Dead Empress Backwater all different colors

RE - The stars are unusually bright tonight. Maybe because it's also unusually cold... brr.
@Oleander ^^

It was one of those cold nights that made Isidore glad he'd joined a pack, because he'd never spent a winter away from his family before, and he can only imagine how difficult it would be to stay warm by himself. Still, the pack den had felt a little stifling in spite of the warmth it offered, and so, the silver wolf had extricated himself from one of his packmates' side and headed out into the night.

The windchill was immediate, biting through his fur as though it was a thin sheet, but the mild discomfort was just that - a discomfort. Nothing he couldn't handle, and it certainly beat laying awake through the night in the pack den when he was feeling so claustrophobic.

In spite of the cold, there was no snow - not even any clouds. No, in fact, when Isidore turned his head up to look at the sky, all he could see was a wide, endless blanket of stars up above, decorating the sky more enthusiastically than usual. The air Issa exhaled evaporated in the low light like smoke from a dragon's maw, and the wind blew again, pushing his fur against the grain and nipping at his skin. If he didn't have the option of a warm den to return to, he'd certainly be worried about freezing to death.

But no, he was here, not too far from warmth, healthy and well-fed, fully prepared for the winter to come. Joining had been a good decision, he thought to himself, eyes picking out the faint adjoining lines of the constellations above. He rather liked it in the Backwater.

Inside his little tree hollow, Oleander shivered. His sleeping spot was warm enough for one wolf, but something about tonight chilled him to the bone. The tips of his ears felt frozen and the fullness of his winter coat did not feel like enough. There was only one way to rectify this and that was to start moving. Get the blood pumping and take advantage of the break in the recent snow storms.

Head low and tail level with his spine, he moved like a lumbering beast twice his size. Awake, but silently pleading for the comfort of sleep. He gave his coat a good shake before he, too, went out into the dark. But, instead of heading towards Heartleaf Creek, he chose a different path tonight. Just for kicks.

Half-lidded eyes accompanied tall, skyward ears. So far nothing was out of place as far as he could tell. Well... apart from the recent trail of prints leading from the pack den. Hm. His nose flared and his whiskers twitched. Another scent he was not familiar with. Eros and Viorel had been busy while he had been away.

A few steps more and a side-step around a gnarled tree provided him with a curious sight. The perfect side-view of a silvery figure stood between the trees, head pointed to the sky. Oleander followed the wolf's gaze, his own pale eyes drinking in the lights of a thousand stars.

         

OLEANDER |

Nobody gets me like you do I'm not the same, not after you

A unique scent hit his nose - not too unlike the majority of the Backwater wolves' aroma, but not one Isidore had come across before, either. His nose twitched, but for a moment, he didn't feel it necessary to tear his attention from the stars. Perhaps he had company to watch them with, now.

That was good, he thought idly. This was a sight best shared, in his opinion.

"It's a good night for stargazing," he commented finally, eyes finally trailing from the sky toward the stranger. He was much larger than Isidore, but that wasn't a specifically hard thing to accomplish, and he looked as though he was made for winter. Thick white fur like the snow that coated the ground, bright eyes the opposite of Isidore's own.

Why hadn't he seen this man in the main den? Eros said sometimes others chose not to sleep in there, but wasn't it cold without shared body heat? He didn't want to pry - not yet, anyway, and instead lapsed into silence. It was far too peaceful a night to try and fill it with too many words.

"It's a good night for stargazing," the rogue stated.

Oleander did not yet meet his eyes. He had stargazed countless times before and, yet, they still surprised him. Tonight, they seemed brighter than ever, like they had wanted to be noticed. For whatever reason, the Valle could not say. He was more accustomed to that which preferred to remain unseen in the dark.

"I'll say," he remarked, leveling his head at last. Shooting stars were something he had only ever heard of. Even during his time away, in the darkest forests and on the highest peaks, he had not seen one.

"Oleander. Valle." His tone was straightforward but warm. Distant, yet inviting. They were but two strangers on the cusp of becoming acquaintances. "I s'pose you're new 'round here?"

         

OLEANDER |

Nobody gets me like you do I'm not the same, not after you

Oleander. Valle.

Related to Eros, then, Issa assumed, and Viorel. But this was largely a family pack, he was learning, so the surname shouldn't have come as too much of a surprise, even if the other man looked relatively unlike the other two. Oleander continued speaking, a fun dialect that Isidore had little experience with.

"I suppose so," he said with a smile, offering his newest acquaintance a wag of his tail. "I'm Isidore." No surname to accompany the word, which trailed off into silence, and sounded a little lonely in his ears. Risaela had never wanted surnames for her children, nor for herself, to not pin them down to a place or a person, but Isidore wondered vaguely if it might be nice to have that sort of tie to bind him so.

He angled his ears toward the larger wolf, and then back to the sky. "And you aren't new around here," he guessed. New to Isidore, maybe, but certainly not to the Backwater.

(This post was last modified: Dec 05, 2024, 01:25 AM by Isidore.)

Isidore.

Oleander studied the man's face as he spoke. He had expected a surname, but that was partially due the company he kept during his travels far from home. Pack guardians, named heirs, scouts who might've lied to protect their true identity... A second name was a reflection of tradition, a way to backtrack familial ties and where one hailed from.

"Well met, Isidore," his tone warming as his tail a slow, measured wag. "Yeah, not new. Born and raised. Eros' my brother." He returned the smile. "The Backwater takes a bit of time to learn. The ice and snow doesn't make it any easier either, but it seems you've found your footing here."

As he spoke, Oleander's gaze drifted upward, captivated by the night sky. The stars shimmered like a million tiny eyes, watching over them. Clear and distinguished, unnamed constellations jumping out here and there. He returned his gaze to Isidore, "You here to stay or jus' staying for the season?"

         

OLEANDER |

Nobody gets me like you do I'm not the same, not after you

Eros' brother. They didn't look much alike, but Isidore's siblings were all different shapes and sizes and colors, as well. Perhaps, like his family, they had a multitude of different fathers, but the same mother, or vice versa. He wondered just how big the Valle family was - if there were tons of them, and he had plenty of new faces to greet over time. Did they come and go as they wished, or was Oleander's brief stint a one-off type of thing? There were many questions he wanted answers to, but Isidore supposed he had all the time in the world to figure these things out.

"You, too," he said, eyes crinkled in little half-moons. "I haven't run into any trouble navigating the Backwater yet, but there's a lot I don't know. I'd say it's more that I haven't slipped yet rather than me finding my footing." He laughed a little, then, breath puffing from his maw like smoke. "That would be giving me too much credit."

Huh. He hadn't really thought about how long his stay here would be. Mulling it over for a moment, Issa hummed to himself. "I like it here," he reasoned aloud. "I haven't decided long-term, but I don't plan on leaving as soon as the weather clears up, either. I'd like to see those heart-shaped leaves grow through the spring, and see what the Backwater looks like thawed and teeming with life." Which were, of course, only things that he would experience if he stuck around through the warmer months.

"Are you a scout?" he asked, tone light, wondering why else Oleander might wander off this close to winter. It was a touch dangerous, cutting it this close, wasn't it?