Ghastly Woods each moment i'm watching my vengeance unfold

Open to anyone!

The thrummy monochromatic pelt crept through the dark terrain that was night in the forest that whispered to the wolves who dared lurk in its boundaries. She heard the whistling of wind passing between leaves as her paws hit the ground with steady thumps. She’d been without a home too long, and even with the setting around her matchihng her interests to the “t”, it would not do. She was many things, it could be said, but Dreamweaver needed other wolves, wolves that she could share a mutual respect with… she needed a pack, but she had time, and she refused to be picky.

She needed a pack of strong wolves to fight for, and in return wolves that would fight for her in the situation arose, something incredibly rare to find… and thus the search continued. The land appeared barren of any packs or wolves in general, or perhaps her nose was just failing her to the wind or the damp and musty scent that came with the thick darkness… Nascha imagined that even with the sun up, it was still probably dark, barely able to see the moon poking up into the sky and the stars that surrounded it… yes, she preferred this.

(This post was last modified: Aug 26, 2016, 01:08 AM by Nascha.)

Keeping his word, Gent had been venturing outside of the pack's territory more and more often in search of strays that might suit him. Thus fair this had proved fruitful, but the thrummy man had been a leader long enough to know this was simply the way of things. They weren't desperate, and he would not jump the gun in allowing strangers to bed beside his children.

Speaking of the little weeds, he missed them desperately every time he was gone. @Aleris and @Ryker were both growing by leaps and bounds, and the thought of missing any of their breakthroughs from one stage to the next nearly was enough to keep him at home. This venturing and searching, however, was for them as well. More than anything, the man needed to keep himself from suffocating the whelps.

All of the discipline in the world could not stop his thoughts from wandering to what they might be doing in each moment as he wandered. The gnarled trees and curling fog were as familiar as an old friend to the man, but for once his present was so captivating that reminiscience could not claim him. He thought not of Naira and her Keep, of empty caches and ornery pack mates. When the rogue woman's scent crossed his path, he did not consider the possibility of ghosts.

His strides stopped as he analyzed what lay ahead, a female with no traces of others anywhere on her body. Possibly what he was looking for, possibly a feral creature best left alone. Gent would soon know, his inky frame pressing forward once more to pursue her.

@Gent <3

The creature was weary, her eyes gazing around her as she moved – the darkness helped to cloak her body, but she would be a fool not to know that it did not judge, and that it shared such traits with others… and not everyone was friendly, wasn’t she proof of that? She was loyal to a fault, but such loyalty had to be earned, not by title of alpha, but by respect built from actions, someone she could use to further herself, damn if they did the same. It was a complicated train of thought, and one that had often clashed with pack ideals in the past… the clan had not been too fond of such thinking either…

The clan, there was something she preferred not to think about. They’d been weak, protecting those who could not provide for themselves – she understood with children nurturing them into strong soldiers, but some of the adults had been babied, and they had not pulled their weight, and that had bothered her, something they were all aware of – she’d been quite vocal about it and honestly she had almost come to believe in mirabilia because she hadn't been shunned from her home sooner.

The sooty girl pressed forward, ears perked, carefully listening for pawsteps, nose actively searching for others… and then her eyes narrowed slightly, her head turning at a sound she thought she heard to find an ebony mass staring at her as he moved forward, her narrowed eyes turning curious slightly as she shifted the rest of her body to face him, not leaving things up to chance. He smelled of others, those many scents clinging together meant one thing to her – pack. The land didn’t smell like it had been marked… he was wandering. Why, she didn’t know, and she didn’t really care.

“Lost or just wandering?” She asked in a soft tone, head lifted just a smidge. She had no sense of who this man was, and again, she wasn’t actually sure she cared… but information never hurt… and she felt as if he might be able to provide some.

(This post was last modified: Aug 26, 2016, 01:08 AM by Nascha.)

The closer he got, the more he learned of her. When finally she was within view, her age stood out among everything else. Immediately he was reminded of @Sylva, but the more he took in of this young woman's features, the less she could be likened to his truepenny apprentice. Rather than compare his mind contrasted the two against one another. This yearlings coat was equally devoid of color but far lighter in hue, yet the girl herself emanated more shadow than light. She was darker, in a way that pulled the king in. His interest had been successfully baited, and his posture remained open as his strides drew to an end.

Her question was answered easily enough, a ghost of a smile so small that maybe it didn't actually exist upon his lips.

"Seeking," came the correction; "I never wander."

To wander was to have no aim, and what a waste of time that would be. All that he did, there was always a purpose; or else it would not be worth doing. This was merely him, however, and not some standard of worthiness that he held others to. Like-minded individuals would always impress, however.

And lost? She couldn't know how laughable that notion was. These woods, hell this hemisphere of the Lore was the last place he would ever lose his way in. At least, physically. If the man had any taste for thinking metaphorically or negatively, he would've had quite the mental chew toy at his paws.

"Do you?"

The stranger remained some distance back, his expression unreadable in her eyes, though the lack of happier and friendlier expressions grabbed her attention before he spoke, his first words a correction… and she liked the answer. Too many times, the wolves she spoke to would answer the question as it was… “Some say wandering is good for the soul… and some wolves are likewise fools.” She agreed as she further examined him, from his posture to the way he spoke – there was something about him. He was an enigma that seemed to draw her in because he seemed more domineering, like he held the world in his paws.

