Hearthwood River sail with me into the dark

At the age of twelve weeks, Lekalta was beginning to come out of her shyness and see the world with unleashed exuberance. Kisla spent much of her time rounding up the little scamper, ushering her back to the rendezvous site and trying to keep tabs on her. Often times, she would attempt to lure Inna in to the same mischief.

This day, the cub was nestled in some long grass, which elicited a loud sneeze from her as it tickled her nose. Offering a soft, puppy growl, Lekalta took a swat at the offender before letting her jowls loose upon it – snagging it with her teeth and pulling.

Of course, this would only last so long, and after she had ‘viciously’ plucked a large chunk of the grass, the tawny girl settled her muzzle back down to her outstretched forepaws with a dramatic ‘plop.’ A sigh ushered past her lips, and blinking, the girl’s bright eyes drifted upward to the blue sky, noting the puffy white clouds that sailed across it, as if it were a sea. To say she was bored was an understatement, and glancing back down, she looked around, wondering where her twin just might be. “Innaaaaaa,” she called, her muzzle canting as she waited for her sisters reply – she was only met with a cricket. “Inna!” The demand was harsher this time, a scowl darkening her puppy features as she looked about for her sister.. and yet logic did not seem to pull her forward that she could actually go look for her littermate.. No, she wanted Inna to come to her.

(This post was last modified: Aug 25, 2015, 12:06 PM by Lekalta.)

are you deranged like me? are you strange like me?
lighting matches just to swallow up the flame like me?
do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me?

Having recently returned from the outskirts of the Spectral Woods, the rugged wolf had spent some time brooding at the Zephyr Rill. It was always important for him to mull over whatever information he had gathered, disposing of trivia, cataloguing intriguing gossip, and selecting the best, most important bits to report back to @Kisla. She was, after all, the alpha – and as far as the one-eyed man could tell, she was really the only one running Hearthwood River. While he could still smell Maksim's presence along the borders, he rarely, if ever, ran into the lord of the River wolves. It namely fell to his mate to keep an eye on their two growing daughters, as well as maintain the homeostasis of their pack. Ultimately, she was a very busy woman, and did not have the same luxury of time afforded to Kjors, which allowed him to pick over every last word extensively. She needed news, and she needed it in a concise, clear package. It was with this intent that the swarthy man picked his way back to the main body of the territory. He was only a few minutes away from his destination when an unfamiliar voice caught his ears. The subordinate drew to a slow halt in the tall grass, cocking his head to one side. A moment later, the voice called again – immediately, he realized this must be Lekalta, last of the Baranski princesses. He'd not the honor of meeting this one yet, at least not personally, and not when she was amongst the waking world. Curiosity quickly got the better of the wolf and he turned, padding through the itchy stalks before he finally came upon the honeyed child. Tipping his head, he arched his brow. "'lo there, lass. Y'supposed t' be out here?" he asked, lifting his head to scan the area. "Without yer mum?"

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It was not the tiny ebony form of her sister that came tumbling out at her, but instead, a rather large and intimidating wolf. Cloaked in a pelt of deep chocolate and black, this stranger’s form was tinted with aspects of cream and reds as well – a far cry from her sister’s almost pure black fur.

Lekalta shifted then, studying this wolf as he came closer – and, of course, she was captivated by the empty socket where his eye should have been. Not of the understanding that it was rude to stare at such a thing, the creamy girl did so rather blatantly, and found a sick curiosity pull at her.

You could lose an eye?

Of course, little did she know that it was likely taboo to also mention these incidents either, and pushing herself up with her forepaws to her rump, Lekalta peered curiously at the man, barely heeding his words as he mentioned her mother. “Where’d you put it?” The question seemed logical enough – had he left it behind somewhere? And if so, how? Or, more importantly, why? “Does it hurt?” It would seem the daughter of Maksim and Kisla had yet to learn the meaning of fear or nervousness – pack so far had only meant fun, and so with the scent that laid thick upon Kjors, Lekalta had no reason to assume otherwise.

She wanted to scooch closer to him then – the familiar comradery she would offer her parents or siblings, but something kept her rooted from the spot. Was he sick?

(This post was last modified: Aug 25, 2015, 12:15 PM by Lekalta.)

are you deranged like me? are you strange like me?
lighting matches just to swallow up the flame like me?
do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me?

