is it still light outside

The creek flowed swiftly but gently at her feet. It dripped from her maw, onto her paws as she stared at them in a daze.

Later on, if anyone asked Volkan how she found it, or how she found her way back to Relic Lore, she'd have no idea. The past few weeks— months, years— were a blur of hunger, anger, regret for ever leaving this place. The same darkness burned in her chest now as it heaved in and out with deep breaths. She fixated emptily on the ground, letting the feeling of the cool water course through her body. It seemed to part the clouds in her head, but the clarity only made it hurt worse.

But she couldn't just stand there. She bent to take another long drink before lifting her head to take in her surroundings. The forest was green, cool, and dark, saturated with the wetness of a rain that had just ended. Everything smelled fresh and full of life— and she thought she could smell wolves, but at this point in her travels it was hard to tell. Moving across the endless forests and wastelands, she thought she'd smelled wolves a few times— but for all her searching, no one was ever there...

She couldn't even remember how long she'd been gone. A year? Two? More? Would anyone she used to know even still be here, still be alive? Many times she found herself thinking of Ruiko and Aeylen, of Kinis, of Indru... of Triell...

But this part of Relic Lore was an area she'd never had the chance to explore before. She knew the sight of the vast mountains that heralded her arrival, she guessed that she was on the other side of them. Were there even wolves or packs, over here...?

She could howl. If anyone was nearby, they'd hear and approach, right?

Silently, she stood, one half of her mind battling the other. Howling was frowned upon, she knew. Packs hated it. Hell, she'd even exploded on someone before, some old loner whose name she couldn't even remember anymore for how long it'd been. And besides, the wrong wolf could find her...

...Fuck it, she thought with a blink, and lifted her head to the sky. She sent out a long, lonely howl that echoed through the woods, and when it finished, it rang in the soft silence of the woods. And then she waited.

(This post was last modified: Mar 28, 2014, 02:44 PM by Volkan.)

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Despite the slowness the borders now proposed, the male had yet to give up on his routine on a daily basis. That did not mean he would not deviate from it time to time, and in times as desperate at these, one never simply gave up hope that some form of prey would be found – enough to feed the starving wolves of Magnolia Glen.

What he had not expected, as his paws loped down the river edge, was a howl of another to resound, calling out to those of the pack. He did not hesitate upon the cry, though the melodic tune revealed sadness within its depth. It was something he could relate to – and yet, it did not tug his heartstrings as it might others; Magnolia Glen had known pain, loneliness and desperation this winter.

Loping along, he was able to meet her rather swiftly in turn. His bright eyes would rove across inky fur, noting her scent was not of their neighboring pack. Ushering a growl to announce his presence, the regal king, while thinned greatly from the winter, still managed to hold himself at an impressive height. "What is it you want with the wolves of Magnolia Glen?" His tone was a rumble – not unfriendly, and yet also not welcoming. His features remained indifferent as he studied her, impressed that a lone wolf had managed to survive a winter such as this. He did not know her, and yet there seemed to be something disoriented of the girl before him – but he could only wait and see what it was she craved from his presence.

[ Lol @ Magnolia Church ;D ]

Her howl ended on a sad note, and she was left to the silence around her. Her eyes slid shut, and she waited. A chill breeze stirred the branches of the forest, a whisper echoing in the darkness behind her eyes. And then, pawfalls.

Volkan opened her eyes with a blink, feeling the wind in her fur, the anticipation pulsing in her chest. Her body felt numb with nerves, a tingling discomfort that commanded her to run from the wolf who approached. But she battled it, pale stormy eyes narrowing to slits, standing her ground in the forest despite herself. This was it. This moment marked the crux of what must have been nearly two years by now... The soft pawfalls drew nearer, growing louder and louder with each second alongside the heartbeat that rang inside her ears. The wolf's scent preceded him: male. Strong. A stranger. She bowed her head, senses awake and tail tucked low in what she hoped would be a display of submission.

The growl could have begun softly enough, yet it sounded like thunder to Volkan's ears. She looked to her right, and he was there.

He stood a deal taller than her, and his coat was a shaggy milk-white, the color of snow on mountains. His stance, regal, neutral, confident. His face, blank, though maybe there was a curiosity somewhere in the deep amber of his eyes. Her trepidation had dissolved; behind it her resolve stood strong, and though her entire body ached, her mind was clear. As he spoke, his words a simple question, she looked up at him calmly.

It was a simple question, though Volkan had a million answers.

"Magnolia Glen..." she repeated, tasting the name. It must be a new pack, one that formed in her absence. Her eyes had trailed away for a moment, but she brought them back to the male before her. He was tall, built well, but Volkan had never met a white Tainn. Could he be part of one of the other families who'd lived in Relic Lore...? His age, though— he seemed to have at least a year on her, maybe more. Maybe something of a newcomer...?

