lazarus

rowan attaya

Sunlight filtered through the canopy overhead, dancing with the wind as it pushed the branches together. Not too long ago the branches had been barren, eaten away by winter's icy teeth, but the regrowth was quick once the seasons allowed it. The waters snarled as fiercely as he had ever remembered, fed by the melting winter and rejuvenating spring. The dark yearling moved with far less vigor. Every step he took he smelled them. Mother and father. Sisters and brother. Pack-mates and friends. Darkwater Rapids. Phantom scents forever in his mind, from an entire year prior, though they smelled as fresh as the day he first left the birthing den. Despite his deliberate movements the boy would soon reach what he sought. Not too far ahead was the rise that lead to their pack den - or whatever skeleton it had left behind. The thought of finally seeing it brought him to a halt.

He swept the land with tarnished gold eyes, breath hitched in his throat and ice running through his veins. Outside it was sunny, and dry. The distant songs of birds intermixed with the sound of rushing water, warbled by the mist. Those raging waters had redecorated the land but, had he never been here before, he wouldn't have known. Carefully he crept onward, reaching the den with more courage in his eyes than was in his heart. He grit his teeth and shoved his muzzle forward, peering into what was once his home. Closing his eyes he could see himself, Rowan Attaya, snuggled up with Cinder and Quil against Ava's belly while Kade guarded them from the opposite side. But when he opened them all he saw was darkness, all he smelled was water and rot. A shudder shot down his spine, causing his vision to blur. In his mind black waters raged like flames, the drum of thunder drowning out the world. He felt the waves rise up to clutch his throat, up to his nose, his stubby legs not fit to swim, fighting, failing, drowning, black water, black water, black water...

A horrid snarl ripped from within as the black-legged wolf jerked his body, stumbling out of the nightmare and back into the world. His chest heaved, unsure when he had begun to hold his breath, tongue lolling as he filled his lungs again. Without looking again the yearling began his descent. They were not here. Of course they were not here. He had known the flood tore his family apart and left them each lost, dead or alive. Some sick desire to see what had once been the glory of the East with his own eyes, his mother's eyes, brought him here. Now that he'd come, he felt no resolution.

Bile was in his throat, a sharp metallic taste on his tongue. How it made him sick to remember the day Darkwater Rapids was lost. It had taken him a very long time to haul back to the place that had thrown him out, but he hadn't come here to vomit on his old doorstep. Closure was here, somewhere, in the Lore. Bodies, graves, stories, he didn't care. He just had to know. But where to start? Clearly not here. He would have to move on from this graveyard if he would ever make any progress. And so the Attaya did, loping silently as the ghosts that haunted this place to get away. But for some masochistic reason he kept his nose down, inhaling the scents of what had been so very long ago.

(This post was last modified: May 04, 2014, 02:40 PM by Rowan.)

adopt thea?

@Rowan

Wanderlust would guide her on a north bound trek, following the gentle curve of the river as it trickled from the mountain. Not in ignorance, but in purpose she had followed the path leading to the source of her divergent path and her deliverance; the mountains she sought that reminded her of home only to feel its base by pain and crippled body. A deeper mind might have assumed this fall was the cause of some higher power, encouraging that the female stay away from the images that symbolized what was now gone. But she could not entertain such thoughts. Not when she believed herself the master of her path and would not allow even nature to divert her from it.

Yet was it not nature that set her on this new path; the potential course that led to the Glen and its inhabitants?

In them, she had only just found what reminded her of the place she held dear. By the smiles of youths ambitious and hopeful for the future, she was gifted with the first glimpse of her own charges now grown and undoubtedly thriving under the care of her siblings. She believed this was so… with her heart, she held this hope. Rather the image of them she had now be of that wonderful future, than the cruel possibility that it might have been the contrary. Both savage and unkind. No. Surely they were well.

