all we do is grow

HECATE LIAR



all we do is grow, grow, grow until we burn

The clumps of dark red mush squished beneath her pads, the feeling and sound accompanied by a disgusted grimace. The smell wasn't bad though, fruity and strangely frigid. Hecate loped with ease across the orchard, her head high with curiosity. This place she had found wasn't that far away, only a few miles away. It might be a training place in the future for @Skoll and her. It was pretty even in the fall, the light pink leaves fading into dark brown; and the smell was really starting to grow on her. The scent of neighboring packs was ridden throughout the ground, old prints laced around the trees in complicated patterns. Hecate liked this little place she had found, it was fitting for a woman like herself.

With the quiet environment, she sought it a perfect place to just think. Her pace slowed to a walk, taking a deep breath of the intoxicating smell. It had been a few days since she had interacted with someone, mainly staying solo for her own sake. She enjoyed her talks with the members, especially the talk with @Morganna. It was a streamline way to make friends her own age. Hecate also enjoyed her time with Skoll, it was relaxing and strangely therapeutic. She had finally met someone of her own kind, a similarity in thought a movement. She was quite fond of this new man in her life, but what about @Greer? A crease formed between her brows as her pace quickened uncomfortably. She would have to say something eventually... or would she? A soft breeze blew at her side, ruffling her fur airily; something was out there. At last, this was a question for later- someone else was here. She took a deep breath, glaring sharply into the mixture of electric colors. "Whadda y'think yer doin'." She barked gruffly in the direction she thought the scent wafted from; she couldn't tell out of the cutting odor traveling from the ground to her nose.

The smell was sickening within his lungs, and he longed to remove himself from these putrid surroundings. The perfume was far too powerfully fragrant, clouding his senses as everything of these trees rotted around him, from petals to fruit. A deep grimace had found permanent residence upon his muzzle as he navigated the crimson-stained soil, seeking escape.

He was not anticipating the presence of another, unable to perceive their scent through the stench that surrounded him, and so it was her voice alone that alerted him to her existence. Immediately he halted, muscles tensing with preparation as his head lifted to scan the immediate area for the origin. Given that she was not within his sight, he merely remained, waiting for her to come to him if she desired an answer to her question so badly. The voice was familiar, though without a face he could not quite place it, however the demand within her tone, as if he'd neared claimed ground, was abrasive to his ears. His tail curled high above his back as his chin listed, a clear sign to whoever might show themselves that he was not willing to allow her any misgivings about who was the dominant one within this orchard.

HECATE LIAR



all we do is grow, grow, grow until we burn

Her message was received, the visitor seemed to be halted. An ear pricked, waiting for an answer. Who would it be? She questioned, taking a few calm steps forward. It was evident that the person was not going to respond, her brows casting shadows over her eyes. The fact that someone denied her of a response tickled the fur across her nape. "Oh we playin' th' quiet game arr we?" She said, giving the stranger a deep and loud laugh. Hecate was having fun now, starting a bouncy pace; her paws lifting high in the air with each stride. "Is my feminin' voice not lurin' enough fer ya?" She cackled, rounding about some trees to gaze upon a dark figure. She smiley woman had to take a moment to recognize the man before her- the green pools looking him up and down.

"Well I'll b'damned. @Gent Lieris, how 'ave ya been brother?" She smiled, looking him over in awe of a missed friend. Despite his offensive posture, she trusted this man and his judgement; they had argued about it only months before. He smelled of a pack, the mixture of others flooding into her nose. Had he achieved his goal? Had he taken the reins of his own group?

(This post was last modified: Nov 05, 2015, 09:21 PM by Hecate.)

the armed queen

His pale gaze searched the sickening landscape before him, seeking his company's shape. Her rough voice bounced through the air to gracefully land within his ears, and her thick accent further tickled his memory. His snout crinkled momentarily as he struggled to recall just who this was, but as her face was finally witnessed, disappearing and reappearing between the black bodies of the wilting cherry trees, it finally fell into place. Something of a smirk ghosted over his features, but it wasn't until she addressed him fully that the audacity of her approach was dismissed.

"Hecate," he returned, the name now easily falling from his dangerous jaws. She certainly was more jubilant than he'd last known her to be, and he could guess that the strong whiff of others clinging to her fur had something to do with that. Perhaps she had found her place, as well as a monarchy that had proven her suspicions false. As he continued to breathe in the lives that wove with her, yet another memory was triggered. She smelled of the same willows @Morganna had.

"Been good," the king answered, summising positively as he was unwilling to touch on the tragedies that had trailed behind him. "You seem a sight better off than you were last we met. Wouldn't have thought to ever describe you as... bubbly," he teased, corners of his mouth turning up with a wry smirk.

