Hideaway Strath where secrets lie in the border fires

Claiming howl thread! Awwwrrroooooo! This takes place the evening of March 31, 2017. Let’s flex them vocal cords.

THIS THREAD IS MANDATORY.

C’mere, @Arturo, @Chusi, @Rollo, @Olive, @Dakarai, @Lia, @Conan, @August, @Hemlock, @Cassiopeia, @Sirius, @Aries!

Not sure if we are close enough to Golden Glade to have a wild @Dagfinn appear, but it would be lovely if so. ♥

Home.

Lotte Ansbjørn Fearghal walked the northern perimeter of Teaghlaigh’s new home with a suspicious air, her coal-capped tail cricked in eloquent, if unspoken, discontent. Despite the intermittent rippling of her thin-stretched flanks and the cramps that doubled her over every few strides, she dug wide swaths in the soft earth with her talons and copiously scent-marked the bottlenecked stretch of neutral territory that sequestered the strath from the rest of the hinterlands. She was possessive — not only of the idyllic valley but of its largely uninhabitable neighboring territories. In her painfully gravid state, navigating the morass was difficult, but she cut into it with her border marking nonetheless until her soot-stockinged legs were damp with mire. The young mother-to-be moved like a woman possessed, her argent eyes glittering with a fierceness typically seen only on the battlefield, and she kicked her weary body into a trot as she moved east. This, too, she would take. She wanted the painted rocks and its gold-veined walls, and she made her wanting plain with rubbings of fur and smatterings of urine. She would encourage the Family to defend these territories as ardently as the vale itself. Teaghlaigh would build not merely a kingdom, but an empire.

A hiss tore from her lips; she curled in on herself as another gut-wrenching pain ripped through her. There was a small, fearful voice inside her that niggled and prodded at the wrongness she felt; dimly she knew that she should not be experiencing pains of this intensity, and she wondered in an endless tumble of paranoia and bitterness whether she was going to survive the birth of her children. Whether they would survive. Lotte licked her lips, saliva dripping in unattractive strings from her jaws as she panted harshly.

Typerää tyttö! Olet Banríon — käyttäytyvät kuin kuningatarta!

In triumph, in travail, Lotte set aside her fears and threw back her head. She had begged Arturo for this chance before they’d ever departed Ravensblood Forest, and he had granted it without blinking an eye. He waited now, she knew, for Lotte to lead the pack in victorious song as they proclaimed their ownership of this place. Scraping the bottom of her vocal register, the silver-tongued bard allowed her voice to soar in pitch and volume as she explored her extensive vocal range. Her warm, rich timbre leapt and dove, and when all the air in her lungs was spent, she hauled in another deep breath and started again. Sure, Lotte was showboating — but her motives weren’t entirely selfish. Just about 99.9% or so.

slight PP of Dak carrying Cassi! lemme know if i should change it!

They had finally arrived back to the place where himself,Arturo, and Chusi had scouted to. It was every bit as safe as he remembered and he nudged Olive forward carrying a tired Cassiopeia in his jaws. Once Lotte stopped ahead of them he set the child down and watched Banrion with eager eyes. The eagerness faded when he heard the pained hiss escape her jaws, and watched as she seemed to be in pain. Taking a step forward he was about to ask of her health when she erupted into song.


The sound sang of victory and pride and he found himself stunned by her vocal supremacy, and urged himself to join her. Taking his place by Olive's side he raised his muzzle and crooned, his deep baritine vocals accomanying Lotte's powerful tune with a complimentary stregth. He allowed himself to smoothly flow over a range of emotions, grief and sadness turning to pride and relief, turning to the victorious claim he was sure they all felt over this land.

Hemlock watched the Banrion with worry; it was not written across her face or focused in her features and she spoke her concerns to no one. She knew that soon the Banrion would bring forth the next heirs of the Forest. Mentally Hemlock corrected herself, it was no longer the Forest they laid claim to - it was not their haven anymore. Bitterness welled in her heart and she watched for a moment at the little family. It would not have been hard to imagine Palisander carrying their daughter, destined to carry his brilliant orange eyes with perhaps the cream of her pelt. They would not have cast the pack from their Forest though. They would have stayed; would have been rooted to their future rather than causing chaos for all those around them. Hemlock had to change those thoughts. Palisander was in the ground and their chances were gone. 

She worried for the Fearghal matron. Her knowledge of medicine was enough that she could tell something was happening - if it was just prelabor or if she'd come into her own soon enough, Hemlock would keep a careful eye on her. Despite whatever she felt the Banrion did not show it, she lifted her head in song to make her proclamation over the lands. The Strath was theirs. It was theirs. Hemlock lifted her head and joined her song with those of her Family - again, claiming the lands on behalf of Teaghlaigh as she had in the Ravensblood so long ago. They were home. 

