Wolf RPG

she is dancing.
her form shifts and settles like ash in the wind, whirling and swaying. she dances on the ledge, paws falling once, twice, near the edge. her eyes are closed. it is an odd little ritual, and beyond the peak the sky is overcast and threatening. there is a place in the horizon where sky and earth grow muddled; rain is approaching.

the sky's tension weave's its fingers in betwixt her pelt and twist and pull, the movement is cathartic. yet her face is serene and still, and down the rock she moves. steps become less flowery and more purposeful, and the slip of a woman as moving up the rockface. her eyes are open, and she moves carefully as she searches for her nook, which surely must be near.

Assuming she's already been recruited by NSV?

Grezig had not witnessed the woman’s strange dance, had come into the scene after it had ended. She stopped and assessed the female from some distance away, noting the tiny figure, the muted colors. The wind changed direction and brought with it the woman’s scent. There were familiar scents there too. Another recruit? So many…

Grezig chuffed, but stayed where she was, not willing yet to make the climb up to meet her. “Hail,” she called, tail wagging a bit behind her to show that she was friendly. She wondered who had recruited this wisp of a canine. She looked even smaller than Elixir.

and then she is sliding, falling, into submission and docility. she turns and at once is she the picture of perfect meekness, ears drawn back and head low, gaze falling on the woman's chest as her plume wraps tightly around her hind. she peered down at the stranger, low against the rock, calling back a soft, "hello." she is still, silent, until she can draw conclusions about just how much of her submission she can unravel, strip away.

The newcomer was not very talkative. This was fine with Grezig, who had only recently become more talkative herself. “I am Grezig,” she said, dipping her head in greeting. “When did you join our group?”

It was strange, conversing like this. A few months ago, one would have gotten only grunts and nods out of her. Now, she spoke almost as much as she used her body language. She supposed she was simply adapting to the group. Back home, when she had been growing up, hardly anyone had spoken unless it was absolutely necessary. But here, everyone spoke all the time. Very strange.

the rules she's learned are simple. one of them; do not answer questions that have not been asked. she remains tightly furled on herself, utterly compliant - as if the woman must merely gesture to the ridge's edge to have her soar down the edge, and tumble down to splatter in a mess of mist and crimson against the rocks. "two days ago."

her mind is wandering, skipping and scattering. she wonders if the blood would finally bring warmth to her pelt, or only highlight just how bleached of warmth she'd been in life. the thought drifts and dissipates, and her gaze falls entirely to the rocks before her.

The young mutt (for Grezig was sure that this girl could not possibly be fully-wolf, due to her tiny size and coyote-like features) answered her question, and said nothing more. Grezig continued standing, looking up at her. Perhaps the girl was like her and did not like speaking so much as body language. Even so, Grezig wanted more information, if for no other reason than to satisfy her own curiosity. “Who recruited you?” she asked, sitting down to show the girl that she was here for the long haul. She sniffed the air but could not pick out one particular scent. There was something, someone, but she hadn’t been around them long enough yet to pick out who it was (Barracuda).

Closing this. Feel free to make a new thread for them in BDP! Or hmu if you want me to make it!

But the woman, it seemed, did not have much to say. Grezig grunted at her silence and turned away, not really caring. She would talk to her another day, perhaps.

[Exit.]

Quail

RIP Grezig

Quail

RIP Grezig

Quail

RIP Grezig