely coursed across her body, and the gentle curling of her body as she attempted to remove herself from his touch. She meant nothing to him -- or so, logic would argue. And yet as his eyes skimmed across her battered figure, he was harshly reminded of Borlla and the treacherous fall she had taken the past autumn.

It was because of this that the rogue became something more.

He shifted his weight then, a soft sigh pressing past his lips as all tension escaped him. His eyes roved her figure, seeking out the injuries to determine whether she could even possibly live or not.. perhaps, the most kind thing to do would be to simply end her suffering and allow her to pass in to the next life. And yet his inspection thus far seemed to prove the point as moot. Blood seemed to come from her head, which was of concern -- trauma to such a tender area could be great. Otherwise, she seemed more battered, spare for a few cuts... and perhaps the limb she seemed to favor and move awkwardly when curling.

You'll want to lie still, he determined softly, his fiery eyes falling upon the crown of her head. That mountain can be unforgivable.. It was a gentle rumble, and while it seemed light in nature, it was certainly no joke. Magnolia Glen had suffered many times from its dangerous slopes. Yet now, unfortunately, they found themselves without a healer. Where does it hurt the most?

(This post was last modified: Apr 28, 2014, 12:10 PM by Phineas.)

@Phineas

Her heart had not suffered the drum of terror in some time. Not since she was a pup treading on the treacherous slopes of her home, alone for the first time. Then, she had brushed the sense of danger that had grasped all wolves that lived on the mountain. The uncertainty of what nature would bestow as they traveled… the likelihood that the earth could give away at any moment. All this that had not been felt in some time, came flooding back when overlooked by the towering form nearest to her side. It was the terror of the unknown that gripped her so suddenly; knowing that her body was vulnerable and the pale male was certainly able to inflict further harm… or worse. But was gripped her was the uncertainty as to whether or not he would go through with taking advantage of her state, or aiding her in some way to get her going again. It was the wait that kept her breath bated and body inevitably still. Her eyes wide and body tense regardless of how the taut muscles eventually pained her.

Gingerly, she made to uncurl, but obliged the male in ceasing for the moment, keeping her body an autumn rock lest she cause herself more pain. Her ears flicked back as he commented on the mountain. Had the fear not gripped her, she might have grunted as was her usual fashion in agreeing, but thought better of it considering what energy she could spare was better used for her hopeful movement. Sparing him not a glance, she attempted to reply to his inquiry in a manner that brought her comfort; wordless but in gesture, if not to show that she could at least comprehend him, then in show to both herself and him that she was not as extensively injured as she believed. She needed to know how well she could more.

Her body numbed somewhat by both pain and atrophy, she pushed her forelegs against the earth to tilt her body into a slow turn. A dull ache shot through the length of her back, but it was not enough to keep her immobile for long. Carefully, she guided herself over to her opposite side to reveal the wound that pained her the most. Wincing as the leg was freed from her body’s pressure, she near dropped to her side and let the wounded leg stretch out. She craned her neck over to assess it amidst the pain of its throbbing, checking that its angle was as it should have been and not mangled in some irreparable manner. Thankfully, it was not the angle that caught her eye, but a dark sharp protruding from it, not wholly embedded but deeply pressed within the beige fur. She turned at the sight of her own blood crusted around the jagged rock, then meekly lowered her eyes to the male’s paws. She whined softly, but shared nothing more.

Having been stern before in his ways to an extent, the winter that had passed as well as the loss of his son and countless pack mates had jade him deeply – gone was the trust that lingered from his eyes upon a new soul, or the prospect of a lone wolf seeking refuge to his home. Each wolf that had deemed loyalty to the Glen through the harsher winter months had left spare for one – the very one he had punished the most, @Neoma. Her presence was still only tolerated, though the punishment was not in turn to make her feel inferior, but to give her realization of how to hold oneself among the hierarchy of wolves.

Now, as he looked down upon the creamy female, he was sorely reminded of Borlla’s own tumble.. and yet also removed from the pain and sympathy he had felt for his mate. When they had brought her battered body back to him.. he would have given anything to have traded places with her.. to endure the pain and the healing that would need to occur. He did not feel that here – could not bring himself to care so much for a stranger, and yet his empathy had not faded from him fully.

