Mountain of Dire precarious

<blockquote><ul><span style='font-size:7pt;line-height:100%'>depressing Kiche whaaat.</span></li></ul>
He heart began to beat fearfully against his ribs as the world shrank beneath him. The summit loomed close, a terrifying pinnacle, the most bizarre, feral pipe-dream. Unable to contend with the overwhelming mess his life had become, he had slipped out of the Hollow, hunting for an answer. He had smelled it in his dream. It tickled his nose and tugged at his soul with it's enigmatic scents of things he couldn't name. As if awoken by a thunderclap, his eyes had suddenly burst open. Within a moment's notice, he was on his feet and borne away by the wisps of his desperation that hung on the fading breeze. Like a heathen stalking prey, he had carefully tracked his dream through bracken and across streams, losing it often enough to make him consider giving up. But he was <i>hungry</i>, oh so very hungry, and the answer was out there — somewhere.

As the dawn began to spill over the lip of the jagged peaks, Kiche found himself fumbling over the rocky, callous face of the mountains. It he could feel it now, he was close. The scent was heavy and unmistakable, pungent and uplifting. His spirits rose with him as he scaled the mountains, somehow knowing that what he sought was at the peak without being able to say why. Every once and awhile, he took a break and sprawled out over a flat, grey outcrop and gazed down at the shrunken, strange landscape below him. Something began to stir in him as his eyes roamed over forests and lakes and plains, covering miles in moments. It was a powerful feeling, an omnipotent feeling. Suddenly a gaping hole was opened in him, and he longed for a friend he had not seen or spoken to in ages. No matter how he denied it, he missed Him. But he doubted, he doubted more than he ever wished to admit. To the wind, he asked, "<b>God, do you feel this way... when you look down?</b>" Turning his gaze upwards, he searched the skies, the clouds for an answer. Finding none, he asked himself a question, a question he could never make himself ask out loud, <i>God, God do you exist?</i>

And now he was almost there, not far from the summit of all his dreaming and hoping, and he was overcome with emotion. For some reason, he found that he could not continue. The forsaken agnostic sunk to his haunches and stared up at the summit. The dream-scent was still on the gale winds that buffeted him unmercifully. Now was the time to decide: <i>Do I want to know? Do I want an answer?</i>

Of all the questions he could not answer for himself, this one hurt the most.

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<blockquote>Winter seemed to drag by at an intolerable pace. He missed the lazy summer days - the smell of the grasses and flowers, the way the rains felt as they slipped through his thick coat on a warm day. Truth be told, the charcoal male had grown quite weary. Things at home in Grizzly Hollow progressed at such a pace, and it was <i>lonely</i>.

Jaysyek, the best company he'd managed to keep, was always a shining light. But it would appear as though she were still the only to hold any interest in him. Elettra - so proud in her ways - in all her mystery was distant, her scent more familiar to him than her face. Raigo, who he'd kindled a new brotherhood with, was nearly as recluse, it seemed. And <i>Borden</i>...well, Kade had yet to come across him, but thankfully was more educated on his story, that of a father who'd seen his share of tragedy and disarray.

Consequently, the dark man had kept to himself, something he was <i>painfully</i> used to. Many mornings he was tempted to depart from the Hollow and revisit his old home at the lake, secluded and nestled between the mountains and the meadows. Still, he was reluctant to stray far from the leadess who had captured the shards of his heart and undivided attention. There wasn't a trouble she couldn't manage to get herself into, though he admired her strength and persistance, and the way she met each day with an optimism that contrasted with her torment. This morning, however, he'd picked up on a new scent and was taken by curiosity.

And so he followed the fresh trail in tow, leading much further than he'd anticipated - straight up the mountain. Silver eyes smoldering with interest, the thick beast knew he couldn't be far from the wolf whose scent had drawn him from his isolation...</blockquote>

(This post was last modified: Feb 12, 2012, 02:39 AM by Aeylen.)

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He sat straddling the boundary of two lives, on the brink of a cliff, gazing over the edge and wondering how much farther he could possibly fall. His massive rusty, brown head turned back to the mountain peak, that one last, sharp finger that reached up to stroke the sky. To look at the summit filled him with a deep, confusing fear. Kiche felt as if… if he were to climb up there, all the way to the top, he could merely reach upwards and continue climbing into the sky, back into God’s arms. He could climb forever. Part of him was sure that the peak was the edge of the world, the stepping stone that bridged the river between this life and the next. If he only just climbed a little higher, he would have his answer. He knew that… someone –maybe God—was waiting just beyond that rise to carry him across the abyss.

