Windsong Fjord it takes a boy to live

Glacial Slide, 41.60601, 94.27083
Nestled within the rugged embrace of the fjord, this sub-territory unveils a breathtaking panorama defined by an icy slope that doesn’t seem to melt. It descends majestically from the towering peaks above. The air is crisp and pure, carrying the invigorating scent of cold, pristine ice. The slope, glistening with a subtle blue hue, is a testament to the ancient glacial forces that shaped this awe-inspiring landscape. The ever-present chill in the air is a reminder of the harsh but beautiful environment that characterizes this slope. Yet, despite the apparent desolation, life persists. Hardy plants, adapted to the frigid conditions, cling to the rocky outcrops, adding a touch of green to the otherwise icy palette. Seabirds wheel overhead, their calls echoing through the fjord as they navigate the winds with effortless grace. This slope is not just a frozen landscape; it's a testament to the power of nature, a place where ice and water collaborate to create a scene of unparalleled beauty and serene grandeur.
Click.

give me your heart

and i'll give you my soul

to just feel a little piece of heaven

There was a silence that lingered through her, her eyes glancing down the slope that persisted in front of her that led nearly straight to the water’s edge. Hardy plants poking through the snow stubbornly as they refused to let the cold dampen their spirit. She could appreciate that, of course… a gentle smile on her features that remained somewhat strained due to the way her stomach rumbled uncomfortably, reminding her of the deep pangs of hunger that had come with being on her own for some time. Even the wolves she had come across had not seemed overly interested in working together to solve their common problem, much to her dismay.

In that moment, she pleaded for anything… and as if she had asked for it, it fell upon her stoop. There were the faintest caws of a bird that had not quite made it south for the winter, grounded by a broken wing of unknown origin. The scent ripped through her nose hungrily, and she found herself dropping low to the ground. It was an incline, and the bird was not going anywhere and so she stepped forward, struggling as she slid down the slope to the water’s edge, rewarded with the bird that she quickly bit into to put out of its misery.

And with that, a hungry bite, savoring the lean and somewhat lacking meat that came from her shockingly easy meal. Nadine would not turn her nose at what could only be a gift from the gods.

(This post was last modified: Dec 28, 2023, 03:26 AM by Nadine.)

It was easy to range and roam.

She did her job in the falls and in exchange she seemed to be hardly bothered. She just needed to wait for the winter to slide away, or for opportunity to present itself. She imagined that at this rate it would be the former. The falls did not seem to harbor the same kind of wolves as the Backwater.

They were closer tied to the Cove and it made her gut churn.

Perhaps that was why she had scouted with such great distance, to a place that was the very embodiment of winter. It was ugly, in her eyes, for the way mountain and water met. It reminded her of death. Even more so when the stink of dead bird and another wafted on the breeze.

"How did you kill it?"

Assess first, she figured, and move forward from there.

(This post was last modified: Jan 15, 2024, 03:46 PM by Isla.)

give me your heart

and i'll give you my soul

to just feel a little piece of heaven

She briefly recalled a tale her mother used to tell her about birds, about the dark words they could carry through the horizon on their beaks. There were some in neighboring packs who believed that the birds carried tales of misfortune and saw them as much of an omen. She had never been able to bring herself to prescribe to such beliefs. They had felt ridiculous to her, in all honesty. She had always been something of a realist, even if she was easy to get along with and shared an aspect of optimism. She supposed it had come with her ‘natural’ gift for politics, as her mother had put it.

A voice caught her attention, her gaze turning to spot a young wolf who had to be near her age, though her fur was much darker than Nadine’s, and her blue gray eyes focused on the bird. Nadine finished swallowing before she responded. “It was good as dead anyway… broken wing. A bird that cannot fly is a bird that will not survive.” She answered simply, her gaze focused on the woman who held a distinct scent, telling her that she was not alone, and that a pack must live nearby that she was associated with.

“It was good as dead anyway."

She was pleased and surprised in equal turns. It was the way of a wolf, to survive and demolish things weaker than them. Yet she had met so many who would rather fawn over weaklings and pretend the world was not so hard.

"They say the same of wolves."

She peered harshly at the woman her own age. Was there potential here? For something closer to an equal than someone to challenge? Surely her thoughts had ran away from her now with such thinking. Yet she held the idea closer to her for a moment. Something to savor while she decided how the tides might turn.

