Wapun Meadow Coin operated boy
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#1
All Welcome 
In a myriad of smells that Wraen passed by that day, one stood out particularly and, when it entered her range for the third time, she postponed, whatever had been on her mind, to follow it. It was early morning, the mist had played in the grass during the night and just as the first rays of the sunlight reached the territories below, it disappeared, leaving dew behind and enhancing the strong and rich smell of grass and earth. 

But through all this the scent Wraen was following cut through as a knife. It was so different from, what she had known up until now, but strangely - felt that this should have been familiar as well. With her nose close to the ground she ploughed through the grass with no idea, what would await her at the end.
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Slavik had traveled from place to place, from forests to mountains to rivers to fields. But nothing had made him feel as at home and comfortable as the meadow he was in now. It mimicked almost perfectly the small meadow at the heart of Kendry Plains where he and his sisters had played, but much larger. A vibrant lime green terrain pepper with a prismatic array of flora. After rolling in a patch of daisies so long that his own scent mingled with it utterly, he got back on the move.

At some point Slavik came across some mint, which smelled so intriguing that he just had to get a nip of. He punctured a leaf with one pearly white canine, his lips peeled back carefully, then licked eagerly at the residue that condensed at the site of the puncture. It tasted strange, but even more odd than the taste was the sensation. As it went down his throat he felt his throat tingle and feel open. Even his nostrils felt a slight buzz. He liked that very much, so he didn't continue walking until the rest of the mint plant was a pile of chewed up leftovers on the ground.

Now smelling like a musty young male who'd been traveling for weeks, as well as sweet daisies, and fresh mint, Slavik trotted through the meadow at a refreshing pace. He became aware all at once that he'd crossed over a fresh scent trail, that belonged to another wolf, and feeling as ever in the mood for company, the living Bath and Bodyworks boy altered his path and made off after her scent. When  at last they found each other Slavik gave her a loud and friendly bark.
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Wraen did not find out, what lied at the end of the delicious scent trail, because her path was interrupted by a gorgeous specimen of wolf species. Not only did the young man looked like he had climbed down from heaven (coat colored in molten sunlight of various shades), he greeted her too. She was suddenly very aware of her plain looks and therefore did not say anything right away, letting her gaze go up and down the stranger's body, taking in every detail.

When she had quenched her initial thirst for information, she sat down and smiled at him in the most charming manner she could muster up. "What's up?" she asked and tilted her head to the side, waiting for his response.
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The female turned, looked him over and sat down to greet him. Her willingness for company was encouraging, he returned it with a charming smile and began to walk over to where she’d sat. He didn’t want to push his boundaries too far, so he kept some distance between them, but was close enough to have a good conversation. He shrugged in response to her question, Nothing much! Traveling and stuff, he said cheerfully and in a laidback and colloquial manner. Such was his nature, but what he’d learned from other recent interactions also played into it.

Slavik gave Wraen a quick glance over, just to check her out, and found that she was quite pretty. He thought most every girl was pretty, but Wraen seemed a little special. Perhaps it was her friendliness, that smile that lightened her face then  spread to his. Slavik decided that she may have been coated in dark colors, but she was radiant. 

I’m Slavik, you? he asked, tipping his own head to the side in a similar manner that she had.
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Slavik's cheerfulness was contagious and Wraen found herself chuckling gaily. With so many things to do in the pack, it had been a long time, since she had had a carefree laugh with someone. It was a welcome change.

"Nice to meet you, Slavik! My name is Wraen," she introduced herself and dipped her muzzle politely. "And, what have you discovered so far?" she asked then. "How many damsels in distress have saved, how many hearts have you broken, how many dragons have you slain?"
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Wraen, she introduced herself enthusiastically, she was equally as friendly as her big goof Slavik. And she was talkative, she asked about his journey but in a theatrical and charismatic manner. He couldn’t help but smile and let out a light chuckle. None, none, and surprisingly none! I really should get on that, he played along with a charismatic grin. His blonde furred chest puffed out as he took in a deep breath, catching her scent on the wind. It was familiar somehow, but he didn’t remember her. He would’ve remembered Wraen for sure, so why did he know her scent?

