Swift River if i am lost it's only for a little while

I figure since it's being nasty outside IRL for me, hey, why not here too! Plus Damascus could use some bonding with his pack, ha.
<blockquote><font style='margin-left:20px;'>The wind outside of the spacious main den howled and threatened to curl inside from time to time, leaving Damascus grateful that he had sought refuge when he had. The heavy snow hadn't been so bad, really, but once the wind had started to pick up he had gotten the inkling of an urge that things were liable to be a little more than frosty. Sprawled out on the cool dirt floor, he hadn't ventured too far inside to seek anyone else out. Things had been so quiet within the den that in the early morning light, Damascus wasn't so sure that anyone was actually inside of it. But he assumed that they all had their dens somewhere, whether it was branching off from the network of age-old tunnels or somewhere else within the Sacred Grove belonging to Swift River.</font>

<font style='margin-left:20px;'>Nevertheless, the nomad sighed contentedly to himself, letting his eyelids droop shut over his brown eyes momentarily. He could hear the snow as it was forcefully pressed against the trees, and even the trees themselves creaked and groaned with every gust. He was no weatherman, he couldn't have claimed when the storm would end, but his bones said it would only be soon. Those storms didn't last very long, not with that much gusto. He wished he could have compared it to a prior winter, but nothing really came to mind. Every winter so far for him had been vastly different, just as every location he had lived through the season in had been vastly different. So at best, this was simply just another taste of life in Relic Lore for him -- a questionable one at best, but one that played to his considerations of staying or leaving once the season changed.</font></blockquote>

Gone Tomorrow

The bitter cold chilled her to the bone, despite her thick coat which had long since grown out to protect her from the arctic winds that swept over the land throughout the winter season. All about the gray she-wolf, the winds picked up the snow that was underfoot, while the clouds dumped thousands of flurries atop the heads of the Relic Lore residents. For all of her watching of the sky, she had been quiet oblivious to the coming of this storm, and it had sprung upon her without too much warning at all. Or maybe she had just been occupied. Corinna was still new to the Swift River territory after all, and she had wanted to spend her time out and about exploring the terrain. She had covered other parts of Relic Lore thoroughly, she saw no reason why what was now her home should be treated any differently.

The storm presented a problem though. On unfamiliar territory, she was at a disadvantage. The powerful winds were stirring up the snow, limiting her visibility. All around her were foreign scents and landmarks, making it incredibly difficult for her to pinpoint a single location. At this point, Cori was only looking for a place of refuge to wait out the storm. Ideally, she would have liked to have bundled up inside the pack den, but because of the rank challenge that had broken out during her acceptance into the pack, she had not been shown where that was, and her wandering had kept her towards the outskirts of the territory.

It was by chance that she stumbled upon the pile of rocks alongside the river. She had been following the bank, always keeping it on her left so as to not lose her way. The trees could only offer minimal protection, though their thick trunks served well as windshields. But she needed protection from the snow, and that sort of protection was few and far between. Risking to stray from the river banks, she headed away from it, only a few yards, stopping short when the boulders became momentarily visible in the storm. Squinting she peered through the snow flurries. Was that an entrance? Edging closer, she was spurned on both by her curiosity and her desire to get out of the elements. "Hello?" She called out, praying that the shadow she was was in fact the entrance to a suitable shelter.

Yay, thanks for joining! :D

He lazed easily, resting his muzzle on top of his slender legs. His stomach dared to growl, but Damascus he knew would simply have to be hungry for just a little bit — the snow couldn't have lasted forever. It would let up, and he would either hunt or track down one of the caches in the pack and dig it up. And if that didn't work, well… then he would be hungry. It wouldn't be the first time or the last time, though he was tempted to drift off dreaming about something tasty. But the wayward nomad knew better and instead shifted his thoughts to the past.

But it was fleeting; someone's voice reached his ears through the howling wind. It was faint and could have been far off, but he opened his eyes. He waited a few moments, but heard nothing else. So maybe it had been the wind, but being the curious soul that he was (or maybe it was kind), Damascus rose to his feet easily and gave his coat a shake, and peered out of the den. “Hello?” he called out, though he couldn't quite see what was out there. Something of a shape, a smudged mess of colours against the fury of falling snow.