Heedless of those who might consider him a stranger, Dagfinn barreled into the midst of his sister's pack. He'd caught their scent while wandering the day before, but had been unable to catch up until now.

"Rakeet!" he bellowed, panting lustily as he skidded to at Lotte's side. He stood long enough to give her a sloppy kiss on the cheek before collapsing beside her, unable to stand any longer. The steady beat of his tail against the ground belied his true state of health - the dark youth was merely winded, and not in danger of expiring any time soon.

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Arturo does not leave Lotte’s side as they finally breached the Strath, though he has rarely left her side during the entire move. At times, he had notices her pain as quiet and tamed as she tries to keep it. He worries several times that she might be going into labor but when he dis the mental math he knew it was too soon. Too soon for her to go into labor naturally and though he hid it well the fear that ripped through him was like an unbidden tsunami. What were to happen if she went into labor too early? Would she live through it? Would the children? He could not lose Lotte. He could not lose their children. He couldn’t. Not after everything they had sacrificed. Teaghlaigh needed to see their Queen give birth to healthy little Fearghal’s. After the sacrifice of Teaghlaigh they needed the beacon of hope that it would give: that they were resilient. That they could survive. He calms, if only slightly, by Hemlock’s presence. She has arrived at a good time, at time when Teaghlaigh possibly needs her the most.

His nightingale’s song is the first to shatter the silence of the Strath as they have predetermined before they had begun their move. She showboats and Arturo gives her a small smirk before he tips his head back and his song joins her’s as the voices of others join in.

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Known to Dakarai or not, his son was following close behind, glancing back and forth between various wolves as they began to gather. He did not like being among so many others, and let out a small growl here and there to warn them to keep their distance. But even then, if they bugged him there was not really much he could do about it, besides pup-growls and hollow threats.

The silver boy wrinkled his nose at the scents he picked up, and truly he didn't recognise any of them, other than his father's and his sister's. Everyone else was a total stranger to him. Despite this, Da seemed to respect them, which in turn stopped Aries from snapping. But if they annoyed him too much then he wouldn't think twice about it. That was Aries, for ya.

He felt a pull, a tug, a shiver of excitement, as the pack began their songs. The little boy could not sing himself, but the howl itself captured him enough that he tipped back his head and added a cry to mix.

It probably sounded like a strangled cat, but Aries was unaware. Ignorance was bliss, right?

August approached the group with her head low and her tail tucked firmly inbetween her legs. Of course, many wolves here wouldn't have a clue who she was, and that only made things all the more scary. The timid maiden glanced around, hoping to catch sight of Conan or Declan, the ones who had brought her here. Not necessarily against her will, since she could have said no or run away, but that didn't mean she was comfortable here. 

After all, there were a good few males and it petrified her. She froze for a while, staring at the men (even the one with the pups, though she eyed them with a loving expression) before taking a deep breath and shooting small gazes at the females. Why on earth were they howling? Weren't only men allowed to do that? What was wrong with these wolves, did they not have strict rules such as the ones August had grown up with? Clearly not.

Although the cream girl was scared and fidgety, she bravely tipped her head and let out a melodic cry. Unknown to her, it held secretive sorrows and hints of pain. As soon as she realised this, she stopped and waited for a bit. Then, breathing in once more, she tried again. The song she sung was no doubt beautiful, but this time it showed less emotion, other than the slight joy of being able to join in and howl with the rest of the pack as they claimed this land.

As Teaghlaigh took up her cry, Lotte dropped the proud cant of her head and let them sing. She tried very hard to arrange her black-masked features into something resembling contentment, but the line of her mouth was taut and drawn and her small, bearlike ears were clamped painfully against her crown as she panted. Argent eyes flashed as she looked intently at each wolf present, and her heart swelled with a fierce sense of purpose that had admittedly cooled to a lukewarm ennui since her time beneath Donnelaith’s hallowed boughs. This was her pack — this strath would be their home — and she was their Banríon. The journey to reach this point, this place, had been grueling and miserable, but it had also solidified her place in the Family. Her wolves were ragtag and imperfect, a little worse for wear, but she felt her spirits lift despite her pitifully gravid state and went round to each member — exchanging scents. Among them was @Hemlock, who had lost so much and sacrificed more, and Lotte shared a particularly poignant embrace with her. “I thank you for your aid, liekkikukka,” she murmured as their necks crossed, ash blurring into flame, and her lips caressed the bulb of the Kali’s ear. Her whisper was strained and rough around the edges.

“Rakeet!”