It was just a leap of faith.

But his world-weary amber eyes were tugged backwards once more, begging for another glimpse at the vast, miniature world miles below him. Although his dream had brought him all this way, he found himself being pulled back. Was it his own sinful, heathen self that called him? Was it that secret part of him that he had neglected, beat down, and shut away? <i>What are you looking for, fool? He’s not here. And that’s no bridge. This is it, Kiche. This is all there is.</i> Angry and conflicted, he tossed his head in frustration, attempting to shake himself of this leach, this parasite that had attached itself to him and was sucking away at his faith and his will to live.

Dejectedly, he collapsed on the rock, his legs dangling over the edge of the precipice as he stared despondently at the tiny trees and rivers. Slowly, as if with an effort that mirrored the energy it took him, his eyes gradually traced the path he had taken. As he his eyes climbed higher and higher, they snagged on moving shape that appeared to be only a hundred yards below him. For some reason, he was only able to rouse a mild interest, and he followed the shape over the rocks, losing it occasionally in the shadows. It <i>was</i> a shadow. A wolf. A shade, a ghost of the creatures he longed to leave behind and could not belong with. Lazily, he swung his head to his left as he watched the heathen crest the rise. Now there was only feet between them. For once, Kiche was not afraid. Lazily, he scented the air, surprised to find that he could pick out the familiar scent of home on this heathen. “<b>Morning</b>” he drawled, letting his head fall back to the stony ground. “<b>I’m Kiche.</b>”
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<blockquote>Nearing what he assumed to be the ridge's summit, the black and silver male padded hastily, planting his wide paws just so, in order to avoid a hazardous slip on the rocky terrain. The winds seemed to be picking up - perhaps a consequence of the elevation, now? He wasn't sure, but braced himself against them like a brick wall. Adopting a slower pace, the guardian halted just below where the nutmeg-colored male lay perched.

<b>"Lo-"</b> he called out, the deep tone of his voice like thunder as it echoed. In this moment he took a good look at his, well, <i>packmate</i>, who offered a greeting before laying his wide head to rest. Proceeding by a few careful steps, he lifted a paw mindlessly as he called up to his counterpart. <b>"Greetings, <i>Kiche</i>..."</b> It was a cordial notion, as cordial as he could be to a complete stranger as he gazed high. <b>"I am Kade,"</b> and he didn't bother to include his last name, guessing the other wouldn't really care by the look of things.

Immediately he began questioning just what in the hell the young man was doing, up here where the land was so forsaken, and so far from home. It was an obvious inference that the wolf was unhappy - maybe not sad, but discontent. Kade was no therapist - though at times he'd fulfill such a role for Jaysyek, his dear companion - but he'd take a stab at offering some innocent support.

<b>"Such a long way from the Hollow..."</b> small talk was not his forte, but he had nothing to lose now. <b>"...may I join you?"</b> Naturally holding himself with an air of confidence, and with a sway to the thick onyx ploom behind him, the brute posed the question straightforwardly.</blockquote>

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Kade. Okay. There was little he had to say to that, so he merely blinked in response as he stared down at the dark wolf. With only a mild interest, Kiche wondered what the creature was doing up here. Part of him was convinced that this <i>Kade</i> fellow had followed him here. But to what end? A more rational part of him decided that Kade would have little reason to climb a mountain in pursuit a soul he had never met. But Kiche was numb and introspective, and felt no inclination to ask such a pointless question. What did it matter why he had come if he was here now? Did the "why" ever matter? It appeared the Hollow wolf was at least intent on <i>something</i> since he asked to join him. The forlorn agnostic merely shrugged, "<b>Be my guest.</b>" His tone was cordial, although borne by a sigh. Resigned and exhausted, he saw no reason to argue if the kettledrum-voiced beast wanted to join him.

"<b>Do you believe in Heaven, Kade?</b>" the ginger identity-crisis asked ambiguously, lifting his head towards the summit, staring at that bridge to nowhere. He had never asked this of a heathen. He had never wanted to waste breath on some futile, cerebral conversation. Now that he thought of it, though... He had never even talked about it with Aisling... Something moved in him, a deeply disturbed question that he could not answer for himself, not right now. She had <i>never</i> once spoken of religion or heaven or... ever said the word <i>God.</i>... The only thing she ever claimed to have believed in was... was the good in others — those silver linings. But... she had never said... He shook his head. He couldn't think of that now. It made him dangerously nauseous to try and weave the facts together, although it stared him in the face.
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<blockquote>It was certainly not his intention to interrupt the red male as he lay, but the blank blinking of his eyes and the shrug of his shoulders seemed to suggest that he'd done just that. If anything, he sought only to acquaint himself with the stranger who he shared his home with, perhaps even pursue some sort of friendship. However, infering either some sort of passive aggression or outright disinterest, the black figure considered whether or not he'd wasted his time.

