Driftwood Surge no roots

RE: Violent Thunderstorms overtake Relic Lore. AW but family in particular are welcome @Leith @Legolas / Lachesis @Lavender

I've got memories and travel like gypsies in the night

Why was it so loud? It intimidated the young girl, but it also couldn't keep her curiosity at bay. She found herself heading towards the mouth of the den as silently as possible so she wouldn't earn a scolding from her mother to see what was causing such a ruckus outside. To her surprise, upon stepping outside, her fur started to feel weird. Little drops hitting her from all sides, causing her to growl. She was under attack! Perhaps Leith had done this somehow! Her ears flattened against her skull as she yelped. It wasn't that it felt bad it was just new and she didn't know how to explain it.

"M-ma-mama." She whined softly, still finding herself unable to move to a location outside the den where she wasn't being assaulted. It felt like a sensory overload. The smells, the blurry forms that kept hitting the ground, and the feeling of her fur all wet. "P-pa-papa." And just like that, she'd used just about the extent of her vocabulary to call out for the only two wolves she was familiar with who weren't as small as she was. Others occasionally popped in, but usually Val was wrapped up in her own adventurous exploits to even notice them.

PP of lachy picking up mak by the scruff and carrying her to the base of a tree; let me know if it's not okay/you want anything changed! <3

It did not take long for the Stark children to test their limits outside the den, although they never got too far. Their stubby legs were still weak and uncoordinated, cutting the majority of their adventures short as they usually crumpled to the ground in defeat. Legolas had taken after Lavender and kept to the mouth of the den, his navy blue orbs observing the outside world with obvious disinterest. The other two, however, had embraced Kyrios and Lilliana’s spirit and embraced the world beyond the den. Which, of course, made the weary father grey with worry. Especially on a day where the sky opened up and pummelled the earth with an onslaught of rain drops. P-pa-papa. The small voice reached his ears as he marched back toward his mate’s den, causing a fearful expression to unfold across his pale features. His pace quickened as he scampered forward, his long legs closing the gap between himself and his daughter with ease. Without hesitation the ghost scooped up the tawny girl and padded toward the closest tree. He slumped against the ground and released her, nestling her close against his chest as he listened to the soft hummm of rain hitting the ground. You alright, Mak? He cooed as he pressed a soft lick to her forehead, his chartreuse gaze softening as he searched for signs of trauma.

stick with those who stick with you

I've got memories and travel like gypsies in the night

It wasn’t long after calling out to her parents that she felt a pressure on her scuff, her father picking her up and carting her to the safety of shelter from the form. She curled up into his warm fur as he asked if she was alright, a soft nod as her nose twitched. She loved the feeling of the strange droplets hitting her fur, but once they were there, they made her feel all gross and wet, which she didn’t like nearly as much. “What it?” She asked with her broken speech, looking out, trying to concentrate on what was falling from the sky.

Another light lit up the sky, a crack of thunder following which caused her to start shaking, trying to curl more into her father’s comforting embrace to hide form the scary noises that sounded like they were about to attack her. It was so strange to say the least. The tawny girl was still amazed by it all. If it weren't for the sounds from the sky, she likely would have wandered out again to discover where the strange drops were coming from...

Lee was awoken by the boom of thunder, his head shooting up and puppy blue gaze looking out to capture the next flash of light. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, but unlike most wolves he didn’t recoil in fear. No, the thrumming sensation within him accompanied by his increased heart rate, otherwise known as fear reaction, simply enticed him to move toward the huge sound. He wondered what it was, wondered what kind of thing made that kind of sound. Could it teach him?

He stepped outside and was instantly pelted by rain, auds laying flat on his skull as his eyes squinted. One of the droplets landed in his eye and he winced, a warbling puppy growl escaping his jaws. How dare it! He was the mighty Leith Stark, he wouldn’t be attacked without retribution. He lunged at the sky, little jaws opening and snapping closed at the estimated source. As he landed his legs couldn’t support his weight and he toppled back, wriggling in an effort to return to his paws. Once he was righted he gave himself a big shake, his normally downy cream fur matted with mud and brush. He barked at the sky angrily.

The sounds coming from beyond the den were even more of a reason for the dusty Stark to remain inside. A disgruntled frown sprawled across his stumpy maw, his ears flattening tight against the back of his head. He pressed his stomach to the cool ground, his denim blue gaze narrowing as he tried to make out the blurry shapes in the distance. There was a familiar voice, distorted by the onslaught of moisture falling from the sky, but still familiar. Dad. His tail thumped weakly against the ground but he remained where he was, like a frightened statue. Leith, of course, slipped past him and stomped into the clearing. Their sister was out there, somewhere, too. Likely with their father. His nose wrinkled as he wriggled closer to the mouth of the den, his expression still tight as he tried to make sense of all the shapes outside. It was dark and damp smelling, and water had begun to pool at the entrance, threatening to spill onto his creamy paws. Humph. Why would anyone want to go out there? 