So what are you doing out here? Looking for dragons? he asked playfully, silently hoping that she might say something hinting at why he recognized her scent.
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"Really? Well, that is disappointing," Wraen looked away, pretending to be dissatisfied with the answer, when really she was having a better time with every passing minute. 

"Dragons are not really my game," she shook her head. "I am too small and it would take just a spark to turn me into dust. No. I am more of a treasure-hunting kind of person. What good there is in a dragon, if you cannot get your paws on the stuff those greedy fellows have accumulated over years?" she asked rhethorically.

"So, how did the vast world pulled you out of the humbly abode you were born in?"
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Slavik let out an amused huff when Wraen looked away, he was quite enjoying they're little conversation. He figured that her assumed distaste was exaggerated, so he didn't worry.

A tresure hunter! Now that sounded fun. Dragons weren't really his thing either, but he always had an eye out for hidden treasures. He gave a thoughtful hmph to her rhetorical question, and replied, I prefer treasure hunting too, I guess that makes us what... pirates? he asked, his fluffy tail swaying rhythmically behind him.

To her next question, Slavik shrugged. Over his adventure he'd been asked questions like this a lot. He still didn't have a great answer. All he knew for sure was that he was enjoying his journey immensely. Technically my sister. Back at my home pack, when you turn one you choose whether or not you'll stay or you'll go. My sister Simsey convinced me to go with her, and then somewhere along the way she decided to do her thing without me. So that's how I ended up alone, he said, then added quickly, I'm really glad I listened to her though. It's been a fun experience, and I like making my own way. Finding my own treasures you know?
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"Pirates? Never met them, but kind of yeah... I can imagine myself being a very good pirate," Wraen mused about the title briefly and then forgot about it entirely, when Slavik went on and told his story. Which incidentally was very much like Sarah's and Terance's. They too had left the pack together, when they had turned one, they had got separated and eventually each had taken a different path. 

"So, what other fun things have you done during your journeys? Since you have not dealt with the usual quest stuff, you have to impress the lady with something else?" she asked.
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Other fun things? Slavik wracked his brain to think of every fun thing he’d done since leaving Kendry Plains. Hm, he thought aloud, glancing around as if that would help him think. Finally his journey began to flood back to him, all the wolves he met and things he’d done. He smiled at the thought of them, then eagerly began to gush, Well, I’ve seen huge rivers so full they almost spilled onto the shore, a ginormous plateau where a pack lives on top, these crazy looking spiky mountains... oh! Me and Simsey found a waterfall a while ago, it was so clear the bubbles looked like stars, he mused, proud of the places he’d been.

He realized that he’d forgotten a place, a place that was pretty important to him, and he wasn’t sure how he’d forgotten. I also went to this forest that smelled like fox ass, me and this guy Rannoch went hunting together there, he said. Then with a smile, he added, I hope that’s enough to impress the lady. He gave her a playful nod.
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"Well, that part about "fox's ass" certainly spiced things up," Wraen grinned. "But I happen to know that guy Rannoch rather well. Fancy that you met him so far away from home," she remarked, because the alpha of Sunspire was not known for being too apt to leaving his packlands to journey elsewhere. He was a good diplomat and therefore great at dealing with the inside matters. 

"And where do you plan to go on from here? Autumn is here already and winter is on it's heels," she asked another question, because the guy seemed very happy to provide lengthy answers. Even if the questions themselves were not very original.
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Slavik smiled, glad that his word smithery had gone appreciated by Wraen. When she said that she knew Rannoch pretty well, Slavik brightened up. That was why he’d recognized her scent. She smelled like Rannoch. So you’re from Sunspire? he asked, very curious to know. 

She asked him what his future plans were, and Slavik shrugged. He was pretty go with the flow, but he had given this quite a bit of thought. Rannoch actually invited me to Sunspire, I’ve been really tempted but I’m still not sure. I will be finding a pack soon though, he said, wondering how she would feel about Rannoch’s proposition.
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"Born and raised. Well, not exactly, but I was there, when the pack was founded," Wraen replied and she was not surprised that Rannoch had offered the young man here to join them. New blood was important and refreshing as well. 

