Iridescent Lagoon the night manager

January 15th; Early evening; Overcast Clouds; 12.2° F, -11° C.
Skoll, a sudden cool breeze picks up, despite the warmth, sending a shiver down your spine.

The light snowfall from yesterday did little to faze the night-furred Archer. Even when the world had seemingly frozen over in the wee hours of the morning, he still found it in his to rise and carry on with his usual nighttime patrol. The sun had just set but he still squinted out into the snow-blanketed world as he picked his way through the Scowle and began to traverse the borders where other pack members had passed through before him. His gait was sluggish, and his body language was stiff, but the slight wag in his tail told others that he was indifferent to the idea of having a companion for a midnight stroll.

Every so often his black head lowered, testing the air and sampling the scents that mingled on the invisible border the Pookastone Scowle Leaders had set. It was hard to think that his youngest son and daughter were old enough now to manage on their own. Having chased off a band of renegade coyotes and made certain that they wouldn't return had taken a toll on him; he simply hadn't realized then that the cost had been the energy he had been saving for, say, taking Anduin for a lesson in scavenging or teaching Vaeda how to hunt mice and other small prey. Now, just like before, his bones ached and he swore, when he walked, he could hear his elbows and knees creak. From the very start, he had had a very easy life - with family and pack, a full belly for most of the seasons, and a lover at any given time to dote upon him - but ever since he had run into the three women who had sought to him theirs, he had been getting by on the bare minimum of things. Celandine, the woman who had saved him from the hell he thought he had wanted to rule, got everything; and, if not her, then their cubs... for the sake of their survival.

He smiled to himself as he stopped near a particular tree with a trunk that bent one way and then the other. When had he become so mellow? It was funny, at least to him, that his wildly rebellious side had finally been put to rest; beneath the right Leader he was pleasant and amicable, perhaps even obedient. His ears cupped forward at the sound of an owl's territorial hoot, watching and waiting for anything that might come forward from the darkness beyond what his lupine eyes could see. The mid-winter chill combed its fingers through his thick fur and he shivered, suddenly afraid that somewhere between Devilsbite Dell and southern Relic Lore he had died without knowing it...

i'm a dreamer, i'm a man

i'm doing whatever i can to make the bad things go away

Hope you don't mind me creeping in here.

Wind swept through her fur, caressing the ivory tendrils as it sought a way to seep into her bones, but it's meager attempts would prove futile. With a coat too thick to penetrate, and her pristine coloring a near perfect match to the vast expanse of white underpaw, Celandine was built for winter. 

She crossed the borders in search of him, his voice, his gaze, without any real urgency. Though it wasnt her first time seeking him out without reason, it was the first time the woman had ever really been aware of this change in her being. Love was, perhaps, the strangest, most illogical thing that Celandine had ever experianced. It made sense only in that she felt like it did. For all intents and purposes, she knew that it had given her a tangible weakness. She had given him the power to hurt her, the power to be used against her. It had forced the otherwise selfish woman to think not only of herself, but of him as well. A fact that could prove dangerous should they ever find themselves in a sticky situation. It shouldn't have made any sense to her, and yet she found that she'd never been so sure of anything else.

Wind curled up over the hill as she neared, dragging the light covering of snow into the air like mist on a cool summer night. Had she been paying attention, Celandine might have stopped to admire it, but her bright gaze had already latched onto Skoll's form. A playful smile crept onto her maw as she considered him. Stark black against the light crystalline cover that painted the rest of the world in white. An owl sounded off somewhere in the distance, and his ears pressed forward. There was a silence then, as her own paws stilled, and she waited. When no further noise presented itself, she allowed a chuff to echo out into the air between them.

 "Waiting for someone?"

(This post was last modified: Feb 03, 2019, 03:10 AM by Celandine.)

Have you seen my OOC preferences?