Yet this did not keep her from the course towards the mountains, their peaks calling from the distance for bother her adoration and her marvel for their height. Each time she looked upon its face even from a distance, she saw herself dancing upon the forbidding rocks as well as the blurs of her siblings as they commenced a game of chase. Always when she looked to the mountain, was she gifted with the serene visage of home. And so, she could not understand how it had turned to cruel, this mountain to the east. Was she not meant to climb it? Was she not meant to recapture those fond glimpses of a life once had?

Such thoughts were unbecoming in the face of the fortune fate had brought her, yet she could not help what was felt in her heart. Yet she obliged the present by turning away from the past, and laid in a course toward northern-most grounds instead.

Having parted through the Red Fern to stretch out her sense of the land, she came upon a sound discovery apparently hidden from the world. Much like the Glen, it took a careful paw to navigate through the wily growth of nature. But even with a strong sense of direction, it was as though the earth underpaw shifted on a whim, and upon what her eyes beheld, it was with good reason that one would assume so. Water cascading from the atop the rocks and heavy roots of towering trees, as if the earth had suddenly released all the water contained within its pores. Its path was deafening, but none the less beautiful to the bi-colored eyes that observed its course in awe. For a moment, the woman found herself still upon a lower stone beneath the falls. Just watching as the water raced and fed into the streams rolling smoothly below.

A grimace seemed permanently etched upon his black mask as the yearling traveled away from his home. His heart no longer felt heavy and full, saturated with the black water that had stolen him, but hard and cold like a stone. He wore numbness like a sheath, armoring him against feeling anything at the moment. He would deny what he had confirmed at least until the sun rose the next morning, before moving on. For now he remained trapped within calamity, fighting not to care, fighting not to feel weakness. If only he had taught himself to swim. If only he had never been separated. If only he could have hung on to at least one of his family, then he would have never had to go through with this. It was his fault.

The rush of Secret Falls overtook his thoughts, loud and cacophonous to command his attention. Already having put some lengths between him and the den, Rowan was eager to up the distance. He circled the side of the Falls, bronze eyes searching for something he could recall from his youth. There. A depression in the ground near the top of the water gave way to path, winding down the water's mouth. Rowan began to descend, mindful of the rocks and their slippery surfaces. He shuddered to imagine surviving a violent flood only to meet his demise by slipping in a puddle. Water was life, but to him it was death, too, and he needed to rid himself of its reminder.

Nearly half-way down his eyes flickered to something pale in color, standing out in the shadows. A wolf. Rowan knew at once she was not one of their own. There hadn't been many tawny wolves in their group, save for Sibyl and Destin, but their coats were mottled in woodsy colors and not so pure of tones. He hesitated to continue. If she was not here to leave flowers, then what brought her? Few found the Falls besides those of the Rapids. So what did she want? Despite the horror, Rowan had been born in the shadow of the trees fed by these falls, and could not help but to feel protective of the place that had spat him out.

Shaking his dark head he cast his gaze away. He was being nonsensical. Maybe she was just passing through. Either way the boy continued down, carefully placing one dark paw after another until the ground leveled out. The water crashed into the river below, shrouding him in mist. He debated taking the opportunity to leave unnoticed. But he wasn't going that way. With a quiet resignation his shadowy figure broke through the mist, peering out to see if she was still there or gone.

(This post was last modified: May 11, 2014, 03:58 PM by Rowan.)

adopt thea?

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

@Rowan

The waters were memorizing, a distraction to the mind as it looked upon the scenery in awe at its majesty. The waters had their source, of this she was certain, but the illusion constructed by the heavy roots above their cascade made for a wondrous sight that elicited both a chill and wonder. Could nature make such happenings like this, she wondered. It must have, for it mirrored the strangeness of the unforeseen itself.

Curious, she slipped down from her observation site to better immerse herself in the stirred mist of the falls. It became a shower of sorts, not quite drenching the she-wolf as she followed the course of the river, but a light dampening to her fur in dire need or some form of cleansing. In true wanderer spirit, she let her eyes absorb what they could make of the land, cataloging by sight and smell should she wish to come upon this little haven again. Admittedly, it was a sight of tranquility… and dare she call it an ideal location for her and the young ones to visit when they were ready to learn how to fend themselves on the land. There was moss upon the stones growing steadily on one side to indicate a direction, and the ferns that lined the river were in full bloom, curling and moistened with the spray of the falls. Beneath them were small herbs, nameless to the female but known by their appearance; an option for quick healing should the young find themselves injured on their way back home.