"In that case I advise to have you a very good look around and choose wisely. Not all packs take well with deserters, in case they find out that this is not a group they fit in," she said, thinking about Moonspear and Sunspire alike. Both packs had learned the way about misjudging people and putting too much hopes in them.

"There are quite a few to choose from both on this side of the mountain range and over the mountains as well," se shared some knowledge. "On the other hand - I think that you should enjoy your freedom as long as you can. Because all too soon one is drawn into the circle of life, taking care and raising a litter after a litter for the rest of your life. And these do not have to be your own children either."
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Slavik listened to her words with great, as she warned him to choose his pack carefully. It was a good point that she made, to think about the responsibility of a pack member and whether or not he would fit in well with the community. He’d thought from what Rannoch had told him that Sunspire would be a great fit for him, but her words only renewed his sense of adventure, and his decision to hold out for a little more freedom. 

She spoke next about that freedom, and the circle of life. Raising children that might not even be his own. He thought back to Rannoch’s kids, the three girls and one boy. He’d been offered a sitter position should he join, and Slavik was actually most enthralled by that idea. It wasn’t that part that scared him most, in fact it was the idea of caring for and being cared for by a pack that made Slavik so inclined to join one. Still her words were wise, and he nodded in gratitude for all the information she had shared.

Rannoch told me about his kids. Luckily for me, I love kids! So I think I could live with that. Trust me though, I’m going to keep enjoying my freedom. Thanks for all the advice Wraen, he said sincerely, then took a deep breath. He still smelled like mint and flowers, and the aromas  were pleasant on his nose.
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"I like kids as well - but it is one thing of looking at them from afar and swoon over, of how cute and adorable they are. Entirely the other is keeping them fed. Those little buggers grow and I swear they eat twice as more as a grown-up wolf," Wraen could count her days off on the fingers of her paws. The rest of the time was spent either looking for food or regurgitating it for the kids, once it was safely brought home in her belly. 

"But they seem quite a trouble as well. I swear that I have spotted the first white hairs in Rannoch's handsome face and he is not even middle-aged yet," she chuckled. "But that's my humble opinion anyway. I agree that I may be biased on this subject," she concluded the topic. "Since you mentioned being good with kids - maybe you fancy stories as well?"
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Slavik hummed in agreement to Wraen’s words. Kids were quite a handful, Agreed, I used to look after my younger cousins. I never had to hunt for them, but keeping them occupied was tiring. I always thought it was fun though, making up games for them and stuff, he explained. To her comment about Rannoch growing white hairs, Slavik chuckled as well. She moved on from the topic of kids and asked him another question, stories. He’d always loved stories, making them up, listening to them, you name it.

Sure! They’re fun, my dad always had some crazy stories to tell, he said, then cocking his head a little to the side he asked, why?
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"Well, you have the prefect chance now to impress the lady further and tell one of them," Wraen replied with a sly smile. If the person felt right and up for the task, she used to collect a story from them. If not a fiction, then bits and pieces of biography were useful as well. Sometimes they trumped even the imaginary tales. 

"I collect tales and I can offer a fair trade," she added.
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Wraen was a collector of stories, she said, and Slavik wondered if the treasures she sought were thus. He too found them interesting, but by no means was a collector. Though he had plenty of tales to tell, whether he improvise them or if they are real stories told to him by wolf or life experience. He decided on one that his parents had often told him. Ok, I got one, he said his tail swaying across the grassy ground. My parents used to tell me stories about how when wolves died, they become other things.

They believe that there is no after life, just new life. When I was little they used to tell this one story about the wolf and the mouse, based off of that belief. They said that there once was a wolf. A big powerful wolf with an evil heart. He was cruel to all living things, from prey to other wolves. He lived his life making other animals suffer, and when he got old he got very sick. The day he died a mouse came into his den and was like, “what’s up?” And the wolf was like, “nothing much just dying”, those weren’t the exact words his parents had used, but this was Slavik’s rendition.

so the mouse was a really nice mouse, and it wanted to make the wolf happy on his last day. So it left the den and came back with a flower. “This is for you! To make your last day brighter” he said, but the wolf just laughed and said, “you know what would make me feel great little bro? Killing you!” So out of spite the wolf picked up the mouse and flung him about, killing him cruelly before devouring him with bloody gnashing teeth. That night the evil wolf died, quietly in his sleep. Slavik paused before continuing.