And then a rather strange question was asked of him - <i>do you believe in heaven, Kade?</i>

What he did believe in was strictly black and white. He had never been one for hopes and dreams, as it was apparent that they were ill-sewn or doomed from the beginning when it came to his own life. There was, quite frankly, little self-tolerance for such musings, though the thought of a heaven was a warm notion.

<b>"I think that everyone needs something to believe in,"</b> he replied honestly. The concept of any kind of afterlife was not beyond his mental capacity, but the things he cherished were right here - things that could be seen and touched.

Prompted not to take a step closer - an action borne of respect, as he would expect were he in the red man's {shoes} - he turned his attention to the sky, silently wondering what the other saw therein.</blockquote>

(This post was last modified: Feb 27, 2012, 03:27 AM by Kade.)

<blockquote><span style='font-size:7pt;line-height:100%'><ul>sorry for making you wait :C –scolds muse-</li></ul></span>

“<i>I think that everyone needs something to believe in.</i>”

Struck by the depth of Kade’s response, Kiche tor his eyes away from the summit. <i>What does that mean?</i> Staring down at the dark stranger with a renewed curiosity, Kiche weighed the statement carefully, turning it over in his mind and sniffing it with a cautious interest. The idea caused old memories to resurface, sounding so familiar, like a twin of words he had heard once before –“<i>I think everyone has some good in them.</i>” But did heathens believe? In <i>what</i> did they believe? They didn’t appear to believe in God –his, or any others. Did that leave anything to believe in? Was everyone good and faithful in their own way? Kiche didn’t know if he believed it –although he couldn’t even say <i>what</i> he believed in anymore. Was he in the same boat? “<b>Really?</b>” he proffered to sable fellow, still on the ledge below him, his tone slightly incredulous. It seemed odd to say that everyone needed to believe in something, since he couldn’t come up with any examples.

On some level, it occurred to him that Kade hadn’t really answered his question at all. “<b>Then what is it that you believe in?</b>” By the way he had replied, it was clear to the red saint that he had no faith in Heaven. Once more, Kiche stole another hungry glance up at the summit, wondering if he should believe that Heaven was on the other side. Did he <i>need</i> to believe it was there? He took a moment to consider the alternatives: hell, or eternal, thoughtless darkness. Deep inside, his soul trembled uncertainly, crying out for him to stop it –he didn’t want to wonder what it would be like to fade away into darkness. It appeared he really <i>did</i> need to believe in Heaven…

Pausing for a moment, Kiche considered the sky and looked back down at Kade. “<b>Does it make us weak to need?</b>” His hungry, confused gaze fell with its entire weight –the weight of a whole saint’s world—upon the shoulder of a stranger. He had to know. He had to know if his faith was a weakness, if it was his Achillie’s heel that kept him from true strength and belonging. Would he be a better man if he had no crutch? Would he be a better man if there was only earth and sky? If there was no heaven beyond the next rise?</blockquote>

(This post was last modified: Mar 03, 2012, 04:44 PM by Kiche.)

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No problem :)

<blockquote><i>Really? Then what is it you believe in? Does it make us weak to need?</i>

He would continue to offer only silence as the wolf furthered his mindful interrogation, forbidding the grin that would have stemmed from an equal sacasm. Gathering patience and good will, he posed the obvious reply.

<b>"Death is merely a part of life, and when it reaches its grimy fingers out to strangle the last breath of life from your lungs, I believe that you will be surrounded by emptiness."</b>

There was no Heaven, nor an afterlife waiting for those who are malignant and selfish, those who were straved by their need for power. Why would there be any reward waiting for those who comfortably <i>sinned</i> in their time on Earth? By believing in Heaven, it would mean that he would have to believe in forgiveness, even for the worst of transgressions. He'd never received such forgiveness, and knew that he would pay for his wrong doing in <i>this</i> life.

