Drooping Willows where the numb meets the lonely

Backdated to 1/01. All welcome.
RE: The stars are unusually bright tonight. Maybe because it's also unusually cold.. brr.

Sakari had strayed from the river just a bit—far enough that she felt adventurous but not so far that she could not still smell her liquid lifeline.  It was pointless to stick to the river anyway... it had been so cold last night that the river had frozen solid, so thick even in the very center that it was impossible to bore through. So the fish were safe, for one more night at least, and Sakari traveled onward with a rumbling stomach.

She had come to the place where the thick vegetation of the wildwood gave way to the ethereal, swaying branches of the willow forest. The dark maiden lifted her nose to scan her surroundings, but she was immediately distracted by a break in the overgrowth above.  Countless stars beamed down from the heavens, scattering their reflected light upon the girl’s face and back.

The view reminded her of the land of her birth, where there were no trees to obscure the nighttime sky. This breathtaking sight had been a nightly occurrence, and so of course Sakari’s family had construed the perfect way to mar the beauty by imposing their morose beliefs. To the Noatak wolves, the stars were the spirits of the dead, watching and judging the actions of the living.  One wrong move was like to enrage one of these ever-vigilant spirits, promising bad luck for the hapless, misstepping wolf.

i played the wolf

renier lyall

and left it to the sheep to figure out

There were a lot of reasons he didn't sleep soundly, being cold was high on the list. No matter how he tucked himself he couldn't quite keep it at bay. Why the den would have solved his problem instead he rose to a stand, stretched out his limbs, and decided to take a walk. Get his blood flowing.

He padded round the trunks of willows, out of habit checking here and there in case others were about. He had a lot on his mind, but it seemed he was the only restless soul. So he continued to the Ridge's borders, and then further. By that time, the air stung both his nose and throat. He brushed it against his foreleg, hoping this wasn't going to continue. He was pretty sure hell hadn't froze over. Then again he was finally Leader of the Ridge and hadn't even raised a paw... He couldn't quite decide what to think other then to do his best for the Ride.

A huff he shifted course, pushing himself into a quicker gait. But, for the first time a break in the willows revealed the night sky. The rogue halted, golden eyes drawn to the bright stars which stole his breath in that moment.

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(This post was last modified: Jan 03, 2017, 04:17 AM by Renier.)

Sakari rolled her eyes as she recalled her family’s solemn warnings, delivered with hushed voices and eyes wide with fear. The girl usually tried to avoid thinking about the Noataks, since it always put her in a little bit of a huff. Paralyzed was what they were... so paralyzed with terror at making the wrong move that they prevented themselves from attempting anything that might improve their own situation.

Sakari sighed and peeled her gaze away from the murmuration of stars. The Noataks had ruined yet another beautiful skyscape for her, and they weren’t even here! Sakari didn’t know if she was more annoyed with them or with herself. As she breathed in once more, frigid air slicing down her throat, the girl captured the scent of a lone male. Her eyes settled on his silhouette at the edge of the clearing, and she started toward him without a second thought. He smelled of others; perhaps even a small pack. It was her lucky night.

“Mother’s tears..” she said, voice ringing out in the cold nighttime air. “..That’s what they are. Each tear frozen and immortalized forever.” Her smile was a bright flash against an otherwise inky backdrop.  “They say every time a child disappoints his mother, a new star is born.” Is that what they said, or had she just made that up? Perhaps someone, somewhere had said something like it at some point. Sakari had spun so many tales she often struggled to separate fact from fiction.

i played the wolf

renier lyall

and left it to the sheep to figure out

The shift of snow brought his muzzle level, golden eyes seeing the shift of a dark silhouette. The Lyall wasn't alarmed, just watchful, and slightly curious he was not alone on this night. Why, not everyone was friend, it didn't mean they were foe. It wasn't like he couldn't handle himself. Things had been kinda quiet lately..

The young lady's voice reached him before she did. With a neutral facade, he stood his ground, merely listening. He wasn't sure if he should laugh at the notion or show some respect until he saw the outline of a smile. She seemed to be mocking a belief. Brows faintly furrowed in thought, before the lines eased from his face.

