Jasper Rocks {M} houdini's water torture cell

Trigger Warning: depression, (suggestive) suicide by drowning. Sorry, I got a bit dark here... :C Don't worry, it's more for character development than a little vent, and I'm fine. <3

October 12th; Morning, nearly sunrise; Patchy rain; 42° F/6° C

Taima was going to do something stupid; she knew it, but she had taken to heart all the consequences and every possible fallout and had made up her mind. The feeling shocked her joints, made her feel lightheaded, made every vein in her body tingle as though she were standing on very sharp pins that dug into each of the worn pads on her feet. The rainclouds swirled above her, and yet no silver lining of any kind could be found. She trembled as she wandered where she knew a favorite haunt to be nearby. The place where her brothers had been laid to rest, the sanctuary just beyond Grizzly Hollow where her father had once gone to seek a place of solitude and reflection - where the small pools near the shallows took their visitors by surprise when the current ran too swift. Taima would know; it had happened to her eldest brother, Prosper, and if he had not been so enticed by the rapids of Jasper Rocks and the Swift River, he might have been around for her to seek support from.

As she let her paws touch the water's edge, she thought back to the fleeting events of that morning, how she had stopped by the den just to get a good look at it and say a silent 'thank you' to what remained of her family and how she had softly kissed the crown of Octavius' head as he slept. In Elettra and Angier's care, the boy - her only son - would be fine, or so she hoped and believed. He, at least, had family to care for him; very much unlike her when she had to endure her yearling months with a mentor and a couple of intimidating Leaders to look up to and strictly guide her into who she was today... which, in her mind, had not amounted to very much. The least she wanted was for Octavius to remember her as a terrible mother, even if she had loved him more than she could have ever thought was possible. It was just too hard for her to enjoy him when his smiles, especially when they touched his eyes, reminded her so much of Datura, his absent father.

This depression, this feeling of being worthless, had plagued her since she had met Elettra on the borders. Even when her uncle had given her his blessing and assurance, it had not been enough to keep the numbness away. Perhaps if Borden or Jaysyek had been the ones to tell her those very words, she might have felt something... found something worth memorizing to keep the waking nightmares and upsetting memories away. To know for sure that she was worth so much more than she believed and deserved everything good that life within Relic Lore and the rest of the world had to offer.

She closed her eyes as she tried to remember her mother's face when she smiled, her father's rumbling voice whenever Taima had been scared of the summer thunderstorms in the middle of the night, the way her brothers always told her that she was not allowed to play with them but she always got her way, how her sisters Trisden and Calla had given her something to strive for - audacity and confidence and a sense of pride. Her head tilted upward, welcoming the coolness of the rain to seep into the fur on her face.

Then, with the grace of swan, she slowly lifted her right arm and moved forward to submerge her forepaw in the chilled water. Not too long after, she placed the other beside it; then, the next thing she knew, she was in the water up to her shoulders to the point where she was actually still trying to keep her head above the surface. Her breaths came in ragged pants as she paddled to tread in place.

This was it. It was now or never.

The magician's daughter took one last breath, then stopped moving all together, looking up to the gray sky one more time before slowly sinking to the bottom of the river.

...Abracadabra.

He wasn't supposed to be in the forest.

Narime and Ash had made this very clear at the meeting, and yet here the swarthy crow was, his limbs striding in longer lengths to gain more coverage of the woods. He was not looking for anything in particular.. but he had moved throughout the various trees with ease, as if seeking information to which he could take back. That would not stop the Whisper Caverns scent from lingering among the trees his pelt would brush up against every so often, but he was not here to cause harm, and kept a wide berth of the pack that had decided to keep the Cavern wolves from the entire forest.

