Riddle Heights the REAL slim shady

Early morning, mostly Cloudy — Current Temperature: 36° F/2° C. Set at the southernmost point of Relic Lore/Riddle Heights.

<blockquote><font style='margin-left:20px;'><i>"Hey, can you smell this?"</font>

<font style='margin-left:20px;'>"Yeah, I can. We should probably get moving."</font>

<font style='margin-left:20px;'>Trisden hesitated, not sure about that verdict. As fulfilling as it was that she and Hocus had been able to sustain themselves so far - even if 80% of their diet consisted of scavenged remains - she knew that they would not be able to viably keep it up. Life was tough when you didn't have a pack around you.</font>

<font style='margin-left:20px;'>She could not let such thoughts make her regret, though. She had had to leave. It was for the good of them all that she was gone. Trisden Lyall brought nothing but darkness to the Hollow, and she could not afford to risk her family's life because of her sins.</font>

<font style='margin-left:20px;'>She looked over to see Hocus staring impatiently at her, obviously keen to get on with it. She hesitated. These were the first wolves they had come across so far, and she did not need to feel guilt for bringing darkness to stranger's doorsteps, not if they fed her...</font>

<font style='margin-left:20px;'>"Come on," she said decisively, turning about to follow the scent trail. She did not see her brother roll his eyes and scowl at her back.</font></i>

--

Her heart beat heavily in her chest, a drumbeat to match her even steps. Every foot she drew closer was another foot further gone, and another foot she could not take back. She had thought that it would be difficult, this journey. When she had first turned back, the weight of it had been like a thick chain around her neck, dragging her down, begging her to stop. Those first steps had been the hardest.

At some point, a line was crossed, and she realised that the only way was onwards. It was strange, when she thought about it: the only way to go <i>forwards</i> was to go <i>back</i>. Back to her forest. Back to where her old demons lived.

But demons didn't really exist, did they?

As Trisden descended from the rocky foothills of southern Relic Lore, she happened to glance up and get a faceful of wind. It was funny how something as simple as a familiar scent was enough to bring a warmth to her chest, as if the barest of reminders of home lit a pleasant fire in your belly. Maybe that's what home was. Something which kept you snug, safe, secure. She tried to hold back the bitter reminder that she was a potential breach to that haven. While a lot of her perceptions had changed, it was difficult to break old habits, to simply dismiss old beliefs - especially when your nose was full of memories and nostalgia.

Was it so wrong to be nostalgic at her age? She was just a year old, and yet she felt as though she had endured five times as many. Hjornir had laughed at her and called her wise beyond her time. It was difficult to know just how much he was joking, and on that occasion, she had gotten angry with him. She had gotten angry with him a lot, come to think of it.

The view was quite spectacular from up here. She paused to stare at the world beneath her, amber eyes widening as the breath caught in her throat, and she nearly put her paw down without taking that forward step.

Demons existed. Trisden's lived in that world below her. So young, yet so full of doubt and regret, and she was afraid of what might resurface when she got back - but that was the whole point. Hjornir had been right, and as she stood there, gazing out at the forest of her birth, she knew it. Trisden Lyall did not run away from things. Trisden Lyall was proud, determined, and the daughter of a strong leader. She would not allow herself to be a stain in her mother's memory, nor the history of Grizzly Hollow. Trisden Lyall was a force to be reckoned with.

The paw moved forwards, came down, and without hesitation the young, troubled, headstrong girl walked on.

<font style='margin-left:20px;'>Trisden Lyall was <i>back</i>, bitches.</font></blockquote>

The she-wolf weaved over the mountains, each step just a tiny road-block on her exploration. She was to remember everything. Each little pebble was casted upon her knowledge, every single prance was on a perfect angle and memorized. Her heart beat kept her in synchronized rhythm, her body the envy of the world. The morning chill kept her awake and lively, her movements as fluid as a dancer’s. She was slightly cold, but with a thick glistening coat she was kept in tip-top condition through the early morning fog. Her alluring figure whirled like a tornado, leaving things dazed and destroyed in her path. Her enchanting eyes were fixated upon the body of another, moving in the distance. Tantalized by the very presence, Treena bounded after, easily shortening the space between the two. She took in an unknown scent, searching for some sign of danger. There was little to fear about the newcomer, but still Treena was careful to watch and learn before attempting conversation.

