Iridescent Lagoon the lights go out, the bridges burn

Random Event: Rook, you have come across the sun-bleached bones of a deceased wolf.

October 2nd; Late afternoon; Clear; 29° F/-2° C

As was customary for a yearling without much to do, Rook's feet brought him to his favorite thinking place: the Iridescent Lagoon, just hours before sunset. A rabbit he had caught in the coolness of morning had been cached away for someone whose pack duties and sense of responsibility often kept them well away from the thought of breakfast, lunch, or dinner. He, on the other hand, was still full from what he had stomached just the other day; it was not much but it surprised him that a bit of squirrel had gone quite a long way. While he had thought to try again at fishing, he brushed the thought away; Namid and Lady Narimé's instructions were nothing but encouraging, but he had yet to prove to them that he could snatch up a catfish or two on his own. The more his nose twitched the more his interest piqued. Something was not right here, but what, the yearling had yet to find...

He went along the water's edge, an apparent scowl on his masked face. On one hand, the scent around the area was familiar; on the other, the faint traces of decay wafting in his direction was utterly abhorrent. The smell began to hang heavily in the air the further he went, but it wasn't long until he discovered what and why the bridge of his muzzle would just not smooth out. What looked like a partial skeleton of a petite, four-legged creature now rested on the pebbled bank where there had been nothing else but dry driftwood and dust-covered stones only the day before.

For a time, Rook stared at it, drawing close enough to discern that the bones were indeed of the canine variety. He grimaced as he stared at the whiteness of her temple, the smoothness of her teeth. A few of her curved ribs were barely longer than his forearms; and, what he assumed to be her forearm (at least, it looked like a radius and an ulna), were small and brittle-looking. Clearly, she had been much younger than he was when she had died, maybe only six or seven months old. A small whine escaped past his lips and he briefly pressed his lips to her crown and trailed the tip of his nose down the vertebrae of what had once been her neck or back. He thought of the older brothers he never had the chance to meet and, knowing of their stories (the thrill of adventure and the danger of rattling snakes), wondered if this cub's mother still lingered within Relic Lore in search of her child. His lips pursed as he withdrew from her and his large ears drew back.

His posture straightened and, with one fluid movement, he looked over both of his agouti-furred shoulders before turning around and digging his paws into the ground. Back home, in Renegade's Reach, death had yet to touch his family, but due to his religious upbringing and the lessons he had been taught as a cub, he knew better than to leave her bones out in the open. He trembled a bit as he began to fashion a makeshift grave for the young girl that had washed up from the depths of the still, dark pool; his eyes momentarily went to the sky, as if he were looking for a sign from the Spirit. The cool autumn breeze brushed again his ears and he thought he had heard something...

"You are such a moron... Leave."

Rook blinked for a time as he scanned his surroundings, but he found no one lingering nearby. He shook his head and went back to work, using the brawn and muscle in his arms and shoulders now to its full extent as he pushed the unearthed heaps of loamy soil away. Perhaps when he was done he would receive a sign, a signal that he had done well in laying a moderate portion of Malia Thorben's body to rest. For now, though, he had a task to complete and he would not leave until he was done.

Chances are I have a BEN WHISHAW gif for that.

Rais was drawn towards the peculiar odor of death much like a vulture would be. Usually he followed the rancid scent with a goal of filling his often empty belly. From what he remembered, he was pretty sure the scent was leading him towards one of the larger lakes of Relic Lore. Like any good scavenger he recognized what the scent belonged to quickly enough, which turned out to be something he definitely did not want to eat: wolf. It was doubly unfortunate, both in that some poor wolf had lost their life, and that Rais wouldn't be able to make a meal of it.

Pausing in the cover of the sparse forest surrounding the lake, Rais spyed a wolf digging a hole, and just a bit past him the white jagged shape of a skeleton. It only took a second for Rais to piece the picture together, that the wolf was digging a grave for the pile of bones. It seemed sort of late to have a funeral when the deceased was already bones.