His eyes scoured her figure, noting the cuts, the crimson that stained her fur. His eyes lingered upon the sharp rock embedded within her, allowing a rumble of displeasure to sneak past his lips at the sight. He was no healer, nor did the Glen hold one in their ranks after Eek’s disappearance. Yet even he knew it could not stay there.

Slipping around her, the alabaster wolf lowered his muzzle to inspect the rock closer, his eyes only briefly flickering over her features to gauge her reaction to his invasion of her privacy. I have a pack a few hours from here. We do not have a healer, but you can rest within our lands until you are well again and seek to leave. There was a small pause as he straightened slightly, his eyes regarding her quietly. But we’ll need to remove that before you walk.

Wounded as she was, the wolf could not let the injury consume her even as the lure of surrendering to the darkness of exhaustion became all the more pleasant. In the darkness of her mind, there was the calm she needed to heal and endure, but before this male, unknown but observant, she could not let herself fall to that peace again just yet. And there was the prickle in her thigh that kept her awake as well. Her eyes remained on him as he moved closer to her lying form, his muzzle close to her thigh as he inspected the wedged rock. Her ears perked forward as he spoke of a pack where she could rest, but they fell back with an unsung agony at the prospects of enduring the pain for hours. But who was she to complain then fate had given a gift such as this; shelter and a place to rest while she healed. Whatever the cost for this gift, she could pay it as long as she woke when the healing was complete. And if pain was the first payment, she could give it gladly.

But first, there was the matter of the rock, crusted and red and it remained in its furred crevice. Too true, it needed to be freed, but she was not excited for the pain to follow. Stifling her whimpering, she craned her neck back to look at the gash in her thigh, then again to the male before dropping her muzzle neck the stone. Her breaths were heavy, not in pain but in preparing for the new wave to follow. She opened her jaws til it was partially around the rock, her tail twitching as the edges brushed again her wound. Then without delay she closed her jaws and ripped her muzzle away from her thigh with the rock in maw. She did not cry out, but tensed as she clutched the stone in her jaws to hold her silence. The wound, now opened bubbled forth with new blood, but it was minute in comparison to what had been drawn by the rock. It was a moment more, before she finally found the strength to release the rock and attempt to push herself to stand on three working limbs. They smarted yes, as her weight and the tumble had put more pressure than what they were used to, but she was enduring... knowing that this was not the last she would have to deal with in terms of pain. Her body would adapt. She would adapt, but as she looked to the nameless male, she knew that for the beginning she would need his help.

"Where...?" She breathed heavily, stifling her pain as best as she was able.

There is an elk carcass nearby. It looks like it froze to death. +12 Health

She seemed not to want his aid – her ears slid back at the prospect of more pain, and yet no word or even sound of complaint escaped her muzzle at that point. Already he wondered about her – was she loyal? Such a wolf as herself could certainly do well in the Glen, and was even perhaps what the pack needed at this time after the winter months had finally shed away. First, however, there was the task of getting her there.. and then allowing her time to heal.

She was a brave thing he noted, as her muzzle gripped to the rock. His fiery eyes swept over her features as she pulled, releasing the wound and blood.. her own jaws clenching slightly to the hardened stone. He did not flinch outwardly, though within he could only imagine the pain she felt now. As she hobbled to her paws, his eyes once more moved to her wound, seeing if the blood would slow at all. It would do them no good to have her die of blood loss during their travels.. and even then, Magnolia Glen was without a healer – was he truly doing her any favors by bringing her home with him?

Eastern of here, he ushered, turning now and beginning to climb down the now more even side of the mountain to reach the base. My lands are called Magnolia Glen. His muzzle would swing back every so often to catch glimpse of her, reassuring himself she was still able to follow him as he slowed his pace for the injured she-wolf. As they moved, his nose quivered, his eyes moving from the horizon that promised him home and to the remains of a carcass. Chuffing softly, he slipped forward, his nose pressing to the meat as he looked it over. It seemed perfectly edible. Sidestepping, his muzzle dipped in her direction, beckoning her to his side to see if she wanted something to settle her stomach before he took a chunk for himself – and more importantly, a piece that would feed his mate and children.

With nourishment in their belly, the male was more confident she would last their travel, and without another word after a few silent moments, he lead her to her new home.

(This post was last modified: Jul 02, 2014, 06:29 PM by Phineas.)