Cold Water Creek Into Giants

The stars had become, to Mercy, not only a guiding light but a source of solace, now that he knew how to read them in order to find his bearings. He recognized patterns and shapes in them, from which he could always tell where North was, though he mused to himself, now, that he wouldn't need that guidance. He and Aponi had found what they were looking for- a pack to live in, until they had begun to build their own pack. Until they were fully grown adults, and were able to cultivate a following and reclaim their home on the mountain. Still, he looked up to the stars in the crisp night sky and felt thankful that he'd learned, by their brilliance, how to find his way in the world.

The towering giant was always there, close by, visible in the distance even at night, as its hulking shoulders blocked out the stars, and illuminated by the gentle light of the moon. Having lived in Ghastly Woods, to the West of the mountain, it now felt somewhat odd to be living to the East of it. He was gifted with a different view of the mountain's slope now, though its contour was still very familiar. The mountain separated them from their former home, and kept old skeletons at bay. Whenever he thought of the Keep, he was filled with the oddest mixture of grief, regret and spite. But knowing that he was seeing a completely different side of the mountain now, gave him a respite from his resentment, and allowed him to heal.

Having been tracking the scent of hare for some time now, Mercy stopped to take a break and found himself lying on the ground, head tilted back so he could look up at the stars. He wanted to recognize more patterns, to make some sense of them and commit them to his memory. He had never heard the stories of the constellations, but had begun to realize that it would be much easier for him to recognize the stars if he morphed them into recognizable patterns. Thus, the boy lay, staring up at the stars as though trying to divine some sort of secret from their cryptic shapes.

"Speech"

MAGNOLIA Glen

TEMPLATE © NDA OF RCR & RPG-D

hope you don't mind me throwing scee in here!

SCERAL AESIR-DONATA

THAT WHICH DOES NOT KILL US MAKES US STRONGER

Being a ghost was not something Sceral wanted to be, but at the same time he was ashamed of himself and wanted to remain hidden beneath the metaphorical sheets of a faux phantom. He hadn't been in the company of his family for a long time and couldn't quite put a paw on why. He missed his mother, yes, but had managed to cleanse himself of the sadness and grief that had stuck to him like slick oil. Corinna certainly wouldn't want to see her youngest child moping uselessly. That was never what she wanted for him. So why was it that home didn't quite feel like home any more?

He found it perplexing. Distressing, even. He didn't want his brother and the Bend wolves to think he had abandoned them. When he did meander back into the territory, he kept his interactions to a minimum. Sceral sucked in a breath before letting it whoosh out in a deep sigh. His mother's grave … he had sworn to visit in the spring, to show his mother that he was okay, that she didn't need to worry. Perhaps he would go home, soon. He owed apologies. He had a lot to make up for, a lot to put right.

He followed the creek, knowing that it led directly to Spectral Woods—to home—before catching the scent of a hare. He paused briefly, his paw hovering above the ground as he sniffed. The lad remained in his fixed position before finally deciding that it would be best he bring it back to Oak Tree Bend. Who would he take it to, though? He usually gave his hunting practice to Corinna but now? It mattered little. If he stored it in a cache, someone would stumble across it and know that he had brought it back.

Setting off with his nose to the floor, Sceral quickly trotted along the banks. Glancing up into the surrounding dark, he found his eyes locking on a silver dusted figure. Once again, the Oak Tree Bend adolescent halted. Immediately, he narrowed his muddy eyes. He couldn't tell if they stranger had caught onto the smell of hare too, but what Sceral could see was that this wolf's head was tilted back, focused on the stars. Perhaps, if he was quiet enough, the pale boy could just move on past without being heard.

Snap!

Sceral winced and froze, glancing down at the dry twig that he had stepped on. Well, there went his plan of sneaking past …

Heee, lookit him and his bubble!

From what Mercy could see, finding shapes in the stars wasn't terribly hard. There were clusters of bright stars that were close enough together for him to pick them out at a glance, and then making them into some shape or other in his mind wasn't difficult. A smallish cluster of dim stars reminded him of a snowflake, and as it was in the North, he decided that it was some symbol of winter. There was a line of three stars, followed by a box of four stars that seemed to form a square- to Mercy, this looked like a body and a tail, but he hadn't decided exactly what kind of creature it was just yet, and found himself distracted from that thought when he heard a twig smap. His ears swivelled and he turned his head quickly, eyes widening a bit in the darkness as he sought out the shape of whoever it had been that had made the sound.