The sound fo rushing water lured him forward -- his bright eyes falling upon the rapid current as his throat seemed to protest how dry it was. As the beast would move forward, the rustle of another movement caught his attention, causing his eyes to snap in the direction. She was graceful -- a coat of such pale tawny that she could have been mistaken for a silver or white. He cursed under his breath in that moment, realizing she was likely of the Cut Rock River pack -- his presence here would do no good for his own pack, and as she began to slip gingerly into the swift waters, he made to turn, to make an escape before he could be seen.. and then only the wind would be able to tell her of his presence.

But there was something disturbing about the female. She continued to go forward.. as if lulled by something in the waters depths. His tongue smoothed over his lips in quiet and nervous contemplation.. what was she doing? Her head now only bobbed above the surface.. and then she went under.

It happened suddenly, and despite the turmoil it would place his own comrades, the stocky male bounded forward, his paws splashing in to the water as he bounded out in the direction he had last seen her. "Shit," he cursed, his yellow eyes gleaming as they scoured the surface. He swam now, having moved so deep in.. and taking the best guess he could, Nios Tainn went after the damsel in distress -- and in the same motion, went back in his promise to Narime Lagina.

(This post was last modified: Oct 17, 2014, 06:09 PM by Nios.)

'cause its home, but it's gone

When she had pushed off from the ledge that was the end of the shallows on either side of the river, Taima had expected to be further enough into the middle of the river as to be irretrievable. The water rumbled and crashed in her ears; she might as well have been dead to the world in more than the typical figurative and metaphorical sense. She should have heard the splash behind her, the beating of swarthy paws as they cut through the water with a swimmer's stroke. She had been under for no more than 20 or so seconds and had been fully committed to releasing that last bit of oxygen she had captive within her lungs when something stronger than the current snatched at her. Bubbles released from her nostrils and the lining of her lips and, in shock, she opened her eyes. She could feel the force keep its hold on the ruff of her neck; as much as she wanted to struggle, to accept her fate in the darkest reaches of the river just as Prosper had in her young and vivid imagination, she found that should couldn't.

Her nose was the first to break the surface then the rest of her muzzle and finally her head as she inhaled and coughed, the innate sense of survival forcing her to fill her chest with as much air as was mortally possible. She felt her right shoulder and side hit and graze the familiar grittiness of the riverbed just a few feet out from the bank. Laying in the shallows, she shook, her ivory chin just barely clearing the water as she curled up into a ball. The rain had not let up and the clouds still remained overhead, yet... there was a shadow lurking over her. Kade, she had wanted to believe. Her eyes closed and her saturated ears quivered against her neck.

After her encounter with that kid near her old home, she still had the sense to remind herself of all that had happened from then up until this very moment.

Her name was Taima Lyall, Jaysyek and Borden's daughter. Datur-- A shiver made her jerk, -Octavius' mother. She was apart of Willow Ridge and her Uncle was still willing looking out for her. Grizzly Hollow was gone, and Kade Attaya could not have been the one to have pulled her from her grave.

A simple and stupid whine left her throat, an apology of sorts as she finally opened her eyes to look up to her rescuer. A dark knight, maybe, but he was no Kade. With angling her head, she tried to look at his eyes, to discern their color and, therefore, any semblance of familiarity in them. The remnants of her old self instructed her to be cross with him, but she soon came to realize that she couldn't. She could only be upset with herself.

She forced water from her throat and the back of her nostrils with a cough. "You shouldn't have done that," she criticized him, frowning now as though the expression itself would darken the pattern around her face and make her something - a formidable force likened to that of her memory of her father and his trusted Second - that she clearly was not. She was reduced to sniveling now, knowing all too well that her front was weak at best and that the blame of her revival ought to be pinned on someone, "Why'd you do that?!"

His jaws had grasped her, as gently as he could, and yet with a fierce protection he had never known for a stranger before. The moments were a blur since the time his paws hit the bank and to now, where she lay before him. It was these quiet moments he took a careful look at her – perhaps insight to a stranger that revealed far more than any simple greeting ever could. She was drenched – the silver of her fur clinging to a lissome body that offered her age to be youthful, much like his. She was a myriad of colors – grey, creams, brown and black. The curve of her neck was just so, and she looked so peaceful in that moment that he worried he had taken too long – that she was dead.