Curiosity getting the best of him, Rais loped towards the digging wolf. He stopped close enough to talk, but far enough to back off if they weren't so receptive to his sudden appearance. His eyes flicked over the wolf, the bones, and the grave, then back to the wolf.

"If the lake didn't want her, why do you think the ground would?" He asked, his round head tilted to the side as if he were just curious, but if one looked closely enough they might find a spark in his tangerine eyes. It wasn't particularly polite, or respectful, but Rais wasn't particularly concerned with being either. At least not when pulling someone's leg seemed more amusing.

"If you don't dig deep enough, those old bones might just surprise you and dig themselves back out. It is the right time of year for that sort of thing, isn't it?" Seemingly unable to hold himself back now, his crooked teeth flashed in a grin. Though larger than him, the male seemed to be of a younger sort, and Rais sincerely hoped it might just rattle the youth. Ghosts and ghouls existed in word as much as they did in anything else. Really, he was just doing his part to keep the tradition going.

"If the lake didn't want her, why do you think the ground would?" Rook had been so preoccupied with making the hole he was making both wide and deep enough for what the Lagoon had rejected that, when the voice of another sharply caught his eardrums, he jumped. Whipping his head up and towards the side, he came face to face with a bright-eyed man. Judging by the scent of him and the way his lean legs managed to keep him propped up, Rook could only make assumptions that the man belonged to no one, was no one's keeper, and was ultimately the sort he ought to be cautious about. Much unlike his previous encounters - with Beren, Namid, the girl in the willows, and that first girl he had met in the Blackberry Fields to the north, to name a few... - the rogue continued to speak, his teasing truly getting the best of the young Lyall whose religious superstitions began to nag at him from the back of his skull.

"Per-haps," he answered, everything about his tone hinting at his uncertainty of the idea of the girl's bones digging themselves back up to the surface. When prompted about the time of year and the change of seasons, he was briefly brought back to his upbringing in the Reach, to the very words that had once spewed out from the lips of the pack's family friend, a minister of sorts whose deity-guided sermons gave Rook a sound foundation to plant his beliefs and morals. "All Souls Day is a holy day, though," he countered to the best of his ability, his wavering voice failing to keep steady. "The least I can do is preserve her, spare what's left of her from the crows." A brief pause had him wincing back into the stranger's face, his task at hand stalled in the meantime while this brute was smirking and grinning before him.

Before he could even stop himself, his question had been voiced, "Did you know her?" He really wished he hadn't asked; for all Rook knew, he could have been Malia's killer's next target. Something within him granted him strength to square his shoulders, to physically show the male that he still had his wits about him (despite whatever naivety he might have harbored or already shown).

Chances are I have a BEN WHISHAW gif for that.

"Hole-y indeed." Rais remarked, eyeing the freshly dug pit between them. If the boy wanted to content himself with a more pleasant view of whatever shenanigans skeletons got up to in their spare time, he'd let him have it.

Rais' head crooked the other way at the sudden question, again tilted but this time to the opposite side. He considered the boy's query, bright eyes roving over towards the skeletal remains as if the waterlogged bones might have the answer written on them. With most of the flesh gone and not even a curl of fur from whoever these bones belonged to, it would be difficult to say for sure either way. Considering how long he'd been gone and what he might have missed, it wasn't impossible that it was someone he had known, at least in passing.

Rais had to wonder just how a wolf would end up in a lake like that. However it happened didn't sound pleasant. And what were the chances this well-meaning wolf would know, either? Of course, he could just ask the yearling if he actually knew who this was and just liked to quiz strangers, but where was the fun in that? The male's defensive stance tempted Rais to poke a bit further.

"Hmm. I'm not sure... Maybe." He said, faltering and hesitant as he looked back to the yearling. Rais' brows furrowed in thought, and then his already round eyes widened a touch further as if he seemed to suddenly remember something.

