Stavanger Bay blackwood farm

backdated a few days to the night she's kicked out of Donnelaith! I know @Skellige was interested! ;)

Her wandering brings her far from the Plateau and she is drawn towards the Bay. The crash of the seas and the spray in the air is comforting to her, it's presence is steady and stable and soothing. The white witch hasn't let herself think for too long because she knows what's coming. Eventually Rowan will be overcome by emotion but she wants to do so alone, safe to her thoughts, with nothing else but silence around her. 

Before when she had visited the Bay there was nothing there but the earth and the sea, their love affair long standing, stable. The lifeforms that are so fortunate to experience both entities are strange looking but tonight there is a new presence. Beneath the moon's gentle rays she notices it. Before no one was present, now, there are scents of many. The witch is quiet and still, a distance from the heaviest of the scents but still nearby. 

She's curious, but really, she just wants to be anywhere that isn't Donnelaith. 

The scent that had reached him was one that was familiar and so he had turned to it with every intention of intercepting it. The wraith had made his claim on the bay, and he had been certain that there would be wolves from the neighboring pack who would have sought answers on his borders. He had remained near the edges of the pack in hopes of coming across them before arguments were had with his pack members. When the female had found herself on the edges of Blackrock, she had done so with tact and had waited far enough that she did not appear to be trespassing.
 
Once the leviathan caught sight of her form, he thought it might have been Deirdre and he felt his heart skip like a hammer in his chest for the briefest of moments. When rationality took hold, he realized that it was not the young witch of the wood, but another… one who was older and who bore the weight of a heavy soul. The moon overhead appeared to play with the tufts of fur along her neck and shoulders, causing the pallid woman to appear ethereal. If she had not carried the scent of the forest on her pelt, Skellige would have thought it to have been his sister; the inky brute still expected Ksenia’s arrival on his borders, but he was not certain when.
 
Lifting his crown upward and peering at the stranger with narrowed brows and burning russet eyes, the sea king flagged his tail once. “Looking for something?” his baritone struck the night air with a rumble that began from within his chest and exited his mouth with a surprising amount of force. There was an inquisitive breath to his words, but it was clear that he was fiercely protective of the land he walked on.

Yay!

They were so close. It was as palpable as a scent in the air, and Atoll found herself restless in the wonder of it. Soon, the Sea would come up and bless their land, and then none would be able to take it from them. They would have a home, a special place to live and prosper. Perhaps, Skellige willing, she and Szymon would be able to settle down and a conceive a brood of their own with which to bless the bay.

Such thoughts swirled like the midnight mists rolling in from the vigilant sea; Atoll had found that no matter what hour she woke, the waves were already busy. Thus, she knew that she could never truly be alone. Even in the small hours, the sea kept her company.

But there was another out tonight. The name to the scent that reached her on wind was Skellige, and her paws began moving without another thought. If he wanted to be left alone, she would gladly depart. Otherwise, it would please her to bask in the company of her Leviathan - so rarely did she get his presence all to herself. He'd been busy lately, preparing for the blessing just as she had been. But now, she knew they could rest. Everything was ready, and the time was nearly upon them. Perhaps now, they could have a few quite moments alone. After all that they'd done to get to this day, she felt the need to reaffirm her connection to the Sea King.

It would not be so, however. When Atoll caught sight of her alpha, it was to see him facing a pallid shewolf. Not sylphlike Deirdre, but another - one whose scent Atoll could not quite place... but that did not mean she could not learn something from it. The milk-sweet smell that tickled her nose made her more curious than ever, and she padded quietly up beside her Leviathan, nose twitching in time with her ears.

She, too, was curious about what a pregnant wolf of Donnelaith might be doing at their borders.

The sound of the sea had taken her far away, so far past the dark male who felt somehow responsible for her and her young even though he had put up no resistance to casting her out. Far from the white female who was so jealous of her young that for a fleeting moment she'd considered striking the witch down and stealing her cubs. Far from the absence of Lasher, far from his precious pale daughter and her infallible sense of good, far from everything. The tide rose and swept her worries away bit by bit and the witch was pleased to convene with nature. It was recharging, in a sense, and the pale woman closed her eyes and let herself be carried far away. 

A scent approaching made her return to focus, her gaze turning to view the approaching male. She lowered her head respectfully, silver eyes flashing for a moment in the silver rays of the moon. "No, sir, just listening to the sea." She said quietly. "I apologize - I didn't realize someone was setting up camp along the shores. I've always found it so peaceful here." Rowan explained. She met his eyes for a moment, offering the smallest smile. "I'm Rowan."