“Dagfinn — Dagfinn!” The smoke-and-shadow rogue whipped around so fast her head spun as her kaksonen stampeded through the pack to collapse at her side. Her coal-capped tail whipped wildly as she tried to maneuver her cumbersome body into something resembling a cuddle, but she couldn’t relax. The pains were too sporadic. Whimpers and whines of joy and excitement tangled in her throat between garbled half-sentences in Common and Tundran as she bathed his face in kisses and raised her paw in a halfhearted attempt to hoist him up and smother him lovingly in her décolletage. “This is my twin!” she boasted to anyone who would listen. “@Chusi, come and meet your Uncle Dagfinn. Turo — you were right! My kaksonen has found us after all!” Everything was just about perfect, aside from the infernal cramping.

Somewhat jerkily — she was normally a surefooted creature, but she was barely keeping afloat now — Lotte turned to @Arturo with as saucy a wink as she could muster. “Say it,” she demanded of him playfully, striving for levity to bury the thickness in her throat and the threat of tears that stung her eyes. “An amendment to Teaghlaigh’s first tenet: Ceannasach’s word is law but Banríon’s song is louder.” It might not have been a great idea to joke about Teaghlaigh’s cardinal rules, but Lotte was Lotte. She managed a smile, though it froze upon her face as another forceful cramp contorted her spine; she hid her discomfort gracefully by gradually curving herself into a sitting position and addressed @August in a quiet murmur. Here was Kaniini in the flesh. “Your voice is lovely,” she said, as gently and as kindly as she could. “You do not need to tiptoe — this is your home and you are sheltered here. You are among Family.” Lotte, ever sensitive to sound, had picked up on the sorrow in the older female’s voice — and although she would not tolerate insubordination from any wolf, particularly the pack’s females, she wasn’t a tyrant.

As other joined in the song he felt his spirits lift highly, and sang with all his might up until a blur of black shot toward Lotte. He paused in shock and stared, waiting for the worst though what he saw was not bad at all. It seemed the two were affectionate toward one another, and Dakarai's observations were correct as Lotte announced that the man she had called Dagfinn was her twin. Turning away from the loving scene between Arturo and Lotte he turned his head toward his son, who was attempting to howl and making a horrid and loud noise of it.



Chuckling and not one to shun good attempts he nudged Aries "Good job! With practice that howl with be powerful and strong, just like you will be someday" he encouraged warmly. Nudging Aries and Cassiopeia looking around for @Olive. He hadn't seen her or Sirius yet, and it worried him greatly.

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The journey is over, the feral Commander realizes as they reach the Strath and do not venture beyond it. The feeling of settling washes over him and he draws in a deep breath of the foreign scents of the Strath as his casts his amber gaze around. It is well fortified, at least, easily defendable if they need to make a stand. Although, the con — he notes with a low grunt of disapproval — is that if they have to make a stand they will be cornered in their own pack lands. While it offers easy defenses it also traps them like cattle for slaughter. Boldy they rode, into the jaws of death, into the mouth of hell. Well, it was his job to ensure that if anyone was going to meet their death in this Strath it would not be the members of The Family it harbors. He only desires for this…all of it to be worth it. His deep, guttural voice does not join the others as their voices rise in tandem. Not at first, at least. He draws up alongside Conan, gaze finding August with her tail tucked between her legs, before he tips his head back and lets loose a howl that strikes against and then melds with that of The Family’s.

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During Teaghlaigh’s trip to their new territory, Olive will be experiencing the 7 stages of grief — grief over the pain of Dakarai losing (and regaining) his memory, being brutalized, BFW finding them, being demoted and abandoning Ravensblood Forest… and a little bit of postpartum depression. Each thread will represent a different stage of grief, dated in order (albeit, a little expedited). This thread represents the final stage 7: acceptance and hope. 

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Olive wasn’t far when she heard Baríon’s song. They had found the Strath, the land that held so much promise for them, and it was every bit as wonderful as Ceannasach claimed. The lands surrounding their asylum were rough [and their tireless trek was even rougher], but the inner sanctum of the strath was calm, kind. Olive had loved and respected the titans of Ravensblood Forest but the vivacity and color of this oasis could easily earn her love. When the chorus of voices thrust high into the air, Olive and @Sirius had been off exploring the landscape and scouting new areas of the valley to survey. The mother’s world seemed brighter than it had in recent weeks and she was able to maintain a steady level of energy — it wasn’t much, but Olive found herself able to carouse with her husband and children… and enjoy the simplicity of the act too, instead of experiencing nothing but utter exhaustion. 

“This way, stardust” the sylph cooed as she nudged little Sirius forward, towards the epicenter of the family’s song. However, Olive often forgot how young her children truly were [they had traveled far for ones so young, and taken the changes in the life with a strange sense of maturity] so she easily misjudged the speed his little nascent legs were able to handle. In haste, she gathered his scruff in her mouth and carried the child the rest of the distance, nimbly picking her way across the landscape and using her strengthened body to burst onto the scene. Olive placed Sirius upon the ground, brushed her lips against the sky and sang her sweet song… but only caught the last few bars before their voices faded and conversations resumed. 

