Sunset Valley fortune days
All Welcome  May 18, 2018, 03:35 AM
Dirge
Lone Wolves

Warmer air and earth had greeted him in the span of days that brought him back south only to be dashed away by the entrance of chilly rains in the late morning. Where lush scenery pulled him into the relative safety of the valley, it was far too late to save him from being soaked. With muddied paws that tested the equally muddy slope, his gaze was drawn out over a swollen creek that should have been no more than a trickling brook flush with stones.

Stirring birds in boughs above welcomed Dirge into a tight thicket as the wind toussled their leaves; the rain would soon come to pass. The chill that lingered dared to suggest it would be there a while longer, but he was hardly a stranger to the constant, if not apparently violent shift of spring's full bloom. He shook his coat once, then twice; all seemed in vain against the persistent pelt of heavy raindrops. It was no matter in the long run, he would dry.

At least the land had evened out here, the brief respite welcome as he had made his own path across what felt a place devoid of much traffic. The game trails were there as always, long worn stretches more apparent now that tall grasses and shrubs had grown, but he found a particular absence of his toothy ilk still. This was the wilderness at its finest he knew, and he moved on silently, directionless.
May 18, 2018, 05:20 AM
Thuringwethil
Drageda
Heda


Each new day and the puppies are more mobile than the last. Soon, there won’t be anything stopping them. The first few weeks have been the same as the first litter but they’ve started to develop into their own personalities and she realizes it’s going to be a whole new experience. They’d have a rocky start with last year and thinking they were better prepared this time only puts a damper on it at times.

Sometimes she thinks parenthood really isn’t for her.

She’d slipped away from the den early in the morning and began to patrol in order to clear her mind. Round the northern bend, her direction changes and she begins to make her way west.

By the time she hits the valley, her fur is waterlogged and dripping. The rain has started to lighten up but there’s no sign of reprieve in the cloudy skies overcast with rain clouds. It doesn’t bother her much and she shakes every so often only for it to return to a wet, bulky mess.

The silhouette in the distance forces her to stop and she slows to a stop. At first, a flutter in her stomach reminds her of food but better inspection proves to be wolf. Her posture shifts, tail lifting slightly without arching over her back and her head remains elevated enough for some sense of power. Eventually, her feet continue to carry her through the valley and she does not change her path as she gets a bit closer to the stranger.

Trigedasleng
Common
here is what they do not tell you about Death:
when Death says, You were born for this
she clearly means, You will die for this
May 18, 2018, 12:50 PM
Dirge
Lone Wolves

A figure came to in the distance, pitch as the midpoint of a starless night and just as undeterred by the elements. Her strides were every bit as confident as his own, thought had it not been for the bear-like structure that lent her strength and size he would have mistaken her for another. It wasn't to say he hadn't for a fleeting moment, but she did not match or carry herself in the way a certain pit viper did.

He regarded her openly as he would have any other, letting what random fate or luck or whatever it was determine how the curttailing of distance went. A foolish creature would have thought to keep moving west towards the northern curve of the shore would keep them from encounter, but he was never so foolish to believe he would wander alone for too long a stretch. If he hadn't wanted to be found, he would have kept it so. It had always been a matter of time.

His gaze tore away as he managed a rough dip of land at his feet, those steps slow and precise, and pressed forward to draw her closer. In these lawless venues he found her display both force of habit and guarded; it spoke enough of a tome to give him the opening line: "Interrupting your day, am I?"