Yes… the grounds could become a lesson in and of itself…

Smiling softly to none the female raised her muzzle to again admire the falls, then suddenly her smile faded as she caught movement from within the mist. Her hackles rose as a dark shape began to emerge from the clouded air. Not a shadow, but a living, breathing thing as she glimpsed the flesh of a dark nose peek through. For a moment, the female said nothing to its presence but watched intently for an indication of hostility…

Well, she had noticed him, and Rowan was no wolf for charades. Easily he removed himself from his shelter, the mist parting for his lanky form as he walked further down the water's path. When the spray no longer did its best to obscure him he stopped and faced the stranger, his form tall but relaxed and tail neutral. To her raised hackles he raised his lip, giving a flash of teeth to suggest he would retaliate if she gave him a reason. Until then, the distance was enough to protect them both, and thus he allowed his expression to fall neutral again.

With a hardened gaze the yearling studied this stranger. From sight alone she looked to be in her prime, of formidable size and stature. Not one to be intimidated by this, as Rowan hoped he would grow into his tall frame once he hit a little more stability in his life, he stepped closer. As far as he could tell, she really was alone. For a brief moment he swept the surrounding territory with his gold eyes, wondering if she'd discovered some sort of valuable resource. His gaze trickled upward toward the Falls, hearing but not seeing the rapids above. He wouldn't be surprised if there was metaphorical gold somewhere about these Riverlands. Kade and Ava would not have chosen this place if it hadn't been the best.

His stomach rejected thinking about his most likely dead family once again. To prevent any embarrassing gagging the male swung his head back down, focusing again on the tawny-agouti female. Voice like gravel he rumbled, "What are you doing here?" No interrogation, no intrigue. Just a plain question in search of facts, for whatever reason Rowan wanted that.

@Rowan

The shape further drew itself from the mist taking the form of something familiar yet unknown; a lupine youth, assumed by the size of his paws as well as the lack of marring to his face. She had often seen this trait in young wolves; a sign that they had yet to endure the repeated reprimand that came with pack life, or been weathered by the elements as most of their seniors had been. But too was his size; not quite lean but respectably fit, missing only a bit of filling and definition. Yet to his credit, the voice of the youth surprised her, taking one a more grizzled quality than what she had become accustomed to. She looked to the young male with a questioning tilt, not quite ignoring, but setting aside his question for but a moment. Perhaps she had assumed wrong and this male was older than she had anticipated. Regardless, it did not discourage her presence by the falls.

“Exploring,” she answered simply, after holding a bit of time to herself to further assess the boy. Like him, she made certain that no others were in the area, keeping nostrils open and ears on a swivel should something other than the soothing ambiance of the river come forth.

“Yourself?” raising her muzzle slightly she inquired in turn. She had no qualm with the young male, this much was made clear by the relaxed manner in which she kept herself. Her shoulders drawn down and tail passively swaying, looking more at ease than in the present of a threat.

The wolf held herself differently after he revealed himself, her form maintaining a neutrality that suggested he ought not to be threatened. Rowan wondered if it was true. Her answer was simple and believable enough. Wanderlust was an affliction of their kind. Though he hadn't known many wolves with it, he understood his mother had always been flighty with her feet. Perhaps that was the meaning of this wolf's exploration here. It did occur to the dark yearling that if she was out exploring and not traveling, it meant that she was likely close to home - or at least belonging to some pack down on the East.

She returned the question, proving herself to be more amiable than Rowan would have been, if the roles were reversed in this situation. He took a beat to consider his response, not quite knowing what to tell a stranger. He said, "Visiting," a graveyard. The spray turned cold as its droplets pelted him, like needles of ice. That was all he could do here. Just visit. There was nothing else left. With a subtle shudder he let the thought slip, hoping it would dissipate entirely. It didn't. It sat at the back of his mind, pulsing like a head injury.

