"—and what rough beast, its hour come round at last, slouches towards bethlehem to be born?" Her steps are quiet as any wolf's ought to be. Small paws pick through the undergrowth with an ingrained dexterity, her lamplight eyes glowing balefully in the moonlight. It is faint, obscured partly by clouds. It had rained earlier, and the lower half of her body is slick with water, the musty smell of wet earth rising thickly in the spring night. A slow inhale expands the side of her ribs and her chest, those flaring nostrils detect a pack border. Sweat springs to her skin; the thought of interaction, the thought of words being exchanged, it vaguely terrified her. Vaguely because if she looked at her fears face-to-face, they would dismantle her completely. She much preferred glancing at them through the blurry corners of her peripheral vision. She toys with fleeting thoughts as she stands silently, a safe distance from the border. It seems to be taunting her. But she knows she must ground herself— a yearling had no business wandering about alone. It was spring now, but it would inevitably be winter, and what then? She calls for no one in particular. It is a low, baying call, languid almost. And uncertain. But it is out there now. That was one small relief. OOC: Anyone can join, but please allow Macha to reply first! |
Macha hadn't been far. In fact, she'd been pressed close to the lagoon throughout the better part of the evening, deciding that a cloudy night was just as good enough as any to partake in some late night scrying. Bluntly speaking, the young witch felt as if she'd been rather lackluster in regards to her spirituality as of late, and it was with utmost certainty that she'd shamefully admit that her precious Moon Mother must have been frowning down on her because of it. With puppies rolling in and coyote's running rampant, the young Archer would need to be in the favor of her deity now more than ever. Scrying was a good start, especially since it'd been what felt like ages since she'd been able to complete the task in peace.
Thankfully, the near yearling had just been wrapping up for the night when an obscure call rang through the sky. What was a stranger doing at their boarders this time of night? Now Macha was positive that someone else would be on their way to scope out the situation soon enough, but worst case scenario told the fae that perhaps the wolf in question had been injured by one of those small, feral beast. Mayhaps a medic would also be necessary.
Approaching the boarders with caution, Macha noted a smaller, female wolf waiting patiently for someone to greet her. It seemed innocent enough, though the pup noted that she did seem a bit frightened. "Is everything alright? Are you looking for someone?"
The woman was on her way to patrol the borders, something she often did at night, when she heard the call. A pale muzzle instinctually lifted towards the sky to taste the air, and pull in whatever information it could. There was a stranger's perfume alongside Macha's. Another Archer, perhaps? Or maybe they had a new recruit hoping to stow away until the coyote problem was dealt with? Whatever it was, Celandine figured it might be a good idea to change her course, and figure it out herself.
The Argyris' assessment began as soon as her bright eyes met the stranger's mass. Small statue, with grey fur, and something akin to a dark mask which adorned the woman's face. Her features didn't scream Archer, but it wasn't the most far-fetched idea. Coming to stand beside Macha, the woman spoke. "Did you need something?"
"—and what rough beast, its hour come round at last, slouches towards bethlehem to be born?" The time she had to herself was limited. The quiet in-between, the realisation of what she was doing. She felt queerly disconnected, but was unsure of it was her own doing or if it was just the way the moonlight splayed shadows across the ground like ghastly surreal nighttime things, impossible bones and all. The feeling of unsettledness latches onto her and grows. She is almost relieved when a wolf approaches. She was a yearling, and of dark complexion, just like her, and her countenance was a cautious one. Grendel shifts back slightly, her legs bunched beneath her, dark ears at half-mast. Her eyes, usually hooded, are now too large for her face, and they twitch nervously, frenetically at the arrival of the pale woman, who was quick with child. She could tell by the contrast between her elfish limbs and the rounded stomach. Her chin disappears into the tuft of fur at her thin chest. "Grendel," she says, in a voice ragged with disuse. Then she raises her chin, as if to confirm that it was, indeed, her name, and not anyone else's. "Looking for a home. A pack." Her gaze falls again, down to her sooty feet. She looks younger than she really is— underfed, not quite out of the gangly awkwardness typical of an adolescent, and sullen. But most of all, she carries that slight air of bitter lonesome and wildness that comes from long weeks of being all by one's self. |
Correction, the girl in front of her was petrified. "H-Hey..Are you alright?" Macha frowned, unsure of what to do to ease her companies nerves. Mere seconds later, Celandine made an appearance. The Archer was surprised to see the stark white woman, especially in her.. Current condition. However she supposed that one of the leaders needed to show, and they were both just about the same in the stomach region at this point in time. At the very least, the stranger hadn't appeared dangerous. With any luck it'd stay that way.
