Nightingale Palisade to ransom a man's soul

Rumors Of My Demise Have Been Greatly Exaggerated

His crimson tinted paws seemed indefatigable as he put distance between him and that place. Knowing now that he could never go back or should he want to, there was no possible way he could if he wanted to spare his life and hers. Rònan couldn't put her life at risk like that if he could prevent it. Leaving her was the hardest thing the Scottish man ever had to do, but he would rather see her alive than dead under the jowls of Randal. As long as she kept her clever mind, she would be safe and away from the grasp of Randal. His heart ached at being so far away from her beautiful embrace, but his determined mind set his path for him towards unknown lands that would keep his dearest away from harm.

Traveling through the ravine provided only a slight difficulty in moving though, the Lockhart man wasn't sure where he was headed or who was in these lands. Though, he would eventually go back for his beloved, he would need to make it through the winter first. However, he was not sure where the nearest pack was or if a pack would accept him for only a short season. Rònan needed information, directions to where he could find such a pack to help him before he could go back and claim his wife and bring her back with him to safety.

TAG: @'"Isuni"  |  WORDS: 238  |  NOTE(S): ---  |  ?

we are not things

Uncertainty had led her to drift.

Well, in all reality, Morganna’s offer had led to curiosity, and it was curiosity that had driven the young woman further south. That wandering had brought her to the Sacred Grove where she’d met Skoll, and it was the dark prince that had led her to consider joining Willow Ridge in earnest. She had hovered around the borders of the willow trees before the nerves sunk in. It felt like eons since she’d worked with other wolves on a day-to-day basis, and that panic never settled.

It was that fear that drove her back northward, though she had no idea what she sought. There was no wolf she sought out in particular. Nios had been nice, though not terribly sociable. Craw was poor company at best, though not openly hostile. While she’d enjoyed the companionship that Morganna and Skoll had both offered, she wasn’t certain she wanted to explain herself to either of the powerful wolves. So instead she slithered north with no goal in mind, seeking only the company of herself.

Unfortunately, it seemed she’d not get her wish. There was a red wolf about. Large, almost as large as her, and he was met with a great deal of caution as she barked. “Hello,” she greeted the stranger, announcing that she knew well he was here. “Who’re you?”

Why are you here?

A wild dissertation appears!

Rumors Of My Demise Have Been Greatly Exaggerated

Grey blue orbs gazed up at the empyreal creatures who rested within the branches of the trees within the deep ravine the Lockhart lad traveled through. The dark cloaked crow birds sat squawking at each other with an occasional bark towards his direction. Rònan paid no attention to them, besides a subtle glance skyward towards them. No, the russet coated man  had more important matters on hand that kept his conscience churning. His heart was soaked in worry about his Ailsa and if she was still successfully hidden away from the clutches of Randal and his evil band of patrons.

The Lockhart gentleman had always been one to be faithful and loyal to those his heart loved, however, it had been many fortnights where he had not a taste of attention or even affection given his way. The wife had stopped paying him the attention she had while he was courting her right before Randal had stepped into their lives. Rònan then did not think anything of it, assuming it was the pressures of what Randal was putting them though. However, now he wondered why she retreated from his embrace so quickly and seemingly willingly. Though, the large male was never going to accuse his beloved of anything unless he saw it will his own eyes or she confessed. He would never stop putting faith in the oath he gave her the day he asked her to be his, until Ailsa gave him a reason to.

While his conscience was preoccupied with his thoughts, Rònan almost missed the apparent company calling to him. Russet tainted satellites turned towards the voice of the woman who had announced her presence to him. His grey blue eyes followed quickly after, briefly looking over the female noting her size and color similar to his, though her coat was mixed with other shades of color while his more brilliant in russet. Nodding politely, "Aye, hello th'are," he returned with a respectful smile given to her. His Scottish heritage evident in his voice as well his nature towards the stranger. " 'Mah nam is Rònan. An' ye ur?" He asked in return.

TAG: ---  |  WORDS: ---  |  NOTE(S): ---  |  ?

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

we are not things

It took the young woman a moment to realize that the other wolf was indeed speaking the tongue she was accustomed to, if not one that was heavily accented. Ears flipped forward and backwards several times, the thoughts practically visible as they raced through her mind and behind bright brown eyes. Ronan, she finally realized, and an expression of confusion quickly morphed into something much more friendly, her tail swinging behind her as she offered a smile.

“I’m Capable,” she replied, before realizing that sounded more like she was describing her abilities. “I mean, that’s my name. Capable. Just Capable.”

Sometimes I wonder if I should call myself Just and take my family name as Capable, she thought to herself wryly as she took two steps forward, hazarding to approach the stranger. Initial impressions seemed friendly enough and she inhaled deeply. To her delight, he wore no scent of packs, and something unbidden slipped from her shoulders as she seemed to shrink back down from her massive size. “Do you live out here?” she asked, tipping her head to one side. “Been looking for a place, myself. Winter is coming and all that, don’t want to spend another winter caught out in the snow. That was stupid,” she chuckled softly, glancing down towards her paws. “As yearlings tend to be, I suppose.”

A wild dissertation appears!