"Actually, yeah, thinking about it... Shit." Rais said with a grimace. He grew even more fidgety than he normally was, ashen forepaws treading uncomfortably in place. He glanced down at the bones, then back to the male's mismatched eyes. "That's just... It's messed up. It's not like I could have done anything about it, though." He said with a shudder, remaining delightfully vague as his black snout wrinkled in disgust.

The gangly rogue's pun was not well-received by the youth; actually, he had missed it, thinking that Rais had echoed what he had said as to outright mock him. Rook held his tongue though, knowing better than to let his temper run off with him over a stranger's remark. The man grimaced then and the Lyall, who was already at the edge of his seat, fought the urge to cringe as he absentmindedly pushed a small mound of silt aside. He had known her, or so Rook believed, and he supposed he couldn't have done anything to prevent her premature demise.

There were several things that he could have done: called a medic, used pressure to force the water from her throat and lungs, maybe even done something as simple as diving in after her; but something about the stranger now had Rook nearly second-guessing himself. He forced himself to keep digging and keep his attention on the task at hand. According to what he had been brought up to believe, some souls were not meant to survive. Perhaps this girl had fulfilled her calling much earlier than expected and had been called back home to spare her the trouble of growing old and continually searching for her destiny when it had already unfurled before her. As far as Rook was now concerned, he merely wanted to put her to rest, say a prayer, and be done with it all. She had probably already found her place in Heaven; her bones, on the other hand, just needed a place to remain until they returned to the earth.

"So, what brings you to the Lagoon?" he asked in an offhanded manner, bringing more mud and sediment up to the surface pebbled shore without casting even a second glance at the unsettling onlooker.

Chances are I have a BEN WHISHAW gif for that.

Rais couldn't help but be disappointed when he failed to visibly get the youth's goat. He would just have to try harder, then. Rais continued to watch as the wolf kept on with his excavation. It was starting to irritate Rais how long the kid was taking, and while it was something the little thief would have made quick work of, he made no move to offer help. Rais didn't particularly care either way if she got buried, the crows or the worms would get to the remains either way.

The question the odd-eyed wolf asked was so plain to Rais it bordered on boring. Just because it was a boring question didn't mean it deserved a boring answer, however. "Oh, you know, just seeing what the locals are up to nowadays." He started off airily, wobbling his head and shoulders in a nonchalant gesture. He suddenly stilled, staring the yearling in the eye, whether or not he would meet his gaze. "You know, I had a feeling she'd be here." He mentioned, with a pointed look at the bones in reference to the 'she'. "A whisper on the wind, if you will." Both corners of his mouth quirked upward, though it wasn't entirely clear what it was he was smirking at. "That's why you're here too, right? She can't have been up for long. A few hours, a day too late, and some raccoon would have carted her off into the woods. It can't be a coincidence, that we're both here. No... That all three of us are here."

"Oh, you know, just seeing what the locals are up to nowadays," the rogue had said. Rook didn't even have to look at his face to glean the eeriness that radiated from his voice, his eyes, the whole of his lean, wiry body. It made a shiver run down the length of the yearling's spine; Rook had to stop what he was doing and listen for a moment. Three of us, he had said. The three of them were there. Together. The young Lyall might as well have been considered a bit... stupid; even with his reputation of being sociable and quick to adapt to a number of gregarious encounters, none would have prepared him for something like this. Rais, it would seem, would continue to have the upper hand from here on out.

"What do you mean?" he asked quietly, looking up at last from his elbow-deep grave. "'We...?'" The corners of his mouth twitched and he forced himself to glimpse into the man's fiery orange eyes. He didn't really mean that this departed soul still remained among the living, now did he? Passages from Reverend Kiche's (broken and sometimes garbled and frenzied) sermons came to mind. Matthew 18:14, Deuteronomy 31:8, Luke 20:36... What the numbers had meant, Rook had no idea, but he had known the passages by heart. According to Rook's established beliefs, the girl, Malia, was not here; whatever the brute was implying was distressing him.