"Then there should be plenty by my doing, if that were true." Jaysyek had never said such things, but he didn't doubt he had disappointed her quite a few times. Faintly, his nostrils twitch trying to gain some more information. Like others there wasn't a lot that her coat could tell him. Just where she had recently traveled. Though, it felt she must be young, he wasn't positive. "You don't really believe in such things, do you?" He pried, with an intent to know.

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(This post was last modified: Jan 03, 2017, 05:21 PM by Renier.)

The man had the look of a southern wolf, Sakari noted, eyes grazing over his patterned coat. Southern, at least, by her standards. He did not look particularly stupid or vulnerable either. There were no indications that he was either timid or over-confident, and he was certainly not young enough to be naïve. His demeanor gave little away… no weaknesses the girl could manipulate. He was studying her as closely as she was studying him, and the words he chose indicated a similar tactic; find out as much as possible by giving away as little as possible.  

Brows rose at the man’s comment about his mother, though the dark maiden was not particularly surprised by the response. She had yet to meet a wolf who hadn’t disappointed his family somehow. Then again, her most common acquaintance was a rogue or an outcast, not a well-fed, tidy-looking pack wolf like this man.

”Nah,” she answered, this time her lighthearted attitude evidence in her voice. ”If that were true… she continued, echoing the man’s turn of phrase, ”...then there would have to be twice as many stars. And that’s just from my mother alone.” The girl’s tail waved lazily.

“A lone wanderer hears much and believes little.”  There, she threw him a bone. Now he knew who she was. “Stories like that are just an entertaining form of control.”  How often had adults spun tall tales for their pups, hoping to scare them away from some unspeakable danger? How often had the dominant imposed religion upon the meek, hoping to cement unquestioning loyalty ever after? “You’re from that pack on the ridge, yeah? What kinds of stories do they tell you? She cocked her head curiously, wondering how the man would respond to such a obviously loaded question. “Or are you the storyteller?”  

i played the wolf

renier lyall

and left it to the sheep to figure out

Eyes hung onto the shadowed movement, picking out the medium figure. She was young, but in rather good shape least from the light the stars offered. He was sure she had faint, yellow eyes. They seemed to be studying him in turn. What she saw he could only wonder. There were plenty faults to be found within the russet and tawny wolf. But, he had learned to hide most well,(most of the time), while the rest may only be counted as faults to him.

A smirk played at the edge of his muzzle. Though she seemed quite young for it to be truth, maybe it was. He'd dare guess she'd left home because of her mother, but he made no comment about it.

Ears were open, since she seemed to have no qualms in answering his question. He found it of interest how she described those kind of stories. A way to control. He could agree with her there, if any story she'd heard was like the one she'd offered. But, his mother and father had never told such tales. They simply stuck with, bears like to eat pups and don't trust a stranger but don't sneer at them either.

She did not seem done speaking. She'd picked up where he was from, and had questions of her own. She was a clever thing. Out here she'd need to be, especially if she planned on being on her own. The idea a him a story teller was absurd, and would have been highly amusing. He was  barely a good speaker at the best of times. Let alone one to weave a story. "No, I'm not. I don't think I'd make a very good one, even if I got stories to tell. The Ridge I'm sure only has stories of the past, not the ones you speak of. I'm doubtful they get told very much. Youth are easily taught by life what happens if you wander too far, or take on pair of owl parents for their owlet. I guess those things shared could help be preventive, but I think most of us all learn the hard way, by trial and error." A shrug was given, and he let himself once more gaze toward the sky. Trying not to dwell on his own trial and errors.

"Where is it you come from? Where they try to keep you with such strange stories?"

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(This post was last modified: Jan 09, 2017, 03:07 PM by Renier.)

The pack wolf’s eyes drifted over her, and perhaps another young girl might have balked at such an appraisal. Not Sakari; the inky maiden lifted her chin with pride, though her gaze and tail remained carefully lowered. She knew how to conduct herself in the presence of a pack wolf; she was submissive, but certainly not intimidated.  
 
The air between them thawed somewhat as they exchanged jokes, and Sakari thought she even detected a smirk in the dark. He denied any prowess is storytelling, and the girl believed him. He had a very direct, flat way of speaking that would not work well for setting the mood of any story. Even so, it had a way of capturing attention.

