Blackberry Fields a crown of thorns

RE: Violent thunderstorms overtake Relic Lore. Open to one~ Maybe @Craw, or maybe someone else?

Marianna met the blackberry fields with a vague amount of disinterest. She’d known this was once the location of her parents’ pack, before her father died and her mother moved to the timbers where she’d spent most of her childhood. But it was only a bramble thicket to the heavy-set yearling, and were it not for the threatening storm overhead, she wouldn’t have lingered in the slightest. She was meant to go further west, into the forest, and perhaps follow the stars northward once more – Round Stone Crest was around here, somewhere, and she was no longer at risk of starvation or succumbing to the elements.

A low growl overhead drew the yearling to a halt, ears flat out to the side as she squinted skywards. The clouds were taking on an eldritch shade of green. Something fierce was coming, and if she didn’t move her hide, she was going to get pummeled by the oncoming front.

Hissing softly between clenched teeth, Ari pressed forward, a new urgency to her steps as she moved through the rustling grass. Her original plans were abandoned for the more pressing matters. Thunder cracked, practically overhead this time, and the female jumped, a curse tumbling out of her mouth. “Fuck!” she snarled, eyes widening as her pace increased again. Anything, anything!

-accidentally spills bucket of hammy overdramatic goodness over this post- oops

A recent storm had heralded change in a magnificent way, and as such, Craw had found a fresh appreciation for them. Vicious and dominating, the thunder and lightning and heavy grey clouds had taken over the sky for that full day, and in their crashing chorus so much greatness had been born. At the first hint of rain clouds on this little foray south he had stopped to admire them, but had no idea it would turn into an event almost as splendid. He had come this way for the journey north had been urgent and without opportunity for more casual exploration, so single-minded had the group been on getting as far away from the Ridge as possible before Morganna's spawn decided they were ready. Thus, Craw had decided to gain a little context as to how far they had actually come and see how much he recognised of the lands directly south. After more than a day's travel, he could conclude that the distance covered was adequate indeed; he would turn back to rejoin the others on their high plateau soon, for he was loathe to be apart from them for long.

The weather had other ideas, as the rain picked up and the wind blew harder, but he was far from dissuaded. He stood out in the storm as it began to swell, brazen and bold in the middle of this vast field with its brambles and rolling grasses, perched atop a meagre hillock - but it brought him a few feet closer to the roiling storm clouds and their vigour. Bring it on. When the first lightning bolt struck the earth, followed moments later by the immense roar of the sky, Craw snarled right back, pale fur whipped about by the growing gale.

He would have to take shelter before long or risk getting too caught up in it, but in a way, that felt like admitting defeat. The storm had freshly birthed him - he would not run from it.

The storm progressed despite the girl’s distress. (She was anything but a damsel.) Ears turned flat against her skull, she narrowed her eyes until they were mere slits – and even then, the sheets of rain were practically blinding. When she could blink cold droplets away, she could not see more than a length or two in front of her. The wind continued to howl, and Ari got the sneaking suspicion this could turn into more than just an everyday storm. She’d heard of the twisters that gobbled everything up from the wolves she’d stay with, but had no desire to witness one herself.

After a few more moments, the girl decided her best course was one aimed at shelter, determination be damned.

She turned, trudging back towards the blackberry thickets as she was buffeted by wind. Surely, she should have reached the patch by now – Ari tried to open her eyes a little wider, and she could not see a damn thing. Had she gone the wrong way? Why was she always getting lost in the shittiest weather Relic Lore had on offer?

“Fuck!” she snapped angrily, beginning to slide down one of the sloping hills. She scrabbled through the sheets of mud, and a moment later, collided with a rock. Except it wasn’t a rock, it was a massive wolf. All at once, lips peeled back as her eyes flashed like the lightning overhead. “Fuck’s sake, watch it, pal!” she shouted. Her parents never did have the opportunity to teach her any comity. “Can’t you see I’m trying to get out of this buffalo shit?”

 

A wild dissertation appears!

He had stood on that hillock until the sky's ferocity became too much, and Craw had decided that a strategic retreat was for the best. Still feeling doped up on second-hand adrenaline, he had all but slid down that hill, for the wind and rain made careful steps all but impossible when the ground was slick and wet. With vision largely restricted to the near, for the heavy rain made everything more than a couple of yards away look distorted - not to mention it was hard to open eyes completely anyway - he tried to orient himself with his memory of this field to determine where the best shelter would be. Despite the roaring storm and his primal exhilaration, he ultimately felt completely calm, in control, and not panicky in the least.

And that's when she barrelled into him, her footing probably sabotaged by the muddy streaks he himself had left when sliding down that very same hill. As the young woman's angry yelling joined the oppressive wailing of the storm, Craw aligned himself, deathly calm, and as her final hostile words escaped her bitter mouth he lunged.

Fortunately for the girl, it was with jaws closed, the brunt of his attack to be delivered with his shoulder as he would aim to shove her over and onto her back, where he would do his best to keep her unless she struggled free. With her distraction andobvious disorientation because of the storm coupled with his razor-sharp composure, Craw fancied it would not be difficult. This was his world now, and the sky was singing his name. Nobody talked to him like that without retaliation.