Cold Water Creek I Dreamed of Something Greater

For @Spieden
- Late afternoon, Sunny - 74 ° F/24 ° C

Another sunny summer day, another pointless patrol along the border. The line was well maintained, and it was unbroken, no one had entered their land unauthorized; We have no enemies left. Oak Tree Bend had slain the monsters, they had won; But at what cost? Nayeli was gone again, @Hotei was dead; Silver... What did victory matter with such loss? And now there was nothing for him to do, no enemies to keep at bay, no one to spy at or drive off; Nothing! In the spirit of Hotei's memory, Drestig had taken to patrolling the borders, devoting himself to protecting what was left of his pack, guarding the lands from imaginary dangers.

But as the days passed, the dark scout began to miss his trips out into the land, the old wanderlust starting to stir deep inside him, somewhere below the heavy cloud of sorrow. He was not meant for guardian duty, the monotones life of patrols and protection only driving him further into his depression. He needed excitement, adventure; Challenge! With the pack weak and it's protector gone, Drestig had put it upon himself to help maintain the border, but he still aspired to become a scout, and now that everything was settling down after the chaos of spring, and he was slowly fighting his way back from the deepest part of his sorrow, the dream was making itself known once more. Life went on, even if it seemed impossible, the world kept turning, and he was beginning to realize that he needed to move with it, or he would be left behind.

Today, like many days before, these thoughts were brewing inside him as he trotted along the outskirts of the Bend, eyes and nose absently tracing the usual markers, automatically registering that nothing was amiss and moving on. Only a change in the familiar scenery could draw him from his ponderings, a change like the unexpected trickle of water in the distance. The ebony man froze, flicking his ears attentively as he listened for the low hum; Did there used to be water here? He didn't think so. Maybe an obstruction somewhere upstream had lead the water from one of the well known streams down a new path, or perhaps Triell or Spieden had expanded the border slightly, bringing him within earshot of an unknown water source. Regardless, a long lost urge to explore was awakened in the lad's chest, drawing him away from the border and further into the woods, nose ears and tail all quivering curiously.

The source of his interest lay only a few leaps away, hidden by a broad belt of dense bushes. A thin line of water, shimmering like silver as it ran swiftly over a bed of multicolored pebbles. The trickling sound made a sudden thirst ache in Drestig's throat, and he bowed down to taste the fresh water, wincing at the freezing touch against his tongue. Despite it being the height of summer, the creek was ice cold, making his teeth ache faintly as he drank; Must be mountain water... He pondered, part of him longing to trek out along the stream, and find out for himself, where it came from.

Word count: 532

"Speech" Thoughts

WHEN YOUR DREAMS ALL FAIL,

AND THE ONES WE HAIL,

Drestig Avalon

ARE THE WORST OF ALL,

AND THE BLOOD'S RUN STALE.

@Drestig

Spieden Coho

A jaunt through the territory to refresh its boundaries brought Spieden across something rather odd. She stopped in her tracks, head tilted  in confusion, first one way, then the other, as she stared at a stream where there had been none before. She was quite sure of it, the fisherwoman knew her land's waters like the back of her paw, and this little stream looked brand new. Nothing live stirred in it's depths, and the stones that crested it's shimmering surface lacked the plush green coat of moss or brown crust of algae that the rest of the territory's waters harbored. 

As she was examining the peculiar sight, a familiar scent caught her senses: Drestig. Much like the rest of the Bend's wolves, he was someone she hadn't spoken to much. It was really something she needed to change. She had wondered how he was getting along, she didn't know what sort of relationship he had with Silver but how profoundly he had taken her loss had given Spieden some clue. She was ashamed she knew so little about her packmates. She hadn't even introduced herself to Silver before the woman was so roughly torn from the world. She knew she really needed to get around to actually knowing her packmates, and now that the cubs were getting a little more independent, that was no longer an excuse. She followed Drestig's scent upstream, conspicuous by her heavy-footed tread and careless shoving through the understory's foliage.

"It's weird, huh?" Spieden said to Drestig as she roughly pressed through the hedge that separated them, coming to a stop at his side. "The damn thing just sprang up overnight. Either a gift from Raven or a trick from Coyote, hard telling which." She said with a snort, bright amber eyes glancing towards the male.

The sound of paws crashing through the underbrush broke through his thoughts, his head lifting from the water in alert. Whoever was approaching was not making any attempt at subtlety, the ebony scout's ears easily zeroing in on the direction, and he turned to face the arriving creature. Oddly enough, the ungentle trudge appeased him somewhat; Can't be an ambush with all that noise now can it? And this close to the borders, he felt the protection of the pack. The thought that it could be something so dangerous that it didn't bother to be quiet didn't even cross his mind - he wasn't exactly at his sharpest in these times - and lucky for him it wasn't. It was Spieden.

