Larkcall Lowlands counting bodies like sheep

Anyone is welcome to join, but tagged for @Askan

The light was fading and shadows began to move in from the dark corners of the earth as the monochrome hours of dusk took hold. It was at this time that Lorcan decided to venture to the lowlands to creep quietly within the shadows, golden eyes intently searching for his next meal. That was when he had seen it – the sudden flash of white as small group of Snowshoe Hares darted away and underground.

He daren’t breath. The young male crouched there, perfectly still, his face masked behind the tall blades of grass that sprouted along the few feet that lay between Lorcan and the shadowy entrance to the rabbit tunnel. Charcoal lips were pressed firmly together as the hungry predator tried his best to control his impatient and excitable breathing, willing his breath not to disturb the rhythmic dancing of the grass in the evening breeze. His russet ears were perked forwards and flickered subtly to the sound of faint rustling that echoed out from within the hares’ lair. He could hear them shuffling, hiding temptingly just beneath the surface. A small snarl tugged at his top lip as the young male lowered himself an inch or so closer to the ground to ease his tense, aching muscles. He needed to be patient.

(This post was last modified: Jul 20, 2016, 08:38 AM by Lorcan.)

# P O R C A N

sometimes, two people have to fall apart to realise

how much they need to fall back together

Night was drawing close and with its approach, Askan felt increasingly at ease. It was a rare feeling, to say the least, so he savoured it. He revelled in it. He knew it would be fleeting, such postive feelings were fickle things after all. It was a sad thought really, didn't he deserve happiness? Didn't he deserve peace? Probably not. He was not a good person, he hadn't done anything wrong per se, but deep down he knew- he feared- that he wasn't good. He didn't like to think of such things, but they passed through his mind so often. He couldn't control them , it felt as though they weren't his own, like they didn't belong in his mind. And they didn't, he was strong, worthy of praise and glory. So with a hearty shove he pushed them to the side and continued on his merry way.

Askan was many things, but he was not quite nor stealthy. His foot falls were heavy from his musuclar bulk, and he took no care to quieten his panting. The sun was setting, but it was still humid and being a dark wolf with such a thick coat he always had trouble with keeping cool in the summer. Gods, he missed winter. He couldn't wait till the lands were smothered by snow. He'd just have to wait till then, and hate every minute of humidity.

In his day dreaming- well dusk dreaming really- he didn't notice that he wasn't alone. Nor did he realise that he was ruining someones hunt.  He wasn't usually so unobservant, he was adamant of that, but like anyone his mind occasionally slipped.  It woudln't be accurate to say that Askan stumbled over the crouching wolf, but it was close. The wolf didn't quite blend into the long grass, but if Askan didn't have such a sharp gaze he would have gone unseen.

Askan's response wasn't exactly dignified. He'd never live it down.  In his defence, he didn't leap up into the air and shriek, but he was taken back. And in his surprise, he naturally turned to anger.

"What the hell are you doing?" Askan demanded, as if he had the right to do so.  "Get up, you fool."

Askan took a step back. This wolf was too close for his liking, he was within his personal space and it made Askan's fur stand on end, as though he was the one affronted.  Then again, it never took much to insult Askan, so really it didn't mean much.

(This post was last modified: Jul 19, 2016, 09:53 PM by Askan.)

I said that they barged into each other slightly, but nothing serious. Hope that’s okay @Askan?

Russet ears twitched incessantly upon the smooth curve of his head, as Lorcan listened in to the commotion that was happening just beneath the surface of the tundra’s terrain. He could hear the panic in the hares’ tiny hearts, which fluttered all the more hysterically with each silent second that passed by. A small smile tugged at the corners of his charcoal lips as he continued to wait at the tunnel entrance patiently. He enjoyed hunting, the thrill of the chase – because unfortunately unlike his more stocky brothers, Lorcan had been blessed or cursed with the advantage of speed and stamina over herculean strength. He was no fighter, but he was good at running away from them.

Golden eyes were quietly locked onto the tunnel’s entrance as he sat, almost entranced as he stared into the dark bottomless hole. Russet ears grew still as he pinpointed the position of the rustling from movement underground, the hares’ were beginning to tiptoe closer – until all of a sudden they weren’t. His white brows frowned in annoyance as he heard the sudden thump of bodies clashing and then the hurried pounding of tiny footfall as the group of hares scurried away, deeper into their safe underground passages. Something had spooked them. Golden eyes widened in disbelief as he carefully inched his way forwards to jam his muzzle into the empty lair’s entrance, quietly kidding himself that somehow a hare would turn around and run into his open jaws.