Before long another figure approached and Rowan offered the same differed politeness. "Good evening." 

The inky titan drew his lengthy ears forward as the woman spoke respectfully to him, though the silver of her gaze did flash to his face once, he allowed her the curious glance. The sea had drawn her to his borders, but he still found himself confused; did she not belong to the wild wood of Donnelaith. For the scent of the forest druids still clung heavily to her pelt and he anticipated that it had not been long that she walked among the tree trunks.
 
Approaching steps caused his head to sharply turn and his gaze flickered across Doe for a moment – his dutiful Atoll. The pale witch had turned to greet the witch doctor with a polite tone and Skellige flicked his eyes back to the newly introduced Rowan without speaking a word to his beta. Knowing that she was there was enough – the flighty creature had done well to tend to the borders, and had the sea not chosen her, he would have assigned her as a reefer to guard over the land for intruders. It had seemed that no matter who had come to their borders, the Atoll had been quick to greet them. She was the buffer for his lack of social capabilities.
 
“Rowan, you smell of Donnelaith… were you simply stepping away from your home?” the titan then inquired of the pale woman. She had spoken that she did not know of the bay’s claim, but he was not interested in excuses. The leviathan was interested in the idea that she had been lured to the sea. Perhaps the waters spoke to her as well.

The sea spoke soothing words; Rowan was no threat to them. It was enough for Atoll, and it seemed to be enough for the Leviathan as well. The Blackrock beta let her tail lash once, twice in greeting before looking back to Skellige, ears quirking as he questioned her further. His tone seemed gentler than she was acustomed to; Did he also sense the new life that surrounded the Donnelaith woman?

Atoll peered speculatively at her pale, unswollen sides. The smell was only faint upon her. It was possible she'd just been around another pregnant shewolf, but Atoll did not think so. There was a glow about her that had nothing to do with the moonlight.

Further interested in the pale wolf's business here, Atoll gave enough encouraging wag of her tail and swivelled her ears attentively. Ready to listen!

Rowan breathed out slowly, the salt on the air filling her. She'd always had a strong connection to the earth itself and the ocean was no different. The dark male and the paler woman at her side almost made her nervous - only because it was reminiscent of the appearance of Constantine and Aria. She did not bristle, however, and she did not flinch. 

The truth of the matter was quickly discussed and Rowan's face fell a little. Only hours as a loner and she still couldn't process the feeling - it was a real and raw sort of thing. "I am no longer a wolf of Donnelaith." There was a clear sort of disappointment in her tone. "Aria - the Alpha - saw fit to dismiss me because I carry the former Alpha's children. He has passed away and he left the pack to her." Rowan explained. She didn't go into further details, though she surely could have. She didn't feel the need to be petty though.

A part of her wanted to lash out, wanted to rant and wail but she did not know these wolves. She felt honor bound in a sense however, given that she had stumbled upon their lands - even if she had not known it. "Forgive me if I'm a tad...shell shocked. It's been just a couple hours." She admitted. 

As the female explained that she no longer belonged to Donnelaith, Skellige watched as her expression seemed to fall and her words carried a strange sort of heaviness to them. When she went on to explain that she carried the previous alpha’s puppies inside of her, his brows lifted somewhat and he thought for a moment of the crying Deirdre on the beach. The girl had been attacked by a coywolf stranger and he had arrived just in time to rip the creature’s tail from his body and send him running along the coast. Deirdre had wept to him about her father through the night and he had felt how heavy her heart had been over his loss. It was surprising to the brute to hear that this wolf was pregnant with the former alpha’s children. It did explain why she had been thrown from the pack, though. Jealousy bred evil beings.
 
Though her story was a sad one, the titan did not express any sympathy for her; Skellige did not see how it would do her much good. She was already in a state of disarray and without a home. If she were to have a complete stranger feed into the sadness of her story, it would only lessen her as an individual. Instead, he thought of what the pale forest wolf would do – what Deirdre would say about this Rowan being thrown from the ranks of Donnelaith and all the while carrying children inside of her.
 
“Donnelaith does not sound like the pack Deirdre described to me,” he growled distastefully, wondering if the pale girl had led him astray. She had painted the woods to be something of a peaceful home and he had anticipated that the healers inside were not creatures of childish endeavors. Evidently, he had been wrong. Brows furrowed into a tight knot, the brute thought of the puppies who would bear a relation to Deirdre and he wondered how she felt about them being cast out of her home. She had not come to speak to him so he did not know how she stood on the matter. “I have room in my ranks for another… and children, but my customs may not be agreeable to you,” he then decided to offer with a short shrug of his broad shoulders.