She hadn’t really meant “storyteller” in the literal sense of the word; what she really wanted to know was if this man set the rules and the traditions. Was he the one in charge of control, through storytelling or otherwise? Sakari thought he very well could be in charge, though if his pack was large perhaps not. Sometimes larger packs had several dominant-type wolves such as the man who stood before her.

How refreshing it was to hear that there were some families out there who told it like it was to their children. Who let them learn from their experience. Sakari’s birth pack had not had such luxuries, because every new experience was (thought to be) deadly. Describing owls or bears or territories beyond the densite would only fill the pups with curiosity, and everyone knew how dangerous curiosity could be. Far better to guilt the children into staying close to home, lest their mother’s frozen tears immortalize their disobedience forever in the nighttime sky.

“Hell," Sakari answered, for she could think of no better word to describe her homeland. “A dark, barren and frozen place, s’ cold like this year-round, sometimes in the day even. Spirits of the dead haunt the living—if you could call us that— spirits who’re spiteful and tormenting and easily angered. A wandering pup is a dead pup, in that place.” She ended on a note of finality, implying that she did not wish to be pressed further.

She shivered as a chill crept up from her paws; she could not say if it was from remembering her birthplace or from standing still too long. “I like stories from the past," the girl hinted, changing the subject back to their previous topic of conversation.   “Maybe you could take a shot at telling one?” she suggested, subtly shifting her weight back and forth. The man was bulkier than her and perhaps wasn’t feeling the chill just yet, but Sakari needed to get moving. “Maybe as we walk?” Perhaps she was pressing too much, but the cold was making her impatient.. even more so than usual.  

(This post was last modified: Jan 13, 2017, 06:26 PM by Sakari.)

Sorry I haven't replied to this sooner, Renier and I fumbled for a story to deliver.

i played the wolf

renier lyall

and left it to the sheep to figure out

The Lyall felt a little wary of this one. She had a fire in her, and the ghosts of the past would encourage him to avoid further contact with her like the plague. It always seemed be the ones cloaked in dark. But, he couldn't help admire her confidence. The careful manner she played the game. How much wiser she was than those six times her age.

But, no wonder.

Faint mask lit with surprise. He hadn't expected what his question had brought out. Hell. There was nothing casual about the word dropped from her mouth. By further description he understand why she would use the term. Frozen hell. What a mess. It made him suddenly grateful for his own circumstances. He'd never been in an atmosphere like that. How had she managed to escape it? He felt he had asked enough. "I hope this place treats you better," he offered, briefly letting his eyes fall to her dark facade.

Why he didn't blame her from wanting to stay away from the topic of homeland, she seemed no different from any other young one. She wanted a story. He let out a half-laugh. "I will try." Who was he to say no? Though, he was already not sure what it would even be about. He nodded in agreement, keeping pace with her, following one of the trails that continued from the Ridge. "All right a story.." He wished he had his father's or uncle's talent for this.

"There was young wolf given the responsibility of leadership. Her mother had been in an accident, and needed her daughter to take the role. Without hesitation the young lady took it upon herself. Scouting, hunting, guarding, and even recruiting quite a few new members. The pack flourished under her rule, and no one seemed against her. But, there was one who didn't feel she earned her place. One who wanted to see her fail, see her fall."

He let the young wolf set the pace, gold eyes now and again flicking toward her to see her expression.

"This wolf was the other leader of the pack. Rising because her father was losing his sight. He thought she was reckless, and unworthy of the title. One day he threatened to cast her out, and dispose of any children she should have. But, what he didn't know was she had more loyal followers. A civil war seemed inevitable. But, the young, leading lady was wiser. Much as the she wanted to fight and throw him out, doing so could endanger the children she carried. She did not want to see her friends, her family hurt because of another man's foolishness. So the young wolf took another course of action. She gathered those close to her, and left to forge her own kingdom. Leaving the man with exactly what he wanted, only there was very little left without her." His words faded, and he let out a rather silent sigh. The story was mostly true, with some details changed, added, or taken away. He wondered what the young lady would think of it

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(This post was last modified: Feb 15, 2017, 05:13 PM by Renier.)