Drooping Willows [BWP] Take a Hint

July 10, midday, for @Vaken

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A recent heat wave has left the forest drier than usual.

Sometimes there was a cool breeze in the air and you could take a breath of it. The cool would go in your lungs and if you were lucky, there'd be more breezes. The yearling tried to think of the winter, how he'd been so cold and angry and hurt and bitter. The winter had been especially cold, but he had struggled being on his own, and had struggled to deal with emotions he wasn't sure what to do with. Winter had been hard. Laurel tried to remember how hard it had been as he lay there, dead coyote next to him, panting.

He was melting and he was certain of it.

Each quick breath he drew in was slowly melting his insides. Soon he'd be a puddle of Lauraceae goop. It was hard to decide if he hated winter or summer more with how much he was suffering right then. Maybe he hated both of them, but only hated them when he was experiencing them. Laurel wanted to be cold to the core, he wanted to be covered in snow and shivering like before. Instead he lay on the ground, eyes closed as he heavily panted.

He was worse for wear, but at the very least well-rested. The boy had not given up his coyote-killing tasks, as it seemed like everywhere he went, there they were. He had long before decided against running any longer and was now actively seeking the mangy mutts out. If he played his cards right, he could take one out, but more often than not Laurel was outnumbered. He was getting more skilled, but still seemed to struggle with the creatures.

He peeked an eye at the dead one next to him and shoved it away, sprawling out and praying for a breeze.

(This post was last modified: Jul 06, 2018, 08:16 PM by Lauraceae.)

Vaken Svart The grass under Vaken’s paws made a soft crunch sound as he walked forward. He was in alright condition. His fur was on the cleaner side, his ribs were hidden with a thin layer of muscle and fat, his eyes glistened with mischievous contentment. He was doing well for himself lately. With that in mind, he was extremely hot in the sun. His body temperature continued to climb each second he wasn’t under the shelter of shade. It felt good to keep walking though. It felt good to stretch his legs and exert some energy. His breathing was steady, but heavy. His tongue hung out his mouth as he panted, dripping pools of saliva on the hot ground. A few times the spit would hit his front paws instead, and the wolf would give a slight grimace of annoyance. He needed a swim. Sniffing through his nose, Vaken searched for a source of water. He could smell blood, coyote, wolf, pack, but not water. That annoyed him further, and he let out a grunt of dissatisfaction and continued his walk forward. That was when he saw him: @Laurel. Through slightly squinted eyes, Vaken saw the scarred fur of the familiar wolf. Instinctively, he hesitated, taking a second to make sure it was really him. Was that the same fur he grabbed previously? The same muzzle he tried to bite? The same flank he had desperately tried to rip open? He froze in place, his paw dangling in the air, before shaking it off. He wasn’t going to avoid the male just because of their previous fight. Vaken would fight again if he had to. He scoffed, loud enough to announce his arrival, then he stepped into the sunlight once more to reveal himself. The smell of blood was heavy in the air, it hit Vaken in the face like a wall. “Killed him yourself?” I feel numb, born with a weak heart I guess I must be having fun

currently travelling with Circe (she can jump in any of his threads)

He peeked an eye at the other wolf and then closed it, continuing to pant. Laurel wondered if he could just pretend Vaken wasn't there and, magically, he'd disappear. It didn't seem totally out of the realm of possibility, but even after a solid moment of silence, the other yearling did not leave. Lauraceae sighed and then swallowed thickly, wishing he were back at the cool lake in the mountain. Vaken didn't seem keen on starting a fight, which Laurel took to mean that they were on okay terms. For now. Plus, with Vaken having nothing for him to take, and with him having a full (or full enough) belly, there was no need to jump at the other and bark like a madman.

Laurel gestured for the dark coated wolf to join him in the shade. A truce, at least for now.

"I've been hunting them down," he closed his eyes again, "They're harassing everyone. I figured I might as well try and do something about it. If they're overpopulating, then we should just take care of their numbers... right?" he had not said the idea out loud before. Even though his insides were melting and everything was absolutely awful thanks to the dreadful heat, he felt confident in his solution.