Of course! Though I'm terribly sorry about the delay; busy week, this one. =)

Gone Tomorrow

Day or night did not matter to her vision, she could see adequately in both conditions. However, a raging snowstorm like this one was not the same as day or night. Her vision was practically nothing now, and the longer she stayed out in the storm, the more she began to worry. In a familiar territory, Cori wouldn't have minded so much, but she was still a stranger to the Swift River lands, and she knew that her chances of getting lost, and therefor injured, were significantly increased. The shadow in the rocks was her closest hope. If it was in fact just an illusion, she would simply curl up where she was, and ride the storm out and dig herself out when it was over.

But luck was seemingly still on her side, and over the wind, she thought she could hear a deeper voice answer her. Or, not really an answer, but more of an echo. Neither was sure of each others' presence, but Cori was growing anxious. Straining her senses, she tried to put a face to the voice, for she was fairly certain that she had heard it. But she came up empty. Whoever this creature was, he was a stranger to her. Slowly, she took a few steps forward, numb to the wind now as she was so focused on her task. Gradually she got closer and closer to the rocks, and she began to make out a more definite shape amidst the shadows. So it was an entrance after all. "Can I come in?" she called out, hoping that whatever wolf this was that had first found the shelter would be kind enough to share.

No worries! I'm busy too, so I know how it goes. :3 And who knows who told him this was the pack den, but I'm gonna say somebody did, haha.

At the sound of his voice, the younger wolf came towards him, and much to his relief. Had she bolted from the spot he would have been torn on what to do; no one should have been out in the storm. The most foolhardy and perhaps far northern-living wolves would have been used to such nonsense, but not Damascus. When the weather became so bad that things were like a white-out, he holed up, being from places where plains and meadows ruled over river valleys and mountains.

“Of course,” he called out to her, waiting for her to draw just near enough that he could step back to invite her in properly. “I was told that this den is for all of us in Swift River, so you're very welcome here.” With that much, he disappeared entirely into the dimly lit cavern, and shook what snow clung to him off as he did. Whatever lucubration had gone into the den was unknown to him; it was impossible for Damascus to tell if it had been carved from the earth by wolves or by weather, or maybe a mixture of both.

Once he was satisfied with the snow being out of his ears and off of his topside, the tawny nomad settled back down where he had been, more or less giving his fellow pack mate (which he assumed she was, hoped she was) her own free will to do what she wanted. “That's better, isn't it?” he queried, not that quite in her direction either — the question may as well have been rhetorical. Calm, warm den versus cold, blowing wintry weather? Who wouldn't take the warm den?

Gone Tomorrow

Corinna waited, holding her breath. The wind pushed and shoved her, and she could feel her ruff lift up as the wind hit it. She had hoped that things would get better as the storm progressed, but that did not seem to be the case. Things were going to get worse before they got better, and she momentarily wondered if there was a chance that they'd get snowed in to the den. But she forgot that completely, as he responded, inviting her into the much needed shelter.

Darting forward like an arrow, the she-wolf clamored down onto her elbows and crawled in between the space of the rocks. Rising, she found that she could stand fairly comfortably, and she joined the stranger in shaking the snow from her coat. She nodded her head at his words. So this was the Swift River den. Good to know. "Thanks. I never got around to figuring out or being showed where this place was," she commented, peering at the space, trying to absorb everything she was taking in. The den was the heart of the pack, and it would be important for her to remember its location and layout.

Turning her attention to her pack mate, she settled down on her haunches, fixing him in her green gaze. He wasn't particular large for a male, but she was very much aware of his physical presence. She noted his tawny fur, though the dim lighting of the den was such that she couldn't make out what color his eyes were. His scent was somewhat familiar, in that she had come across his scent in her explorations around Swift River. But now she had face to match it with. "I'm Corinna Donata, by the way. I was just recently accepted, so I don't think we've had a chance to meet," she introduced herself, angling her head downwards in a respectful bow as to show her respects.