It was then that he heard the sound of heavy footfall and harsh breathing suddenly approaching him. No sooner had Lorcan turned his face around to send a sharp glare of annoyance towards the oncoming individual, had said individual barrelled straight into him, leaving the Lorcan with a fur-riddled grimace and a sore nose. “Urrgh..” Almost immediately the silent hours of dusk were shattered by the loud bellowing of the dark haired stranger as he demanded Lorcan into action. Blinking slowly, completely bewildered by the situation, and still sore from the brute’s impact with his face, Lorcan compliantly rose to his feet. He stood there, silent, in front of the male with his brows twisted awkwardly in aggravated confusion.

Silently he judged the stranger and took in his appearance. Similar in size to Lorcan, although a little shorter in the legs and a little thicker in build, with predominantly black fur and a sharp yellow glare. The young male flared his nostrils, breathing in the tense air between them. Unable to detect any obvious dominating scent, Lorcan labelled the dark-haired brute a loner and so opted for a neutral stance, albeit his ears, which lay flat against his crown in caution. He was yet to work out if he had caught the male on a bad day or if he was just plain rude regardless. Nethertheless, Lorcan returned back to the stranger’s question “Hunting out hares, if you must know…” There was a slight sharpness to his voice, brought about by the male’s rude manner, but Lorcan tried his best to reign in his words and remain polite, lest it lead to confrontation.

(This post was last modified: Jul 20, 2016, 10:00 AM by Lorcan.)

# P O R C A N

sometimes, two people have to fall apart to realise

how much they need to fall back together

Askan didn't like his attitude, nor did he like the way the stranger took him in with a grimace, as though he didn't like what he saw. Askan was in the wrong, there was no denying that but you'd never ever get him to admit. Not without a struggle at least. The strangers response,whilst prickly was reasonable and Askan surmised he was telling the truth. If he listened carefully, and angled his ears in the right direction he could hear the pitter patter of tiny paws. Rabbits made for a poor meal, but they were enough to soften the sharp edge of hunger. 

There was something off about this tawny wolf, something Askan couldn't quite point out. He wasn't anything special, not like Askan was. Or so he claimed. But Askan could have sworn that there was a familiar twang to his scent. It made him scrunch up his face in displeasure. It wasn't bad per se, but he knew  that he didn't like it. That it reminded him of bad times he tried to forget. That was aside the point, he'd gotten better,  his lot in life had improved. Askan would soon have a pack and a home. But that was besides the point,  he'd never met this fool before, he'd have recognised him if he had. So who was he? Askan would get to the bottom of this, he'd make sure of it.

"Right. And where are you from? Are you in a pack? You smell like it. " He asked, taking a few steps back to reassert himself.

How many packs where around here? The lowlands were a massive expanse of land that seemed to stretch on forever. He knew better of course, he had wandered a little south before, he knew that nothing went on forever. Everything had to end. It was a troubling notion though,  another pack so close to his potential packs new home. But what could be done? A turf war? Even Askan was put off by such an idea, even he didn't want to fight. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that, hopefully this pack would leave them damn well alone. 

(This post was last modified: Jul 20, 2016, 10:42 AM by Askan.)

Lorcan watched in silent amusement as the dark-haired male tilted his head to angle his ears down to the ground and listened out for the fleeting sounds of the hares hasty footfall patter through their underground tunnels as they fled. A single twitch tugged at his upper lip, aggravated by the strangers need to confirm his answer for himself as if he had been lying. A soft grunt grated within his throat as he observed the male suspiciously, unsure of his intentions, before his attention was turned inwards to the warm throbbing at his snout. Salmon pink tongue swept up to lick soothingly at his muzzle, leaving a thin coat of wet saliva there that quickly grew cold in the evening breeze.