Always totally okay to creep in. <3

His body trembled from the aftermath of the initial shiver, but when a her voice came to him, he released the lungful of air he didn't realize he had been holding. The soft sound of exhaled air beforehand had prevented him from being startled. Even if he had been spooked, he knew he shouldn't have been. There were only a few wolves who sought him out at this time of the day before his patrol, but more often than not, it was simply her...

He slowly turned to face her, a streak of shaded white in the dark. The half moon hiding behind the mess of clouds in the sky shone just enough for him to pick her out against a backdrop of winter-touched forest and low-lying reeds that were bent from the seemingly never-ending snow storms. He offered her a small smile; if he had still been with or under the influence of the wild women of Devilsbite Dell, he might have questioned Celandine's presence. As he was, he was at least half-certain that he was merely in a fog - a telltale sign that he had gone long enough in a state of near-constant solitude. His tail gave a more animated wag and he bowed his head to her, readjusting his stance in a conspicuous display of subordination.

"No, no," he assured her, his tone hushed but unmistakably sociable and gladdened by her company. "Just making sure everything's as it should be." He looked her over, admiring every snow white hair on her body before clearing his throat, "Were you looking for someone?"

i'm a dreamer, i'm a man

i'm doing whatever i can to make the bad things go away

She traced the lines of his maw as he turned, the greying edges far darker in the shadow of the bent tree, and with the moon behind the clouds. She wondered whether she would be greying now too, or if her genetics would have blessed her with a few more years of youth. Luckily, her coat would make it difficult, if not impossible to tell. 

The corners of his lips turned upwards, and her tail swept once to either side in response. The leader chanced a step forward, and then another, closing the distance between them with a deliberate slowness. She acknowledged his display of submission with a nod, and another wave of her lightly raised tail before letting it drop into a neutral stance. They weren't in Pookastone for the moment, so she hardly felt the need to make any sort of display towards her status.

Celandine stopped a few tail lengths in front of him, tilting her head ever so slightly to the right. "I see." The woman continued on with mischief dripping from her tongue. "Perhaps." She gave a halfhearted shrug. "But it seems like he's not here. Maybe you've seen him?" She watched his features as she spoke, curious to know how he'd react. "He's about your height, very mannerly, with brilliant grey eyes."

(This post was last modified: Feb 03, 2019, 08:21 AM by Celandine.)

Have you seen my OOC preferences?

"I see," she mused back at him. "Perhaps."

Skoll, for the time being, was only slightly amused with her tone. Once upon a time, he, too, talked in potential riddles and playful schemes. His smile twitched, a sign of him acknowledging her inkling of a ruse. While he wasn't as tired as he had felt in weeks past, he was simply neutral... perhaps for the first time in his life.

When she spoke again he canted his own head to the left, mirroring her as he considered her words. The man she was looking for was not here. She was wondering if he had seen him - him being in her words "about his height, very mannerly, with brilliant grey eyes." If he was going to be honest with himself, she could have very well described his brother Niles or his near-copy of a son Samael. However, those Archers were not nearby - at least, not to his knowledge anyway.

He righted his head as he looked down at her feet in the snow. Flawless white on flawless white. "I don't know," he answered, voice almost flat if it weren't for the slight lilt of mirth in it. He still didn't know what it was about his mate when she spoke to him, but there was just something about the way she talked. It awakened certain parts of him he thought he had lost... Almost like they spoke the same language - only he was just out of practice.

In all reality, he knew deep within that something had been displaced, but he couldn't be sure just yet what exactly it was. He took a slow step towards her, closing the distance just a little as if inviting only the idea of her touch. "Out here there's only me," he crooned, picking up now on her flavor of words. "If you're into placid princes and sad sovereigns." Well, 'sad' wasn't particularly the right word, but Skoll definitely hadn't felt right in his own pelt for some time now. His smile suddenly had a bit of sadness in it, as if at any moment it might turn downwards or fall away completely, "I am very glad you're here, though. That gent you're looking for must be one lucky guy to have you."

i'm a dreamer, i'm a man

i'm doing whatever i can to make the bad things go away

Her smile grew bigger when his twitched, not just because he had found some humor in her game, but because she enjoyed the way his face seemed to change when the corners of his lips turned upwards. There was, in her opinion, something to be said about Skoll's smile. Something in the way that it made her feel special, as if when he flashed it, he did so for her, and her alone. Celandine often wondered if everyone lucky enough to see it felt the same. 