Her strut was appealing. Birds flew closer to risk a better glimpse. Creatures of all sorts were drawn to the vibe she held. She had the charm of a hunter, with murderous fangs and cursed claws. Her exterior was a portal to the soul, deprived from the world around her. Finally she felt comfortable making herself known, soundless breaths finally being heard over the wind. <b>“Hello.”</b> Her voice was a chiming bell, or the clapping of an amused child. It radiated feline behaviour, contradicted by her wolf form. She was a clever girl, with the curiosity of a newborn and experience of an elder. She didn’t want a fight with the loner, just wanted to socialize, meet someone knew. <b>“It’s quite early for a loner to be up and about,”</b> Her voice was far from accusing, more of a gentle question without an answer, <b>“don’t you think?”</b>

It didn’t matter. Either way both she-wolves were up, with totally different history and stories, meeting in the early morning light. The wind swirled around Treena, her paws frozen to her grip on the edge of a mountain, overlooking the rest of the world. Her eyes beamed with a fantasy aura, the atmosphere around the she-wolf one of a fire. She was welcoming, warm, open, yet dangerous and so attractive. It was hardly fair. <b>“I hadn’t seen you around here before.”</b>

That wasn’t saying much.

She was new to the mountains, which was impossible to tell by the way she moved. Yet she was still searching for some sign of recognition, like she had met the female before. It was unlikely. Treena knew very little of anyone from Relic Lore.

<blockquote>Entranced by the world beneath her, Trisden had been fairly oblivious to her more immediate surroundings. So long as the scent of bear, cougar or other threat didn't waft her way, she was not concerned; she was not hunting, nor doing anything but travelling. Always travelling. She had not realised just how far she and Hocus had gone with the Pilgrimage... needless to say, it had been quite the journey.

Of course, that only made her return all the sweeter.

The single word of greeting caught her ears, and she almost did not stop if not for the belief that it was for her - and even then, only because it had sounded so close. Though she did not really care for hurting the feelings of some random stranger, she did not fancy causing insult, especially because she was young and too tired to resist. Reluctantly, she did stop, turning her head towards the lithe shape which made its way towards her. For a moment Trisden simply watched, finding her movements pleasingly elegant. Trisden was not a wolf built for life on a mountain; her footing lacked confidence and expertise. But soon she would be on flat ground again, and all the better.

Her ears twisted forwards as the elegant stranger spoke again, her voice as smooth as her step. The young girl was too weary to take offence at such a statement (though she felt an unpleasant chill down her spine at the reminder of the fact that she was <i>very much alone</i>), and besides, it did not seem to have been said at her expense. A faint, innocent curiosity piqued within her, and she waited as the woman came up to the edge of the mountain beside her. The stranger was alluring in a way which implied that she knew it, too - and while Trisden did not share that mystique, she did share that confidence. She may have been intrigued by this female's aura, but she was not intimidated by it.

<b>"I've never been up this far before,"</b> she replied honestly, tilting her head slightly as she observed the older female carefully. <b>"And I always thought that a wolf on her own did not exactly have the luxury of lazy mornings. Besides, I have somewhere to be."</b> <i>I didn't come this far by making a habit of loitering.</i></blockquote>

Nothing even slightly interesting had happened to her, yet. Mist did feel more secure and confident now that she belonged to a pack. However, with the added stability and simplicity came a new feeling of boredom. Now that she wasn't constantly traveling or searching for food, she didn't know what to do with herself. She hadn't made much of an effort to seek out her new pack-mates. Actually, she hadn't made any effort at all. Different scenarios of rejection whizzed through her mind. Her social-awkwardness and slight stutter could make even the simplest encounter a nightmare.

