One Fish, Two Fish

Hunger burned in her gut as she ranged from the packlands in search of food. Spectre was beginning to feel more at ease with her new place in the pack, having met a few of her packmates, she found herself becoming quite enamored with the world around her. Thoughts of finding out who she was were beginning to fade, replaced by living in the here and now. Perhaps she wasn't one to trifle with pasts or sordid stories of times gone by, Spectre found herself musing as she trotted between the trees. Maybe this was where she was meant to be, what she was meant to do. To enjoy life and live it as if there was nothing else. And for her, there was nothing else.

A tune gathered in her voice as she hummed it, head lowering to follow an invisible trail of scents and interesting pathways. The sound of bubbling water had her abandoning the trail of a rabbit and following it. For a short while, Spectre stood on the shallow bank and stared into the silver waters rushing by. At least, until she saw something shiny darting around underneath the surface. Her stomach rumbled to remind her that it was dinnertime.. So she waded into the water, scaring the fish as she did so. THat was quite allright for her, she intended to wait.

And wait she did, standing still as the water washed past her legs, eyes transfixed by the glimmering sunlight reflecting on the surface, by the way some of the pebbles felt under her paws. Soon enough, the fish began swimming around and under her on their path from point a to point b.. and she took advantage of it. Jaws parting wide, perhaps wider than they should be for fish catching, Spectre lowered her head slowly until her whiskers just barely grazed the waters surface. It was a waiting game then, muscles tensed as she surged her head forward, snapping her jaws shut... and coming up empty. A growl of annoyance rumbled from deep within her chest before she resumed her position and waited for the opportune moment. Here fishy Fishy.

<b style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:12px;"> It was curiosity that had driven the lanky yearling out of the Fen – as well as the familiar feeling of hunger that gnawed painfully at his stomach. Now that XIX was part of a pack he had responsibilities that had not existed during his life as a loner. Prior to joining the Trail, the ghost had grown accustom to the life of a rogue and had preferred the nomadic lifestyle as opposed to having boundaries. Despite the thoughts that clouded his mind, the yearling would follow his blue-eyed companion wherever she took him regardless of whether it was what he wanted or not. He would always put her interests ahead of his own, and would strive to do whatever necessary to keep her happy. But now that he was a member of a pack, it was no longer Lachesis and Anastasia against the world. She had now become his Alpha, alongside Shade, and there were other members of the pack that he had to tend to as well. The puppies, of course, were the most important – and would be that way until they were old enough to fend for themselves. Although the lessons that his blue-eyed friend had prepared for him had been useful, the gangly teen still felt as though he was not prepared for pack life. XIX cursed his former life on the Reserve for sheltering him – if it had not been for Ana coming to his aid after the disappearance of Pyrrhus the ghost would not have made it on his own. It was the sound of bubbling water that pulled the yearling away from his thoughts, pear eyes narrowing as he located the source. Flowing water meant fish, and catching fish was one of the few things that the awkward boy was good at. After taking several steps in the direction of the flowing water, the scent of a stranger slapped against his nostrils. A frown cut into his maw as he weaved around tree trunks, ears flattened against his skull as he approached the body of water. He did not pause until he reached the edge of the brook, chartreuse eyes focused on the pale shape attempting to fish. He pressed his body to the side of a tree that (hopefully) blocked his lanky body from the stranger’s line of sight.

stick with those who stick with you

Slowly, the female remained still, her head hovering close to the surface of the water, ice blue orbs locked on the silver fish darting beneath the surface. The female remained oblivious to her stalker, her attention focused completely on the fish darting beneath her form. Finally, one came within reaching distance and she snapped her jaws forward, head fully submerging beneath the waves before she came up, the prize trapped within her jowls. Fixating her teeth on her catch, Spectre turned, heading towards the waters edge to place her wriggling prize on the ground to shake the water free form her fur. As she lowered her head to gobble the fish down, the winds shifted, and brought with it the smell of the pack. Blinking, she lifted her head, looking towards the location of the scent, but unable to see Lachesis from where he hid. Instead, she lifted the fish and carried it towards the direction she guessed the scent to be and lowered it to rest on a large frond leaf. "Whoever you are..if you are hungry, feel free to have a bite..I can catch more."

