Ravensblood Forest The Trumpets Sound

Engel, he had been spending more and more time outside of the Morningside territory. He didn't want to be caught in the line of sight of Grayday, especially around this season. If he slipped up one more time, he had an idea of what would happen to him. Out here, he decided to let his frustrations out...in song.

"She stood there, before me, first time I'd seen her face. She stood there, contemplating, eyes taunting me to chase. 

What's this feeling that I have, this feeling that fills my chest? This feeling that feels the best. What is...what is..." How had he ended up so emotional? He had never felt sad like this, not in a long time.

Godot had wormed her way towards the sea across unfamiliar lands and now she was far enough away that she didn't worry about the necromancers -- if they were that, which she highly suspected they were, regardless of what anyone might say.  Certain conspiracies were ones that she felt much safer desperately grasping to them rather than having them dismissed -- if anyone really wanted their lands to look so foul, they were likely wolves she wanted to avoid anyway.  Here it seemed like there were perhaps a few resident wolves, but nothing that to her seemed super permanent.  As far as she knew, she wasn't trespassing.  And if she was, well, she'd run.

But now she entered a different forest.  She wasn't quite to the sea yet though the air was distinctly salty.  It was near.  But it wasn't waves that met her ears, but instead someone.. singing?  Her ears cupped forward as her stance changed.  She crept forward, alert and cautious but not necessarily being stealthy, her footsteps audible on the patches of snow and dead underbrush.  Soon enough she spotted him, some other reddish wolf, though her own patterns were more clearly defined. Well, at least he didn't seem to be casting an incantation or something either.  Just some singing dude.  So, as he seemed to lose his train of thought, she interrupted, What is that?  The song, of course.  Godot had a very low charisma score, that was for sure.

Engel shifted his head up, and quickly back down to wipe at his eyes. He couldn't let himself appear upset and crying in front of anyone, let alone a female. Once he was done, he turned his body around and tried to put on his most charmed, dashing grin. "Why, that was a song about love...Though I've forgotten some of the words to it" he said, which was a lie. He could not finish it, for it was the first song he ever sung. For Heartha.

She was oblivious, as she often was.  Perhaps it was because she hadn't had any relationships, perhaps she was just badly socialized as a child.  Whichever it was, she obviously didn't understand that a song could have such an effect on a person, so her response was perhaps a bit calloused, depending on how it was interpreted.  Well you could always make up some new words, right?  I mean you got the tune, so you could do something totally new with it.  Could make it a song about. Dunno. Rocks.  Wow, rocks!  That was totally something important and worthy of writing songs about, yup.

Maybe spells would be enhanced by singing them instead of just going through with the rituals and saying a few words.  She'd have to investigate that later.

"Uh...." He had to think, but if that was what the lady wanted...He cleared out his throat, and once words were thought up, he gave what she requested. "Beneath the ground, along the cliffs. Under the rivers, and among the hills. Harder than bone, yet smooth as....what would you say is smooth like a smooth rock?"

Her eyes lit up with catlike fascination.  She was still a fair distance away but she chanced a step closer.  Creation like that was far different than anything she'd done on her own in recent history -- okay, her spell making was quite creative, but she saw that as truth while songs were fiction, Ice? I mean normal water kinda is too. In like puddles and stuff.  Her selection of things wasn't exactly the norm when she continued, Oh!  Some birds look really smooth.  Don't know how they do that, like mourning doves are all smooth and perfect-looking and stuff.  Bet they're really soft and fluffy though.  Doves were quick, she hadn't managed to catch one.  Perhaps as a metaphor the doves work fine, expanded into some big thing about the , but Godot honestly wasn't thinking that way.

"Ice..." he murmured. He had an idea in mind now, and he kept it going. "Harder than bone, yet smooth as ice. Heavier than feathers, sinking down low. What is it I sing of? Why, the rocks! Gift of the ground! Rocks, they're all around!" He paused for a moment. He felt a little silly, singing about rocks, but the lady, odd as she seemed, had requested it. He was not one to turn down requests. "Am I doing well so far?" he called over to her.

She nodded vigorously, Yeah!  Like the world gives us all life and a place to live.  It totally deserves songs and things too, right?  Not just wolves or whatever.  Godot canted her head, I know people say sometimes there's spirits in stuff.  Like trees or whatever.  Or they guide the herds.  It wasn't her cup of tea, but she'd run across a couple of folks that fell in that category.  On paper she could understand why they believed it, she wasn't sure it was truth.  Ghosts, maybe.  Ordinary spirits?  Mehhh. I would imagine singing would please them, right?  So it might make life easier, too.  She was likely describing a bard, but didn't know the term nor job description.  One thing was certain, though.  She understood the physical world in that rocks existed, as did birds, and many creatures.

Godot appreciated the tangible.  Heaven help first pour soul she might actually develop feelings for -- it likely wouldn't end well.  Or normally.