The adolescent looked to be about the same age as Mercy, and though he looked to be around the same size, he did appear to be taller. Mercy had a heftier build, more in terms of length and width, but wasn't as tall as the other yearling. He was paler, and had a wide, brown gaze that looked somewhat guilty; he'd also frozen mid-step, which seemed to indicate to Mercy that this boy hadn't intended for Mercy to hear him. Mercy tilted his head to the side in a casual gesture. "You're caught," He said simply, but with no cruelty or sarcasm in his voice. He then gave the other yearling a slight grin. "Lucky for you, I'm named Mercy." He said, a touch of humour to his voice.

MAGNOLIA Glen

TEMPLATE © NDA OF RCR & RPG-D

SCERAL AESIR-DONATA

THAT WHICH DOES NOT KILL US MAKES US STRONGER

“You're caught. Lucky for you, I'm named Mercy.”

Sceral lowered his paw and straightened himself out, offering a somewhat sheepish smile in response. He had a clear view of the stranger's face now, of the dark blue eyes that were locked on him. This guy … he looked nothing like the wolves Sceral had seen. He was so different to his family. Whilst he hadn't exactly travelled all over, the Aesir-Donata lad felt he knew the surrounding area well enough. The wolves he had seen were either white, black, tawny or coppery red, but this mix and match of colours had the pale yearling wondering where had Mercy come from?

“I s'pose so,” he responded, “Wasn't sure who you were 'n' figured maybe it'd be best to leave you be. That hasn't exactly worked out though.” He paused a moment, shifting his body slightly before continuing to his own introduction. “Name's Sceral; Sceral Aesir-Donata.” The pale yearling was tempted to toss in a flourish of “of Oak Tree Bend” but, honestly, he hadn't been doing a good job of being from Oak Tree Bend. So he left it out and felt a bitter emptiness sting the tip of his tongue. Glancing briefly to the sky, Sceral took note of where the moon sat in its arc above the world. He'd be back before morning, so he could take his time. Would @Serach be happy to get a proper, good look at his younger brother's face? Or @Triell?

“I've not seen you 'round here before,” he stated, taking a few steps towards Mercy. “Where y'from?”

Quick pronunciation question- Skee-ral? Skeh-rel? Sche-rel?

As soon as he saw the other boy relax slightly and don a guilty smile, Mercy felt better. He knew that the other could've retaliated with irritation or spite, but Mercy'd only been poking fun- and at himself, at that. He was aware that at the moment, he didn't look like someone who wasn't given to acts of mercy. He was still quite thin and had been staring up at the stars like someone who didn't have something better to do with their time. There was a bit of a dreamer left in Mercy, from his days as a pup, which hadn't gotten lost when he and Aponi had.

He was given a look, though, that said that either the yearling recognized something about him, or that he'd sprouted another head. Given that he highly doubted the latter and didn't feel an extra weight on his shoulders, he simply assumed that the boy was trying to figure out who he was- probably by his scent- and not making much of a connection. Maybe he'd never heard of Magnolia Glen, and he was trying to place the scent- or maybe Mercy still smelled a bit like Hollowheart Keep, a place that most wolves knew nothing about. Or that Mercy needed to take a bath. That was a possibility too.

His brow lifted at the boy's introduction. "That's quite a name you got there," He said, obviously quite impressed. Mercy had no surname, neither did his mother, as far as he knew. He was aware that Aponi had one, but she was a princess, and Karpos had once been a prince, so he'd had a surname as well. "Are you an heir or a prince?" He asked humbly. Sceral took a few steps forward and Mercy could see his features better; clear, patient brown eyes. Curious, thinking and very present. He looked thoughtful. Mercy shook his head. "I'm new to this area. Just came through over the mountains when the winter passed," He admitted. He wasn't going to mention Hollowheart Keep, as he knew the first rule of Hollowheart Keep was that you didn't talk about it.

MAGNOLIA Glen

TEMPLATE © NDA OF RCR & RPG-D

I've always gone with Skeh-ral personally.

SCERAL AESIR-DONATA

THAT WHICH DOES NOT KILL US MAKES US STRONGER

Sceral only knew the scent of Magnolia Glen somewhat, through his brief encounters and interactions. Once, he'd skirted to close to the borders and had been scented the freshness of the flowers in bloom. However, it was masked by a scent that the Aesir-Donata didn't recognise, and it threw him a little off beat. It smelt old against Mercy's silver-grey coat, as if he'd come from somewhere ancient and lonely. It was strange. Even stranger was the fact that Sceral hoped it'd disappear from the yearling's coat quickly. It didn't smell all too friendly.