The silver female was now exploring. She recognized her current surroundings, and the bloodstains. She was observing the area where she had killed the mountain goat not too long ago. A task that seemed easy enough, and even though she succeeded, the goat had managed to kick her in the head. This had been her challenge that was supposed to prove her worthy enough to join Poison Path. The alpha had suggested to see a healer, considering the blow had managed to break the skin, but she ignored this instruction. Not out of spite; she simply lacked the courage to ask any of the others for help. Also, she'd sustained worse damage without the help of a healer. She was sure she'd be fine.

She began to lackadaisically climb back down the mountain, but quickly stopped. She quickly jerked her head towards the direction of the sound. She could barely hear it, but it seemed as though someone was having a conversation. She lifted her nose in the air and took a few short whiffs. She recognized one scent as a fellow pack-mate. The other was unknown. Mist knew that she had to eventually start making friends...or at least acquaintances. She winced slightly at the thought of having to strike up a conversation, but it was now or never. The others weren't too far away. She set off in a slow paced trot, her face lacking enthusiasm. As she spotted the two wolves, she slowed down to a walk. Mist smiled politely (at least she intended politeness, but her face had been contorted into an awkward grin). She caught the last few words of the younger wolf. It seemed as though the young she-wolf was alone. Mist understood the feeling of constantly being on the move. She was a loner at a young age, as well.
<b>"Where are you going?"</b> Mist asked.

<a href="http://s1256.photobucket.com/albums/ii496/jennyfromtheblock22/?action=view&amp;current=28wkupd.png" target="_blank"><img src="http://i1256.photobucket.com/albums/ii496/jennyfromtheblock22/28wkupd.png" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a>

never fear shadows, they simply mean there's a light sinning nearby

Treena took a seat, her tail weaving calligraphy in the sky. She was listening to the female, and showed she was listening, but the world around her demanded as much attention. The morning birds singing an enchanting lullaby, the way the clouds covered the sky and moved so boringly slow. It all seemed to be calling her name. The fur on her back-legs was darker than her forepaws, quite a unique trait. There was nothing about the wolf that could be recreated, not even the most gifted hands could replicate the power the wolf held. Every inch of her body was different, from the top of her golden touched tail, to the long snout full of fierce fangs. <b>“Don’t we all?”</b>

It was a rhetorical question, barley said to the other wolf. It was more of a thought out loud, it meant little. Her pixie face lit up like the sun, questioning where such a young wolf had to go. She’d never ask. It would be inappropriate to ask such a thing from a stranger, or seemed that way for her. Everyone needed to be somewhere, had something of such significance to do. Treena gave up long ago. The majestic woman wasn’t trying to snoop or get into details, but she wanted to make sure the child was safe. She could do very little to help, but she’d offer what she could.

When the other wolf appeared, Treena remembered her instantly. Her name was Mist, slightly above her in stature. The thought was slightly frustrating, but understandable. Still her tail didn’t drop from the sky. She didn’t have to agree with the rank given, but it wasn’t much of a threat. Maybe it was a hidden challenge, an offer that could be taken or left. She wouldn’t push it too far. It didn’t matter much at all, just was used as an ego boost and a sign for the pack. <b>“Hello Mist.”</b>

Her voice was light, a slight <span class='word'>gambit</span> not involving the loner at all. She showed no sign of aggression. She wasn’t being snarky. She was only testing the boundaries and the she-wolf’s personality.

(This post was last modified: May 20, 2012, 09:24 PM by Treena.)

<blockquote>You know, Trisden might have been young, but she was fairly certain that this was not quite how conversations worked. The 'I have somewhere to be' had been a subtle hint that she had hoped the woman would recognise. Trisden had gone a few days now with no social interaction, and while it was not something that the girl craved it was oddly relieving to experience it.

But she hadn't been joking. She really did have somewhere to be.

