Larkcall Lowlands its a wreck in dire vocabulary

 

Her flight from the oaklands had been a spur-of-the-moment thing. Sure, Kratha had been considering it for a while now, but she wasn't the kind of girl with any real spine, and the thought of leaving the place where she felt she most belonged was painful. What hurt most was the thought of never seeing Tama again - but at the same time, as she realized it was Tama who kept her rooted, there was a modicum of fear behind the sentiment. Some part of the girl did not wish to fully accept the butterfly-feeling in her chest, or the warmth and comfort Tama's presence often presented. She withdrew; she grew nervous during gatherings, and avoided alone time with the leader as their confidence grew. And then, when it seemed as if the pack was well-off enough that Kratha could fade in to the woodwork (pun not intended), she slipped away from Gnarled Oaks, thinking that maybe Tama wouldn't notice. It was her fear that drove her away.

Her resistance to the simple fact she wished so hard was untrue: she was in love with her best friend.

   As a result of her abandonment, Kratha slept little. She traced a trail across familiar terrain for a while, until only strangeness met her paws. Paths she'd never crossed, scents she'd never smelled.. All the while, the girl thought of Tama. It was a bittersweet journey. The days melted together, and so too did the nights; Kratha did not know where she was going or for how long she would run, but run she did. Away, away, away, until the land transformed before her eyes. Much like the flight from Saurfang to the land of Gnarled Oaks, things were vastly different; beautiful, but so unlike anything that Kratha knew. The trees had thinned out, but not to the point of being a wasteland. Actually the more she saw and considered, there was more life here than anywhere she'd ever been before - vibrant, ever-changing, and everywhere.

Grasses sprung up in clusters of autumn golds and browns, some reds that were intense and interesting to the worn-out traveler; flowers she'd never seen before but found alluring. The land rolled on for eternity it seemed, but it wasn't dead. It wasn't made of dust and emptiness, bones and sun and terrible heat - and as Kratha investigated another cluster of plants, staccato-stepping over a shale deposit,she decided that leaving had been a good choice.

Kratha could start over here. Make a name for herself - or change her name, be someone else, someone better. Thoughts of Tama loomed always, but in time they would fade. People often faded from her life; this time, she instigated the separation. This time, it was on her own terms - even if it hurt. 

(This post was last modified: May 24, 2017, 07:03 PM by Kratha. Edit Reason: dohtml tags )

So far, Cole hadn’t had much luck in finding other wolves – and frankly, the younger loner wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. Yes, it meant he was safe, didn’t run into any cruel or cantankerous wolves…but he was also lonely. Very lonely. Which wasn’t to say he had a great deal of friends (or any friends at all) in Ritter’s Ridge, but there had at least been other wolves. And his mother. If he wanted to talk, there was someone to listen. If he wanted to be quiet and just be around someone, he could do that too.

But his venture into these fields was too quiet. The lake was nice, for a time, but Coleus wasn’t much of a fisher, and there wasn’t much else to eat besides turtles. He had no idea how to eat a turtle. He wasn’t really sure he wanted to. But what he did want was a pack – or at least another wolf to help – and so he ventured further into the grassy lowlands.

The youth was well on the trail of a marmot (or something like that) when he caught the scent of another wolf. She was far closer than marmot, and his aching belly was temporarily forgotten. The grey wolf chuffed softly when the other came into sight, his tail wagging hopefully behind him. “Uhm, hello? Are you hunting too?”

 

Kratha was investigating a particularly curious cluster of wild plants (they were ragweed, but she didn't know anything about anything, so it was beautiful and new and interesting) when a voice broke her concentration. She had found scents of other wolves before; she had even met a few rogues in her travel between Gnarled Oaks and.. wherever this was. So maybe these were good excuses as to why she hadn't noticed the boy? Her mind was always elsewhere - always wandering in reverse and then lurching to the present, trying to ignore the guilt in her heart.

Hunting? She parroted then, lifting her head and turning to watch the stranger as if he'd suggested something more ridiculous, like flying or space travel. Kratha was mid-step; she crunched her paw down across the ragweed (likely killing it) and decided that hunting was a very good idea. I could hunt - you needin' a partner? For a rogue she was surprisingly adaptable. The kid didn't seem too dangerous on first glance though, and she was in need of something to sustain her after the great distance she'd just put between herself and her inevitable future. Sure, why not!   

 

(This post was last modified: May 27, 2017, 04:06 AM by Kratha. Edit Reason: fixing speech tags )

“Hunting?” she asked, and the silver yearling bobbed his head. Perhaps he hadn’t spoken very clearly? Coleus had never been known as a particularly loud wolf, but the lad hadn’t considered himself to be very quiet, either. Something to note, he supposed, his orange eyes studying the female. He didn’t detect the smell of any other wolves on her – it was a relief, albeit a small one. His tail continued its hopeful wiggle until she spoke back up, and this time, the young loner gave a much more vigorous nod of his head.

“Yes!” he crowed, utterly delighted.

And then the actually meaning behind her question settled on his mind, and his brows furrowed. That’s not what he meant. “Ah, I mean, I don’t need a partner, but two wolves are certainly better than one! We can take something bigger than a squirrel or groundhog, and we’ll both have more than enough!”

Coleus might have cringed, if the darker wolf wasn’t still watching him. Gosh, that sounded…stupid. Eager. Okay, maybe he was both of those things, but he really shouldn’t be advertising it so blatantly. All he wanted was a full belly. Maybe he’d stop saying such ridiculous things if he could stop thinking about the constant pain twisting inside his gut.

 

Kratha nodded. Yeah obviously, you'n'me can both take down something ourselves, she played along with his rambling, finding it more endearing than strange. A lot like Tama actually - a realization that came and went so quickly you'd never notice the clench of her jaw. The dark girl continued to stride along, moving around her new hunting buddy as she investigated him as well as the surroundings; but then she stopped and looked off in to the distance - something had moved. Do you hear that?She wasn't sure if there was anything at all, or if it had just been the wind. What sort of amazing luck could they have? Mention food, and suddenly there is food? Kratha sniffed the air and squinted in to the light, but couldn't tell if there was anything. Maybe something had heard them talking, or smelled them, and run off? Whatever. They'd find something if they just took a second to prowl.   

 

(This post was last modified: Jun 01, 2017, 10:21 PM by Kratha.)

Did you hear that?

Coleus’ head jerked sideways, ears straining – shit, no. He hadn’t heard it! He’d been too busy listening to his new friend…or acquaintance? He hoped they could be friends, maybe, if this went well enough. He swung around to the woman’s side, squinting in the same direction. The light made it very hard to see, but by the good luck of nature, they had managed to get themselves downwind. Perhaps they truly were lucky today, because it was more than a rabbit or a ground hog – it was nothing he’d ever smelt before. It stunk!

The gray wolf crept forward, ears swiveling as he started to vanish into the tall grass of the lowlands – he paused only long enough to motion with his muzzle for his new partner to follow after him – until a dark shape came into sight. The ugly creature seemed not to notice them, too intent on shoving its muzzle through the grass like a till. “You ever see anything like it?” he whispered to the dark female, glancing over. “Think we could take it?”

Fortunately for the pair of hungry loners, the wild boar was a juvenile one, no more than little nubs instead of tusks.