Kjors stared down at the puppy, and likewise she eyeballed him with a serious degree of intensity. He did not falter, golden eye unblinking as she took in his face, and the empty socket masked by scar tissue and dark, patchy fur. Perhaps she did not remember the few times he'd visited the den – or perhaps Lekalta never truly got a good look at his mangled face before while sheltered by her mother. Weren't pups of poor eyesight? Perhaps that was it. The gawking stares were something he was long used to and he allowed it as the child continued to study him with more concentration than most adults. When she finally piped up, he gave a slow exhale, lips turning upwards with devilish glee. What a memory that was! Rank challenges always seemed to end with him in poor health, but at least @Karpos wasn't half mad. The beta he'd challenged in a pack long, long ago had done this to him. Was it worth telling the gruesome story to the small child? (Would Kisla appreciate it if he traumatized one of the princesses? But on the other hand, wasn't that just a reality of the world?) With a wry grin, he settled down onto his belly, stretching forelimbs out as his hind legs sprawled, making himself comfortable and on the same plane as the child. "Ah didn' lose it," he drawled, ears swiveling. "It got stolen' from me, see. An' th' wolf, she wasn't gonna give it back." The goriest part of the story was saved behind his mask, lest the child ask for it. "Did hurt somethin' fierce, though. Ah thought Ah was gonna die. Ain't had no healer, where Ah was. But Ah turned out, in the end. Wanna see it?" he goaded, dropping his head to his paws that Lekalta might ogle the injury to her little heart was content.

Burtn @DA & Dawnthieves.de - Table by PuppyThief

Unbeknownst to her open rudeness, Lekalta was still pleased when the male sidled closer, pleased she had questioned him of his fate. She continued to stare openly at him, her eyes wide as she studied the lines of scar tissue – the prospect of a missing eye seemed far too gruesome to truly consider.

The man sprawled before her then, and with the open invitation from body language alone, the girl scooched her rump closer, one paw lifting to hesitantly skim upon his own outstretched paws as she attempted to gain better balance – and, of course, peek in to the oblivion of where another golden eye should have been staring out at her.

“They stole it?” Her words came out almost as a gasp – the baby slur apparent as she gawked at him now, perplexed by this thought. People could steal your eyes? “Did she no have her own?” Again, the baby slur was out, and settling back further to better stare at the entirety of the beast before her, Lekalta was in awe over this tale. “What’d she do with it?” Imagination running rampant, Lekalta could only imagination what the she-wolf had done. His words coaxed her to take a closer peek, and the honeyed pup once more peered at him, studying it through squinted eyes. “Still hurt?” Had she been braver – perhaps if her sister had been at her side – Lekalta might have even lifted a paw to touch his cheek just below the old injury – yet even at a young age, she knew it might only cause him pain.

(This post was last modified: Oct 28, 2015, 11:17 AM by Lekalta. Edit Reason: Typos. )

are you deranged like me? are you strange like me?
lighting matches just to swallow up the flame like me?
do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me?

"Oh no, she had her own workin' set – though wouldn' tha' be interestin', huh?  But no, she could see me."  S would have needed to see her, if only to be able to land such a devastating hit on such a precise mark.  The woman was an expert, and if he didn't know better, he'd claim she'd have done it before – who knew what she was doing now, or where?  He could only hope they didn't cross paths ever again – pride dictated he would challenge her, but at what price this time?  Kjors could not give a second eye to feed the dragon's ego. And then Lekalta asked the magic question, he could not help the hearty laugh.  "Wha' indeed!" he barked, single eye dancing golden like a sovereign in the sun.  "Well, see, she knew she had me beat.  Turned around an' made me watch wi' th' one eye Ah had left…an' she ate it," he rumbled, voice dropping down to a whisper.  His tail wagged behind him furiously – perhaps he should not be so amused by his own mutilation, but what else could he do about the situation now?  It only became more melodramatic in retrospect, and all the better story to tell. With an amused snort, he twisted, nosing at the pup's soft belly gently.  Was this what it was like, having puppies?  This didn't…didn't seem so bad, really.  Not nearly as terrifying as the time he'd found Inna crying, after all.  "Naw.  Doesn' hurt 'nymore.  Hardly even notice it's gone.  Y'git used t' these sorta things, see.  Ah'm jes' a one-eyed wolf now, an' tha's that." He tipped his head, ears flexing forward as he addressed the child. "Ah kinna like it, even."

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(This post was last modified: Aug 25, 2015, 03:52 PM by Kjors. Edit Reason: Tags. )

There is a deer that was killed by a lynx nearby. +10 Health

Both disturbed and completely captivated by the tale as it was unwoven before her, Kjors certainly had Lekalta’s rapt attention. He lost it in battle – how terrible! Surely, the she-wolf who had taken it was powerful, for the male before her was terribly large, in her eyes. Not as big as her father – but quite formidable!

