Stavanger Bay archaic

Gulls wheeled and danced, gleeful cries echoing off the rocks. Far above them soared a raptor, and among them hopped sure-footed ravens, silent as the hopped near, driven back by the gulls as they fought. The woman knew the signs of a body, and she picked her way over the rocks with a quiet grace as she drew near, fur pulled and tugged by the wind, gaze intent. The gulls wheeled away, screaming now, as her approach had them scatter. The ravens, bolder and smarter, waited silently on the rocks nearby, knowing very well that their turn would come. 

The witch's gaze travelled up and down the mangled thing at her feet, the pale bones, bleached flesh, the smell of brine and rot. A wolf's skull; the canines and slope of the muzzle made that much obvious. Flesh and tendons clung to the corpse, accompanied by scattered bits of flesh and fur; dark in colour. Fur and bones lay scattered too on the rocks, evidence that the body had been here for a time. Wordlessly, Thelxiope placed the onyx stone on the skull, chanting softly as she stepped back, words that slid from her tongue in a near-chaotic, soft stream of ancient words. She lapsed into silence, rites complete, watching carefully the body that the sea had disgorged and wondered at the circumstances of the bodies death, and just how it had come to be stranded on the rocks.

hope you don't mind if i steal this ❤

he lingers by the shore thoughtfully, but would not plan to stay had he not noticed the odd woman's movements. like she, he'd intuited the presence of a corpse but was not compelled to check - death is not of particular interest to him. but the woman is performing something, he thinks: he cannot hear her exactly but golden-rose'd eyes trace the delicacy of her movements, trying to discern without interruption their meanings.

curiosity moves him closer, careful to wait until she is finished with whatever ritual she is conducting. with the distance between them thinned he can see the details of the body. he does not feel moved, his focus instead on that of the living. "a shame," he murmurs smoothly, watching her. "what were you offering - blessings, a farewell?"

Not at all! Thanks for joining

She thinks him a scavenger, at first, but a twist of her head reveals him to be a wolf; not a hapless coyote or fox. A pretty wolf; at that, finely formed and handsome. His words come softly, curiously, and she replies in kind, her words lyrical as she replies, "both. they are final rites; a life should be honoured, even the long-faded and unfamiliar." She watches him, the ravens; sensing that the wolves no longer take an interest in the body, hop closer, wings rustling in annoyance. 

He smells of others; not only salt and wind and sea, as she does and has for so long now. This alone has her interest peaked, she knows they are some who settle on the coast, but has never sought them ought. She doesn't remark on this quite yet, but it lingers in the back of her mind as she turns toward the sea, adding, "someone, somewhere must care; for them, in part, I do this."  It is an ill topic to discuss upon first meeting, death, but here they are in the face of it.  

 as she speaks he takes the time to study her features - delicately crafted as if she is woven from the sand herself, a figure made of glass. "ah," samothes says, eyes flicking briefly to the corpse as the ravens move in closer. the birds hold more interest to him than the long-dead creature - he's always liked the fickle-hearted ravens, which are cleverer than most of their kind.

 samothes' gaze returns to the fey as she speaks again. it is a point of view he's rarely considered, but she's right: someone must have mourned this corpse, once. he looks back at it, re-evaluating - he catches the still-clinging patches of black fur, stark against it's bones. it reminds him of something.

he doesn't say anything for a moment, only hums softly in response. "it's kind of you," the scholar finally allows, though he still hesitates at the need for such rites. he is not a particularly superstitious creature. "i am samothes - samothes messeda," he introduces after a moment, interested in finding out more about her and not the corpse. his surname he drops without thinking - here in this new land it holds no weight, but habit forces it on his tongue anyway. ah, well - there's still pride in it, even if it serves mostly as decoration these days.

It is kind of her, she supposes, though she performs that act because it is what she was taught. To leave a body alone seems wrong, somehow, a shell of life left forgotten. Perhaps it is but a shell, but it was animated with spirit, once, and it is this she honours. The male moves on from the topic of death, something she is glad for, and she steps away from the body, the ravens, clever things, hopping near. He offers his name, and she tries it on her tongue, deciding quickly that she likes it. "samothes."  she hums a soft note of approval at it, before continuing. "I am thelxiope. healer, naturalist, traveller" she says by way of introduction. she is other things, carries other titles, but does not add these to her quick introduction, believing them better left out. She wonders still at the scents on his pelt, but holds her tongue, first her intention lies only in learning more of the male before her.

he is plainly relieved to leave the topic of the dead behind, for his interest is still in her, the living flesh. "thelxiope," samothes repeats as she did for his own name - it is complex and a little sharp. he likes it. "useful skills, those," he adds with a slight smile - not quite - at least intentional - flirtation but charming still, "i myself am a scholar - tactician, advisor. and a traveller - though perhaps not so much, now." now that he's found a place to lay root and make himself known - and even if constantine's vision does not come to pass, samothes thinks he will stay a while. he is not quite a vagrant spirit but someone quickly bored of limitations, and so far the teekons seem to offer him what he wants: limitless possibility.