Rowan cast his gold gaze downstream. Somewhere along the way the water relaxed and lent a calmer flow to some smaller tributary. He had never been so far away from his home (in that direction and of his own free will) but supposedly there were some wolves down there he had intended to meet a long time ago. He wandered back to an earlier thought and looked upon the female once more. "Do you live here?" Rowan asked, not fully expecting a response. He wasn't being the best of company, and he knew that, but it was difficult to be amicable in his current position.

@Rowan

However benign the youth appeared, she knew better than to take him fully at face value, but as it was with most pups, it was difficult to maintain such an air. Her mind had not fully wrapped itself around the prospect that the young could be just as deceptive as the older. Their eyes could lie and their posture could be but a rouse to deceive the unsuspecting and ignorant of their true intentions. There was a time before the Glen when such doubts would not have entered her mind. But as one was made by the sum of their experiences, this female was no exception to have evolved such an outlook due to recent events. Never the less, she retained the relaxed posture of her person but kept her eyes fixed on the young male unless it proved to be offensive.

The lighten the somber mood, she offered the faintest of smiles hoping to stir something of the like from the boy; perhaps crack through his countenance to witness some youthful exuberance, however subtle. "Visit?" As there were no markers of a pack present in the area, she was inclined to inquire lest she stumbled onto newly acquired lands by mistake. Though she did not assume her senses were so lacking that such a grievous error would have been made without her knowing. At least, not again. She left the air open to further explain should the young male so choose.

Feeling the prickle of the cooling mist creep through her fur, she roughly shook out her pelt til it was a fluffed mass of umber and beige. Had she another moment, she might have attempted to smooth the wild strands with some control, but knowing her explorations were not yet over, she let it be. Another lesson she would have to share with her young pupils; grooming was a luxury of status and was not afforded in the wild.

Her ears perked up when summoned to attention by the boy once more. "Not here," she returned. "But a little ways-" she paused for a moment and lowered her muzzle to the slick surface of her ledge. Searching briefly for a drier stone, she observed the direction in which the moss upon it grew. "-south of here." She concluded while returning her head to its fullest height to look to the boy. "Are you visiting from nearby?" Surely a yearling was not wandering on his own, and if not then perhaps there were other packs in the area she could make herself aware of.

Rowan twitched an ear at her echo and allowed the question to slip through the massive cracks in their conversation. He didn't necessarily want to tell her anything about the nature of his visit, given the rawness of his wounds. Besides, he was given no indication that this female might have been a valuable resource to him, and unless the fact changed he would be no more inclined to spill any of his torment on her. It was probably best for her, anyway.

While he considered the nature of their interaction he allowed her to observe as she pleased, not particularly minding her trained gaze. The smallest smirk would not be persuaded from him before, but the Attaya boy did allow one to grace his muzzle as she shook the waterfall's presence from her coat - but only because he knew her relief would be short lived. The water was never ending here... never, ever ending. Turning his head away he raised his lip to the memory, squinting his eyes shut. It was impossible to reminisce about his short-lived child hood when the very thing he had loved had taken them all away. He'd do well to remember that.

South of here. The direction took his attention. Not that he'd doubted she was a wolf of the Lore, it was still confirmation that she lived in the Vale. Swinging his head low he returned his gold stare to the beige-coated female as she posed him a question he couldn't well answer. Was he visiting from nearby? Well, no, technically not... technically yes? Where he'd come from he wasn't going back. Rowan shook his head, lifting his black chin ever slightly. "I'm from here," he admitted coolly, his hardened gaze trailing from her face to her toes where they gripped the mossy rock. He pictured himself in her position, only as a child, exploring somewhere beyond his parents reach. Eyes flickered back to meet her own for a brief moment, wondering if she'd realize the meaning of his loaded statement.