Bearclaw Valley my god, my god, why have you forsaken me?
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#1
All Welcome 
collars come off today!

the blades of the helicopter whipped up violent gusts of wind and snow as they hovered over the valley.

they were back for ulva.  they flew low over bearclaw, letting the wolves get used to the sound of their machines.  it would be no good if they all came out at once.

ulva was in her usual spot at the boulder in the mouth of the valley, once more allowing them easy access once they were ready to take their shot.

but oh no, not yet.

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i'll be damned if i end up playing Job with god's loving hand on my throat
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#2
steals this at the speed of sound

Sif's depature has caused her some measure of indecision. She understands and supports the girl's decision to leave, but... a part of her thinks, perhaps i ought to follow. Would Sif... would Sif allow her to follow, she wonders, or would her presence only continue to strain her burgeoning sense of identity? Leaving to follow Sif also means leaving Wardruna, although between the two she finds her loyalty is pulled more to her clay-colored sister-wife than her husband (yet leaving also means leaving Blondine and Phocion and Indra, who she has come to think of in fond terms...)

Fretting, Poet finds herself by the mouth of the valley. Her thoughts are distraction enough as such that it takes time for her to fully notice the overwhelming hum of wind and machinery. But once aware, it is all she can hear, the unnatural beating of manmade wings. What are those things, she wonders, feeling fear crep into her: omens, portents, symbols, but worse, because she has no words for what they are. Big metal birds.

She's found herself near enough to see Venninne in her usual spot, and though she's never sought the girl for company, now she turns to look up at her, her first instinct to gauge their guardian's reaction: whatever world-ending beasts have descended upon them, perhaps the wolfdog will know better how to handle it than she, made of only poetry and prophecy.
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#3


reigi is fear incarnate.

rooted to her stone, her mismatched gaze fixes upon those metal beasts with a scrutinizing glare.  she does not remember being shot, and the constant whirling of the beast's wings made her unable to determine scent.

but she knew.  this thing that had been fixed around her neck for the past month was because of them.  she did not have the memories to draw from but she was suspicious enough to accuse them anyway.  

the raven was guarding her home.  she would not let this thing swoop down and take another like they had taken her (though they had let her go with no harm, who was to say others would be so lucky?).  she was prepared to defend it with her life — her children's lives.

hyper-aware, her ears swivel atop her head as poet arrives on scene.  but she cannot tear her gaze from the metal beast.

its scales slide back to reveal more creatures.  reigi's lips turn up in a dangerous snarl, and her hackles raise.  then they point their many limbs at the raven and shoot.

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i'll be damned if i end up playing Job with god's loving hand on my throat
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#4


Poet has known gods and death, has prayed under weeping sky, wept with them, has danced, has worn blood on her paws. The air is electric between the two wolves, Venninne's obvious fear striking chill into her heart. What is this divine retribution for her sins? Is it so mighty as to rend apart the entire Valley? There is still time to flee, but the ex-priestess is rooted to the spot as the metal beast opens its jaws and alien-strange creatures swarm forward.

She is not near enough to Venninne to stop the sudden strike. "No," she gasps, and only then she comes unstuck, her delicate steps quick. If she can make it to Venninne's side, she can stop whatever reckoning is to befall them; she wants to cry out not her, not her, she's done nothing, it's me that you want. Her approach startles the aliens, who gesture with their limbs and make sounds she doesn't understand, and then:

As quick as the asp's bite comes the second shot, striking the sinner. She will not interfere with their machinations; she is only mortal, after all.
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#5
i have no idea how to make this thread interesting and there's some heavy pp here; let me know if you want it changed.

she tumbled from atop her rock (thankfully, it was not far), scooting closer to her packmate.  she hears another fwoom! and before she knows it, the priestess who offered reigi play had been shot too.

no!

she would not let this woman be collared.  furiously and to no avail, she snapped her jaws, teeth clacking against the frigid winter air.  she became dizzy — this time they would not make the mistake of not administering enough.

she tumbled to the ground.  the fleshy pink creatures emerged from the giant beast and grabbed BCV-04 and her packmate, taking their vitals and looking them over.  quickly, they removed the collar from the breeding female and returned both of the wolves to bearclaw valley.

it would take time for reigi to come to, but when she did she was strangely disoriented and nauseous.

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i'll be damned if i end up playing Job with god's loving hand on my throat
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#6
all good w me!!!! this is very interesting hehe

Her sleep is unlike any she'd had before. It feels as if time has been stolen from her, the moments between her eyes shutting and opening erased from history itself. Groggy and unsettled, she does not rouse at first, her muddled thoughts struggling to make sense of the events she just witnessed. Some great omen, the metal beast, the aliens within, the sting of pain and then... what is it they'd taken from her, for they must have stolen some thing?

Oh, Venninne! Panicked she scrambles on the ground, making it mostly upright though not quite standing, her legs still wobbly, and casts about for her pregnant companion. Relief fills her as she takes in her form, uninjured as far as her eyes can see, and missing the strange device that'd been clasped around her throat. On shaking legs Poet takes stumbling steps toward her, laying down near her once she's close enough to speak. "Are you hurt?" She asks, eyes tracing the swollen curve of her belly, worried at what their strange visitors might have caused.
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#7


the first thing she notices is poet, who is lucky enough to have lay down in front of anna instead of waltzing up to her.  she is dizzy and disoriented, but anything that came too close would still be met with sharp snaps of her alabaster cutlery.  she whines and it sounds defeated.

this must have been the work of him, of the man who had defiled her.  and if it was, what else was he capable of?  how close was he?  although sia was normally the strong one, she desperately needed poet's assurance.  she unceremoniously flopped next to her on the ground, shivering as she worked her way close.  they would be safe if they were together.  they had to be.

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i'll be damned if i end up playing Job with god's loving hand on my throat
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#8

Closer the pair crawled, Poet slow and hazy in movement until she's able to reach out and gingerly press her nose against Venninne's shoulder, seeking some physical assurance that they're both really here, that this isn't a dream or vision. 

But the metal bird! Surely that was a vision, some shared prophecy for both of them, though she cannot make heads or tails of what it could be. Desperately she wishes Phocion were near. She no longer has a connection to the gods, but he might, he might. 

Phocion does not materialize despite her thoughts. Instead she croaks, "Venninne," realising only after that she still doesn't know if that's her name or just one Sif granted her. She breathes through her teeth. "Can you stand..?" She tries, pulling back slightly to grant the woman the space to rise if she's able. They need to get back into the safety of the Valley at the least... call for Xan, call for Blondine. Pray the bird does not return more bloodthirsty. 
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#9
holy carp!  i'm sorry for the wait on this one, omg!  if you wanna close after this next post, you can




She was dizzy, but she stood at Poet's ushering.  She ducked next to the woman, running alongside her, woozy and scared.  Annasiak whined, and on her wobbly legs she tried to usher Poet deeper into the valley.  To safety.

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