The real truth was he was tired of being hunted, but pretending like he was some sort of valiant hero made him feel better. It felt... somehow wrong to act so selfishly, but to act selfish and claim to do something for the better of all wolves? It worked. Sort of.

(This post was last modified: Jul 06, 2018, 02:57 PM by Lauraceae.)

You encounter three coyotes marking a nearby tree.

OOC: Vaken is gonna ignore those coyotes for a second, but feel free to have Laurel acknowledge them

Vaken Svart “That explains why you look like shit,” Vaken mumbled, gesturing with his chin to the scars on Laurel’s body. The other wolf was in bad condition. It was blatantly obvious to the male that the other wolf was struggling to survive. His skin was scarred with fresh wounds, his bones jutted out. Vaken didn’t feel any guilt for his honesty. He meant it in a friendly way, but the words were still sharp. “You can’t just go around killing coyotes.” His eyes drifted along the other wolf’s spine and he took a seat beside him in the shade. Not comfortable enough to lay down, Vaken’s guard was slowly dropping. It felt good to take a break from his travels, but he wasn’t trusting. He pushed the dead coyote out of his way with a paw and turned to face his companion. “Maybe if you were pack you could,” he thought, his eyes clouding over at the idea. “But guys like you and me?” He gave a cold chuckle. “It’s gonna kill you,” he claimed. He starred at the dead body on the ground with dry exasperation. He shook his head, coming to terms with reality. “Maybe not right away. But you’re wasting the energy, you’re covering yourself in wounds.” He inched his way closer to the ground and gave a small shrug. I feel numb, born with a weak heart I guess I must be having fun

currently travelling with Circe (she can jump in any of his threads)

Yeah Laurel is too. We'll worry about the coyotes later haha

Laurel's eyes were open now, glaring at Vaken defiantly when he'd been informed that he couldn't go around killing coyotes. "I can," he sounded like a child, unwilling to be told no about something dumb. But the other yearling continued to talk and Laur looked away, glaring at the dead coyote. He didn't want to be mad at Vaken for telling the truth, but each word that was spoke just felt heavy with truth. He had nothing else to do in his small, meaningless life. He had no purpose, no friends, no companions, no family. Was it so wrong of him to just want something? So wrong that he was denied every little thing he asked for?

But Vaken was right. He was killing himself. Lauraceae had survived only by the kindness of strangers -- like the wolves of Fallen Tree Cove, or of Willow Ridge. It wasn't enough. Despite their help, Laurel continued to grow more and more tired by the day, fighting the coyotes gave him new wounds, new scars. The yearling's face scrunched up angrily and for a few moments, he was silent, angry at the hand he'd been dealt.

What was he to do? He yearned for guidance, for someone to just come by and tell him what he needed to do. This wasn't an unfamiliar feeling and despite it, Laurel knew he had to fight. Fight or die.

He turned his gaze to Vaken, determination burning in his firy eyes. "Then help me," this was an odd thing to say and he knew it. The two were at each others throats not too long ago, but maybe... maybe it could work. "We can help each other, we'll hunt together and share the food. Protect each other. We'll be pack. Maybe small, but.. pack enough."

Vaken Svart Vaken turned his head from the male. He had not been prepared for any of this. Not only was seeing Laurel a surprise, but hearing these words leave his mouth. Vaken was dumbfounded. His facial expression stayed relatively blank. Was this the same wolf he had tried to kill? It didn’t feel like it. He tried to mentally scramble the pieces together. The injuries on Laurel’s flesh, the scent of coyote blood, the starvation. This wolf needed help, but Vaken wasn’t a saviour. He fell silent for a short period of time, letting his brain process what the wolf had come up with, then he snorted. “I’m a lone wolf for a reason,”he grunted. The words came out sharper than he intended. The young male almost winced as he spoke, realizing that he was being unnecessarily harsh. As if to make up for it, he opened his mouth again, this time softer. “Listen, I can’t be your pack.” He turned his face back to Laurel and gave a guilty frown. It felt wrong on his tongue to say the words. “I mean- I could, but I won’t,” he corrected. He left his brother for a reason. He didn’t know how to explain why, so he didn’t. He wasn’t strong enough to kill coyotes casually. Outrunning them was his only defence, and it was working for him. He couldn’t be obligated for the well-being of another wolf. He wasn't ready to think about anyone but himself.  “I’ll stay with you for a night or two. We can help each other from the coyotes for a bit, but I am travelling south. I got some things I need to take care of.” I feel numb, born with a weak heart I guess I must be having fun

