Stonewatch Timbers Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained

The darkness seemed to creep in this time of year in that claustrophobic sort of way. The days growing ever shorter, the air growing ever colder. Her breath hung like a pale visage before her. Was it just her mind or could she actually see a face she recognized? Before she could think about it any further though, it was swept away by a very faint breeze. Broken by it's own fragile nature. But who dwells on moments such as those. It was but one in her travels to this place. Soon it faded from her mind all together.

Padding through the towering trees, Ruse continued forward. With only a scent to guide her, what exactly would be waiting for her here? The exhausting journey to reach this far northern realm would be all that was left, all she could hope for. Up until this point, everyone had shunned her, chased her away, fought her and countless other actions that pushed her ever northward. But what for?

Slower and slower she went until finally, she reached a clearing. Shaking her raven pelt free of the travel's debris, Ruse found herself stopped all together. Sinking to her haunches, she turned her striking blue orbs towards the sky. The clouds drifted lazily above with what Ruse took as purpose. Purpose. Her head swung down. She watched her paw as she scraped at the dirt and dust. What was her purpose now? Why exactly DID she come all the way out here? She growled. It rumbled deep her her throat as she tossed around the idea of it all being pointless, of her being pointless. The anger was bubbling, brewing in her veins. It only took the hoot of a nearby owl to make her snap.

"Well I'd love to see you do any better!" She snapped towards the unseen owl, er, well, the direction she heard it come from anyways. The sudden burst of sound rattled the peace around her. Birds flitted away and something scurried quickly up a tree behind her. "I had no choice!" She burst as she closed her eyes tight and shook her head in an attempt to shake away the thoughts that plagued her.

It took a bit, a few more choice words for the owl of course, but Ruse finally composed herself. It had been a long day and she just wanted it to be over. scanning the clearing, she found a tall-ish bush with a clear spot beneath it. It'd be the perfect place to hunker down for the cold night. As she waited for sleep to wash over, she watched her breath, looking for anymore signs they might hold.

A seed had planted itself at the back of his mind and, unlike its real-life counterparts, only grew more virulent with every snowfall, every drop in temperature, every sign that the world was transitioning into winter. The world, as viewed from Whitestone, turned from a sea of yellows, reds and greens into an unending plane of white, marred only by the nearby mountain to the south and, in the distant north, the peaks of a whole range. It was no journey to make in the winter, when the pack needed him and those he would want to take, but the prospect of revenge sat on his tongue like a drop of sugar which he wasn't allowed to taste. It was a tease, a torment that he had endured for more than a year, now, and his self-control had grown biblical.

He could wait. Spring promised many sweet fruits.

The highlands to the west of the monadnock had not drawn him in often, the spider preferring to wander the tundra or through the eastern forests around Kingsfall. As far as he could tell, this area of the Lore was quiet, and with more neighbours to his south, he had no reason to waste time prowling through dead land unless it was to hunt. But his efforts to see what might be caught out here had proved in vain, and he had nothing to show for the time spent here. Accepting that it was time to go back, the spider had turned back towards the northeast and set his feet back on the trail.

Barely thirty heartbeats later, a sound drifted to his ears, a sound quickly recognised as a string of words - of rather colourful expletives, to be even more precise. Idly amused by the idea of someone out here shouting angrily all by themselves, he stopped just to listen, ears and head swivelling around to better catch the tirade. Whoever it was, their ire did not last too long, and then that familiar quiet fell back over the place, a quiet almost amplified by the cold, by the way the loudest thing was his breath as it billowed out in brief grey puffs in front of his face.

He could have chosen to ignore it, to relegate it as a brief flicker of entertainment and nothing more, but his journey had been so fruitless that he could not resist the temptation of investigation. Carefully, cautiously, Craw angled himself towards where he had heard the stranger and picked his way through the snow and trees, and came upon a little clearing. There were pawprints in the snow, but they crisscrossed and could have been from anyone and left at any time. He could smell loners, even fresh scents, but could not be sure any of them were who he had been trying to find.

Maybe it was just another dead end, another waste of time. He snorted, glancing about the clearing, completely oblivious to the young black wolf huddled in a dark space under a nearby bush.

There is a deer that was killed by a lynx nearby. +10 Health

The ground was blanketed, white and still. All was calm in that unnatural way that tends to follow snow fall. If one listened carefully enough, you could hear the flakes as they landed gently. The only disturbance was the breath that furled from the ebony fae's nostrils. It seemed to roll across the bare ground in swirls before dissipating at the snow line. Ruse was on the verge of sleep. It seemed to come quick, quicker than normal. Slowly, her thoughts were replaced with images. They didn't make since but when did dreams ever really make sense?

But sleep didn't come quick enough. It was chased away by the soft sound of what she could only compare to as paw steps. She lay quite, all grogginess fleeing the clearing. Should she follow it? Her heart thumped loudly in her ears as she waged war with thoughts of fight or flight. 'Just stay very still.' Ruse thought to herself. Perhaps it wasn't a wolf, maybe it was a coyote or maybe a deer. All of which she wouldn't have to confront. It was then that a scent was carried on the faint breeze. Lynx? Deer? Blood? But it wasn't coming from the right direction. She kept still. The foot falls were getting louder. Ever louder. The snow seemed to play tricks with her. How much louder could such a sound get? The torment was too much but still, she kept still and silent.

Then he appeared. Just a few lengths to her left. His silver fur was striking but what really caught her attention were the bright amber eyes set into what looked like black holes. He could very well have been the messenger of death. The scar across his neck did nothing to ease such thoughts. But this fae was tormented by things that weren't there. Plagued by sounds that no one else could hear. Being alone had really done a number on her, but hopefully not irreparable. 

Slowly and with little grace, Ruse pulled herself from her place. She longed for the warm hovel. She seemed to already be attached to it. There wasn't exactly much for her to attach to these days so you get what you can to feel any sort of familiarity. But that was all besides the point. Now, it was like looking down the barrel of a gun. This brute who stood proud and tall with what looked like no effort at all, dwarfed her in both stature and confidence. From his scent, it was clear he had a pack. This thought stabbed her right through the gut. She was instantly brought back to her home that was so very far away now. 

It was everything she could do to stay in the moment but her mind and her heart were nowhere near the clearing. To him, she'd just be standing there, tail limp, her posture unrefined and her expression blank as her icy blue eyes fell to his paws.

Given a more important cause, perhaps, he would have put a little more effort into searching, but he was not the kind of wolf to expend unnecessary energy on a whim. Rapidly, his patience and curiosity was fading, replaced by thoughts of the more important matters which waited for him back home. He had already picked up his forepaw to step forward when movement caught his ears - and snapping his head towards the source, the hint of a snarl curling his lips from surprise, saw the girl emerge.

The snarl disappeared, replaced by narrowed eyes and a forward-flicked ear, the fur on his shoulders bristling instinctively at being in the presence of another lesser wolf. But whatever he had expected when pursuing the expletive-spewing stranger, it was not this. Stark black against the snow, blue eyes downcast, she was an image of mildness, of lifelessness. The dissonence was enough to draw another disbelieving snort.

"That was you?" he rasped, but despite being a question was said in such a way that suggested he wasn't really talking to her, but more as if to himself. That was probably down to the lethargic way she stood, as though he didn't really expect her to hear or acknowledge him at all, to be capable of answering anything. Certainly it couldn't be the same creature he had followed here?

Disappointed, he grunted his derision and turned away, lacking the patience to deal with this when he had more important things to do.

(This post was last modified: Dec 15, 2016, 10:27 AM by Craw.)