The rhetoric threw her for a moment, and with strained politeness she waited for the woman to elaborate, to say something she could actually respond to. Or did she rely on nothing but her whimsy to carry conversations? Well, that was going to get old fast, and Trisden frowned slightly, entirely prepared to point out this flaw in her social skills. <i>Well, it was nice chatting with you...</i>

But He was in a generous mood today, and saw fit to bestow upon Trisden yet more company, clearly feeling that her lack of it of late was in need of some compensation. It did not take long to realise that the two women knew one another, and it occurred then to Trisden to pay attention to their scents; sure enough, they bore the same pack signature. Well, wasn't this delightful. Her expression changed to one of patient weariness as the grey newcomer drew close, posing her rather intrusive question without hesitation or introduction. Was it really any of her business? Trisden hadn't really said it to invite an interrogation - <i>she had been trying to be subtle.</i> This was why she didn't usually bother. Everything was so much easier when you just said what you meant.

An ear twisted automatically towards the first woman as she greeted the other, Mist. Any teasing undertones to the manner of her voice were lost completely on the young Lyall, who really had no interest in the politics of a pack which was not her own. Trisden grappled with the question that had been posed to her for a moment, discomforted by its forwardness and by the way she had been so effectively sought out by two members of an unknown pack. This was neutral territory, she was quite sure. Was there something she didn't know? <b>"Home."</b> There. Simple enough. Perhaps they would get the hint now, or did she have to smack them around the head with it?

Taking a step back (just to regain her comfort zone) the new angle let her better watch the two strangers, and kept her just out of their reach. She was not accustomed to being treated with pseudo-friendly familiarity by pure strangers, and it rather unnerved her.</blockquote>

(This post was last modified: May 21, 2012, 05:01 PM by Trisden.)

Mist was not really good at picking up social cues. She didn't notice any signals that Treena may have displayed. She nodded at Treena as soon as she was greeted, "Hi there, uhh..Treenaaa?" she responded.. Mist was almost positive that was the wolf's name, however, her lack of confidence got the best of her. Mist surveyed Treena's face for any sign of dissatisfaction, eyes wide and ears slowly bending backwards. '<i>Well, I'm sure she'll eventually correct me if I got it wrong..</i>' Mist thought. She then shook her head, and refocused her attention to the young loner.

Mist did, however, get the idea that the young wolf was not necessarily happy about this encounter. Mist felt an overwhelming sense of awkwardness. She now wished she hadn't investigated the conversation at all. Yet, the young wolf did respond. <i>Home.</i>

<b>"That's, that's good.."</b> Mist said, <b>"Not a lot of loners can call a place home."</b> However, Mist had a feeling that the wolf was not the regular loner. She didn't know what else to say, sort of feeling she'd interrupted a conversation that wasn't necessarily welcomed in the first place.

<a href="http://s1256.photobucket.com/albums/ii496/jennyfromtheblock22/?action=view&amp;current=28wkupd.png" target="_blank"><img src="http://i1256.photobucket.com/albums/ii496/jennyfromtheblock22/28wkupd.png" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a>

never fear shadows, they simply mean there's a light sinning nearby

Treena was unsure of the loner, searching for some sign of threat in body language. If one was there, it could not be found, and Treena was left with an odd taste in her mouth, still desperately searching. She was one to worry, and with a fellow pack-mate here being worried was a terrible option. Had it just been her, she would have ignored the softly spoken hints and stuck around, more out of spite than curiosity. She didn’t get happiness of others’ frustration, but the loner triggered something deep in the female that couldn’t be ignored. There was always some meaning deeper in her words that Treena didn’t understand, like an inside joke with a friend. No one else was supposed to know, but it was meaningful to those two people. Sensing Mist’s emotion climate, the she-wolf lowered her softened head and gave her a comforting lick on the white shoulder, stepping forward protectively. It was not at all there to threaten Trisden. It was merely instinct to want to reassure her pack-mate she was well looked after, even if it was a barely noticeable reaction. <b>“You left this home.”</b>

It was accusing, questioning the female’s loyalty. It was merely a knee-jerk reaction, spilling out of her mouth with a slight hiss. She hadn’t even noticed that her tail was still strained as high as it would allow, standing as strongly and bold as she dared. Had she gotten lost, or kicked out at such a young age? No matter the innocence, Treena still beamed beside Mist, a forepaw strained out to block her off from danger. Treena had left her old home, and would never dare go back. So, what was this she-wolf’s story?