The sight of his female leader rather surprised the slender man, while she no-doubt carried her weight and took care of the pack like a dutiful leader, his interactions with her had been few and short, and he had the general impression that she was somewhat of a recluse. He didn't dislike her, he didn't know her, but she certainly didn't have his respect in the way Triell did. Now she suddenly stood beside her, commenting on the strange little creek like the two of them were old friends. Drestig looked at her with brows slightly wrinkled, trying to figure out exactly how to answer. Finally, he shook out his fur, lowering his muzzle back towards the water. "Yeah," He said, voice muted, he didn't have the energy to be sly today; "I was wondering where it came from, tastes like fresh melt-water." He cast a new glance up along the stream, feeling that tuck again; I could go check, just a few miles...

A fresh crease formed between his eyes, deeper this time, and he sighed lightly; But I'm needed here. The ebony chap looked back up at the plump woman, one wrinkled brow slightly raised as he replayed her comment in his head. "What did you say?" He asked, a little more life in his voice this time as curiosity began to stir in his chest, if he couldn't investigate the creek, then he could at least probe his bulky alphess a little; It's about time we got to know each other. "About ravens and coyotes?" He lifted himself up and leaned back, sitting down on the river bank and looking directly at Spieden, finally giving her his full attention. The wanderer's old excitement at anything new was finally rearing its head again.

Word count: 416

"Speech" Thoughts

WHEN YOUR DREAMS ALL FAIL,

AND THE ONES WE HAIL,

Drestig Avalon

ARE THE WORST OF ALL,

AND THE BLOOD'S RUN STALE.

@Drestig

Spieden Coho

The slight smile on Spieden's greyed lips faltered as Drestig asked what she'd said. "No, no, not ravens and coyotes, Raven and Coyote." She annunciated, thinking he had just misheard her. She looked at him, his full attention turned towards her with a rather uncomfortable intensity, sitting and clearly listening to her fully now. She expected there to be some light of recognition in the depths of the male's orange eyes, some flicker across his features to indicate that he had understood her. A second passed followed by a sinking feeling that settled in her gut.

Her crooked ears flicked sideways, her mouth twitching in a disconcerted line as she hesitated. Did he not know about Raven and Coyote? Spieden had little experience with the world at large. She had taken for granted just how uncommon her spiritual beliefs were out here, did not know that the rites and stories passed down through her family stood in isolation. Of course, once her birth pack had been corrupted by Lila's commanding paw, it had all been regaled to childish superstition and banned at even the slightest mention. Spieden had figured that it was more out of contempt for her and anything her parents had stood for than anything else. They would have sworn the sky was green just to spite her.

Spieden's tongue flicked nervously out of her mouth, running over the top of her nose and down the side of her lips. She felt she owed some sort of explanation to her subordinate. "You know, it's like, uhm..."She started then stalled, trying to put any of this into words that didn't make her sound stark raving mad. "All the coyotes and ravens, their ancestor is Coyote and Raven, you see? And Coyote likes to play tricks, mess stuff up for us. Raven can be tricky, too, but he likes to help." She explained, watching Drestig's face for understanding, disdain, or anything in between.

His question seemed to perplex her just as much as her statement had him. The attempt at clarification only made his dark brows furrow further; Raven? Coyote?! She said them like they were names; But who in their right mind would ever name anyone COYOTE?! Drestig's childhood had not exactly been rich in culture. Whatever beliefs his parents might have held had died with them, any stories they might have told, lost in the blurred memories of puphood. And the group he had run with in his adolescence hadn't contributed much in that direction either; they were young males, more taken by competition, hunting and brawling, than any kind of religion. Except Galley... He had introduced Oliver to some sort of spirituality, taught him about things Drestig never even knew he cared about. Towards him, Galley had never been that deep, a great comrade, a brother in hunt and battle; Yet he never spoke of any of THAT! As a result of this childhood, the last Avalon was a mostly pragmatic wolf, his idea's of the world based mostly in fact, with no belief in a higher power. What had overcome Oak Tree Bend in this past year had been horrible, deeply unfortunate, but nothing more than that; Just bad luck. The work of evil wolves yes, but simply that, wolves, nothing controlled by any superior force or god; No matter what they believed themselves!

The black and silver man watched his leader closely as she seemed to struggle with herself, dark lips squeezed into a line. He didn't know what thoughts his question might have spurred in her, just like he didn't know what to think himself. There was something about Spieden that had always seemed awkward, she was a good leader, looking very well after the pack, especially considering the circumstances around her accession, but socially she seemed reclusive, almost odd; Not the best characteristic for a leader. Of course, if he didn't make an attempt at getting to know her better, he couldn't exactly blame her for being the one that avoided contact. So he tried to remain open as he waited, ears pointing forwards in polite attention; So correct, what had happened to me?!

