Drooping Willows I needed something of yours

...to keep me company.

September 27th; Late afternoon; Partly Cloudy — 44° F/7° C; at the border of Willow Ridge...

Rook wished that he hadn't been so reclusive, so elusive, so evasive... but since meeting Titan, Nios, and Beren, he had needed some time to think. He sought out near-constant solitude to pray; though, at this point in time, the answers to his prayers were slow-coming and his patience was, for once, was starting to wear thin. It was time, he decided, to stop sitting around and going about his typical routines and do something - like actually searching for company or the companions he specifically yearned to see and spend time with. Anything to somehow find himself beside them, to know for sure that his smiles were because of them... Namid and Bishop, of course, were his constant joy, their every peal of laughter and tail wag, but, today... Today, he had thought to look for Beren, but when his short trek to the north didn't particularly strike his fancy, he headed to the east until the scent of willow trees came to his senses and struck him with the realization that he had wandered to the edges of the map of Relic Lore that he had had in his mind.

He tread lightly across the fading grasses, with his ears perked up and plume-like tail held level. Only when he broke through the tree line did a startling discovery hit him. A pack. Ruled by both a prominent female and her mate... Willow Ridge. Rook immediately turned around and headed back into the open air, lifting his head and muzzle to sample the air and the scents it held. It didn't smell of anything he could particularly recognize, but something was strangely familiar about it. It made his face distort with bewilderment. He might have heard of his Uncle Angier, but nothing could certainly hint to the young Lyall that his extended family had, indeed, still held prominence within the Lore.

The yearling's ear twitched and he thought he could have heard someone nearby. Just in case, he spun around, everything about his stance and body language hinting that he was expecting someone. Anyone...

(This post was last modified: Oct 02, 2014, 10:50 PM by Rook.)

Chances are I have a BEN WHISHAW gif for that.

There were things about the chill in the air that she didn't like. In a way, the coming fall and the fact that winter was right behind it reminded her of just how cold the last season of snow had been. And not just cold in the sense that it chilled her bones, but cold like many of the looks she'd seen in the eyes of her sister and cold like the way the den they had shared after losing it all had felt in the absence of the rest of her family. She didn't like it at all, but still there was a certain beauty in the way the land had begun to wither without the warmth of a summer sun.

Quil had kept to herself since arriving on the Willow Ridge scene. Where she yearned to get to know her new pack mates in general as well as get to know them better, she just wasn't that settled in yet. She spent the nights beneath the open sky in whatever space felt right at the time, finding that there was more comfort in the stars overhead than there would be in a den full of strangers. And she knew that her brother was here, somewhere, but she'd yet to come across him or even a fresh scent left by him. In some ways she felt like she wasn't ready to see him again, not yet. The knowledge of his existence here, handed down by Elettra, had been a shock in what had been a relatively peaceful place in her life. What if he knew more of their family than she did? What if he knew that they were still alive, or, worse, if they really had perished. Drawing in a long, steady-hearted breath, she exhaled her worries into the wind.

Beneath a sea of silver-lined clouds, the silvered girl perused her way along the borders without looking for much in particular. If she was lucky, perhaps she'd come across a hare or something else she could hunt down and return to her leaders or the children, but as the afternoon began to draw to a close, there was no sound but the wind.

For a time.

A not-so-distant rustle captured her attention and she froze in place, her rounded, dark ears pressing with interest in the direction from which she thought she'd heard it. The girl's sides rose and fell with her breath as her bright eyes scanned the horizons, near and far. At her back, the sound of the willows' branches dancing in the wind was like an earthly signal to step forward, and so she did. The ground beneath her feet sank a little beneath her weight, and with an investigatory and curious look about her she lifted her head to get a better look at something she considered for a moment might not really be there.

"Hello?"

