Broken Antler Fen she comes to bring your kings to their knees

 
date: 12/3/17
time: late night
weather: snow, 8°F

please let @Jerrik and @Methuselah post first

it had all started innocent enough —

they joined at first only at night, in secret, as all dark things are supposed to be loved.  she settled into his bones with a natural ease, expanding to fill the space they offered her to grow.

but she wanted more. she wanted to be devoured.  she wanted him, pomegranates and darkness, gentle nibbles down the notches of her spine.

they were poetry in motion, they were marble statues given breath and flesh.  they were sun and moon, god-destined for one another, and when the time came her husband burned down rome before she could ask, making sure the tongues of flame never got too close and burned her pelt.

they were untouchable. until they weren't, and everything crashed down upon them and she heard her people crying out for a saviour, for death.  so they'd fled, two lovers with another in tow.

and she had changed. ever since they had escaped the borders of the homeland and disowned the protection of the family a dragon's hunger had risen in her belly and flared within those treasure-gold eyes.

the family was not over.  though she was at present a queen without crown or kingdom, she knew that she had her omaticaya, and they could begin again in a new land.

 

 

---

the moon was at its perigee as they made their way into the teekons and she took it as a sign.  look, she beckoned them, how bright she is tonight.  majia cleared a spot down in the snow and ice with the help of @Jerrik and @Methuselah before laying down next to them; the southern forest was always warmer than this.

i feel called to these lands.  somewhere, i know it, is where we will rebuild the family.

“When the stars call you to love the night Herself, you will come.”
Grief still smoldered in Jerrik’s heart, an icy gnawing flame that refused to die-- with those words, spoken so long ago, his fate had been carved. He walked the path of sweet, crushing darkness-- the sun trailing his beloved moon, recklessly leaving fire in his wake.
The lovers cut their path of destruction into the flesh and bones of their home, gutted the heart of their people; it was a painful duty, but the stars had called.
And he who had given Jerrik this wisdom refused to hear it. His own father, who had seemed so solid, so safe-- he was as bound to his fate as his son, in the end.
Yes, the grief still stirred and ached and festered in the deepest pits of the Golden King’s soul, but he would never apologize.

In the early morning Jerrik had come to his lover and his dearest friend, the sounds of battle at his back, and they had stolen away. All was lost in their homeland, and the spirits called to The Family to rebuild elsewhere. The endless journey, as he came to think of it, brought them through many lands. Lands of sand and sun, infinite trees, towering mountains. Lands of men and lands of beasts. He followed his love, @Majia through it all, with his brother by his side-- not a brother in blood, but a brother in spirit, @Methuselah .
Now they entered a region filled with snow, the moon leaning close to cradle the land this night. Jerrik could feel the chill wearing at his bones, sapping his energy, and he could only speculate at the exhaustion of his companions. The golden wolf set to work clearing a spot at the beckoning of his love, mounding the snow at the sides of their small nest to insulate from the icy winds.
Then we will roam until the stars’ song guides us home, my love. Jerrik rumbled, pressing next to Majia to keep her warm with his thick coat.

He let them destroy Eden.

The burning fires licking and swallowing it whole before his very eyes as a holy land died out.
Ashes to ashes, every single demon ran and cried and howled in obvious pain as Armageddon brought upon them. These holy flames would make sure that no evil or corruption would arise again.

They salted the ground with liar’s blood and flesh. Remnants, a warning to any who came across them of the impurities of the land.

Before him, they stood as the Righteous. These were the true chosen. The only ones blessed to live by the gods themselves as they stood over the fire. While heroes were typically cloaked in God’s purifying light.

This pair wore shadows. Instead of golden rays, they wore darkness. Beautiful Messiahs in their stance. Yet, it ended in the way most Messiahs do.

They became Martyrs. All of them left those tainted lands to avoid a martyr’s death. To right the wrongs of those who failed they needed to live. They needed to rebuild.
Maybe they could repent for the original sin of those unfaithful to the truths of the gods.

Methuselah looked up at the moon; it was perfection in the highest degree as it waltzed across the night sky. He moved over to allow @Majia space to rest. The snow and ice did little to bother him as it speckled across his coat. “Hopefully, arrogance won’t blind us this time.” Methuselah sniffed at the snow as he kept his head down.

she casts an intense glance back at methuselah, flews quirking down as a single thought crosses her mind — they proclaimed their predecessors arrogance, yet was it their own that burned down their home in holy fire?

just as quick as the thought comes she casts it away, because there is no place for it in these lands.  she considers herself merciful.

yes.  i trust in the gods; the mighty always have a plan.  and what was theirs?  

she turns her face up to the stars, bathing in the moonlight.  rest, majia, child.  you will be led.

rest while you can.  we have quite the journey ahead of us.  who knows what kind of wolves make their home in these lands?

Skipping to morning with permission!