Her tone was gentle and good natured as she turned, wading back into the water and once again standing still, waiting for the fish to get used to her presence and once again be swimming beneath her paws. It took some time, and no small amount of patience, but she did eventually manage to capture another of the silver salmon between her teeth and drag it to the shore, this time laying down and trapping hte fish between her paws to munch on it with the side of her mouth. For the time being, she simply waited in silence to see if the other would come out.. or if she would start talking to the wind.

Word Count: 303

<b style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:12px;"> The stranger’s coat carried the familiar scent of the Fen but the lanky yearling did not recognize it – there had only been three females when they first claimed the territory (including Adsila) and XIX had not been keen on meeting the new members. It was what he should be doing, but the yearling was not interested in making friends. The Trail was a family, but it didn’t mean that the long-limbed ghost had to actually ‘befriend’ all the wolves who joined. Although he was now part of a pack – where the members shared and did things together – Lachesis still held onto some of the traits he had picked up during his time as a loner. If it had not been for Anastasia and her desperation to join one of the local packs XIX would have still been wandering the lands of Relic Lore as a rogue. As she spoke his frown deepened, brows narrowing as he finally pulled himself away from the tree and padded toward the edge of the water, though still keeping his distance from the stark white female. Without looking at her, the boy responded in a tone much harder than he had anticipated: <b style="font-family:Georgia; font-size:12px;">“I’m more than capable of catching my own.” Glee bubbled in his chest once the lanky yearling realized that he had uttered a complete sentence without a single stutter while he maintained a solemn expression. Lachesis wasn’t intending to be rude, he was merely stating that he didn’t need someone to catch his dinner for him. Fishing was one of the few things that the awkward yearling was good at, and he would never let another fish for him. Pear gaze focused on the water, XIX swiped a paw into the water to throw a silver fish onto the shore beside him, jaws instantly flying down to cease the creature’s frantic flailing.

(This post was last modified: Jul 31, 2013, 10:33 PM by Lachesis.)

stick with those who stick with you

She smiled when the other pale creature came out and quite showed her up with the fish catching. Spectre chuckled, munching on her own fish as she glanced to the male, the scent of Pitch Pine drifting towards her nose. "That, I can see..I do not believe we have yet met..I am Spectre, Pitch Pines second.." She waited quietly between bites of her fish, watching him. Would he give her his name, or remain a mute? Not that it mattered, she could find his name out from the alphas, it would be as simple as asking Shade or Anastasia the name of the pale male. He looked older, but yet..still young.

"My apologies if I disturbed you in any way." The boy seemed calous, like he just very much wished to be let alone. She began to wonder if he held the rank of second next to her, though she doubted it. He had a certain...attitude about him she found disturbing, but was not certain why. Spectre hoped there would be no problems between the two of them, but sometimes, one just could not be too careful. She finished her fish, then got up to fetch the one she had placed down for him - the one that he had left abandoned in his skorn of being handed something. "I would leave if you were to prefer it." Though she was the second, she was newer to the pack, and wished to step on as few toes as possible.