The yearling had thought to make himself scarce, to turn around and never return to this particular part of Drooping Willows ever again. For all he knew, the whole of the forest could have belonged to these particular wolves, and he was not willing to find out what would become of him if someone happened to spot him so close to their home. After his sudden encounter with his sister Taima, he was not even counting on having an event like that repeating again. Bishop would have his head if she ever found out about that...

Heavy paws drew him away, but only after a few steps, it would seem that someone had caught sight of him at last. "Hello?" a voice called out. Rook's teeth ground together and he slowly turned in the direction from where the singular greeting had come from. It was a girl, but her tone was nothing like Bishop's or Namid's or even Taima's; why he was grimacing he wished he knew. As best as he could, he wiped his expression off his face and ducked under one of the large, umbrella-like trees, his curiosity beginning to get the best of him.

"Hellooo?" he called back to her in a partial howl. A brief glance over his shoulder and he thought he had seen a flash of dark, almost-black fur. His whiskered brows rose and he turned around. His tail waved about behind him in a wag that expressed both his delight to have company and his foolish delight to have company at last. He tried again in a more amiable tone, "Hello?"

Chances are I have a BEN WHISHAW gif for that.

Moments passed and a tide of wind blew through her fur and across her skin. Her nose crinkled and twitched, searching for some scent she could attribute to what she knew she'd heard, the sound of someone. When a voice did break across the air, it was unfamiliar and unmistakably boyish, and with a piqued curiosity she perked up. But she didn't move. No, she didn't take a single step; for whatever reason she felt a tinge of nervousness creep upon her. By no means was Quil shy or lacking necessary and appropriate social skills. In fact, having been raised (for an ever-regretable short time) in a rather large family, she was pretty good at making a good first impression, if this encounter were to be the first. But she hadn't associated with, well, anyone since her return to the Lore, and maybe she would slip up or say the wrong thing. Or run whoever was out there off, or maybe they would leave her there like everyone else always seemed to do. For a split second, she imagined the owner of the voice to be her brother...Wishful thinking, perhaps.

However, the figure that appeared to her, tawny and cream, a large speck among the swaying greens and browns of the grass, was not Rowan. She swallowed the disappointment and any expectations she'd held, standing her ground in her own quiet and respectful way.

To her small delight, the boy's tail wagged behind him─a friendly or at least a neutral gesture─and without actually thinking anything else about that, her own mirrored his movement. Sweeping across the hocks of her tall, slender legs, the sway of her dark tail was her unspoken invitation to the stranger. "Hello," she echoed, as soft-spoken as a girl of her circumstance should speak. Her golden eyes looked him over harmlessly, from the tip of his ears to the curves of his ankles. "─Hey...over here." Casting a quick glance over her shoulder as if to make sure no one was looking, or to make sure, as silly as it was, that she wasn't going to catch hell for venturing out to do something she thought she wanted to, she made her way closer.

(This post was last modified: Oct 03, 2014, 05:06 AM by Quil.)

Rook might have been a decent tracker and an observant sort of soul, but with the wind picking up every now and then and a set of eyes that were not particularly trained in tracking movement between narrow spaces - like those between the willow trees and the branches they boasted - he had easily missed her. It wasn't until she called out to him did he finally catch sight of her. He poked his head out from behind the veil of willow branches, smiling openly at her now. "Hi," he greeted, watching as she came closer. His voice quieted, "I, uhh... I, um..."

Momentarily at a loss for words, he curled his tongue over itself if only keep himself from sounding more like a nitwit. She seemed friendly; her voice, even upon first impression, seemed to welcome his company. He only hoped she still thought of him was agreeable with being so close to the willows. "I was looking for someone," he lent once he had recovered his derailed train of thought. He supposed stumbling into the likes of her had caught him by surprise.

Just as she had done, he looked her over, merely assessing her - age, size, the color of her eyes, the shape of her face, and any defining, characteristic trademarks that might help him recognize her if they ever had the chance to meet again. His tail lilting again from side to side. "I didn't mean to trespass if I have; and, for that, I apologize. I just... Would you happen to know someone named Beren, by chance? Or maybe Titan, perhaps?" Something in his eyes tried to signal to her that he had set his hopes a bit too high for his comfort, and he wondered what his chances of being reunited with them were if this girl happened to know them. "They're friends of mine. I... haven't seen them for a while."