Answers to her unasked queries were forthcoming - Yes, she was pregnant, and forced to flee from Donnelaith or face the wrath of Aria. Atoll drew up a picture of the pale alpha's face, and fitted the name into the blank space that had previously been attached to the image. Aria, alpha of Donnelaith, chaser of pregnant shewolves, fearer of the Blackrock wolves. Somehow, she seemed less beauitful, now.

At Skellige's mention of an opening in their ranks, the Blackrock beta's head lifted from the sympathetic slump it'd found itself in, and her mouth opened to speak just as her Leviathan added his caution to the veiled offer. Ah. No, the customs would probably not be agreeable to anyone who'd found sanctuary in Donnelaith - but perhaps the danger that wraught her situation would cause her to consider it. Atoll hoped so; it was always good to have pups around, and she liked the idea of having an experienced mother among their ranks when it came time for her or for Deirdre to bear young.

Looking hopefully at the other female, Atoll simply wagged her tial once more, hoping she would accept the Drop as the necessary danger that it was.

For a moment she could not argue what Skellige said. What Lasher had instilled in his lands was not what Aria was upholding, first with wanting them to fight and then with dismissing her with Lasher's children. The secret threatened to spill from her time and time again but she stilled her tongue and tried to be stable. "It is very different from the days that Lasher walked the earth." The woman said quietly. "Deirdre - my niece, or cousin I guess you could say, is such a bright light in the world....she couldn't see the bad in something if she tried." But it was said with a smile, a bright one, at the thought of the young woman. 

She wished to ease some of his concerns - that for Deirdre, this is all new, all different. The thought came to her that she needed to see the girl, to tell her that she was no longer welcome in the forest. Rowan drew in a breath but it was gone in a quick whoosh the moment that the dark male said she would be welcome among them. "That...that is very kind of you. I have family in Silver Creek, and my hope is for my children to grow up with their siblings - if it cannot be Deirdre and the Mayfairs of Donnelaith I will go to Silver Creek." She said gently. She wanted to make it known how grateful she was of the offer, even if there was a hidden caveat. It was unexpected, and a part of her did not want to close this door. 

"May I know about these customs?" It was so close to the forest, and perhaps she should settle down near the forest. Her children could know the lands, know Deirdre. It left her hopeful, at least, but she thought of Casmir - of how excited he was and how he was already settling into fatherhood. "It was your lovely sea that commanded me when I first came to these lands. I was found here, lead back to my family. She is a beautiful keeper." Rowan murmured, the slightest hint of reverence in her tone. 

There was a moment where irritation seemed to flicker inside of him. The emotion was not directed at Rowan, but surprisingly had found itself festering upon Deirdre. The pale witch had been kind to the wolves of the bay and had come when Skellige had called to her, but he found himself discrediting many of the things she had told him. The girl had spoken of her intention to speak to her leadership about his claim over the territory next to their own – she had not done this. She had told him that the forest pack was a peaceful place filled with wolves who sought to heal and to help those around them – somehow they had condemned the female carrying their former alpha’s pups. There came a moment inside of him where he wondered if she had spoken a true word at all or if she was merely living on dreams. The frustration was enough for him to cast Deirdre from his mind; if she should wish to explain, she would know where to find him.
 
Rowan explained that she had family elsewhere – in a creek of some sort that he had not heard of – and that she had wished for her children to be raised around familiar faces. A thoughtful frown creased his inky face and he shrugged a shoulder in a lackadaisical manner. “They would be close to Deirdre and the others if they resided here… but they are your children and the decision is your own,” he grumbled with furrowed brows. If the pale creature had wished for her pups to be nearer to the man who had conceived them, departing for the creek seemed a strange option. Skellige found that the wolves of Donnelaith were an odd bunch.
 
When the woman went on to inquire about his customs, the titan glanced toward Doe with a frown and wondered if it was wise to share the ways of their people with passersby. The concern was cast aside in favor of his own pride, and Skellige lifted his skull upward, boring into her features with dark mahogany eyes. “You are with children. My people practice the ritual called the drop. In order to test the strength of a child and to know if the sea will accept and bless them, they are dropped into the ocean when they are able to walk firmly. If they make it to shore, they are granted their role within the pack. If they do not…” he paused for a moment, flicking a single ear sideways to catch the crashing of the waves, “they are worthy sacrifices.” Surely a healer of Donnelaith would find the custom to be appalling, but she had asked and he was relatively transparent for a beast with very little social construct.  