He glanced up again in surprise when the stranger presented him with yet more questions, white rows raising in interest. So the male had managed to identify that that he was carrying the musky scent of a pack, which wasn’t that hard really given its purposefully dominating odour. It was Lorcan’s immediate reaction to tilt his chin in a nod of agreement, when a hot wave of caution washed over his skin, causing the fur along his neck and back to bristle with unease. He had remembered back to his conversation with @Craw that had taken place during the time that they had travelled from the mountain to the monadnock. Specifically, he remembered, were the pack rules. He shouldn’t give too much away about the pack, for fear that someone should wish to use detailed information against them.

Lorcan didn’t exactly trust this stranger, his manner did not put him in a good light. So, Lorcan decided it would be best to exercise some discretion in his answer. He wouldn’t lie – for he was a terrible liar, but half-truths were easier to master with convincing confidence. “Yes.. the Whitestone Pack, —completely failing to mention the key feature of the monadnock—from nearby.” He answered calmly, doing his best to keep a cool expression on his face. “Why do you ask, Sir?” He asked with a intrigued tilt of his head. He hoped his manners would calm the stranger down and reassure him that Lorcan wanted no trouble.

(This post was last modified: Jul 20, 2016, 11:56 AM by Lorcan.)

# P O R C A N

sometimes, two people have to fall apart to realise

how much they need to fall back together

There are several fresh rabbit tracks in the mud. Hunt Opportunity

The feeling was mutual. There were very few wolves that Askan trusted, and as the stranger could no doubt guess, he was not among them. Still, Askan couldn't blame him. Or at least he was aware of the fact that he shouldn't have. He doubted that he would have welcomed the stranger with open arms if the situation was reversed. Being tripped over was no ones idea of fun. If anything, Askan should have been grateful that he hadn't reacted aggressively, or worse yet tried to scold him. Askan no doubt would have slunk away with this tail tucked between his legs. Another thing he wouldn't have been able to live down.

Askan was no good at lying or identifying lies, but even he could tell that the stranger wasn't telling the truth, or at least the whole truth. Fine,the stranger could keep his secrets, Askan wasn't going to pry. Perhaps he should have, maybe the information would come in handy in the future, but again if the roles were reversed he wouldn't like to be pestered. If the stranger tried to ask questions about his future-pack-to-be then he would be just as- maybe even more- tight lipped and cagey.

"Whitestone? Never heard of it." Askan told him with a languid shrug. He assumed it was around here somewhere, as pack wolves didn't tend to stray too far from their lands, but the lowlands were massive so knowing that wasn't very helpful.

When the wolf continued, Askan couldn't help but see him in a more favourable light. Sir, he called him sir. He had refered to him with a term of respect, or at the bare minumim he had spoken to him in a polite manner. That was quite a change, and honestly Askan was more than a little taken back. This was all that he wanted, to be taken seriosuly. It wasn't that hard was it? All it took was one word, and a reasonable, agreeable temperment. It was so easy. So why didn't anyone else grant him this simple nicety? He just wanted to feel good and belong, that's all.  

The silence stretched on and Askan belatedly realised that he had asked him a question. Askan awkwardly cleared his throat in an attempt to regain his former-usual- facade. It worked, somewhat.

"Just curious. I also have.... Assets nearby." His wording wasn't quite what he had in mind, but it would have to do. Words couldn't be taken back.

(This post was last modified: Jul 20, 2016, 09:00 PM by Askan.)

Lorcan gave an inward sigh of relief when the dark-haired stranger responded with a casual shrug and dismissed any knowledge of the Whitestone Monadnack pack. The young male was thankful really that the brute knew nothing of them, apart from of course the very vague details Lorcan had now disclosed to him – he, personally, wouldn’t be particularly thrilled if someone like the male standing before him, with his rude manner and raging temper, ever made it into @Craw’s and @Morganna’s ranks. That would, no doubt, result in unwelcome tension within the pack – and Lorcan felt that it was somehow his unfounded duty to keep the pack peaceful.

Lorcan waited expectantly for the stranger’s reply to his own question, only for a long moment of silence to pass between them, which the young male couldn’t help but shuffle his feet awkwardly in as he done his best to remain patient and composed. When the dark male finally responded to his question, his answer was equally – if not even more so – as vague and un-telling as the answer Lorcan had strung the stranger along with. The young male snorted amusedly, nodding his head in plain acceptance. However, in the back of his mind, something bothered him: what had he meant by assets nearby? His answer likened it to his own, in which he had offered up his pack’s name - or at least half of it. His brow curved in suspicion, unsure of how to take the snippet of information, but with a shake of his head he brushed his concerns aside and focused his attention back on the man before him with the intention to find out what he was up to.