Finally the mottled woman spoke again, voice hesitant, clearly insecure, like she was afraid of how he might react. Her explanation made his fiery eyes widen, brows lifting in a surprised expression; "Oh." He simply breathed, trying to figure out what else to say. The idea she laid before him was so unfamiliar it left his mind completely blank; Ancestors, tricks..? It made his brows start to furrow again. He knew about the troubles coyote's could cause, but he sensed there was much more to what Spieden was saying, something too ethereal for his practical mind to grasp; Like the gift of the raven... And then it struck him. While his band of loners had not spend much time exploring any spiritual ideas, they had enjoyed storytelling! Many a cold, hungry night had been endured with fables and tales of past battles and hunts between the young wolves. One of those stories now came to his mind, in fact, one Galley had told on a particularly tough night.

The ebony scout closed his eyes for a moment, forehead wrinkled in thought, licking his lips not unlike the lighter woman had done moments earlier. When he opened his eyes again, he was looking down at the creek, ears hesitantly flattened to the sides. There was insecurity in his voice as well as he began to talk: "I heard a story once, about ravens helping wolves." He looked back up at Spieden, a strange expression on his face, almost searching, begging, like he needed something from her; "Some wolves had been out searching for herds all winter without luck. They had wandered very far without finding any signs of prey and were starting to lose hope of survival. Then one day, one of them heard a raven calling out and saw it circling in the distance. It almost sounded like a wolf he said, calling: 'here, here!' So he followed its call, and found a dead caribou, big enough to feed them all." He finished, swallowing. Embarrassment filled him and he straightened his back, clearing his throat; Why did I tell her that?! It was just a story after all, and one he had heard a very long time ago, a time he mostly wanted to forget. Still, something had made him want to tell her that, rather than dismiss her odd beliefs. What was wrong with him today?

Word count: 765

"Speech" Thoughts

WHEN YOUR DREAMS ALL FAIL,

AND THE ONES WE HAIL,

Drestig Avalon

ARE THE WORST OF ALL,

AND THE BLOOD'S RUN STALE.

@Drestig Sorry this took so long!

Spieden Coho

Watching for his expression, Spieden couldn't help but feel slightly crestfallen as the male's brows lifted in surprise, an indiscernible sigh slipping from his lips. The warm flush of embarrassment warmed the skin beneath the grey flecked fur of her cheeks. Maybe Lila had been right, that it was all just cub's tales.

Spieden shifted in her spot, considering simply slipping away before Drestig reopened his eyes to save herself from more embarrassment. But stubbornly she remained, and noted the Avalon was more reserved as he spoke. His tale was not unfamiliar, stories of Raven helping the lost or starving. Her tail swished against the shore, the typically reserved woman showing some semblance of excitement at Drestig's story.

"Yes! Yes, that would be just like Raven." She said, a small smile cracking her usually stoic jawline. "Actually... I think I've seen him here," She started, testing the waters at first. If Drestig didn't think she was bonkers yet, Spieden was sure he would now. "I had come across Sceral, and a raven... It was so strange, it was like the bird was talking to him. It danced around, like it was leading him somewhere. I followed them... Maybe I shouldnt've... But they ended up at Corinna's grave." Spieden admitted, somewhat sheepishly, her ears flicking towards the side of her head and gaze shifting downwards momentarily. She still felt a bit guilty for following Serach, and watching the whole thing had made her feel like she had witnessed something private, that wasn't meant for her. She had never shared the strange scene with anyone else before and felt vulnerable having told it.

She paused, her head tilting and brows raised as she looked back up to Drestig, "It's so strange, isn't it? How would a bird know where she was buried, and take her son there? I don't know, I can't say for sure if it was him, but what else could it have been but Raven himself?" She wasn't sure if Drestig would understand, but then Spieden wasn't sure she understood it all herself. There was no one left for her to ask about these things, and she could only puzzle together what she had.

(This post was last modified: Aug 13, 2015, 01:07 AM by Spieden.)

When he saw the mottled woman's excitement, Drestig agreed with himself that he had been right to tell the story; Whatever made me do it... She seemed more comfortable now, and even smiled faintly as she continued, making the ebony scout smile back. There was a bright light in her amber eyes as she told her story, and Drestig listened with his head tilted slightly, bemused by this, small yet radical change in his female leader. The tale drew him in, the mention of Sceral making his brows furrow, no one had heard from the younger Donata son since winter, in fact this might very well have been one of the last sittings of him before his disappearance! The dark chap shuffled a little on the spot, inadvertently leaning in a little closer as Spieden spoke; Corinna's grave?! The story seemed to incredible to be true, this was not a tale told between young wolves at night, but a recounting of current events. It was obvious though, that the bistre woman was uncomfortable admitting that she had followed the boy, which made Drestig believe she was telling the truth.