Word Count: 250

While he admired his blue-eyed dove’s ability to see the best in everyone, Lachesis was incapable of doing so. It was Anastasia who had gotten the lanky yearling to become more comfortable when meeting strangers, but he was still extremely wary. His first encounter in Relic with the nameless shadow female occasionally haunted his thoughts, but XIX knew he was not the same wolf he once was. He was developing into someone that he seldom recognized, but the yearling knew that it was for the better. If he continued to live his life as a nervous wreck he would always be frightened, and he could not stand it any longer. She spoke and the boy could not stop his lip from curling when she acknowledged her rank – aside from Shade and Anastasia, he did not pay attention to ranks. To the ghost, Pitch Pine Trail was a family and he thought it was silly when wolves boasted about their ranks. He had been ashamed of his own rank when the pack had first been established, but as he busied himself with Healer duties XIX began to realize how important he was going to be to the pack. He was going to be the one to take care of them, not some second. <b style="font-family:georgia; font-size:12px;">“Nineteen,” he greeted in a firm tone as he studied her through narrowed brows. <b style="font-family:georgia; font-size:12px;">“Future healer and part-time fisher,” he added with a roll of his shoulders, a frown permanently etched into his dark lips. Although his expression remained stoic, his mind was throwing a party over his lack of stuttering – XIX could not believe how many words had fallen off his tongue without being shadowed by his dreadful stutter. The boy enjoyed being part of a pack – especially one that had both Anastasia and Capella – but he still longed for the freedom that the rogue lifestyle had provided. There were no ranks, no rules; he was able to do what he pleased (as long as he didn’t trespass and wreak havoc, of course). <b style="font-family:georgia; font-size:12px;">“You can do you what you’d like, I just want to fish.” He wasn’t particularly fond of the female (yet) but he was not going to send her away if she wanted to fish – he still couldn’t help but be nice even if he didn’t want to.

stick with those who stick with you

She was impressed by the skill the male displayed in fishing, but saddened when he seemed more intent to ignore her than to strike up a conversation. Though, Spectre was interested to find out that he was a healer of the pack, and that was enough to have her lifting her head from where it was lowered, having begun crunching into the fish she had caught earlier. "Healer? I am pleased to hear that.. I was beginning to worry what might happen should one of our pack gotten injured." That was a partial lie, to be frank, Spectre had not thought much about injuries in the pack, but she was pleased to hear they did have a healer. The pale female finished her fish before she got up and waded back into the water, staring intently at the flashing silver beings beneath the surface.

"If you do not mind my asking, how do you cure ailments of the pack?" She was genuinely curious how healing was done. Spectre had never had to see a healer before, but it left her curious nonetheless about how exactly healing was handled. The female fell silent then, waiting for his answer. Though she mused silently about his name. Nineteen. Where had that come from an why was he called such? Was he the nineteenth pup of his sire and dam? Or was he the nineteenth wolf born into his pack? She did not know the answer to that, but it was an interesting conundrum regardless.

Word Count: 251

(This post was last modified: Aug 12, 2013, 06:23 PM by Spectre.)

After finally finishing the fish that he had caught, the lanky yearling redirected his attention back to the smooth surface of the Brook next to them, pear eyes searching for the silver flash of a fish below. When alone, the boy found fishing to be incredibly relaxing – which was precisely why he preferred to do it on his own. Occasionally he would go with Anastasia by his side, but she wasn’t particularly fond of getting her paws wet. Their fishing expeditions would eventually turn into a splashing fight between two of them, and very few fish would end up being caught. A flicker of a smile appeared on his dark lips at the thought but XIX kept his gaze pinned to the moving water. The boy slowly began lowering his muzzle closer to the water, and without hesitation Lachesis lunged forward, his jaws snapping shut around the smooth body. Just as he placed the fish down at his feet the female began speaking once more, his ears pressed to the back of his skull as he half-listened to the words falling from her tongue. She seemed impressed that he was a healer, though XIX was not interested in her opinion. He had chosen this role mainly for Anastasia, as he knew how desperately she wanted him to fit in among the pack. His decision was also partly personal – the ghost wanted to feel important and useful within the pack, and this was the ideal role for that. While he enjoyed fishing and was exceptionally good at it, any wolf could hunt – it was a trait that all wolves possessed. On the other hand, healing was completely different; it was difficult to learn and required a patience that not many wolves had. He did not respond to the first set of words she had spit out as the ghostly yearling was gorging on the fish he had caught, eyes focused on the kill between his forepaws. It was her next question that finally caused the boy to glance up, cherry tongue dragging across his lips as he mulled over her words. <b style="font-family:georgia; font-size:12px;">“Various medicinal p-plants,” he started quietly, brows narrowing as he glanced down at his paws once more. He mentally cursed at himself for the small stutter that managed to escape, his frown only deepening into his maw. <b style="font-family:georgia; font-size:12px;">“Each one does something different, although some can be d-dangerous if used incorrectly.” Another stutter, another silent curse that echoed through his mind. <b style="font-family:georgia; font-size:12px;">“There are different parts of the plants to use, and they all have unique properties.”