HECATE LIAR



all we do is grow, grow, grow until we burn

She beamed up at the warm face, swishing her tail a few times at his response. He seemed surprised at her zealous entrance, eyeing her with and almost cautious smile. "I'm glad yer doin' well, y'deserve tha'." She said in a tone that would have been accompanied by a few reassuring pats on his back. She was curious to where he had run off since they had last met, he wanted to go to... Hollowed Heart... Hollowed Keep? Well, whatever it was- the point was if he proved her wrong. As much as she didn't like it, she wanted to see him succeed; prove her argument wrong.

"An' yesss, I been havin' quite th' time at Willow Ridge." A mischievous grin tugging back at her lips, teeth glimmering in the distant sunlight. "It's only over there, past th' streams an all tha' shit." She said, nodding to where she had come from. She had the strange feeling something had happened in the time she had last seen him; like a shadow casting over him, possessive and close. A quick flicker of concern flashed across her features, pulling it away with a positive question. "Didja' find what y'were lookin' for? Do y'sit on a throne of gold?" She teased with a spirited laugh.

the armed queen

Shallow water has trapped several fish in a small pond. Hunt Opportunity

More and more Gent was given cause to wonder about this Willow Ridge, given how it seemed to permeate so many aspects of Western politics. That Hecate had allied herself with them was a positive occurrence within the man's head, especially given how amiable she was toward him. Another paw past the threshold for him, helping to aid in his ultimate goal. So much bad blood had threatened to poison his pack, and now he was determined to make peace with the ghosts of the past to ensure that no one wished ill against the Crest and its subordinates. This primarily concerned the trifecta Woodlands, Caverns and Ridge, and he already had one down.

There would be time enough to hedge toward such diplomatic topics, however. For now, he wanted to know for the sake of her what was making her time amongst the willows so spectacular, and what the shadow of her toothy smile was hiding. She had her own questions though, of course, and he easily recalled the civil disagreement they'd had upon their meeting.

"Indeed I do," he answered her with a smirk, a gratified look evident within those pale eyes. Things hadn't gone to plan, far from it as of late, but all the same he was proud both of his pack and those who worked every day to keep it safe and strong, as well as his own ascent and personal gains. "King of the Crest, far up to the north. Couldn't be corrupt if I tried. The queen wouldn't allow it."

He spoke conversationally, jokingly, easily; as if catching up with an old friend, and transitioned the cynosure back onto his companion, "What sort of trouble have you been up to, hm?"

HECATE LIAR



all we do is grow, grow, grow until we burn


She relaxed in her seat when he spilled his position. Hecate wondered how he got the throne in such a short time, she was on her measly way to finding a higher position so she was looking for all the help she could get. Her hers twitched and tuned to the sound of, "The Crest". Apparently it was up North, but how far was he talking. She leveled her gaze, it would be wise to report this information to either @Skoll or @Morganna. It would serve the pack well to know of any packs in the area; a possible ally they could become? She laughed like the autumn breeze, relaxed and laid back to build confidence in Gent. As normal conversations went, he then proceeded to take turn in the questioning. "Well, I been doin' odd jobs 'round cite, but I been mullin' over what y'said a while back." She hummed, giving him insight of what exactly she had been doing around campus. "I ave' reconsider-duhd the whole dictatorship thing." The word, dictator, might have raised a few flags for him; but determined to make him hear her out, she kept going. "It ain't tha' bad." The shorter woman nodded in affirmation, tilting her head to the side. "Y'all might not have it tha' bad."

(This post was last modified: Feb 03, 2016, 02:28 AM by Hecate.)

the armed queen

His ears flicked forward as her initial description of time spent amongst these in/famous willows came across as lackluster. Then the left one ticked to the side as a shadowy smirk crossed his muzzle upon hearing the word 'dictatorship.' Reconsidered, eh? Had young Hecate gotten a taste of something she couldn't put back down, then? Her rough nature hinted at skulduggery regardless of the benign morals she presumed to uphold, and he found himself truly enthralled with wonder at what plots exactly were cooking within her ivory skull.

"Not that bad," he repeated slyly as the corners of his mouth turned further upward.

"How, exactly, do you think we all have it, hm?" he teased further, with secret hopes that her response would shed much more light on the exact situation.

Best of all, he was wondering how he might capitalize on the ambitions of this loosely acquainted friend. If giving her a paw up boosted himself as well, he'd be quite the fool to walk away from such a readily available political maneuver. Even if Whisper Caverns refused to relent their grudges against the Crest wolves, this could easily be Gent's way of circumventing them. If he had both the Woodlands and the Ridge's favor, the two powers could be enough to pressure the Caverns into standing down.