It seemed Mercy was impressed with Sceral's name—his full name—and that restored a little bit of pride in the Oak wolf. It was an impressive name, he had to agree, and was one that he wanted to truly mean something in the future. He and Serach would make it that way, he was positive. Mercy's question threw Sceral once more and he hummed audibly as he thought, furrowing his brow in concentration. “Y'know, I don't … actually know. I'm not sure. A prince once, maybe, but never an heir. My mother told me that my brother 'n' I would become great leaders only through hard work.” Leadership wasn't a birth right, after all. You could be born a prince or a princess and still have to serve. Being born to the leader of Oak Tree Bend wasn't a guarantee he was automatically set to be the next King. Sceral laughed a little under his breath. “Maybe I'm just a knight or somethin' now.” A title he wouldn't mind holding onto.

So, Mercy came from the other side of the mountain? Sceral's muddy brown eyes drifted to the snow tipped caps, blinking as he wondered just what the wolves on the other side looked like. “Must've been a long trip,” he muttered, his gaze returning to the silver youth with a spark of curiosity. “Whassit like over there?”

Unlike Aponi who knew her heritage and birthright, Sceral didn't really seem to know whether he was an heir or a prince- thus Mercy judged that perhaps he'd been displaced from his home when he'd been younger, or had some reason to doubt his right. The fact that he might have been a prince once said enough- that something had happened and had caused him to lose touch with whatever hierarchy had been bestowed upon him by birth. He decided not to ask about it, knowing that doing so would likely give him an answer that made him feel sad. Truth be told, it seemed like most wolves lost their families- either they died, or they themselves left, or they lost their loved ones when a pack disbanded. It was a story that was familiar enough that Mercy decided not to press the issue further. He smiled fondly, though, at the mention of being a knight. "I think I'd prefer to be a knight than a prince," He answered honestly. And he was actually somewhat pleased to see that Sceral didn't seem to mind not knowing whether he was an heir or not- it made him seem humble, level-headed. Not rank-obsessed.

He gritted his teeth when Sceral looked at the mountain, but he nodded. "It was. Especially in winter," He admitted, the tone of his voice expressing some regret. It had been a tough time to travel, and even though they hadn't meant to journey through the mountain in the winter- save for the journey from Nomad's Pass to Hollowheart Keep, which he also regretted- he hadn't particularly enjoyed nearly starving to death. If it hadn't been for Aponi's company, he knew he would have died. The goal of keeping her alive had fuelled him, and tempered his wariness of the mountain somewhat.

Naturally, Mercy was guarded, and did not like the idea of speaking of Hollowheart Keep even when asked by so friendly a fellow as Sceral. Still, he didn't want to seem cold, so he tilted his head this way and that in thought. "Rocky," He answered honestly, and laughed slightly, knowing that that much was obvious. "I liked living near the mountain before the winter hit. The air was clean and cool, and sometimes you could climb up and all you would see would be clouds below you. The other side of the mountain is pretty much the same as it is here," He answered with a bit of a shrug. He didn't really notice too much of a difference between one side of the mountain and the other- woodlands, fens, bogs, grasslands- it was all the same to him. "Where d'you live?" He asked.

MAGNOLIA Glen

TEMPLATE © NDA OF RCR & RPG-D

SCERAL AESIR-DONATA

THAT WHICH DOES NOT KILL US MAKES US STRONGER

It was more of a case that Sceral had displaced himself. He had grown distant when Corinna passed away, leaving her two children orphans. Ice had left a long time before the lad's mother, something that he had grown accustomed to when growing up. There was so much in Oak Tree Bend that reminded him of his mum and Sceral wanted to preserve the memories he had of when she was alive. Perhaps that's why he returned to the territory more and more often. Spring was coming, and that meant happy memories would return. At least, he hoped. “Yeah, bein' a prince can be … borin', I guess.” My, how things had changed for Sceral. He'd always dreamed of being a leader and whilst that desire still lived somewhere deep within, a flicker of the wildfire it once was, he wasn't all that focused on it right now. He just wanted to show Triell and Serach he was sorry for leaving.

The lad couldn't imagine how difficult moving around on that mountain had been, especially with all the snow that had fallen. Sceral had once heard a distant rumble and when he had turned his head in the direction it came from, he was frozen with fright. It looked as if the mountain was melting, like the side of it was falling away. The wolf would've known it was called an avalanche if he had asked around. Instead, it remained a terrifying mystery that hinted at just how dangerous that mountain could be.