Jerrik laid to rest by his beloved, making room for Methuselah at his side. He slept soundly with his love by his side, but even she could not ward off the persistent nightmares that had followed him since they had left.

--
One by one, Jerrik's eyes cracked open, murky grey in the dim morning light. He turned to look at his still-sleeping companions, blinking a few times to clear the sleep from his eyes. The sun was still low, yet to make its true debut yet, so he simply set about clearing the snow away from the still-sleeping forms of Majia and Methuselah. When he finished, he sat next to them, staring out at the slowly-awakening sun as he waited for the light to return. Perhaps Methuselah would awaken and they would hunt-- he did miss hunting with his brother. Yes, they had hunted plenty as of late, but it wasn't the same.

Though, there really was nothing to suggest that this would be different; nothing but a slightly warm feeling tugging at Jerrik's chest, growing with the glow of the rising sun. Maybe that was all he needed.

Even in his dreams he couldn't escape the feeling of blood clotting his throat and the smell of charred flesh. Choking on the neck of somebody he once knew.


--
Methuselah's eyes snapped opened as the dream ended. In the depths of his mind, he knew it wasn't so much a dream but, a memory kept playing itself over till he burried it with present problems. He wouldn't be bothered with it right now. 

The glowing light of the raising sun had him relefively closing them as he huffed. It was a lovely way to wake up as the burning in his eyes started to fade away. The oldest of the group moved to finally stretch as he tried to loosen up his stiff muscles. Even in the morning light, Methuselah still felt tired as he looked over at their little clearing. However, it didn't take long for him to notice Jerrik's form nearby. There was a soft warmth in his chest as he walked over to him. Bushy tail wagging ever so slightly behind him.

skipping Majia with permission!

Brother, you're awake. Jerrik pushed his nose into Methuselah's cheek happily, then turned to look out at the snowy wilderness. We should hunt, before Majia wakes. Just you and I, like old times.
The sun-child put his nose close to the ground, then glanced back up at Methuselah. He could smell many things, but it wasn't enough to distract him from the fact that his brother looked so tired. The journey had worn on them all, but Jerrik worried most about Methuselah. Something about the other wolf seemed... almost broken. It hurt to realize that he could do little about it.
Perhaps this new land will be good for us. He sounded more uncertain than he had intended.

Methuselah smiled as he felt Jerrik press against his cheek. The brief touch made his heart swell with happiness as he returned it. “Of course, it’ll be just like the old times.”
While Jerrik sniffed at the ground Methuselah tried to see if he could catch a whiff of something in the wind. However, all he could was smell was ash. White eyes widened slightly as Methuselah looked down quickly. A paw coming up to try and stop the smell as he snorted a few times. There was no reason why he picked up that scent and he didn’t want to think about.
“I’m sure it will.” Methuselah reassured Jerrik as he pressed his nose against him. Unlike the rotting stench he first smelled, his brother smelled like sunshine. Even as the black wolf pulled away that calming scent seemed to wrap around him. “We need to see what sort of prey lives here.”

kind of a bad post RIP sorry!

Agreed. Jerrik rumbled in response. I can smell a rabbit's trail, fresh enough to follow.
He didn't wait for Methuselah to answer-- he was all too accustomed to being in charge, so he headed off in the direction the trail led, fully expecting to be followed.
It was an icy morning, dull and dim in the way winter often was. The cold seemed to bite down to the bone. Jerrik's thick coat protected him from most of it, but his paws and face ached in response to the extreme temperature.

Methuselah didn't bother to try replying as he followed after his young king. The tempeture was extremely bitter as he felt ice crunch under his paws and the wind bitting at his nose. It was still earlyhowever, the sun was still low in the sky. Maybe with time the tempeture would raise to a warmer degree. For now Methuselah stayed close to Jerrik as he sniffed through the air for a fresh rabbit trail. The memory of the nightmare started to fade as the feeling of comfort of his pack brother started to seep in.

crappy post to keep him active before he becomes a secondary

 

He moved briskly, searching until he caught a familiar scent-- the one he was looking for. Jerrik picked up in speed as he followed the trail, but slowed as he neared the source of the scent. He took his time stalking the creature until he was close enough to begin the chase.
Then he was running after it, across the snowy field towards what seemed like a forest. The sun-child unintentionally left Methuselah behind, disappearing behind a snow-covered rise in the terrain on a path into the trees.
He neared it, reached out with snapping jaws, and then-- he fell?
The snow seemed to disappear from under him, giving way to an underground pocket. It was deeper than he anticipated, and he fell to the frozen dirt bottom with an oof. Dirt piled on top of him first, falling from the crumbling sides of the hole he had created, then snow on top of that. His head ached, and his ears were ringing-- for a moment he didn't understand what had happened, or where he was, but it didn't last very long. The young king fell unconscious within seconds.