<b>"I believe that everyone will get <i>what they deserve</i>, and there are few who inhabit this world that deserve even the promise of eternal life after death."</b>

<b>"I think that our needs are of things such as hunger and warmth, a need for love, for some...I think that <i>needing</i> belief or the temporary comfort it will bring will drop even the strongest willed to his knees, in his moment of trial."</b> One thing he did absolutely believe in was the sting of disappointment.</blockquote>

<blockquote><ul><span style='font-size:7pt;line-height:100%'>I’d be better at replying if this conversation wasn’t getting too deep for me. It makes me to lazy, just don’t want to sit down and puzzle out his response. xD <s>Kiche, why are you so complicated.</s></span></li></ul>
Kade’s response was galling, terrifying… in a way, it <i>disgusted</i> Kiche –at least, his stomach took a sickening turn. Death… death was unnatural. It shook the saint to his very core. He could see it, see this fantasy that the dark fellow painted for him in dreadful vividness: the rotting, dirty fingers that reached out, stealing away his soul, ripping him away from this world. And then everything was dark. Dark forever. A shudder wracked the body of the Hollow Priest. <i>No</i>. This could not be the truth. He could feel it in his bones. This death was <i>wrong</i>, this death was <i>unnatural</i>, this death <i>scared</i> him. This couldn’t be right… God wouldn’t… He stopped, unwilling to follow that path just yet.

His ears of red clay swiveled forward as his cult-mate continued to explain his point of view. The emphatic “<i>what they deserve</i>” snagged and caught on his ears as the words fluttered through the air. <i>How</i>? How did everyone get what they deserved? Kiche could bring several heathens to mind who had yet to get what he thought they “deserved.” But… what did <i>he</i> deserve, he who did horrible things, he who had sinned, he who had loved, laughed, cried amongst the heathens? Who decided what he deserved?

In an instant, he knew had his answer.

Faith erupted from the ashes of his doubt. It was <i>Pangur</i>. God, who was terrible and beautiful, who sat astride the clouds, who watched but did not intercede. Pangur would be his judge. The awesome deity was the arbitrator for the fate of everyone both heathen pious. Looking down at Kade, the saint saw someone who had been defeated by cynicism, someone who had given up. He saw the life that stretched out for <i>himself</i>, a long road that would carry him into a deep depression and emotional seclusion. He saw the heathens crying out. They… they had never had a chance before to know of God. Suddenly, his heart began to ache for this poor creature who did not believe in Heaven, who believed in carnal needs and the temporary comfort of faith.

“<b>I guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree then, Sir.</b>” While he wished to reach out to Kade in this poignant moment, he knew he could not. Help, guidance, instruction –that would have to wait. But there was a whole wide world of heathens that spread out below him –God’s kingdom. God’s poor, lost creatures… they needed him. “<b>I think it takes a lot of strength to believe in others.</b>” It was probably more strength than he possessed, and his back would probably give out under the weight –but he would try. “<b>I think it takes a lot of strength to believe in Pangur, to believe that He longs to forgive and love. I struggled with those doubts for so long. But… You helped me realize something, Kade. You helped me see that these doubts are the <i>essence</i> of my faith rather than the enemies. Doubt and disbelief are not crimes. They are natural.</b>” A warm smile washed over his ginger face, and light twinkled in his kindly eyes.
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(This post was last modified: Mar 11, 2012, 02:52 PM by Kiche.)

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<blockquote>He watched emotionlessly as the wheels turned in Kiche's head, and by the look on his face he assumed that maybe his words had managed to finally stick, on some level.

<i>“I guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree then, Sir.” </i> Fair enough.

The dark figure would listen genuinely as the red wolf spoke of strength and furthered his points concerning belief. Though the pair didn't agree on much, Kiche's explanation made relative sense, and Kade was relieved to see the smile emerge on the spiritual anomaly's face. Whether or not it was a good smile or a bad smile, he lacked the personal knowlege to know, but nonetheless his eyes would meet the twinkling gaze of the man with acceptance.

<b>"I am glad I was able to help you with that,"</b> he replied awkwardly, though not from any feeling of alienation. It was just that there was a wierd vibe between the two, perhaps stemming from a natural distrust. He wasn't sure about this or anything at the moment, but a question rang in his head.

<b>"Who is Pangur, anyway?"</b> Yes, he felt slightly ignorant to admit his...<i>ignorance</i>, but if this 'Pangur' meant something to Kiche who'd he'd so painstakingly followed to this godforsaken ridge, then perhaps it was worth investigating further.</blockquote>