She also hadn’t missed the fact that he’d been examining her, similar as she had to him with the ebony hues of his pelt and the large frame he’d been blessed with by genetics. He’d likely make a worthy opponent, potentially a valuable ally given his answer. His question did not change her intrigued expression, and she merely allowed the shake of her head. “Wandering is for the lost, and that is something I have never been.” She stated, a clear and precise tone, her words carefully thought out much like every action she made. There was no room for error in the way she held herself, because errors presented weakness and weakness left a gap for others to crush you with.

She didn’t know about the land, but that did not mean she was lost. She was in that forest for a reason, the darkness giving her comfort, an edge that she constantly walked along – it provided many things, things she searched for, shade, comfort, a mask she could easily hide her face in if she needed to, and the ability to lurk - her natural habitat.

(This post was last modified: Aug 27, 2016, 10:59 PM by Nascha.)

Good for the soul. Gent found the sentiment laughable for varying reasons not all pinned around purpose, and let out near-silent derisive breath of air that she could take as agreeance. Interested further, she connected the two which had previously been offered as separate responses, and given the calculating interest shining in her eyes, he had to wonder if that first query had been a test. Did she approach every potential kith in the same manner? He had to wonder.

The veracity of her statement could not be denied. Despite her age, she emanated control--not just over herself but over her situation--as well as a sense of great purpose. There was much to know about this, however he would only have a limited about of questions to ask if this was to be their only encounter. The shade king had not yet decided if he wanted to leverage the best offer he had with her, more information being needed.

"Even without a pack, far still from your second year and in a foreign land?" he tested; the latter he could not know for certain to be true, but he held faith in the guess.

"That's quite the sense of direction you must have."

The statement was not doubtful or patronizing, instead a play of words that was genuinely commending.

"Can I ask where, exactly, its leading you?"

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

They seemed to be evidently aware of the peering gaze of the other, though Nascha wasn’t about to comment on such things. If he had a problem with it, he didn’t seem the type to shrug it off, he seemed the type to confront her about it and thus it led her to believe he was content with his knowledge of just what she was doing. Another test, another check mark next to a box in her head… her interest only grew, she just wasn’t sure if that was particularly good for him, or if that would turn out to be the same interest she held towards the clan she’d been forced from… while wounds healed, they never quite faded.

She was very set in her ways, always had been and that had been part of the reason the weaklings had feared her as much as they had. She could not be controlled with tradition because the traditions had been far too flexible, too lenient to those who sinned… that had been truly laughable to her, and something she had tried to take into her own hands – evidently she’d done it one too many times. She had almost taken his words as a bit of a challenge. “And you are quick to presume these lands are foreign to me.” The bluff easily rolled from her tongue like any other words. She was new, but that did not mean she was about to admit that to a stranger, even one as interesting as him.

Then he asked the question that caused a light smirk on her maw. “You can ask, but I’m not too inclined to answer… especially not to a pack wolf with no cause to ask such things of a mere loner.” It was almost an appeal to his pride, probing, trying to figure out why he asked such a question. “What would you have to gain of knowing where my mind is pressing me to go?”

sorry sorry sorry

It was clear that she was enjoying this encounter, as each turn she took in their conversation seemed to be bolder than the last. His chin raised every so slightly as her words slipped into the air, pale eyes regarding that upward quirk of her mouth. She was strong willed, a powder keg that could be utilized or that might go off too early. With every word further she spoke, it was made all the more clear that any offers or pacts initiated with the youth would be a gamble on his part, yet he was becoming more and more convinced that she could be worth that risk. Were she years older, he might have held more reservations. Yet as solid as she emanated herself to be, her age made her appear more controllable if the need should arise. Hopefully, that wasn't just an illusion that would later give birth to an albatross he could not shake.

"That I'm a pack wolf is what gives me the leverage to pry," he answered in a levelled tone, a small smile still in place upon his own muzzle.

"I might be of use to you, but only if that means you'll be of use to me. Now or later, isn't as important. How depends on you as well. So you can turn your nose up at opportunity, or get yourself ahead."

(This post was last modified: Sep 25, 2016, 10:50 PM by Gent.)

@Gent <3

The more comfortable she felt with the situation in front of her, the more she pressed, the bolder she got – the fact was she likely wouldn’t be able to beat him in a fight… but that didn’t mean she couldn’t get away should she need to. The forest was dark and full of turns that she was confident she could utilize on the fly. She wasn’t all about reckless endangerment and tended to favor survival with minimal injuries on her part, especially given the harsh life that came in being alone. There was a small smile on his muzzle when he spoke next and she watched him intently.

She kept her features stoical, analytical, trying to find out what he was after when he offered her a logical explanation for why she should answer, taking a few seconds to ponder it with hints of suspicion in her eyes. “I’m seeking retribution.” It was an abstract concept she was seeking, not a set destination, but it still gave her purpose. She wasn’t wandering; she was looking for the tools she needed in order to succeed. “I’m listening though… what do you have to offer that could catch my attention?” She didn’t particularly trust easily, if that statement said anything about her. She was incredibly curious, but she had to maintain some false level of control over the situation.

If she liked what he could do for her, then she’d offer what she could do for him in return, and that was the undertone she left in her last sentence that hung in the air.