It mattered naught. As Olive looked out across the gathering of Teaghlaigh wolves, she felt a sense of… faith. Arturo [as terse as he was] had not failed her. Olive knew quite well that she has lost his respect and that he operated from a desire to protect his own family — but he had not let her own family die in the process. It was something Olive had been blind to, but now that she saw it, she wanted to thank him for it. Dakarai had not failed her, when she did nothing but fail him — she was thankful for this, most of all. With a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure Sirius would follow, the pale sylph trotted up beside her husband and two other children. Olive extended her neck to place an endearing kiss upon Dakarai’s cheek and pulled back to look at him, a tired smile danced upon her lips.

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The small girl swang like a pendulum in da’s jaws, completely unperturbed by anything and everything around her. When she was carried like this, it almost put her into a trancelike state and she neither wanted to cry out nor misbehave. It did not matter if it was ma who carried her, or da as he did at that moment — it could have been anyone carrying her, and the girl was content. The girl would simply huff deeply and pull her small limbs into her body and sit heavily in her hide, being transported by the skin of her scruff. It was how the young cub, scarcely a week old, made it through the travel across the Teekon Wilds — a dangerous mission made much easier by the strong adults that surrounded her. Cass felt safest when being held and carried in their strong jaws, feeling their strong legs move. She drew her strength from theirs.

That all changed when da placed the child upon the ground. The moment the the fuzz of her butt touched the ground, a loud din offended her sensitive ears! She cried out in protest, she small voice easily drowned out in the sea of elated singers. Cassiopeia knew naught of the happiness of the occasion — only that it was loud and made her little head ring something fierce! She cried out again and searched blindly for the safety of her father’s limbs. She pushed herself about on unsteady limbs, crying and crying and crying even after the chorus had died away. Cass nosed around da’s strong ankles before finding ma’s feathered ankles and the girl butted her head against them, angrily and happily [at the same time]. She was a child of Teaghlaigh, and they were not born with small spirits.

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Even he, the son of a king and noble-blooded knight of the realm, was exhausted when they finally came to their new home. The journey had worn him down in unforseeable ways, but enriched him as well: Pendragon held a strong belief in Arturo's people now, that they were indeed hardy and strong individuals. They had coveted their previous home and were loath to leave it, but the journey together proved their inescapable fortitude. He was glad to know them and proud to be serving them.

But he was still tired. Not even the Snaketail had been such an arduous task (this being a massive crack in a segment of his home island, a crevice that children often played upon foolishly and upon which knights honed their skills). He found his mind flitting between a zombie-like level of exhaustion and the briefest flurries of memory, and thus the man held a dumb smile as he crossed in to the strath's heartland alongside the others. At first he was too distracted to realize they had made it; but then as each wolf craned their head and sang, he felt his spirit lift and a sense of anticipatory glee fill him in entirety.

Although he is still so foreign to them, Pendragon casts his head back and joins in to the song — he asks the wind to carry the message over the fields and to the crashing sea where he knows his family is worrying — he proclaims himself one with the wolves of Teaghlaigh, and vows in this primal moment to become something great among them.

sorry to be late!

[table width=85%][tr][td]There are many members of Teaghlaigh that she has yet to interact with. 

There is Rollo, the stalwart man who reminds her much of Lucca but with a wild, untameable heart. Chusi, the strong-willed young woman that Ceannasach adopted (a good decision if there ever was one). August, the shy newcomer who seems to have been hurt sometime in life if Lia is reading her correctly. Pendragon, another new member of the Family with quite the courteous personality. Olive, the  melancholy wife of Dakarai and her tiny babes. Dagfinn, the exotic brother to Banríon. Hemlock, the mysterious Family member she had no idea even existed. Declan, who Lia does little more than nod to in recognition for he is much like Rollo and words would be useless. 

The sheltered cove is not quite Ravensblood Forest. She holds little tie to the bleeding seqouias save for the fact that her raven led her there.

Despite the differences, the Strath is safe enough and best of all: far from Blackfeather Woods. 

As her Family claims the hidden sanctuary Lia tips her head back and howls with them, song flowing from her silver throat with relief. They will be safe.[/table][/tr][/td]

Thank you for participating, everyone! Quick phone post to wrap this up.

Lotte watched with pride as wolf after wolf took up the anthem, and when the singing and celebrating had come to a joyous close, she made her wishes known: "This land is ours — but we must be equally vigilant about the morass to the west and the ravine to the east. Be cautious and courteous with the wolves you come across, but do not let them goad or take advantage of you. If there is ever an issue, we will handle it as a Family."