His expression was a mixed mask of wonder, amusement and skepticism, eyes pinned on Spieden as she seemed to glance away in embarrassment. He didn't know what to think, the concept of some superior power using other animals to, help? wolves was utterly baffling to him, but it was clear enough that Spieden believed in it. That was why it was so strange when she met his eyes again, her question seeming to challenge that very belief. Had Drestig been more used to devout  wolves, who would have recognized just how odd that was. Now though, all he could do was speak his mind, while trying to remain open to her ideas; "I don't know what to believe," He started simply, straightening himself up to look at her with a serious, yet open expression; "I can't say I've ever thought of that before, someone else watching... Other than that one story I've never heard about anything like that." He smiled a little crookedly, waving an ear in a playful manner as he added; "Except for now."

The dark man shrugged his shoulders, clearing his throat lightly as he looked out over the trickling creek. He couldn't easily accept this idea, he had seen too many horrors with too few blessings to truly believe that any benevolent being was watching over him. On the other hand, to think that everything had a reason, that whatever happened was part f some bigger plan, guided by some superior force; It's comforting... He couldn't say either way, he was nowhere near ready to start worshipping these spirits but; "Perhaps there is more to this world..." The words were mumbled, thoughts drifting as his eyes trailed the water; But what could the point possibly be?

Word count: 479

"Speech" Thoughts

WHEN YOUR DREAMS ALL FAIL,

AND THE ONES WE HAIL,

Drestig Avalon

ARE THE WORST OF ALL,

AND THE BLOOD'S RUN STALE.

A young deer has been separated from the rest of its herd. Hunt Opportunity

@Drestig One more post each? 

Spieden Coho

It was mildly reassuring that Drestig didn't crack up laughing or run off into the hills screaming after listening to her strange tale of Serach and the raven. He didn't look entirely convinced, but was either open minded enough or polite enough to give it some thought. The Avalon male looked about her age, maybe even older, so she was surprised that he seemed rather undecided on it all. She wondered what the man did believe in, if anything, but decided it would be better not to prod. Poor Darrah had already endured one of her inadvertent interrogations, she didn't need to submit Drestig to one too.

Spieden followed his gaze towards the creek, the reason they were both here. Seemingly it took strange occurrences to bring the Bend wolves together. Spieden figured a whole volcano would have to spring up in the middle of the forest to bring the entire pack together at once, though. "Spirits or not, this stream must come from somewhere, huh?" She said. Spieden stood up, stretching her stiff hind legs out behind her to work out the knots. "I'd love to go see where starts, but..." She rolled her shoulders in a shrug, "Gotta keep an eye on the cubs and all that," She said with a sigh. Only a little longer, she told herself. They could be weaned soon and she wouldn't have to be trapped within the borders as their sole lifeline... How any females willingly signed themselves up for this Spieden had no idea.

@Spieden sounds good ^^

As the silence stretched and ember eyes lazily trailed the water, trickling hastily along, his thoughts too began to wander. He'd probably never become truly devoted to anything, but still, he found himself slightly comforted by the conversation. Though he doubted that any spirits had decided to bend the water in this direction, or send demons the same way for that matter, he liked the idea of something bigger out there, somehow. It made everything easier to bare, considering how small it was in the bigger picture. A subtle smile curved his lips; Who would have thought... Despite the weird turn of their, slightly awkward, conversation, it seemed Drestig would be taking something away from it after all.

And then, like on some mutual signal, they both stood, Spieden offering a clear conclusion to the chat; Her comment eerily echoing her darker companions own thoughts. Drestig laughed under his breath, turning his gaze on the rotund woman as she lamented her inability to go investigate the creek further. He smiled warmly, completely missing her reluctant tone as she mentioned the pups, instead almost envying her connection to the young; Though I'm happy she was there to take over... He could never forgive Nayeli for abandoning her children; AGAIN! But luckily Spieden had been there for them.

Though there was something, maybe it was the sigh, or the look in her eyes when he briefly met them, that caused him to pause. Tilting his head slightly, the raven pelted male noted the lines on his leaders face, just the faintest hint of bags under her eyes. He glanced one last time at the mysterious creek, then pursed his lips. Then he made a decision, and pushed aside his urge to investigate the water further, smiling kindly at Spieden as he instead offered: "I'll patrol the borders." He spoke decidedly, a small twinkle in his eye, tail waving lazily behind him. Uncharacteristically, he was oddly eager to help.

Word count: 326

"Speech" Thoughts

WHEN YOUR DREAMS ALL FAIL,

AND THE ONES WE HAIL,

Drestig Avalon

ARE THE WORST OF ALL,

AND THE BLOOD'S RUN STALE.