Chances are I have a BEN WHISHAW gif for that.

When the boy did finally catch sight of her, a humble grin swept momentarily across her lips. As his head poked what she perceived to be curiously out from the thin tendrils of willow branches, her first impression was that maybe he seemed nice enough. Her wide and thoughtful eyes hesitated on the shape of his smile as he fumbled at first with his words. "I, uhh...I, um..." She didn't have to wait long, and eventually the tawny boy came out with his reason for being here along the Ridge's borders; it was then that she remembered that she was no longer a loner, but that she was one of them, and in that way responsible for keeping out any riff-raff that came along.

But he didn't seem like riff-raff. Not at all, really. And in fact he seemed like he could be much like her. The pair appeared to be about the same age, and as he drew closer she caught the scent of pack that hung on his fur. It wasn't her pack, and collectively it wasn't one she'd encountered before. She didn't wonder about this, and in a way she didn't really care. What was more important to her was the fact that he was looking for someone, or a number of someones, and that maybe she could help him out.

The late afternoon sun that managed to shine from behind the veil of the clouds above capered across her face, its warmth soaked up by every inch of her as she heard him out─first, an apology, then his reference to two individuals that she actually didn't know. Her tail flicked at her hocks. "I, um," the words escaped in a quiet breath as she noted the distinct coloration of his mismatched eyes. "I'm actually new here, so I can't say I've heard of 'em. Or met them..." She shifted her weight. "I could relay the message along," she offered as an afterthought.

"I'm Quil."

The thick grasses that blanketed the floor of the Drooping Willow served him well and, while it seemed that Quil might have been well aware of his presence (he had caught her casting her gaze over her shoulders), the dark-coated prince pursued her. To his delight, she had found someone. After a string of "Hello"'s and a bit of conversation - about trespassing, searching for certain somebodies (one of whom Sköll was rather indifferent toward), and an introduction - the Archer had had enough of just standing by and peering through the verdant curtains that visibly shielded him from view. He strutted forward, his tail angled upward as he drew close to Quil.

"And, you are not welcome," he clearly stated, adding venom to what had once been her warm salutation. He sneered in such a way that kept his lips in a hard line but allowed for his eye teeth to poke out from underneath his white upper lip. A derisive snort told of Sköll's lack of interest in the masked yearling's presence and physique. Even Rook's dual-colored irises failed to impress or fish for comment. Sköll looked over Quil next before returning his gaze over to the rogue. He might not have looked like riff-raff to her but to the Archer this fellow was someone definitely inferior, especially with the sort of accent he had in his quiet tone.

Wimp, he silently labeled, his muzzle wrinkling briefly to flash his teeth. Not waiting to see if he had finally unsettled the other boy, Sköll turned his attention back to Quil. "Our borders are well-marked," he told her, his voice both attempting to lure her to him and gently reprimand her at once. "He --" The familiar scent of Whisper Caverns wafted his way, but the royal still continued, improvising as he went, "--might be an ally of ours, but he should have called for us first. Only an idiot would come this close and apologize for almost trespassing."

i'm a dreamer, i'm a man

i'm doing whatever i can to make the bad things go away

She didn't know Beren or Titan; and, while the admission might have dampened his spirits a bit, she was kind enough to tell him that she would relay the fact that someone, him, had been looking for them if she ever saw them. "Thank you," he replied, slowly emerging now from behind the willow branches. "That really means a lot." She gave him her name but, before Rook could even open his mouth, someone else had arrived and he was not the welcoming sort, like Quil, at all...