Nios made to move above her, his gleaming yellow eyes haunted with concern as his nose descended to gingerly touch her cheek. It was reflex and surprise that jerked him back as she seemingly awoke, her pale eyes flickering up to glance at him. She was fragile, broken.. confused. And she was beautiful.

But the role of a hero was not one he would play for long, and as quickly as he was relieved that she was alive, it was just as quick that he realized he might have made a terrible mistake. The storm that shrouded her face stirred his own eyebrows to knit together, and as her cold words blew over him, he could barely contain the surprise that flashed within them. As if stricken physically, Nios took a pace back, giving the she-wolf room as he stared at her incredulously. “Because you would have died!”

'cause its home, but it's gone

Taima might have wanted to depart from this life, but if she had been pulled away from such an option, she was certain that she would have wanted to come back with everything intact; and, apparently her sharp tongue still remained and her bitterness survived. He countered her with a rather obvious answer, but it made the Lyall do nothing more than to resent herself. He stepped away from her and she gave her head a brief shake, dislodging some water from both of her russet-tinged ears. Two coughs rasped in her throat and a sharp snort made certain that the river water no longer threatened the vital parts of her.

She exhaled slowly, eyes narrowed in cub-like petulance. "There's nothing left to live for," she mumbled, feeling now as if the fire within her had been the only thing to succumb to the coldness of the watery depths. "I have nothing left." Her ears dared to come up on her silvery crown but it would seem that even the softest touch of the falling rain forced them back down. As carefully as she could, she lifted herself into a hunched sitting position with her eyes focused on the rippling water before her. "My family left me, my younger brother probably hates me, my older brothers are dead, my son doesn't deserve me, and my pack is no longer here," she snuffled. "You should've just let me join Theo and Prosper. Goodness knows my father visited them often; if I had gone, he probably would have come back for me... and now you've robbed me of that."

A frown marred the drenched fur around her face, the raindrops sliding down her slick fur and muzzle before joining the shallows. She slowly turned her head to regard him, probably standing there, a silhouette of a man whose golden eyes burned bright against everything that had turned gray in the storm. "Who are you anyway?" her tone seemed to have finally rounded out and curiosity and disbelief in her eyes helped wash the spite away. There was no accusation or malice to her voice, but the need for these answers were apparent in the way she pointedly stared. "And what are you doing here?"

(This post was last modified: Nov 04, 2014, 07:00 AM by Taima.)

For a creature that in that stolen moment seemed so fragile, rustic and beautiful at once, it seemed he had missed the devil horns that lingered at the surface. He had not expected the spit of words – nor the devastating tales she wove before him.. and more importantly, he had not expected the accusation she gave him for saving her life. His white-peppered jaws opened to argue she did indeed have something to live for – her son, as she had so spoken of, but clipped shut with a tight snap as she heatedly told him he had robbed her a visit to her father.

Perplexed, dumbfounded, and finding himself slowly aggravated, the swarthy male stared incredulously at the she-wolf as she then cast him a curious look, as if now only truly seeing someone standing before her. “Nios Tainn,” he finally offered, his tone tight with the tautness of his muscles now. “Apparently, I’m here to ruin your life,” he flatly spoke, no longer finding himself tempted to roam closer to her and graze his muzzle along the length of her plush soft cheek. His eyes strayed from her momentarily, curious if she was of this Cut Rock River pack his leaders had placed venomous accusations of – she certainly fit their description of what he would deem as an unstable pack.

But she did not smell of the cedar trees, and while a curiosity swelled in him – she was a beautiful creature, after all, and he was but a young male who lived by the testosterone that flowed through him at times – he asked her no further questions. He wanted to believe he was perfectly content to leave her broken upon the forest floor – perhaps allow her another chance to seek her watery grave. But he was not. And it frustrated him. “Can I walk you home?”

'cause its home, but it's gone