Mercy's description captured Sceral's imagination and he returned his gaze to the mountain. “Sounds amazin',” he uttered quietly, wondering just how small everything looked from up there. “I think I'd like t'go up there one day.” He looked back to Mercy with a trademark—yet not often seen—wolfish grin. This Mercy guy didn't seem all too bad. Besides, it was nice to meet someone the same age as him. Perhaps he could be a good enough friend? “I live not too far from here. Further down the Creek,” he lifted his paw to point, “that way.” He lowered his paw, glancing off in the direction he had gestured in. “Oak Tree Bend is what it's called.” Sceral paused a moment. “So, you're new here, yeah? Where d'ya live now then?”

Only once had he ever entertained the idea of being a king- and it was only when Aponi had said he would be one, when they claimed the mountain. All the same, he still liked the idea of being a knight more- as long as Aponi was queen and she took no king alongside her other than him. Sceral seemed to have the same point of view, which pleased Mercy. He'd disliked Aponi quite a bit when she'd been too full of herself, and when she'd treated him like nothing more than a mere peasant. Pride was an ugly thing, as was greed. But Sceral did not seem to host either of those qualities. He was nothing like Karpos, either- he wasn't brooding or selfish. Sceral was definitely a potential friend, something Mercy had not had in quite some time.

Sceral admitted that he one day wished to climb the mountain, and Mercy felt a strange, unfamiliar feeling. He wanted, in that moment, nothing more than to urge Sceral to join them. He wanted Sceral on their side; he could be a guardian, a hunter- he would definitely be useful. Mercy couldn't help but grin back at Sceral, having caught the contagious gesture from a young man who seemed more and more likeable as time went on. He tipped his head to the side in a friendly gesture. "I'll live there again someday." He said, and with an ambitious and sincere smile, he gave in to temptation. "I'll seek you out when I do." He didn't intend to go on and say that he was close to the heir of the mountain, and that they would claim it for their own, but he did want at least to plant the idea of living on the mountain in Sceral's head. "It's a good place." He said, tilting his head back as he looked up. Despite the harsh winter, it had been much more liveable than Hollowheart Keep had ever been.

And now he knew where to find Sceral when the time came- in Oak Tree Bend, a pack Mercy had never heard of before. He also gave away the direction it was in, which Mercy appreciated. And as his new pack seemed much more open to newcomers than Hollowheart Keep or Nomad's Pass, he felt secure enough in answering Sceral's question. "Magnolia Glen; near the creek," He said, gesturing in the direction. "And yes, I am new to the area. It's nice." He said, with an honest tone- it was much different, living in a place which was much more open and peaceful. It did his soul good.

MAGNOLIA Glen

TEMPLATE © NDA OF RCR & RPG-D

SCERAL AESIR-DONATA

THAT WHICH DOES NOT KILL US MAKES US STRONGER

Once upon a time, Sceral felt that both he and his brother would be entitled to Oak Tree Bend, that it was their birth right. Yet, one day, the little prince asked his mother if he would be the king of their homeland and her response had stuck with him, even to this day. You could be a leader one day. If you work hard and show that you're strong and smart, and you care about the pack. He had learnt, from an early age, that you weren't entitled to anything, even if your mother and father were the leaders. The cubs of loners could be just as capable as the cubs of monarchs. It was a nice, gentle and very quick lesson that Corinna had given her youngest son; the prince and the pauper were really not so different, after all.

Sceral grinned at Mercy's words. The grey yearling held determination in his voice and the Aesir-Donata son couldn't help but admire it. He nodded and chuckled. “You come find me an' I'll come up an' stay a while.” The adolescent wondered, would he ever leave his homeland in search of greener pastures? His family was there, despite the fact there wasn't much left of it. Still, Sceral couldn't imagine ever leaving home without having his brother go with him. The siblings had been so close, after all. He missed that tight bond. He needed to restore it.

Magnolia Glen! The Oak Tree Bend wolf smiled, his tail wagging slightly. “Ah, yeah! The Glen. I know someone from that pack,” he offered. “Listen, if y'see a girl there, 'bout our age—her name's Hypatia—can y'tell her that Sceral says hi?” He hoped that Mercy would pass the message on and that the copper furred Glen wolf was okay.

The conversation had stolen his attention away from the task he'd been originally focused on; catching a hare to take home. “I'm real sorry about cuttin' this short, Mercy, but I gotta get goin'. But, hey, good luck with the mountain an' y'new home. Hope it goes well.” With that, Sceral began to turn, glancing over his shoulder. “I'll see y'round sometime.” Maybe soon? With his bit said, he began his journey after the hare. And then? Home.

{Exit Sceral}