He told Rook directly that he was not welcome and the Lyall took a step back before steeling himself. A quick analysis of the other male's pelt told him that he was affiliated with Quil by some degree (their coats both smelled of the surrounding forest) and that he was quite possibly Quil's suitor, being an age-mate and all. Inwardly, Rook winced, but on the outside, he merely quirked a brow, listening as the midnight-coated fellow now spoke only to her. He was out of place, that much was for sure, though it did not keep him from thinking what he would like and standing his ground.

"I beg your pardon," he called out. "Call me what you'd like but I am no idiot; had I known there was a protocol in place, I would have followed it. I was just looking for someone and happened to stumble into your neck of the woods. An honest mistake." Tactfully, he added in attempt to give Quil a one-up over the snob, "I meant no harm. If I had, she would have chased me off already."

Chances are I have a BEN WHISHAW gif for that.

To the tawny boy's thanks, she gave a silent and reassuring nod ─ a your welcome. So he was nice; at this point she couldn't really think anything else of him, as they had only talked for all of ten seconds. But she did see something about him that was as inviting as she hoped her own words and mannerisms had been aimed. She was...she liked the kindness about him. But nearly just as soon as she figured he would give his own name, the sound of footsteps and a voice much sharper than her stranger-companion's broke through the air like a knife. "And, you are not welcome." In this moment and as she turned to see the approaching prince, she was reminded immediately of Asriel. She'd once had an affinity for the boy who had disappeared, and looking at someone she presumed to be his brother (granted Skoll's likeness to both Asriel and Elettra), there was no difficulty in drawing a parallel between the black-furred boy's identity and the reasoning behind his abrupt unwelcoming. Truth be told, his rejection of the kinder boy made her gut twist, though outwardly she showed no signs of it.

But her eyes did at once cast back to the nameless, agouti-furred boy before her. They were wide with surprise and what she hoped he would see as her silent apology for Skoll's rejection. In their golden depths, there was the (strangest) most subtle plead: don't go, but you should. But Quil knew her place, and it was here at Willow Ridge and below the prince in rank. As Skoll drew nearer, imparting his gentle reprimand to her, she perked up a little, to show him that she could take his direction without having her feelings hurt or anything of the sort. She truly was very strong, and she knew that quality was important here and to her pack mates. She might have gone on to speak her understanding of Skoll's explanation, but that opportunity was quickly out the window when the boys began to exchange their blows of sorts. Oh boy.

She didn't understand what made her want to, but she wanted to take the lighter boy's side, wanted to stand by his side and have his back. To tell Skoll that he really didn't mean any harm and that he was nice, but...She couldn't. She didn't move an inch. Instead, she kept her posture, gazes, and overall demeanor as neutral as possible. At the moment, she felt (and kind of was) just a bystander to what was to unfold.

As expected, the paler yearling called him out, "I beg your pardon. Call me what you'd like but I am no idiot--" Blah, blah, blah... What had Sköll's attention and rendered him utterly intrigued was how Quil reacted. She might have looked at the outsider with a look a surprise, shock, and probably disbelief over the scenario that was now unfolding between the three of them. Yet, even as Rook tried to give her a place to partake in their exchange, she kept quiet. She didn't even move or express much emotion at all.

The prince's gaze flickered to the side, casting the Lyall a look from the corner of his eye before looking into the side of Quil's face. Obviously the pair had not known one another prior to this encounter; otherwise, she would not have offered her name. This tidbit alone allowed Sköll to move on to his next course of action and suggestion. "It's okay," he murmured to her, cooing a bit of spiteful encouragement into her sable-furred ear. "He's probably one of Yuka's cousins or friends or something. You can tell him... Tell him he isn't allowed this close to the Ridge."

His tone might have been a bit too cold against the eardrums, but the way the young Archer saw it, he was instilling some courage into his newfound companion and peer. "We Willow Ridge wolves are nothing less than proud and outspoken," he whispered, regardless of whether Rook could hear him or not. "Go on..."

(This post was last modified: Oct 06, 2014, 10:36 PM by Skoll.)

i'm a dreamer, i'm a man

i'm doing whatever i can to make the bad things go away