"...I'm—" her voice came out in a rasp. It had been months since she'd spoken aloud. "I'm looking for Ruiko Tainn... Or Indru. Any of their family," she added, hoping for some sign of recognition in the ivory wolf's stoic mask, eyes tracing the outline of his face between glances up from her paws.

Aw.. sorry. :c Phin has no patience for OTB right now. He's a bitter old man.

She was a pretty creature – perhaps this was something he noticed more as he and his mate stood upon the ‘outs’ from one another. Yet even despite his anger at Borlla and the absolute selfishness she had displayed would not allow his eyes to stray for long, and he would only lift his muzzle up higher the moment she lowered before him. She was so very close to his lands, and while the Glen wolves did not claim this far out, any wolf who dared come so close was always worth the inspection.

Ironic were the words that slipped past her mouth, though. A sardonic snort escaped him then, his paws shifting his large figure as he allowed the silence to stretch before them momentarily. He did not know what to make of this dark wraith near his home, but he did not consider her a threat.. at least, not yet.

“If it is the Tainn’s you seek, the only one you’ll find here is my mate, Borlla. However,” he drawled, tempted to simply send her on her way and be done with it – what did he care if they were reunited with this little scrap of a lone wolf? “Her brother lives in a pack called Oak Tree Bend, more south of here. I don’t know their names.” Nor did he particularly care to learn them, at this very moment.

With a nod in the direction to which she should take, the large male pulled away then, his own form beginning to amble back the way to his own secluded territory. “Give Magnolia Glen’s warmest regards,” he uttered dryly after her, thinking sourly of the position his co-lead had put them in.

Fast! Since I need to get back to work :]

He took a second to answer her, and Volkan held her breath. As the wolf spoke, her posture grew from submission to neutrality— but by the time he stepped away, bewilderment— or maybe offense— had her standing tall. His words and all their implications felt like a tornado inside her head. She was silent for a moment, watching the large white male returning to the woods where he'd appeared just moments before. Had she asked the wrong question, or was this guy just an asshole? Maybe both? Volkan stared after him, left to the gentle gurgle of the creek that underscored her thoughts.

Oak Tree Bend. That was definitely another name she'd never heard before. Borlla Tainn was a name she did know: from Swift River, back in those days. Volkan hadn't talked to her much, but she was pretty sure they were around the same age. As for brothers, Borlla had about 50 brothers, the achromic female knew; she somehow doubted this white douchebag "didn't know" their names, and realizing that stirred a fire in her. Her pale eyes quickly mapped a line through the trees in the direction he'd indicated— south, apparently— but she found herself looking at his retreating form again as something volatile stirred in her chest. So that was it, huh? That was all the help this guy was going to offer?

South. Vaguely... south. How far south was he talking? An hour's travel? Thirty days? Was Volkan going to die of starvation before she got there? She guessed she could just start moving and hope for the best, but— this guy. The farther away he moved through the trees, the thicker her frustration brewed, until she found herself calling after him, still standing there by the creek with a cocked head and a dark gaze. Much like her howl, her voice echoed in the quiet of the wood. The message of her tone, a thanks a lot soaked in sarcasm, couldn't have been clearer— and fuck the consequences.

"To whom do I owe the pleasure?"

(This post was last modified: Apr 07, 2014, 09:31 PM by Volkan.)

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Sorry for the wait, bebe. <3

Before he could fully blend in to the trees that sheltered his home, her voice sounded between the two of them – her tone dripping with a sarcasm that made it impossible to miss the coldness that underlined it. Bemusement would have flashed across his features at that moment had he not contained it, and casting a glance back, he noted how tall the darker she-wolf stood now. He did not move for a moment, simply taking in the very moment to which he stood – she was a feisty creature, that could not be denied. In some form, she reminded him of his mate in that very nature, and he began to idly wonder if this was a Tainn trait.. and something that rubbed off on the connections they had.

With a low grunt to himself, the pale beast turned, maneuvering back only a few paces as he re-emerged from the threes. His wolfish brows lifted quizzically upon his features, as if questioning why she still stood there, and why his name mattered. Sorry, he drawled then, the tone dripping from his jaws with an equal coldness and sarcasm that could match her own. You can tell them Phineas of Magnolia Glen sends his warmest regards, then. There was a small pause then as he allowed the information to sink in – she had his name now, was that all she required? If she decided she would continue the conversation upon her terms, she would be sorely mistaken. He did not take well to demands of lone wolves so very close to his border, and with that spoken, the male once more turned, this time, leaving the she-wolf behind.

(This post was last modified: May 31, 2014, 03:03 PM by Phineas.)