 A year passed and the mouse who had brought the evil wolf a flower was reborn as a wolf. One day when he was walking through the forest he came across a tiny mouse, who just so happened to be the evil wolf from before. He looked at the tiny mouse, who looked at him, and then BAM! He ate him. Slavik put emphasis on the bam, stomping his paws in time. That‘s it basically, the moral was that no matter how big or how small, your actions affect your future, so do good and you’ll be rewarded, do bad and things might not turn out how you’d like, he said and then shrugged. I always liked the part with the bam, my dad would scare us and we’d laugh for ages. Not sure the message really got across when we were kids, but we still loved the story.

Your turn though, I want to hear what a real storyteller has to share.
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"You would get along famously with my younger sister Maia - she has a similar style of story-telling," Wraen remarked, when Slavik had finished. She had been attentive all the time and had chuckled around the "what's up?" moment and had jumped a little, when the "bam" had happened. All in all - a simple moral, wrapped in a cozy blanket of creativity. 

"I will tell you a story about the Bird king," she said, basing her choice on the fact that this dashing fellow could easily be one of the characters. "Once upon a time two brothers set out from their home to seek luck and fortune in the world. And after a while they came to a large oak tree in the cross-roads. They argued a bit about which road to take and then decided to split up and each take one. But, before they went their separate ways, they each left a heft scratch mark in the bark of the oak-tree. They agreed to meet come here again a year later. If the scratch mark is nice and clear, the brother is doing well. If blood seeps from it, then they are in trouble and need help," she paused. The part about bleeding oak tree had always puzzled her, but maybe it was something trees did in fairy tales.

"The older brother walked for a long time and decided to take a rest next to a beautiful forest. He was about to begin a meal, when a lame crow hopped out from the grass and approached him, asking to give some food to him as well, because he was old and frail. The older brother did not take kindly to the beggar, snarled and shooed it away, saying that, if he came back again, he would eat it on the spot," Wraen was not sure, if this part had been in the actual story, when she had heard it for the first time, but decided that it did not hurt to improvise a little. After all Slavik had no way of knowing that. 

"After his meal the older brother fell asleep, only to wake up later at night to the sound of the most beautiful song in the world. He followed it into the forest, taking notice that, while there were a lot of trees, flowers and other plants, there were not another living soul there. But the singing was so overpowering, that he forgot about his doubts. He came into a clearing, where he saw a large bird with feathers of gold and fire. The brother did not waste much time, he pounced at the bird, eager to capture it, but it flew up in the air, hit the wolf with it's wing and turned it into a tree," she finished the first part.

"Any questions up to this point?" she asked to give her audience and herself a little break.

The story is not entirely mine, but based on several folk-tales I have read as a kid.
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Slavik smiled, glad that his acquaintance liked his childhood tale. She mentioned that he'd get along with her younger sister, and he wondered if she lived at Sunspire too. All the wolves from that pack seemed to have their own flairs, and he liked it.

She began her story about a bird king, though it started out about two wolves. Or so he thought. As she continued on it crossed his mind that maybe the brothers were birds, but he put his foolish thought aside as he didn't want to bother her by asking. He raised his eyebrows when she said the tree would bleed. Neato, he added, imagining a tree seeping blood. Scary, but neato.

She continued on the story, her storytelling was much better than his. She was very interesting to listen to, he found himself entrapped in the tale. She would certainly be a master in her craft, while Slavik would likely only hit dad storytelling level. He finally decided for certain that the main characters were in fact wolves, and was confirmed when she said it herself. But then he wasn't a wolf anymore, he turned into a tree. That was even crazier than the bloody tree. He chuckled and shook his head when she asked for questions, that must've sucked, he said, his tail swishing across the lush turf of the meadow.
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#21
Pack Activity 
"After a while the second brother arrived to the oak tree and saw that the mark his brother had left was covered in blood and meant that he was in deep trouble. The second brother did not waste any time and just on the fringes of the odd forest, he managed to catch a rabbit. And since he had walked long and far, he decided to take a rest and have a meal. That was, when the same old crow appeared and pleaded for some food. The second brother felt sorry for the bird and shared some of his food. 