What came next, though, had her jaw drop in utter disbelief. “What?! Ewwww!” The gasp and squeal jumbled together, and the girl could barely keep a smile from breaking out upon her tiny features. The thought alone was sickening – surely it had tasted disgusting! “Didjou get her back?!”

His nose pressed to her belly, and a small giggle escaped the girl, allowing herself to flop down and to her side, one paw swinging to tap his nose. Her ears splayed back, excitement shining in her eyes as she thought of his story.

And then she truly thought of his story, and a sobering moment washed over her, nervousness flickering across her features. “Will she.. will she come and eat my eye?” Because as cool as the story was, Lekalta was definitely not keen at having her eyeball eaten. Kjors hadn’t mentioned why the she-wolf took his eye.. only that she had. Had he been bad? Is that what happened to bad pups..? Shifting her weight so that she remained splayed upon her stomach now, the cream-colored girl waited for an answer from the man who would know best – and maybe he could even protect her from it.

are you deranged like me? are you strange like me?
lighting matches just to swallow up the flame like me?
do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me?

The disgusted squeal brought a smile to the man's face, delighting in her reaction. He'd never considered himself much of a storyteller, not where children were concerned, but the dragon could certainly admit he saw the lure of such a task. Being a pupsitter still did not interest him in the slightest, but ah, keeping Lekalta amused while her parents were away seemed to have its own benefits. His sprawl relaxed, posture becoming more friendly as he leaned down to nudge the child again, humming deep in his throat as he was given a swat upon the bridge of his nose. His tongue flashed out, brushing atop the girl's crown twice as she worried over the witch's appearance. If only he actually had something to deter him from doing! Kjors bit back his smile and shook his head. "She won't take yer eye, princess," he promised, own eye gleaming at the thought. "She only does that if ye've been very, very bad – an' you ain't bad, are ya?" The male hummed softly to himself, tipping his head to study the girl. The princess was rambunctious, and certainly troublesome, but she didn't seem anymore than Kisla could handle – the woman had raised Orren, after all, and that boy could well be a dragon growing. "'sides, Ah wouldn' let 'er," he finally decided, pressing his nose back to Lekalta's back. It wouldn't do to terrify the child. She'd be good, or bad, regardless of the mystery witch and her horrible eye-eating habits. "Ain't never got her back…but if she ever showed up, Ah'd get 'er good. Promise."

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Don't mind me!

He had spent his time watching Lekalta, ensuring that his daughter had been safe in her wanderings. Truth be told, Maksim had been on the back burner of social encounters. He had been thinking, long and hard, of the alleged dragon in his ranks. A strange, sneaky sort he seemed, one that the father of five could not help but feel unease towards. It would not have been hard to seek the lord of this land out -- Kjors had simply opted not to. Then, there was the case of the failed attempt to cast Karpos down beneath him (a plan which Maksim was thoroughly glad the younger male had thwarted). What had given this one-eyed beast that right? He had barely released a breath of air in the pack, much less a burst of fire. Perhaps, he momentarily wondered, Kjors should be viewed as a threat. But what is a dragon to a gryphon?

As if his thoughts had summoned the wretched lizard, Kjors appeared before the Baranski princess and the king was left with a crinkled muzzle. No need to charge into action, he had no reason to ... instead, he watched silently from afar, as any father would when a man they did not trust was speaking with their child. Expertly blended with the towering redwoods that acted as the river's shield, Maksim kept his ears and ears well trained on the encounter. Give him a reason to move, dragon, and the titan gryphon would take it. Oh, he listened. The discussion was, truth be told, grim ... and yet, little Lekalta seemed thoroughly intrigued and even invested in the tale of how the swarthy man had lost his eye.

Deciding that, perhaps, it would be in his best interest to save his daughter from a more gory continuation of the tale, the Baranski lord rose. Shaking debris free from his thickening pelt -- winter was fast approaching --, he strode forward, from the tree line and the underbrush. His tail stood tall in dominance, the leader gave a glance to Kjors. The king was here. "Lekalta," he began with fatherly softness, approaching his daughter with a loving rumble, "perhaps it is best to not interrogate the man, hm?" A smile and a quick, gentle kiss to her crown for his greeting, Maksim returned his attention to the dragon. "You must be Kjors." The king paused.

"I've heard a great deal about you."

(This post was last modified: Aug 25, 2015, 07:12 PM by Maksim.)

we are shining in the rising sun, as we are floating in the blue