"She isn't here," he murmured, telling himself for the most part. He winced, grinding his molars together at the back of his jaw as he slowly stepped out of the depression he had made in the ground, "Do you want her? Is that... Is that what you want?"

(This post was last modified: Oct 13, 2014, 05:10 AM by Rook.)

Chances are I have a BEN WHISHAW gif for that.

Behind the intensity of his gaze, Rais was truly watching the other wolf very closely. The younger wolf had stopped his digging, and Rais could almost see the cogs spinning behind those masked features. Rais couldn't tell what was going through the other's mind, though what he would give to be a mind reader! Confusion was all Rais could have hoped for, and he planned to stir up much more.

"Oh, heavens, no." Rais shook his head, a small laugh as if what the boy had said was somewhat foolish. "There's nothing I want. But are you so sure she's not here? I mean..." Rais winced, tufted ears folding and his tongue poking out from between his incisors distastefully before he continued, "It's a bit rude to say that, isn't it? She's right there and you're going to ignore her like that? I'd sooner ask what it is she wants, seeing as she made the journey up here to see us." His eyes flashed, and as he rocked to and fro he finally moved forward, walking past Rook and towards the remains before stopping suddenly just before the skull.

This was all getting a bit odd, even for Rais. But if it was strange for him, it would certainly be disconcerting for this stranger, and that was what kept him going. Rais reached his rotund head down and stared silently into the dark sockets for a few silent moments. "So what is it you've come here for?" He asked, his voice soft. He nodded slightly, once, then twice. "Ah... Is that so... Well, then..."

The boy forced himself to pull up another small mound of soil before he stopped again. The rogue implying that the girl truly was with them, right here and right now in this very moment, made him tense. Perhaps it was a bit rude, but Rook had not believed in the possibility of ghosts until his fellow had come along. He sniffed in uncertainty, jumping when Rais actually moved to draw the yearling's attention to the skull on the shore. Upon being asked if he had had the nerve to ignore her, Rook immediately shook his head. The ears atop his crown even wobbled this way and that. Truly, he had meant no harm, but apparently had had offended both the stranger and the departed.

Oops.

A small whine filtered through his nostrils and he watched and listening intently to the orange-eyed brute. He stiffly backed away from them and the hole he had created. Gone was the dutiful, social creature that was the characteristic Rook anyone else usually met; and, in his place, was the last-born cub, the baby of the family, whose every cry would be answered and every whimper would be soothed with a kiss to the forehead. His bushy tail tucked up against his belly as he leaned back to cower.

The stranger began to question the girl, his voice like silk and velvet in his ears. It was unsettling... Absolutely nothing like he had ever heard before in his inexperienced life of exploring and traveling. It seemed that she had answered him and he retorted, "Ah... Is that so... Well, then..."

Instinctively, Rook's eyes went to his left then to his right, as if his sister Bishop might just suddenly appear from somehow knowing that her twin was in distress. He tried hard not to wince, but the frown lines on his face were already more than apparent. "I'm, uh...." he started, his voice soft and obviously frightened. "If you'll excuse me, I'll... I'm going to leave you two in peace." He hastily added with a backward step, "I didn't mean to bother."

He glimpsed at the unfinished grave he had started then wrinkled his nose. So much for trying to do a good deed. Maybe she hadn't wanted to be put to rest after all. At least, maybe according to this guy if Rook's assumptions were correct. But before Rais could open his mouth, Rook clumsily turned around, tripping over his muddied paws once before scampering back towards the Caverns. Whatever might have been yelled in his direction after him could have been taken to both heart and mind, but one thing was for sure, the Lyall would not be coming back to the Lagoon for quite some time.

Perhaps, in this instance, he was a moron... and, perhaps, he should have left little miss Malia Thorben alone.

There is a family of deer nearby. Hunt Opportunity