Had Atoll known the dark thoughts her Leviathan was beginning to feel toward the girl she thought might be his beloved, she might've either quailed right then and there, or else jumped up in defense of the pale and absent beauty, begging him to understand and forgive her for all their sakes, damn it! Didn't he see what was at stake?

As it was, she merely felt disappointment that the custom had been spoken so cleanly and clearly; there was no way to twist it around, lead Rowan to misinterpretation. Doubtlessly, she would depart with her garden, and Atoll would have to devise some other means by which to fill their home with the yaps of young pups.

Not an altogether unpleasant notion, at that.

"We live a blessed life here," she offered, softening her eyes toward the woman. "The strength of any child raised among us is nearly assured, and the sea will take only what she feels is necessary. If we serve her faithfully, and do not quail, perhaps she will not feel the need to pull the young to her teat. But either way, we are blessed."

To Atoll, it was no different than all the other things that often took the lives of pups, and perhaps a step up from the futileness of death. It would be better to cast a child into the Heart of the Sea than to wake up and find them the mangled leftovers of a lucky predator's meal.

Rowan nodded to his words, looking towards the sea to watch it crash on the shore. Deirdre would benefit from having them close, Rowan was certain of that, but, there was a part of her who trusted so much in Casmir that she had to at least see him she had to follow through. To some the practice was barbaric. For Rowan, this was just a life. "They would survive."  Rowan said firmly. "The generations of witches that have come before them would not lead me here to have them claimed by your sea. They will be too strong for that." 

If Deirdre had gotten so comfortable with these wolves to be honest with them this would not be news. The witch had confidence in not only herself but her children. They would not be claimed by the drop - she would not have endured so much only to see them perish. "In the future, when I am more able bodied, I will be certain to repair the kindness shown to me this night."  Whst she could provide in the mean time was her own strengths and practices, offering the strength of her Magick to bless their beginning. 

There was no fear in her that they would succumb to such wolves as Donnelaith. Not anymore. The peaceful pack no matter how far they strayed from their origins would not be enough to topple these wolves. She could tell it. 

The pale Mayfair seemed to accept the idea of their custom with a confidence that her children would survive the plunge into the depths. She spoke so surely that even the titan believed the pups would survive the drop and would find their way safely to shore. At once, Doe chimed in with her respectful view on the ritual, and Skellige nodded his head in agreement to the Atoll’s words. She had come to know the ways of the Warsaw wolves with a keen eye and an open mind; the witch doctor was a blessing on their lands.
 
Rowan then made a promise of sorts to return the kindness that had been shown to her. The leviathan tilted his head to the side and frowned thoughtfully to the woman. It was not a matter of showing kindness – at least, not to him. The words that he had shared with the Mayfair wolf were simple enough, and while Doe would have thought that he had shown the pregnant woman a gentler hand than others who had trailed so close to their borders, Skellige had merely been providing information. Though he was a superstitious wolf and a man who was ruled very heavily by his beliefs, the titan had a strong sense of rationality. The best decision was to give the information on the depths to this female and to anticipate that – if the sea should call to her – she would be forced to answer.
 
Drawing his muzzle upward slightly, Skellige peered at her. “You would do well to answer the call of the sea, Rowan Mayfair. She is beautiful but unforgiving,” he offered to her with a small nod. It was a simple truth; the waves echoed his statement by crashing against the sands with a rumble. What more was there to say to the forest witch? If she had made up her mind, there was no amount of convincing that could take place. But the hours were growing late and it would be time for the brute to depart soon enough. 

Atoll's ears flickered in approval at Rowan's words, and her eyes dropped once more to gaze appreciatively at the pale wolf's belly. Good pups, witch pups, said a voice that she hardly recognized anymore. The sensible voice had been chief among her advisors, lately, and she'd almost forgotten how different the poisonous voice tended to sound. You're still far from achieving anything like that. If Skellige grants you your mate, you'll still have to wait until your heat, and then months longer to have the fruit of any coupling - if there's fruit at all. Atoll or not, you don't have the dominance to back up the title - and weak wolves always bear small broods.

And, even if all goes in your favor - against nature - they will still carry your poor genes. Small boys, pointy-faced girls - and not a witch bone in their body. What a pity.

The voice continued to torment her, tease her. Atoll knew that if Rowan would not bless the bay with her brood, Atoll would have to do it for her.