Once the crow had finished, it started to ask questions about the brother's travels and what was he doing so close to the Bird King's home? So, the brother told him everything and after some contemplation the crow plucked out a feather from his tail and gave him to the brother, saying: "Take this feather and keep it in your jaws, when you enter the Bird King's home. He is able to sing the most beautiful song in the world and thus has lured many people in, but this feather will help you to keep your mind clear. Go and hide, and when it falls asleep, steal the crown from his head and crush it. That is, where it keeps it magic."

The second brother thanked the crow for the advice, picked up the feather and entered the forest. It was still early, therefore the king was not yet home and our hero had plenty of time to find a good place to hide. At sundown the king arrived, singing the most beautiful song in the world and, though the young brother's heart yearned to go closer and see the divine being for himself, he clutched the crow's feather firmly in his jaws and did not give in. 

When the moon had rised, the King stopped his song, hid his beak under his wing and fell asleep. That's, when the second brother went out and stole the crown from the bird's head. The moment he crushed it in his jaws, the bird woke with a mournful cry and burst in flames. And when the last of the ash had settled, the stones began to come to life one after the other. And among the many other beasts, the second brother spotted his own. Each of them greeted the other with as much love and affection and from this point on they decided never to part and face the world together,"
she came to a close, but with a sly smile she added another thing. "And they had great many adventures, but these are for a stories another time."

"I do think though, that it would be easer to do, if we gave the brothers names? Do you have suggestions?" she asked Slavik.
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Slavik listened contently for the remained of the story, reacting expressively to the twists and turns. Somehow the moral was similar to his own tale, if you really picked it apart. Doing kind things now will make things turn out better in the future. It seemed karma was a common theme of the stories they'd spun. However Wraen's story was thought out far better, and was way more exciting than a wolf eating a mouse and then the mouse eating the wolf. He smiled and nodded at the imagery of the bird king exploding into flame, just cause it sounded cool.

She left him hanging, offering that there was more but that it was for another time. He wondered if he would ever hear more of the two brothers who defeated the bird king, he hoped he would. In other words, he hoped this wouldn't be the last time he saw Wraen. She asked him what the brothers names should be, and he narrowed his eyes as he thought. How bout... he trailed off as he tried to come up with something great. I think the dumb one that got into trouble should be Boar, cause you know he's reckless. And the other brother should be Fox, because he was clever, he suggested, then added, Though I was never sure why people say foxes are clever cause they always seemed kind of stupid to me.
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#23
"Boar and Fox, very well," Wraen smiled, when she felt the names on her tongue. They weren't her first choice, but she had asked for an input and she was going to respect it.

"I think that there are sharp and blunt sticks in every pile of wood," she replied, referring to the saying "not the sharpest stick in the drawer", which she would know in form of a wolfish equivalent. Because drawers were abstract things to a person, who was not familiar to furniture in general. 

"So, Slavik - it was nice running into you and have this delightful exchange," she said, getting to her feet and stretching. "But I have some stuff to do and it has to be done now, if I am to return home before nightfall. If you happen to be around Sunspire - call for me, maybe we can spin some more stories."

Last post from me - thank you for the thread!
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Wraen agreed to the names Slavik threw out there, he was glad he could contribute somehow to her tales. He nodded in contemplation of her next statement about sharp and blunt sticks in every pile. He wasn’t sure he got the reference, but it seemed deep and Wraen seemed like an intellectual. He decided that by the next time they met, he would have a metaphor to share with her as well, something to match her unique way of thinking. And then their conversation came to an end, Wraen had things to do.

He smiled and stood as well, stretching out his long limbs as she said her goodbyes. I will, and next time I’ll have an even better one for you, he said with a boyish grin. Then he turned and continued on his way, hoping to shroud himself further in the scents of the meadow.

loved this thread <3
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