It wasn’t important.

What was important was that Mist was comfortable around the new-comer. That need there be violence, the submissive female was kept in the safety of her watch-full eye. Not doubting her strength, or fighting ability, Treena only wanted to keep her in one piece and walk back to the dens without blood. Her teeth were not bared, her fur did not bristle and she was in well control of her aggression. There was no need to attack such a young child, but there was a need to create a bond with Mist, a she-wolf who slept near the same den as she. <b>“We did not mean to provoke an obstacle, you may leave. We will not follow, and you can return to this home.” </b>

<blockquote>The unsure reply of the second woman made Trisden frown a little, finding this entire situation rather strange. But though the packwolf appeared to be uncomfortable, the sentiment had not been nasty; Trisden inclined her head in agreement, appreciative of the comment. Yes, it was nice that she had somewhere to call home. Whether or not she would be able to call it that in the long-term... well, that was another thing.

<i>You left this home.</i>

Instantly her demeanour shifted, the wary friendliness (or at least, lack of hostility) dissolving and replaced with the ghost of a sneer. Just what was that supposed to mean? She knew nothing about it - and it was not Trisden to shove her nose in somebody else's business! Had Trisden been making rude accusations about them? No, not at all. So what was her problem?

She did not like the way in which the timber woman saw fit to comfort the grey one, as if Trisden had been terribly upsetting - or maybe they were just offended by her presence? <i>The presence they had imposed upon themselves?</i> Trisden had <i>no</i> reason to be civil to a pair of nobodies such as this, no reason save the desire to please a greater being. But did satisfying God mean that she had to stand by and let herself be insulted? Surely, showing weakness was the last thing that would impress anybody.

<b>"What's it to you?"</b> she snapped, her amber eyes flashing as she glared at the timber woman. <b>"You like preying on wolves you don't know? Laughing at them, maybe? Was that the point of barging in, to come and <i>judge</i> me? Get off on that, do you?"</b></blockquote>

The air had grown tense and awkward, the timber she-wolf staring wide-eyed as the brat told her off. Was she mentally unstable? The female didn’t want to find out. She hadn’t expected things to turn out in this respect, but there was no point letting aggression take over. She didn’t want things to get physical, especially not with Mist here. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she was not use to so must drama so early, the wolf merely stepped back and let the child fuse over. It was time to leave and go back to bed.

She did regret jumping to conclusions, but there wasn’t much to go off of. The younger female had the social skills of a star-fish. There was no, “Hi, nice to meet you,” or, “I best be going,” it was full on, “leave me the fuck alone”. That wasn’t something Treena reacted well to. Her eyes burned in frustration, but still her fur was rested nicely along her spine, trying to cool herself off. <b>“I was merely trying to understand your situation loner.”</b>

But obviously, it isn’t understandable to those in right of mind. It was like a game only people on LSD could play, if you weren’t high and imagining things around you, it wasn’t fun. This situation wasn’t fun. There were no rules or guidelines, Treena was just winging it. <b>“I see it’s better if I go.”</b>

She wouldn’t ask Mist to follow, though she hated to leave the female alone with Tristen. It felt wrong to turn her back on the younger wolf too, walking past Mist and trotting off, eyes glancing behind her unnervingly. She <i>really</i> hoped she pack-mate would follow.

OOC: Sorry to post out of order, just got bored of seeing this thread go to waste. Feel free to post or archive depending on who posts when.

(This post was last modified: Jun 10, 2012, 10:51 PM by Treena.)