a soft smile softens the angular plains of her face, and her feathery tail brushes the rocks behind her. "ah," she begins, understanding and connecting the scents on his fur to his words. "you have found a place, then. a pack?" she has never been part of a pack, unless one could call the small group of her adoptive mentor and sister such. her interest and hers differ; and yet are undoubtedly similar. Her interest in the male only grows as their conversation continues, the body in the back of her mind, now. She can not deny the inauspiciousness of a meeting in the face of death, but ignored this for now.

he moves a step closer - not to infringe on her personal space, but as if drawing her into being his co-conspirator, a mischevious smile playing his mouth. "something along those lines," he agrees: "there is one newly fledging in ravensblood forest, east from here. the claim is staked but not made official yet."

samothes hums, rose-tinted eyes cast back out across the shore in thought. "i was an alpha's child - my bloodline has a legacy. it's quite refreshing to instead witness the birth of a new legacy." though peace and love were his family's priorities, nevertheless the creeping lines of their dynasty felt, at times, suffocating. he was unlike his dear samaantine who took to their home with ease - his decision to slip away had been easy for him. finally he straightens slightly, drawing his attention back to his beguiling new company. "and yourself, thelxiope?" he asks. "do you intend to keep travelling for-ever?" it is not a question designed to position him as a recruiter: merely he is curious, somewhat enchanted by her company, and all-too aware of winter's descent around them.

He shifts closer to her, smiling a conspirators grin, and her own smile dances still on her muzzle. Samothes confirms what she knows, and she hums contemplatively a moment, thinking the name rather dark, repeating it curiously. "ravensblood. why is it named so?" she wonders aloud, glancing to the male as he continues.  He speaks next of legacies, and she understands, in part; not an alpha's child, but one of the few under the mentorship of her aging parent-figure, one of the few to play hosts to her vast knowledge. A part of her legacy.  "it would be most interesting to witness such a birth," she agrees thoughtfully, never quite having thought of a founding pack like that before.

"I can hardly wander forever; not with winter approaching. it is cold here in the north, I am told, and harsh. I will find a place," she admits, canting a lode towards the male with interest. "can you tell me of  your place?" it seems as good a place as any, perhaps better Samothes is one of them. 

*phone posts* apologies for any typos!

she inquires about the name of the forest - samothes hmms, thoughtful. it seems the fey woman is intrigued as he was, though, and a slight thrill runs through him. "i admit i'm unsure," he answers her, sort of a 'what-can-you-do' look in his eyes, "i believe the name pre-dates the founder, constantine's claim." that is his guess at least. the name does seem a tad macabe but it rather suits the air of the dark-furred leader, he thinks.

his smile broadens as thelxiope confesses to looking for a place. ah, smart woman, like he: winter alone is an unwise gamble. inexplicably he finds her company quite charming and he is pleased at the possibility of her coming to join him, though he does not voice such thoughts so soon. "it seems small, yet, but firmly entrenched. i don't know him well but constantine seems firm in his convictions, and i admire that." he pauses, then dares add teasingly: "the forest itself is quite dark - but welcoming enough, and with the right company.."

The woman listens quietly as he speaks, deciding that she likes what she hears; a smaller pack is to her preference. So long alone, or with few close companions, does not make for a social butterfly. She must and will adapt to pack life, but slowly. Her thought is interrupted briefly by an erne as it alights nearby, scattering the crows noisily as it claims the carcass. Her gaze is quick to slide back to Samothes, however, and her gaze glints with something not immediately distinguishable. "is not the darkest wood made light?" She replies in turn, a smile softening her features again. The male has surely sparked her interest, that much is evident as she looks to him now. Her gaze turns back to the sky, briefly, and when it returns to Samothes she has made up her mind. "I must leave you now, Samothes. but I will find you again, and Ravensblood, too."  She has much to do before the first frost, and joining a pack will tether her to a single territory. She is confident that she has found a winter home, joined somewhat out of need but also because of the male before her.  

wrap here i think! thank you for the lovely thread<3

a tiny thrill of pleasure rings him when she finishes his playful thought. thelxiope's company is stimulating in a way samothes' has missed -- he tries not to consider himself superior to most others, but all the same... and though their talk was brief, the taste of it leaves him wanting more. "quite," he murmurs, his lips curving into a smile. when she agrees to find him again - find ravensblood, the smile grows. "i look forward to it, thelxiope." the wraith tells her. he will wait to move until she has departed - the day is still long, and he wants to walk in the afterglow of good company and sweetly salted air.

thank you too! look forward to the next one <3

The sea-witch's smile does not fade, and at his words, she replies "as do I, samothes." She turns on her heel then, a final smile and wave of her feathery tail a wordless farewell, and already she wonders when she will find herself in the rose-eyed man's company once more. The silver woman melts in quickly with the horizon and the sea as she turns northward, determined to be back before the season's change.