That grin could have wormed it's way into anyone's heart, could have burned empires to the ground, and he could have sat high atop his hypothetical thrown and ruled them all without lifting a paw, yet here he was, humoring the woman in her little games. Perhaps she could have done those things too, with her delicate features, and honey soaked tongue. There were so many things they could have done, could have been, but all of that seemed secondary now. 

Celandine felt her brow raise as Skoll's head swiveled to the side. While the woman often found herself in this position, the gesture was unexpected from him. She tried to hide her amusement with this fact, but crinkle of her nose betrayed her. 

"I don't know," 

She feigned a sigh. "That's too bad." He took a step forward, slowly, just as she had done to him. 

"If you're into placid princes and sad sovereigns" 

His sentence ended on a low note, and his expression changed. There was a.. sadness there. Immediately her head righted itself, and her ears slipped back. Pale brows knit themselves together as she silently questioned him. Whatever she might have said in response to his statement had died on her tongue, lost in the soft concern she felt. It was the first time that this sort of reaction had ever really fallen over her, but she allowed it anyway.

Pale limbs crept forward slowly, so that she might touch her nose to the soft spot where his head met his neck, and provide whatever comfort she could. "He's not half as lucky as I am."

Have you seen my OOC preferences?

February was just not nice to me. Apologies on my behalf. x(

He could feel his fur warm under her stare, his body ultimately heating up where she seemed to prepare herself to nuzzle her face into his neck. Only her nose touched. Wistful. Yes, that was the word he had been looking for. His tail gave a low wag. The term 'empty' could have been applicable to his current condition, but was he really empty? His eyes looked over Celandine's side, an almost endless vertical sea of plush winter white fur. No. At this moment, he had everything he had ever needed at his side. There was no need to feel this way and yet... here he was.

"I'm sorry, love," he whispered to her. "If... If I haven't been able to give you all you deserve."

His tall black ears slowly angled backwards, uncertainty suddenly gripping him by his nape and shoulders. The whites of his eyes rimmed his pupils in crescent moons as he felt the sudden urge to avert his gaze. His tail felt limp and his head bowed down, much like a horse's would when it was let out to the pasture to graze. "I feel..." There was a pause where he took a quick second to take personal inventory. "I feel like I'm not here." In a hesitant sort of rocking movement, he leaned into her touch, nestling the side of his face into her shoulder. He could hear her heartbeat, smell the familiarity of her scent, feel that she was just as tangible as he was when their fur lightly entangled. "I want... I want to do more. What is it I can I do for you?"

i'm a dreamer, i'm a man

i'm doing whatever i can to make the bad things go away

No worries! I'm just glad that you're feeling good enough to post!!

Celandine pressed her nose into Skoll's neck, breathing in the pine and salt that all Scowle wolves carried. Those she'd found, didn't matter so much as the ones that were distinctly his own. The scents that would mark him regardless of location, and pack. His voice interrupted her train of thought, and her heart sank as an apology whispered it's way into her ear. Bright eyes searched the darkness of his shoulder, as though she might be able to pluck the answers from his soul, but there were no answers. Not here. Not to this. "Skoll.." She tried to speak, but the words fell flat on her tongue.