What it? His daughter’s question was muted against the rain but did not slip past his pointed ears as he pressed another lick to her forehead. The rain, he explained softly as he laid his chin down on the ground beside his daughter’s tawny frame, his chartreuse gaze fixated on the falling liquid. It comes from the clouds in the sky. He paused, his brows tight as he returned his attention to little Makvala. He did not know how much she understood, or retain, but it didn’t matter. The sky must be angry. For now it was a good enough explanation for the little sparrow. He’d explain more about the weather when she was able to remember and understand.

It did not take long for the oldest of the litter to join his sister in the storm, his pale shape streaking through the rain drops as he flailed against the water bullets. An amused laugh tumbled off his tongue as he watched, even though the familiar shadow of worry hung off his shoulders. He made a mental note to grab some herbs from Emrys’ den to fight off any impending colds the little Stark’s might acquire from being out in the rain. As much as he wanted to coddle the pale Stark child, Lachesis let him play in the muck for now. When he decided that the boy had enough grime for one day the ghost would attempt at recalling his son.  

(This post was last modified: May 31, 2018, 04:00 AM by Lachesis.)

stick with those who stick with you

I've got memories and travel like gypsies in the night

Her father started to explain that it was the rain, and that the sky was angry so the clouds were dropping the small pellets of water and yelling at them… the explanation frightened her a little bit. What had they done to make the sky so angry at them? Of course, she just had to ask, to get to the bottom of it all. “Why angwy?” She tried to understand further, though she didn’t think her brain would ever be able to fully understand why these things were happening.

Of course, right after she asked her father a question, the annoying one had to make his debut, snapping his jaws at the sky. He was just going to make it more angry! She couldn’t help but roll her eyes as she let out a growl at him – it wasn’t meant to be aggressive, but hold more of a scolding tone to it. "Pa, he make mowr mad!" She whined softly, ears pressing against her skull. Perhaps her father could get Leith to stop agitating the sky.

(This post was last modified: Jun 20, 2018, 07:57 AM by Makvala.)

The boy paid no mind to his sister and father’s conversation, more interested in what was happening around him. The rain was slowly starting to get heavier, drenching his pelt enough that water was dripping steadily beneath him. This only further added to the mud puddle growing at his feet. He took a step forward in his barking, the soil beneath him squishing and he paused. Puppy blue eyes looked down, brows furrowing in curiosity. He lifted his little paw and stepped back down, the mud squishing between his paw pads again and he grinned. Then, the Stark boy started bucking around like a bronco. He romped in the mud, reveling in the chaos it felt like it was creating. He was sticky and muddy and gross, and he didn’t have a care in the world about it.

Makvala’s growl, chastising in a way that made him roll his eyes. She and Leggy were the same, they were such fuddy duddies. Okay, maybe his sister was better than Leggy. But it wasn’t by much. He stuck his tongue out at her, splashing a bit of the muck her way.

The ivory boy was desperately trying to pair the sounds with the shapes he recognized. Rain: he assumed that was the strange wet stuff falling from the sky. Clouds. His nose lifted. The white, fluffy splotches in the big, blue sky. That word he knew very well. Sky was up; big blue up. He liked the sky—mostly because it was always different. Every time he looked up it had changed, surprising the boy with something new. Sometimes it was dark and scary, but most of the time it was bright and welcoming. It was a good, and the boy liked it very much. Just like the clouds.

But the rain? He did not know if he liked the falling water just yet.

As he leaned forward to examine the scene before him a big water drop—splash!—fell onto the middle of his forehead. His nose wrinkled immediately as he recoiled from the ran, his head shaking as he attempted to eliminate the excess water. Why would anyone want to go out in the wet? He huffed in frustration as he kept himself confined to the den, his tail tucking tight against his small body.

It was remarkable how different the three Starks were already.

Leith was bold and confident, flinging himself into action without a care in the world. Determined was a better word, or fearless.

Makvala was fierce like her older brother but more observant; careful. She was full of youthful curiosity and questions, always wanting to know why, why, why? She definitely took after her mother the most, and for that Lachesis was thankful. He was not sure where Leith had gotten his spunk—wherever Lilliana had gotten hers from, most likely. The rapping superstar would have been quite fond of her pale brother if she had been in the Surge. The father just hoped that the tawny Stark would make a return debut to the Surge to meet her younger siblings…

Legolas, unfortunately, had taken after him. He was nervous and cautious; frightened by his own shadow most days. Even Lavender had been less anxious than the ivory boy as a cub, but he knew (hoped) that little Legolas would grow into himself and, hopefully, out of the nerves that consumed him (just as Lachesis and Lavender had).

Not sure why the sky is angry, he hummed softly, his head tipping to the side, its mood changes all the time. But it’s not always bad. Sometimes the sky is sad, or happy. Rain can be good or bad. He paused, curious as to whether the little sparrow was absorbing his words or not. Rain gives life to all the green. Without rain nothing would grow.

A small laugh escaped him at the girl’s protest. No, Leith won’t make the sky angry, do not worry. His chartreuse gaze swept over to the pale boy as he bounced around the mud. He’s talking to it.

stick with those who stick with you