Engel nodded slowly. He was starting to find her more odd and odd, talking about 'spirits' and singing to them. "Uh, yeah...yeah, I guess it would" he agreed, or at least tried to agree. 

"So, I've given a song...do I get a name in return?" he asked, daring a couple steps towards them. "I'll start first. My name is Engel...it rhymes with angel."

It was likely due to location that she wasn't entirely freaking out about the distance between them slowly shrinking as she had in a previous meeting.  A lack of necromancers will do that, and since she hadn't stumbled across any other packs that set off alarm bells, there was less panic overall.  It was likely a good thing that he couldn't see within the comparatively surrealist world that filled her brain.

Again she nodded.  Godot, which rhymes with... Uh.  Toe? Know?  Though it did, she couldn't think of anything more glamorous on such short notice.  A pause, a cant of her head the other way, and then she continued, What would Adelaide rhyme with?  She was not a clever wolf when it came to words, and when it came to the jumble of letters that made up her proper first name, it was a few too many for her to quickly think up a match.  Godot looked to see if Engle had a solution.  Surely a songwriter would know a better rhyme than her as a lowly witch or sorcerer or however she'd title herself this week.

"Well that's easy. Adelaide rhymes with-" He cut himself off, knowing instantly what he was about to say. And he could not think of anything but, so it took him a bit to think of something, anything besides laid. "Glade. Yeah, a glade! That rhymes with Adelaide." Glad I didn't say laid, he thought. However, he didn't realize he had said that aloud. Maybe not loud enough for them to hear, but still he did not realize it.

Wait, he cut off why?  Had he gone ahead of what he was thinking?  Perhaps Engle wasn't as clever as he seemed.  'Glade,' was his final decision, but Godot didn't think it was a particularly clever one.  This was perhaps because she was expecting an equally long word to match the one he was given.  But then he continued on, just below what was easily heard.  What she thought he said, though, was some quiet mumble making fun of her name.  She had her reasons for why she went by her last name, but Godot didn't need anyone else to pile on more.  Her eyes narrowed, her head lowering slightly to a more predatory position rather than the casual angle it had been held at before.  I suppose it does, but she didn't seem impressed.  In fact, her attitude shift had been a near 180, from friendly and harmless to now possibly dangerous.  It might have been better for Engle if she'd actually heard what he said, then she could just snark at him for being particularly uncreative.

Engel caught her shift. "Uh..." In his mind, he was thinking she wanted to play, taking that stance. Though by her tone, she didn't sound impressed. "What...what are you doing?" Was she about to charge at him? Try to take him on? That's when he realized, he had said aloud his thoughts. "I-I didn't meant it! I promise" he tried to reason with her.

Her earlier, slightly catlike movements were not just an one-off episode.  She carefully lifted one paw off the ground, placing it carefully before her. The corners of her mouth twisted upwards ever so slightly, but it didn't make her look friendly.

The problem was that others' discomfort, that potential bit of fear that she felt might be growing within him, drew her like a moth to the flame.  Godot wanted others to live like she had until she'd found her 'powers,' and any opportunity to do so was a good one.  It was like a drug to her.  If she ever ended up in a pack, it would be hell to train out of her, as fear was delicious when it wasn't her own. Oh, I don't know, are you sure?  It barely sounded like the same person who was naively chattering previously.  Honestly, if he'd caught the problem and just apologized instead of projecting confusion and worry, she likely would have calmed down.

Another step.

Engel was starting to back up now. The flip in her demeanor caught him quite off guard, and he wasn't sure how to react now. He was starting to freak out now. "What do you want...I d-don't think I've got whatever it is" he said, cause in his mind, he was starting to think her crazy. Especially by the look she had. "Hey, I'm sorry, okay? So l-let's just put it behind us, yeah?"

A step, quicker this time.

There were a few things she knew, more often than not, would freak out other wolves more often than not.  Her smile broadened, tongue lashing out a moment to drag across her muzzle.  A single, poisonous chuckle.  Oh, you'd be surprised.  Another step.  She was visibly moving now, slowly but fluidly.  Her muzzle started to crunch up into a toothy snarl, a low, barely audible growl was the only response to the second part of his plea.

Was he actually going to allow her to get close enough to try to take a chunk out of him?  They usually didn't do that.  Godot wouldn't mind the chance, it might be interesting.

As soon as he pace quickened, he started to quicken his pace. Only one thought was going through his mind after those next words; nope nope nope. He may have sometimes been into some weird females, but this one was too much. He went to turn and flee, his paws slipping a bit across the thin layer of snow.

She bolted after him but the chase didn't last particularly long.  Godot sprinted maybe twenty yards before coming to a halt with a cackle, chest heaving with breaths that were far heavier than what was needed, but she was just so pumped full of adrenaline that it was going to take a while to wear off.

Godot wasn't going to let another wolf think they could pick on her. She was done with that. She snarled at the thought, then galloped off towards the not-too-distant shoreline.