His ears swivelled back to match her own, and his head fell towards the ground. He seemed.. almost vulnerable there, though she'd never admit it aloud. This was not the Skoll that she had met at the base of the mountains, nor the one she had found on the rise. He wasn't the man she had taken nearly a year ago, but perhaps he was the one who had come back to her after the coyote debacle. Celandine wondered then if she was the same woman he had met, the one he had confessed to, the one who had bore his children. Maybe they were both different now, and maybe... maybe that was ok.

"I feel like I'm not here."

She had to suppress the whine threatening to bubble up from her chest, choosing instead to run her nose down his neck until her cheek could lay flush against his shoulder. When Skoll asked what more he could do, Cela felt herself falter. The thing was, that she didn't need him to do more, because it had never been about what he could do for her. "I just.. I want you to talk to me. Tell me what's bothering you. I never know what you're thinking.. or what you really want. With others I can guess.. but with you I just.. I never know." She averted her own gaze then, either embarrassed, or unsure of herself. "When... When you say that you feel like you're not here, I want you to tell me what that means."

(This post was last modified: Mar 10, 2019, 01:48 AM by Celandine.)

Have you seen my OOC preferences?

She wanted him to talk to her. Skoll felt his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth. She spilled it all, "I never know what you're thinking.. or what you really want. With others I can guess.. but with you I just.. I never know." Once upon a time, Skoll Archer was immune to guilt. He owed nothing to anyone; they all owed him. Times had definitely changed.

"I'm still afraid," he confided, his voice softening enough to where only she could hear him. He swallowed, his mind suddenly wandering off in all different directions. Staring at the ground, he pressed his paws in the hardened frost until he could no longer hear or feel the crunch beneath his toes. "When our cubs no longer need us, what then?"

It felt ridiculous; he hadn't felt like this with his other cubs. Hell, he had been so proud when Sven had managed on his own... even more so when Macha, Samael, Judas, Ramiel and Nuriel had braved the unknown to follow their father into the wilderness. He ground his teeth together, frantically scrounging around in his head for more words - specifically, ones that weren't honey-coated or meant to be served up with a quicksilver tongue. While he could have described himself as dead, he did not want to admit it.

"What does Spring look like?" His eyes closed and he released a shaky breath. Uncertainty. Half-wonder, half-doubt. There was almost a restlessness there in the way he shifted his weight. "I feel like... I can't see past this darkness. Feeling like I didn't survive that coyote hunt. N-not knowing what comes next when I already feel so old."

i'm a dreamer, i'm a man

i'm doing whatever i can to make the bad things go away

The woman's ear twitched to catch Skoll's whispered fears, and her jaw clenched to prevent her teeth from chattering in response. She too had asked herself what would happen when their children no longer needed them, though if she were bring honest with herself, that day had already passed. They were nearly yearlings now, and plenty old enough to fend for themselves. They didnt need her anymore, and they hadn't for a while. 

Uncertainty trickled down her spine as Skoll continued. His words hit too close to home, too close to the questions she had been asking herself. Perhaps she should have spoken her own fears aloud before now, but it was hard. It was hard for Celandine to admit that she didnt have the answers, and even harder to admit that there was nothing she could do to fix it. "I don't know." The words tasted so bitter on her tongue "But I'm... I'm scared too." Scared of losing their children, of losing Morganna and Renier, scared of losing him. It felt like somewhere along the line the woman had become so afraid of losing that she'd forgotten how to really live. 

The last words in his confession were perhaps the most important, and while she didnt quite understand what he meant, she figured she could take a guess at it. Because sometimes she wondered if there was anything past the darkness too. "I... dont know what comes next, either. I don't know if I'll ever stop being afraid... or if you'll ever come home from your hunt, but maybe someday we'll know what spring looks like, what it feels like to be warm." Her voice was uncharacteristically small as she finished, still unable to bring her gaze up from the light covering of snow on the ground. "And.. I think we keep going until then. You, and I. The two of us. We just keep living, because we have no choice."

(This post was last modified: Mar 11, 2019, 09:03 PM by Celandine.)

Have you seen my OOC preferences?