Umbra Copse become ocean

@Spieden
WC: 378

Ceara was hooked. Absolutely, undoubtedly hooked. Spieden had offered her a place within whatever pack she was a part of – well… sort of. Of course, the little she-wolf knew that some kind of a test would be in order to get into a new pack. She knew how packs worked. If you couldn’t provide something for the pack, then the pack provided nothing for you. Which was why she had been thrown from her old one, and had spent the last few months searching for a new one. She had learned much in those months, however, and was not quite so helpless as before.

“I may not be much of a fighter,” she piped up, trying to keep the trembling from her voice, “but I can run very far in a short amount of time, because I am so small and have less to carry. I could make a good scout, and would do well enough helping pack-mates in a hunt, chasing after prey and cornering it. I can also hunt smaller prey very well on my own.” She paused, trying to think of other good qualities. It took her a moment, and she sort of berated herself for not thinking of the most obvious traits first.

“As an Omega, I take my role as the pack’s tension-reliever quite seriously. As a pup, I would often break up disputes between my brothers by placing my body between theirs. I have many small nicks and scars from such times. They would use me to take out their anger, and I was often hurt for days afterwards. But they made me stronger for it, and I never minded. It always calmed them down so that we could all be productive members again. I suppose… that is my real job. I help members of the pack diffuse anger and stress, even if it causes me harm. I do not mind. It Is my life.”

Ceara was not often known for long speeches, and when she was done she felt rather awkward. Trying to sell herself so that she could be a member of a pack again was a weird experience for her. Omegas did not boast. Boasting was for Betas and Alphas. Not wolves like her. Never for wolves like her…

CEARA
The way she shows me I'm hers, and she is mine
Open hand or closed fist would be fine
The blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine

"Well I'm... I'm... Surprised." The Coho woman said with a snort, lifting a forepaw and absentmindedly pawing at the snow as she made a decision. Spieden found it utterly bizarre that the young wolf enjoyed such a task. The devotion was obvious in her voice, with a conviction Spieden hadn't yet heard from the meek female. A similar role had been Spieden's previous lot in life, though she was a prisoner rather than willingly serving the pack of Salmon River. She would almost rather die than take on the brunt of a pack's frustrations again. Even if Ceara loved doing such things, Spieden was hesitant to place the yearling to such a task. Even though Spieden's family was long gone, little more but a distant memory, the care shown between the members of the Bend pack was reminiscent of what a family could be. Frustrations did arise, but seldom to the point of violence.

"Oak Tree Bend isn't a violent pack, and if I see anyone ripping into a packmate like a rabbit... They wouldn't be a packmate for long." Spieden said, leaving an implicit double meaning. Left up to her, the offending member would be evicted, and if not, Spieden would me high-tailing it out of there. She had no intentions of living in a place where cruelty was condoned, not when she had a choice in the matter.

"But we still get stressed out, like any pack. If this is something you like, I think you could help. I just don't want to see you turn into a chew-bone. Of course, you'd be expected to work hard at everything else... Hunting, caching, patrolling. I don't care if you're skilled, as long as I don't see you just sitting on your butt when there's work to be done." Spieden said, falling quiet as she let the the decision rest on Ceara.

@Spieden
WC: 421

Ceara waited with bated breath for Spieden’s reply, which was slow in coming. She forced her nerves to settle, forced her body to calm. When the words finally came, she felt herself at once excited all over again, and relaxed. She didn’t have to worry anymore. She could rest easy for the first time in months. Nothing could bring her mood down now. She would be expected to work. Of course she would. All members of a pack had to be productive, had to help their fellow members. This was a given. She would do whatever she was told to do. She didn’t care what it was, as long as she was doing something.

Through Ceara’s excitement, she could tell that her words had made Spieden uncomfortable. She couldn’t help but smile when the bigger wolf told her that no one would be allowed to “rip into her like a rabbit.” Perhaps her own perception of what a pack should be had been wrong? Just because her brothers had treated her as a piece of meat didn’t mean all wolves would. This made her happy, though at the same time, it didn’t really matter. Again, she would do whatever was needed or wanted of her, regardless.

“I will do as much as I possibly can to help the… no, our pack flourish. If hunting, caching, and patrolling are necessary, I will do them. I will look after weaker members, like pups, too. I will also defend all members with my life. I may be small, and my fighting skills could use some work, but I promise I will learn. I will try my hardest at every task I am set with. This I swear.” She could go, she really could, but she stopped herself before she started to sound too preachy. Of course, she meant all of it – every word, but there was only so much she could say before she had said enough.

It was then, in the quiet, that she realized she had no idea what rank this wolf held. Out here, with no other pack members around, it was impossible to tell if this female was a high-ranking member or a low-ranking one. Not that it really mattered to Ceara. All members were higher-ranking than her, but she was still curious. And so she asked. “Since we are now pack-mates,” she began, voice waver-y and rather meek once more, “may I ask what rank you hold?” Little did she know she was, in fact, speaking to an Alpha.

(This post was last modified: Feb 09, 2015, 01:22 AM by Ceara.)

CEARA
The way she shows me I'm hers, and she is mine
Open hand or closed fist would be fine
The blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine

Spieden braced her paws up to the edge of the stream, her ample hind end swaying as she prepared to leap. Muscles coiled, then released to easily clear her over the thin, icy stream, landing solidly on the same side as Ceara. Tail swishing level with her back, Spieden looked Ceara in the eye, for the first time seeing up-close that they were slightly mismatched in color. Reaching out with her jaws, she mouthed the top of Ceara's muzzle, then brushed the side of her neck shoulder against Ceara's. Just as quickly, she pulled away. Her skin crawled with the contact, but she knew the formality had to be done, both a small display of dominance and acceptance, as well as giving the new member the pack's scent.

A bemused expression crossed Spieden's face as Ceara asked what her rank was. Some wolves seemed to exude the sort of spirit of being a leader. Spieden thought Triell was one such a wolf. For good or ill, it seemed Spieden didn't have an aura like that. "Guess I don't look it, but I'm a leader, beside Triell Tainn. Not something I ever thought I'd do, but..." Spieden said with a shrug of her wide shoulders. She was just doing what she needed to do. She had always thought of herself as rather timid, but was beginning to realize there was an assertive side of her that had just been waiting to be freed. She wondered if Ceara would come out of her shell a bit more once she had a place to spread her wings.

"S'pose I should walk you to the territory then?" Spieden said, her eyebrow quirking. Was that the right thing to say at this point? This whole accepting members thing was still a bit new and somewhat confusing to her, and really she was just winging it. Hardly waiting for an answer, Spieden set off, leading the newest packmate home.

{Fade out}

(This post was last modified: Feb 12, 2015, 07:02 AM by Spieden.)