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Blackfeather Woods the green mile - Printable Version

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the green mile - Relmyna - March 17, 2018

babies are here! sorry this took all day to put up D: please let @Kove post first for a round; after that, @Astara, @Averna, & @Maegi are welcome to make an appearance <3

it was a day of lightly falling snow that found relmyna lightly panting within the confines of the abandoned whelping den. her own was too small, she knew — unknowing of how many babes she carried, the evoker had removed herself to the secluded glen earlier that morning. dawn had brought with it the first iron crush around her ribs, wringing the breath from the pale she-wolf and driving her to unsteady paws.
it was the overwhelming drive of the invasive thought you have done this before that both terrified and comforted relmyna; she felt finally the slither of fear along her spine. the gripping spasms of her tightening body began to wring hoarse cries from her throat, ones the wolfess sought to smother by pressing her lips together into a grim and trembling line.
but dignity had forsook her — during a lull, relmyna had dashed from her densite to the inviting and protected spiderlings' clutch, and there she now laid, cheek pressed to the cool dirt, her body for the moment stilled.
you have done this before
relmyna closed her eyes and drew in a breath, eyelids trembling for the moment that was to come.
the wracking grip of her agony began then, and the little priestess, who had not broken when iliksis had taken from her what he wanted, nor when ithrik had made her cry out in pain, not when blackfeather fell to ruins and cicero had left her behind — she broke then, into a sobbing keen that built into a distorted shriek.
the rock of tongues, never far, the priestess reached for and nestled shakily into the dove fur of her chest, until its churn grasped the cadence of her beating heart.
the ridge
your children
a grave

lightning forked in relmyna's consciousness as it narrowed to a point and she bore down, bringing to earth the first child, a daughter pale as a wraith, pristine against the ivory of her mother's pelt. alive, alive, alive! came the joyous young voice the woman had grown to recognize as that of her subconscious. alive. relmyna cleaned the caul from the tiny nose and mouth, lapping at the miniature waving paws and pressing her muzzle against the slick chest of the child, satisfied to hear the hummingbird heart confirm what she knew. 
you have done this before
heartened, relmyna swept the pallid infant into the crook of one thigh and lay back as her travails began again. 
blood
he is crying
your son
again the cracking pain lancing through her hips — again she brought to bear the unraveling wisps of her strength and birthed a second child. a night-dark girl, a shadow against her wintry sister. relmyna cleaned the small features, the grasping toes. with this one too she lay her ear against the strong sound of the little heart.
relmyna regarded them with an exhausted swell of pride brimming in her chest, even as her limbs dragged heavily against the earth when she curved herself around the pair. the ebbing pain of her body slowly dulled, perhaps buoyed by the richness she had consumed after each birth, and presently her ears swept forward as she contemplated their parentage. it occurred to the woman that her daughters had perhaps been sired by the reaper. he was a man relmyna had not always tolerated with vague affection. but the priestess decided it did not matter. 
what is the name of my son? the woman asked of her churning mind, sorrow stinging the edges of her vision, something she had not anticipated. her answer was the threatening hum of pain in the back of her skull. she did not ask again, settling the turquoise of her eyes on the children at her side. in time, the tears that flowed soon dried to saltwater trails along her pale cheeks.
a horrid fatigue gripped relmyna then — she lifted her muzzle with the last of her strength and crooned into the cold afternoon sky: come and see. not all would be welcome, but the evoker would turn those she did not wish away with her teeth. 
what of their names? came her last thought as she clung fast to the edge of wakefulness and slumber.
sleep now; they will be named.
relmyna curled herself more tightly around her small brood — she blinked muzzily as she held her eyes on them for a long moment, curving her plume along her flank for further cover. presently the woman's head fell back against the floor of the glen, and a deep velvet dream drank her in.



RE: the green mile - Kove - March 19, 2018

The lives within the silent one’s womb were not far from his mind. He knew of her pregnancy but not of the male that had planted those seeds within her—but it did not matter, their lineage, for a life was a life. There would be more to Blackfeather Woods, more souls that would devote themselves to the pack and, in time, the Brotherhood—but those things, so far into the future that they were, found little purchase within his head. The thoughts slipped and tumbled, retreating to the recesses of his mind with the promise of returning at a much later date. For now, he waited, until an invitation touched his ears and he could not simply wait any longer.

Into the world, there came new life.