"So why do you hunt alone in such a harsh place? Weak prey or not."

(This post was last modified: Jan 15, 2024, 09:59 PM by Isla.)

give me your heart

and i'll give you my soul

to just feel a little piece of heaven

Silence lingered heavily over her as she listened to the insightful words of the other, finding herself surprised that someone her own age could reach such a conclusion… she supposed that was hypocritical. She knew it to be the truth as well. They were both young but they were far from stupid. It was clear with just the simple words from the woman across form her, and even more so as she spoke of such harsh places. It resulted in a thoughtful gaze, a gentle shrug of her shoulders.

“The people I am searching for are more likely to linger around these climates… they are familiar, easier for them to navigate.” She stated as she glanced back at the water. “A fresh water source, all you have to do is crack the ice along the bank… and prey still roams here. I’m willing to wager that it’s more bountiful in the summer, even a pleasant place to live if you can survive the harshness of the winter.”

She searched, but she did so alone.

Isla continued to find herself interested. In that alone was a special kind of surprise. She wondered if she hadn't wandered the right way, if wolves more her speed resided beyond the Falls but still in the north.

Who was this woman?

"That's a large if."

She thought of the Cove, of the tragedy that touched and spread and seeped like cursed grounds. She hoped Sephrina's ghost stayed there to haunt them all. In the winter, in the summer, year round.

"But these people you look for, what else are they like besides their awful home tastes?"

She did not know if a question like that would make her hate them or like them more. She also dared to tease in her tone and pressed her boundaries now that a sense of comfort had felt established.

(This post was last modified: Jan 15, 2024, 10:28 PM by Isla.)

give me your heart

and i'll give you my soul

to just feel a little piece of heaven

She had lived the last few months in disarray but not despair. She had been raised to be stronger than that… to endure regardless of the circumstances, despite the thinning of her features due to the hunger that often came with being alone in winter and the need to find her sister, her mother, Cyran… how could she not continue to search for them. She had wondered briefly if Cyran were still at his home… but he had always spoken of leaving, and finding his own path… she liked to think he was somewhere out here, looking.

“They’re strong… resilient… nothing deters them from their goals but they will not rush so brazenly into conflict. They’re smart, able to strategize and find the best solution forward with as little consequences as possible.” She explained, a gentle reflection of admiration in her eyes despite the calm and rather passive nature of her voice.

She was reminded of the Backwater and Valles, in some way. It was a name she still carried even if it meant nothing up here in the wasteland of the north. No one would bat eyelashes or fawn if she uttered her last name.

Although Isla had always been a bit more...explosive. Her father might have fit the bill of what this woman described. Maybe Rochus.

"So I will just assume you are the same way then." Her lips lifted into a crooked, toothy grin. Hardly friendly more than it continued in her vein of teasing. Had the woman given away her own thinking so easily? Or maybe she was unlike them and looked for them for more...sadistic reasons.

"I don't know if you'll find them around here though. Rather empty save for one little place..."

give me your heart

and i'll give you my soul

to just feel a little piece of heaven

Talking was… easy, familiar… she knew the ins and outs of conversation, the lilts that those in her area carried… and yet it did not seem as though other regions used the same tone or even directness as those that she was familiar with… it was a shame, because it likely would have enabled her greater feats of movement… perhaps even a place to stay if only temporarily.

As she continued to drawl on, and she raised her brow at her statement, the way that it dragged. “Your pack?” She asked, once more drawing in an inhale and getting a good grip on the scent, a paw still resting on the dead bird that she had been eating. “It’s possible.” She stated simply, not answering her first question with any real answer.

After all, the answer was often a matter of perspective… and it was subjective. To some, her family were monsters, to others friends and saviors… what good would a label do? “What is your name, by the way?”

"My pack is a stretch. It's an exchange at most."

That was what she had told both the leading male and herself. She had guarded their borders until she had felt certain enough to roam out beyond and now she scouted for them.

In return she had shelter from the winter and meals to fill out her form.

"Isla." Simple and clean. It would change nothing if this woman knew her name or not. "Now I believe you share yours? Or that's what I was taught. Rules can be wiggled, though."

Could they find more common ground? Her heart lurched at the thought.