"Grendel.. What a lovely name." The witch spoke in soft tones, hoping not to spoke the fae further. "I'm Macha." she smiled, listening on as she and Celandine exchanged words. So the female was looking for a home, huh? It made sense. She appeared around Macha's age, and with coyote's running rampant..
The stranger managed a word, no a name, through her hoarseness. Grendel. No surname was offered, and Celandine didn't care to ask for one. If she had been an Archer, she would have mentioned it. Skoll's inky daughter was quick to respond, her pleasantries unsurprising given the soot-furred woman's tattered appearance. As Grendel stated her mission, Cela found her eyes trailing along the young wolf's sunken-in sides. Was it wise to accept someone so.. thin, and frightened at a time like this? The cubs weren't far off, and Pookastone wasn't a place for those who needed coddling. Still, coyotes were swarming the area, and there something to be said about strength in numbers.
Amber eyes flickered to Macha, noting the soft, and soothing tones she used. Should Celandine choose to send the yearling off alone, she could very well be sentencing her to death. "I'm Celandine, and this is Pookastone Scowle." The woman motioned to the area around them, before settling her gaze once more upon the masked stranger. "If it's coddling you're looking for, you've stumbled across the wrong place." They weren't in the business of taking in strays to leech their resource without putting in the effort necessary to sustain the pack. "Everything comes at a price, so in exchange for safety and medics, we'd expect you to pull your own weight. Two litters will be born here in the coming months, and it wouldn't hurt to have an extra set of paws, so long as those paws don't become an added burden."
Celandine waited for the girl to respond, curious as to whether she had the mettle to enter their ranks or not. Would the sooty woman turn tail, and run, or would she rise to the challenge?
"—and what rough beast, its hour come round at last, slouches towards bethlehem to be born?" Grendel manages a fleeting smile of the nervous to the girl, who was insistent on making her comfortable. She is surprised, suspicious of Macha's kind demeanour, but the ebony girl's gentleness was infectious. It was quite an alien thing to Grendel. Not so wolf-like, but pleasant, nevertheless. She knows that it will take her a while to get used to speaking so eloquently and reassuringly. She wonders if she ever will be able to. Then the woman starts talking, and Grendel obediently turns towards her voice, ears flicking as she processes this new information. Celandine. Macha. Pookastone Scowle. All strange names, the likes of which she has never heard before. She feels slightly indignant at Celandine's next words— everything did come at a price. She knew that very well, but she also supposed that it was necessary to say as a leader inviting a complete stranger into their home. The wrong choice, and the leader could be weakening her own pack from the inside. Grendel didn't care much for kids, and she didn't expect that to change all so suddenly, but she would try. By god, she would try."Grendel will pull her own weight," she says. She has never heard of the phrase of pulling her own weight before, but she feels that she's right to assume that its similar to making a use for oneself. "She will even help with the pups, if she needs to." Her face is serious, determined, the jut of her chin ambitious. She wasn't the type of wolf who would break easily— and it showed in the hard stare of her eyes that only comes around from being forced to grow up so fast. |
So Celandine would extend pookastone's paw after all. A sense of relief flooded through Macha as her superior spoke, knowing all too well by the appearance of the wolf before them now that she likely wouldn't last more than a couple of minutes against even one coyote. Plus, the fae's next words honestly had the young Archer convinced that she was determined to be an asset to the pack. "I could try to get her started? Maybe she could help me hunt, still need some more furs for your birthing den.." It was an offhanded comment meant to sway the leader further if she hadn't already settled on a solid decision, though whether or not it would work was another story.
Almost as if they could hear Macha thinking about them, four of the viscous, nasty creatures crawled out from under the comfort of the shadows, showing no sure sign of wanting to share friendly introductions. "Honestly speaking, I think I'd be perfectly fine if I went the rest of my life without seeing another one of these guys."
"Then come. You're welcome to stay." A light smile adorned the woman's features as Grendel agreed. If she thought she could hang, then far be it from Celandine to prevent her from doing so. Time would tell whether or not the sooty-furred woman was an asset or a liability, but now she'd have a chance to prove her worth. Macha was quick as ever to offer her services, something that the white queen was grateful for. One less thing for her to worry about. "Tend to her first. See that she eats, and that her condition improves."
The alabaster woman meant to step forward, her jaws parted, and ready to grab lightly at the newcomer's muzzle. She would have followed up by running her shoulder along the length of the silver-dusted, yet sunken in sides of the younger female, but a different musk entered the air before she got the chance. Coyotes.
White teeth glistened in the moonlight as the Argyris' lips drew back, and her eyes flickered to find them. Four of the creatures emerged from the shadows, confidence reading clear in their posture. Celandine might have chanced a fight, but the swell of her sides, and the state of their newcomer stopped her. "We'll retreat for now. Come along."