"Silver Creek, you said?" she asked with polite and open interest, bringing the witch back to the place she'd mentioned earlier. "I've never heard of it - which way is that?"

She only knew of one pack other than her own and Donnelaith's - and she'd passed by it months ago, on while she wound her way toward the coast.

To her eyes, after the repulsive behavior of those that had pledged to tend to her and she to them, Skelliege had provided her a kindness. He had not attacked her, nor had he dismissed her in her time of need. Doe was equally patient with her, and the pale witch drew a moment of comfort from their actions. It was different here, it was a sensation that she couldn't quite place. If she came here, if Silver Creek did not accept her, she would thrive and so would her children. They would overcome the Drop, they would make it and be reborn, blessed by the sea. 

It might not be their fate, and Rowan had a nagging sensation that her children would not be born so close to their own lands. 

She nodded as the wraith spoke, looking towards the sea as it crashed and called. It's ebb and flow pulled her soul and she longed to anoint herself in the waters of the sea, to wash away Donnelaith and it's scent and leave her fresh and new. Her pale eyes flashed for a moment, the silver flashing at the idea. "Perhaps it is how things will be." She wouldn't reject the concept. Maybe it would be better, even. Perhaps worse. If she and the children were so close to Donnelaith, who was to say that Aria wouldn't come for them? 

Her thoughts abruptly shifted and she faced Doe again, turning towards the rise as Casmir had done. "Far off - that little chain of mountains out there." She said. "I've never been out there, but I believe it will take a couple days at my pace." 

I'm sorry you two! I'm going to pull Skellige out of this one since he's just going to be the equivalent of an awkward sidecar if he sticks around. <33 You're both more than welcome to continue on.

 

It had seemed that the pale wolf was intending to find herself on the edges of a creek pack. The wraith could not say that it was a home that he would have sought for himself, but the Mayfair wolves had proven that they were considerably different from the Cairn family. Instead of chastising her for her actions and decisions, he thought it best to hold his tongue and refrain from its barbed lashings. He would be able to speak to Deirdre and tell her that their conversation was amicable enough and that he had indeed offered her a place to live and to raise her pups where they would be close to the home she had intended for them. To think that she would pull Lasher’s unborn kin away from the forest that he had named a sanctuary – well, it was not his decision or Deirdre’s to make. He had done what he needed to do and it was time for him to move forward.
 
Once Doe inquired about Silver Creek and the whereabouts of the pack that Rowan intended for herself, Skellige turned his head in the direction that they were gesturing toward before he frowned faintly. The creek pack would not be one that he would find himself frequenting; it was stretched too far from the sea and her glory, and he could not stand to lead his body away again. Knowing that Doe was the conversationalist, the inky titan opted to pull himself from their friendly talks of location and things that he could not force himself to be verbose about.
 
Once he had found a lull in their exchange, he nodded his head to the women and bid them both a stiff farewell. If the Mayfair woman had decided that she would return at some point, he would be willing still to take her in so that Deirdre would have half-siblings close by. If she did not wish to ever find herself near the shore again, it was the sea’s bidding – he would not argue with that. Trekking through the sands, the leviathan set about working to build up their borders and did not think again of Rowan Mayfair or Doe on the edges of his bay.  

I completely forgot about this! So sorry guys. Let's get this closed up, @Rowan Mayfair

When Skellige left, Atoll had to force herself to remain. The woman was enchanting, and the distant promise of pups even more so, but she wished more than anything just to be near to her master in the dark of this night. 

Even so, she stayed behind to see Rowan off, not feeling that it would be smart or polite to leave an outsider unattended at the borders.

"Do you need anything to make the journey?" she asked, not wanting to leave the burgeoning mother without the means to survive the journey. Food, herbs, even a quick groom - all that, Atoll could and would provide. She had an interest in the future of this woman and her pups, and wished for that to be made known. "I will try and keep a place for you here, if you change your mind," she confided, hoping that Skellige would agree. He'd seemed approving of the woman, after all.

thank you guys!

Rowan offered a nod as the male left the area - leaving the two females to whatever it was that they would do. If the Creek did not offer her a home she would return, and perhaps it would be the spirits will that way. She would be able to raise the children near Lasher's lands and be able to keep them familiar with their family but still she had to do as she had told Casmir. When Doe spoke Rowan offered her a brief smile. 

"I have a companion for the journey, but, I appreciate your concern." She said genuinely. She wouldn't be able to give much for now, though, she could hope their good fortune would continue. Rowan made her way back from the lands and towards the Plateau - unaware that Constantine had already headed towards the Creek.