Kove was slow, moving steadily in the direction of the glen; he saw no reason to rush, not when the new mother’s song lacked the anguish of a child lost. Time was taken, even, to rummage through a cache for the freshest thing he could find—an otter, plump and reeking of its fishy diet—a gift for the surely exhausted woman. But from there his direction was set, each moment that flitted by bringing him closer to the communal whelping den.

His entrance was not rushed as he paused just outside the mouth of the cave, staring in and letting his gaze drift until it landed on a pallid mass—there. Carefully, he entered, each step taken just as quietly as the last, worrisome over the disturbance he might create. The otter was set down near to the mute woman, close enough to be within her reach but far enough that it could not touch her, before he settled back on his haunches several steps next to her. With a sudden softness in his eyes, he watched the sleeping mass, gradually turning his gaze downwards so that he might steal a peek at the newborns; they were hidden within their mother’s embrace, the palest of the two invisible until a closer look was taken—two, he counted, but wondered if there might be more hidden beneath them.

He didn’t dare wake her to ask, recalling how drained his first wife had been so long ago by the wear of childbirth.

Content with watching the small family, he did not make any move to leave—he lingered there, quiet and watchful, until he was struck by a realisation: how could the woman without a voice name her brood? And there followed the notion that he might take the opportunity to do so in her place, though such an act was not something he could so easily commit without warning. Thus, he chuffed—it bordered between a cough and a bark—in an attempt to wake her, to be given the permission to gift her joys back to the woods through names.



RE: the green mile - Averna - March 19, 2018

She did not remember much of her life before this, but she remembered that there had been a life. She had had emotions, once, and they flooded back to her seemingly suddenly as she was once more in the form of a living creature. She was still, however, looking 'round with unseeing eyes and yet seeing all sorts of things — colours, auras. Touch provided there was one sibling that she could find, and one safe haven underneath which she could crawl and huddle up to. Many thoughts flit through her mind, remnants of an old life, remnants of what had once been, but by the minute that she was once more on this plane of feeling and being these thoughts departed from her to replace more basal thoughts such as 'what am I doing here' or 'what is this place' or 'what are these others around me'.

Soon weariness made it so that she caved in and the little ghost remained tightly by her mother's side, drifting off with less and less previous-life thoughts and more and more this-life thoughts.


RE: the green mile - Astara - March 19, 2018

it was a small, dark thing that slid second onto the floor of the whelping den, all greased black of fur and sheathed by thin membrane. it remained still until relmyna's tongue breathed life into its diminutive rib-cage, and stirred with a tiny squall. 

soon the small thing was tenderly placed next to her sister; a bone white contrast that wrapped around her dark from like a plushy ouroboros. she stirred once against averna's flank before she drifted into a dreamless sleep, unaware of either relmyna or kove's presence.


RE: the green mile - Maegi - March 19, 2018

It was with great reluctance that she had set foot in the glen once more. This had once been her place, her shared stomping ground with her brothers. But since Ramsay and Euron had left with Cicero, she'd avoided it altogether, not even coming near the cliffs that bordered it. The whelping den was there, though, and if she were to be any sort of help--whether practical or emotional--to Relmyna, she must go. . .and swallow the memories that choked her with every breath.

She lingered outside, wincing at the woman's cries but not feeling it her place to enter the den. Soon enough, all was calm, the soft, homely sounds of a mother nursing her newborn children music to her ears. This was the first birth she was present for save her own, and it was natural that she'd remember much more of the details of this one.

Kove appeared, an otter clenched in his jaws, and Maegi gave him a shaky smile, watching as he entered the den. She counted a few silent seconds in her head before slipping into the cave herself, a small, pale shadow of her mentor.

The stone beneath her pads was cool and familiar, the dark wet atmosphere of the place like coming home again. She blinked at Relmyna, the smile lingering on her muzzle, then her gaze shifted downward, to the two pups nestled against her belly.

One white, one black. Cuddled together so tightly, it seemed as if nothing could separate them.

A sob rose very suddenly in her throat, and she looked away, feeling the loss of her brothers more acutely than if someone had broken one of her limbs. There was no gray to complete the trio, but she could have very well been looking at her and Ramsay, nestled against Potema's belly in a perfect world. And they were perfect, at least from what she could see, their bodies sleek and soft and normal. Not strange, not demons, like she and her littermates had been.