“So, were you planning on catching something too out here?” He chimed, diverting the conversation away from the subject which he felt uneasy about, and turned his head to glance back down to the empty hare’s tunnel entrance, a small satirical smirk sweeping across his face, as he cocked his head to one side teasingly. It didn’t look like Lorcan would have much luck tonight with his plans for a meal.

(This post was last modified: Jul 21, 2016, 10:06 AM by Lorcan.)

# P O R C A N

sometimes, two people have to fall apart to realise

how much they need to fall back together

The wolf snorted derisively and Askan glowered.  He didn't like being mocked, but for the sake of civility he was willing to let it go. It wasn't as if the stranger had outright insulted him, so it could have been worse. Askan was difficult- he knew that- so sometimes he really had to try and be polite. It didn't feel natural in the slighest, especially when his efforts were undeserved. But this wolf wasn't the worst one he had happened across, there had been one that had been awful, rude and haughty. Gah, Askan had no desire to see that grey bastard anytime soon.  The mere thought of that arrogant fiend was enough to make a low grumble threaten to spill out of his lips. There was no need for that, so he bit down on his tongue and swallowed it like a bitter pill.

"Not really." Askan admitted, following the stranger's line of sight to the rabbit den. The little beasts were still, as though they thought that if they were quiet enough they would fade from existence. "It's hot out tonight, thought a walk would help. I don't come here often." Askan told him, putting a heavy emphesis on his meaning, that he wasn't out for trouble despite his prickly exterior.  "Besides, there are a few packs that live nearby, including yours as well I guess. I try to avoid them if I can. I've got better things to do than get into useless squabbles."

The lowlands were massive, so he wasn't worried about the lack of space, he simply didn't want to have to confront wolves who he deemed got too close to his pack-to-be's lands.  Much to his relief, visitors had been few in number and so far none of them had been wolves yet. Or at least strange wolves that he deemed unwelcome. Not that it was his call or anything, he defered judgement to the soon-to-be alphas and would continue to do so no matter what. But still, he couldn't help but want to keep a watchful eye out. There would always be others looking to steal and snatch away the products of their hard work, Askan had to be ever vigilant. This wolf though- Askan did not trust him- but he didn't see him as a threat either. Or at least not an immediate one. That could always change, a fact he always kept in mind.

Let’s round this thread up? This will probably be Lorcan’s last post :)

Lorcan glanced up to the dark-haired male when he denied looking for food out on the tundra plains, a suspicious glint shimmering in his watchful gaze as observed the male gaze down to where he had previously motioned; at the shadowy entrance of the lair and waited for the explanation that he craved for. When the male mentioned the heat, the young male nodded along slowly in agreement and his ears pricked up when the stranger continued on to say that he didn’t wander the lowlands often. Lorcan chuffed contentedly. That knowledge somewhat calmed his previous concerns about the wolf, comforted that he would not be mulling around the area when his pack was nearby. Lorcan slowly circled around the man, before settling himself down on his haunches. He felt less threatened now, as the man seemed to be showing a more agreeable side to him, a side that the young male was happy to tolerate.

“There is a river not too far from here, at the palisade.” He offered up the information willingly, considering the stranger’s obvious discomfort in the harsh heat of the summer. “Perhaps, you might like to visit there?” He gave a small nod of encouragement.

When the male spoke of more packs in the nearby area, Lorcan listened closely. He wanted to hear more, tempt out all the details, but also he feared that doing so would encourage the male to ask his own questions about Whitestone Monadnock. Questions that the young new pack member did not feel comfortable answering. So, he held back his flurry of questions which burned in his skull. “Good to hear!” He murmured, before getting back onto his feet and giving a thorough shake of his pelt. He was eager to get back to the pack lands now, and report to @Craw about what he had found out – even if it wasn’t much to go on. As he turned his body to face the direction of the monadnock that nestled over the horizon, he shot a glance towards the dark-haired brute over his shoulder. Before he scurried away, he desired one last snippet of information. “I’m Lorcan, by the way.” He said, head dipping in respect with his ears flat against his head as he paused to catch the man’s name before leaving.

# P O R C A N

sometimes, two people have to fall apart to realise

how much they need to fall back together