stick with those who stick with you

"I see" Spectre listened to him quietly as he stuttered slightly, though he didn't stutter bad enough for her to notice. The pale female closed her eyes before she looked at Lachesis, then towards the fish between her paws. The female began to eat it in silence, mulling over the things that the yearling was talking about. "Perhaps some day, you can teach me about the herbs that you use. You never know when something like that would come in handy." She smiled softly, her tail wagging lightly as she looked towards pack lands. Her thoughts returned to the pups in the den and wondered if Lachesis could heal anything. The way he spoke, he seemed confident, despite the fact that he was just a yearling.

"Are there things you can not heal?" Or cure.. or what have you. She blinked, then shifted her front paws quietly. "And, what would you use if you were faced with something that was not viral? That was say, an external wound, perhaps?" She was content to sit and listen to Lachesis, and the stories he would tell, even if he did stutter a littler, or she had to drag the answers from him with her teeth. Spectre knew that she would leave soon, getting the answers she wanted or not - it was growing dark and she did not want to be stuck near the river without the shelter of the pack. As their conversation wound down, the female had gotten to her feet and given the male a smile. "It was a pleasure speaking with you.."


OOC: Awkward end is awkward. lol

words 464 The yearling found it strange that another was actually interested in the practice of medicinal herbs. It was not as exciting as hunting or healing, but it was just as – if not more – useful. There were some things that could be healed over time, but without a healer present some wounds could eventually lead to fatalities. Her suggestion tore him away from his thoughts, pear eyes widening softly as he studied the female with eyes made of ice. He nodded, slowly, before spitting out a proper response. <b style="font-family:georgia; font-size:12px;">“Sure, if you’d like.” It would be beneficial for another wolf of Pitch Pine to learn the basics of medicinal plants, as there may be times where the healer would not be present. While he was unsure of how he felt toward the pale female, XIX would not object to teaching another about the use of medicinal plants – especially one who actually showed an interest in his field of interest. <b style="font-family:georgia; font-size:12px;">“There are some things that cannot be healed, of course. Serious injuries, internal p-problems that healer’s cannot see, and the like,” he started with a roll of his shoulders as he searched his memory for answers to the questions she asked. <b style="font-family:georgia; font-size:12px;">“External wounds, d-depending on the severity, are usually easy. Most medicinal plants can be ingested, b-but some you can make ointments out of and apply directly to the wound.” Another nod came as his eyes trailed away from the slender Trail wolf. <b style="font-family:georgia; font-size:12px;">“But there are some plants that are useful that, when used incorrectly, can also be dangerous. It’s the healer’s job to learn as much as they can about the p-plants they are going to use, along with the ones not to use. And if one is ever unsure about a plant, it’s p-probably not safe,” he finished with a light chuckle, eyes still focused on the meandering Brook at his side. As he finished, Lachesis was surprised that the Spectre had sat so patiently while he spoke – and wasn’t falling asleep when he uttered his final words. The forest around them had begun to darken as night started to take over, the sun slowly falling from its perch in the sky. Just as he was about to excuse himself, the silvery female had beaten him to the punch, her voice breaking the silence that had fallen over them. With a ghost of a smile, he acknowledged her words with a flick of his tail while he pushed himself to a stand. <b style="font-family:georgia; font-size:12px;">“You as well.” He wasn’t sure where Spectre was headed – probably back to the dens – but XIX enjoyed wandering through the trees after the sun went down. <b style="font-family:georgia; font-size:12px;">“I’ll see you around, Spectre.” And with that, the lanky boy turned to disappear into the shadows of the forest.

stick with those who stick with you