The world would smile down upon the newest Blackfeathers, she was sure of it. She knew she must serve as a teacher, a friend, a dark sister to the babes. Who else would?

But in this moment, all she wanted was her brothers at her side.



RE: the green mile - Iliksis - March 21, 2018

he is trespassing so... feel free to chomp

the exhausted howl that filtered skyward through the winter-beaten forest was unmistakable; and while not meant for him, iliksis drifted towards it. in his heart he thought he knew well the reason for the cry, and compelled to witness for himself the woman's whelps, slipped into blackfeather territory with the ease of a wolf who knew well their borders.

he came to the whelping den upon the heels of two others, and for a moment he seemed to question the intelligence of his decision. uncaring of the fangs that would surely be inflicted upon him, he pushed past the girl that hiccuped a sob and leveled his dull gaze on relmyna. she looked more feral than he ever remembered, and for a moment he wished to reach out and touch her roused fur, to drink of the pained struggle still fresh on her breath. the audience in the whelping den inhibited his instinct and he tensed, expecting recourse for his brash actions from the male in short order.

the beauty of new life was lost on iliksis, who saw the two whelps as a detriment to his own personal ambitions with relmyna. for now they slept, safe from his jaws -- but given the right circumstance, perhaps their future would not be so assured.


RE: the green mile - Relmyna - March 23, 2018

awaken.
relmyna's senses were awakened first by the inner whispering of her subconscious, then the scent of meat. kove — his scarred and handsome face loomed nearby, and the evoker fought the instinctual tension of her limbs around the sleeping babes. this was the dark master of blackfeather, she reassured herself; he would bring no harm to the new spiderlings. for that was what they were, the aspirant priestess knew, pulling away her plume so that kove might see the two daughters there, one obsidian, the other alabaster.
their names
the woman's eyes widened; she drew the rock of tongues to her breast and swallowed. perhaps he had seen her use the stone, once, but she could not be sure he knew its purpose. however, the whispers of the churn beneath its surface told the woman she must trust kove, she must trust in the spirits that lurked the wooded halls of blackfeather, which had been her home since her awakening, and now was tied within the tiny pristine souls of her children.
and so relmyna turned her gaze toward kove, preparing to deliver him the names she had chosen.
maegi had come; the evoker found her attention drawn inexorably from the dark master to the girl she considered the eldest among her daughters, and quietly gestured the young wolf closer. at the child's sob, the woman's lips tightened, and she was on the first utterances of a soothing croon before the narrow wicked face of the reaper split the shadows alongside maegi.
and here the lackluster gold of the dybbuk's stare fell heavily over her — relmyna fancied she saw possession in the intemperate depths. despite the half-dozen emotions that spiraled wildly with the frantic beating of her mother's heart, relmyna saw he would be fallen upon in seconds, and her vision narrowed to a red-misted point.
perhaps in some way, she felt that the dark hellion had given himself in part to her, and she to him, but it had never dispelled the malevolence that clung to him like a blight. his presence here was dangerous; for himself, for her, for her place within blackfeather, and for the children in the whelping glen. he had come; he had not remained at the borders; he was here, and her mother's heart brought the evoker lunging from her prone place against the floor; she spared only a moment beforehand to nudge the newborns to one side.
kove would not stand for it; relmyna leapt into the sliver of space between the reaper and maegi, and struck for the man's wicked features. her heart resisted what she had done only a moment, before relmyna was swallowed by the natural thrumming of her natural impulses, heightened by the scent of her own blood in the air, the fragrance of milk that had wet her underbelly. out! she shrieked silently, seeking with the tearing of her fangs, the thrust of her small body against his taller frame, to drive him back, back, back —
— and perhaps by some stroke of dumb luck prepare the way for him to escape, though the battle-scarring of the dark master, the tightening of healthy musculature beneath pale pelt, told her it was unlikely.



RE: the green mile - Kove - April 01, 2018

When a sob broke the silence his ears slicked back, gaze seeking out that of the child’s. It did not take a genius to pinpoint the source of her sorrow, especially not after having followed where her eyes led. Back up went his ears and he inched towards her, offering his presence as something she could lean into and embrace; he could never replace her siblings—no one could—but he wanted her to know, at least, that he was there. He would not leave, not whilst the woods still stood and his body continued to move. Yet he could linger there for only a moment, the glen soon invaded and the sanctuary of the children breached.