(This post was last modified: Jul 10, 2018, 12:21 AM by Vaken.)

currently travelling with Circe (she can jump in any of his threads)

Cant sounded much better than wouldn't. Couldn't meant there was some unstoppable force keeping him back, and at the very least that didn't deal a big blow to Laurel's pride. The yearling looked away, glaring at a bird that pecked at something in the grass. Vaken was right, he was being stupid. Laurel wanted to laugh; it must have been the heat that was making him come up with crazy ideas. Or, if not that, the impending doom that he was going to end up just like his father: found dead and frozen in the forest. He went to lay his head on his paws, trying hard to accept both his fate and the darker boy's rejection.

Laurel snorted at the other boy's proposition. "No, I don't need your help," well, he did need help, but not Vaken's, "I just wanted.." he trailed off, trying to finish the sentence. A friend? Purpose? Something, anything? He let out an exasperated sigh. He didn't know what he wanted, and maybe that was the hardest part. He could smell coyote, and wondered why Vaken wanted to run and why he wanted to fight. "You go do whatever it is you're doing south," he stood, nose to the air as he gave a few more sniffs. The coyotes weren't near, not yet. But they would be. "I'll figure out what to do." Or die trying. Laurel looked down at the dead coyote.

Probably die trying.

Vaken Svart If Vaken had the ability to scream, he would have. Not at the boy in particular, but into the wind, just to release some emotion. He felt like a bottle, overfilled with feelings and unspoken thoughts. He didn’t know how to get the words out, how to explain what he was feeling. He didn’t know how to comfort the boy, how to offer any help without being condescending or seeming disingenuous. He stayed perfectly still, not even his fur blowing in the wind. He was a statue. He felt anger, then annoyance, then confusion, then acceptance. Finally, he let out a long, impatient sigh. “I don’t want to leave you to the coyotes,” he grumbled. “For their sake, and yours. I am not going anywhere right now-  just- don’t make it weird.” He itched behind his ear with a back-leg, looking off into the distance. His mouth felt dry and he felt uncomfortable. He hadn’t meant to upset Laurel. He didn’t necessarily feel guilty about it either. Instead, he felt like he was stuck in a blackhole. He wasn’t sure where he was going, or what the next right moves were going to be. If Laurel really wanted him gone, he’d leave, but it didn’t feel right. Snapping his head up, Vaken smelt coyote on the breeze. “They’re getting closer.” I feel numb, born with a weak heart I guess I must be having fun

currently travelling with Circe (she can jump in any of his threads)

Lauraceae growled. Leave him to the coyotes. Bah! He'd been left to the coyotes the months before, and maybe he was dragging a little bit, but over-all he was doing alright. He wasn't dead, and he still felt like he could run. "I'm not—" having trouble piecing together the right words, he just cut himself off. Part of him knew not to be angry at the other boy, but another part of him just thought Vaken as an easy target. His face wrinkled, he saw a coyote out of the corner of his eye. "I'm not this weak little boy who can't handle himself," he was starting to think that others thought that about him. That he needed to be saved. Perhaps that was the only reason Adeltra had begged her own leader to let him stay with them.

Laurel didn't want that. "I'm still standing, aren't I?" He could do this on his own, he just had to figure out how.

Two more coyotes appeared, glaring at the two yearlings. Another growl rumbled in his throat, this time directed at their new company. "We'll split here, I'm sure we can both outrun them," though Laurel never liked to run; he wanted to fight. Was it bad, to want to fight? He wasn't sure. Looking over to the other yearling, he couldn't think of any parting words. Good luck, maybe? A simple goodbye? Maybe ask a name, give his own? Did he even care about knowing the other boy's name? He settled on a nod.