Each motion was quick, a lounging mother turned beast, her children tucked aside. Kove saw them—the newest additions to the woods—and he cared for their well-being more so than the intrusion itself, for the adults of the woods would always be capable of handling themselves far better than the young. He took a moment, a fleeting second, to jab roughly at his apprentice’s side and urge her towards the whelps, though he did not wait to see if she complied. Immediately after contact was made he was turning, teeth bared and tail arching as he rushed towards the dark mass; should he have the chance to do so, he’d shove past the new mother in an effort to take the lead, jaws agape and snapping at whatever he could reach long enough to close them around.



RE: the green mile - Maegi - April 02, 2018

assuming it's ok to hop over the pups since they're PPC

Relmyna looked at her with comfort, and Kove drew alongside her, and for the shortest of moments, Maegi felt peace. She might be missing her brothers, her father. . .but she had these two, and now the babes, and perhaps in time, her wounds would heal. She smiled, and was about to ask what the little ones would be named when she heard pawsteps outside and was shoved aside by a dark shadow.

Iliksis. Her stomach clenched with a sudden dread at his appearance. She hadn't seen the rogue male since he'd challenged Vaati--and she'd never really known what had come of that particular uproar--and had believed him to be gone for good, taken to the hills in the aftermath of Blackfeather's defeat. She didn't know much about him, but she knew she didn't like him. That was enough.

Evidently Relmyna found his presence here distasteful as well, for she launched herself at him, a white, snarling blur of claws and fangs. Kove soon followed suit--she felt only slightly his insistent touch upon her side--and Maegi, left behind in the maelstrom, panicked for a brief instant. She wasn't a warrior in the least, and the last time she'd seen fighting, her uncle's blood had painted the forest floor.

Gripped in the jaws of fear, she felt her body unconsciously move sideways, toward where the babes lay. She shielded them from the grisly, violent scene unfolding before them, muscles trembling even as she put on a brave face, baring her teeth, mismatched eyes flashing in the dim light.



RE: the green mile - Iliksis - April 05, 2018

he expected the male to protest his presence -- but it was relmyna that came after him, white-hot and wild. his frame jolted and the she-wolf, burgeoned by instinct to eliminate any threat to her brood, had found him. he had only managed to turn away as her teeth sunk into his hips -- with a snarl he pulled back his lips and pressed forward, clawing his way out of the den in time for kove's blows to assail him.

knocked aside by the impact he lost his footing and stumbled, fear gripping the tattered recesses of his filthy heart. a second set of fangs pressed into him, this time by kove -- a neat, black-blooded gash rising from his stifle.

iliksis labored to break into a flat gallop, feeling searing pain fall down his leg with each step. he would try to flee, to escape them -- knowing full well he would be back should he manage to somehow evade death this day.


RE: the green mile - Relmyna - April 05, 2018

the breadth of relmyna's world had narrowed to the dome of the whelping den; here those she held in her heart were gathered, and her instincts roared black words within her cracked mind until she had gone to ground within her own consciousness and scored his jutting hip with her fangs, until blood flooded her pale lips and she arched her plume in some sodden victory.
the next moment brought kove's hard body against her as the dark master sought to pit himself against the dybbuk
your devil
and relmyna found herself turned roughly away. it was the way of things; she faulted kove not for it, and if had been but any other creature, would have treasured in her heart the sight of his fangs bringing justice. but in the moments that followed, repugnance soured her belly. the evoker watched with a numb expression spreading like oil across her scarred features as kove tore a new gash in the devil, his assault upon the wraith full and terrible.
she stumbled backward then, the scent of the whelping den striking her senses forcefully, and turned with staring eyes to regard the spiderling who crouched with teeth bared over her wailing siblings. their cries flared in her mother's body; milk began to bead along her teats in response.
and relmyna, who would have intended to kill maegi in her woeful state had not she recognized her eldest, splayed back her black ears and drew a shuddering breath. she took a step toward the three children, one to carry her to their aid, to soothe the terror in the little priestess' two-toned eyes.
but her mind's eye saw the horrible parting of the demon's flesh from his stygian body, and as kove's teeth ripped again in her memory, so did relmyna's awareness falter. down dragged the chaos of her spider-webbed mind; the evoker collapsed in tight convulsions to the den floor, teeth locked and foam flecking her lips, until the tremour had utterly exhausted her taxed body. she lay half-conscious against the ground after, the rise of her pale flank the only evidence she lived.
and her daughters continued to scream.