Wolf RPG

With Summer in full swing, the wood was green and beautiful, not at all the amber colors of fall that its name derived itself from. Though Saraphine did not know of this forest's name, she only knew that it was a serene forest, which was something she enjoyed. She wasn't hungry, so the promising smells of lunch did not tempt her, though it did allow her to make a mental note of it. This would be a good place for hunting.

Speaker continued at her calm, graceful pace of a walk, the dappled sunlight firing sparks of fiery flashes off her fur. She no longer decided it necessary to continue heading west relentlessly, believing that the large plains and agonizing mountain range would protect her from her past. Instead, she simply enjoyed the sounds of tweeting songbirds and the warmth of the forest around her.

She continued to walk, deciding to explore the depths of this place. It was obvious wolves resided around here, but the Pack of Stonepeak had told her enough to know that packs were not at all friendly to strangers. She wondered if she'd want to join another pack at all. Her tribe was the only family she knew. But this place, though it had many wolves, was void of both Lothario and humans, and was therefore a good place to wander around. If she decided to remain alone, she'd continue the tradition of nomadic travelling around Teekon...

She was slowly working her way back to– Well that would never do. At the moment she had no idea where she was headed which left her to random wanderings as she picked her way across the earth and continued her mental inventory as to which plants were where. Plants, she was exceedingly good with. Everything else was a bit of a challenge, but she managed, somehow. Walking was within her skill set. It was a fundamental thing, but a useful skill, nonetheless, which was how she happened upon this forest without the slightest clue as to how her path had taken her this way. No matter. She was here now and here she would be.

Her icy eyes slipped through the trees. It was healthy and lush. The trees themselves were full with the summer rains; the leaves a brilliant green. She noted them as she passed and eventually turned her eyes lower so she might better spy this, that, and the other plant that might prove useful to her in the future. It pleased her to know there was quite the variety here. Then again, compared to the ridge, everything else had variety. Perhaps she'd linger more south of that place for a long while... tempting...

During her time here, she happened upon another. The female's pelt shone fiery and bright even within these shadows. Citali? Her earthen tones led her to blend within the foliage. And blend she did. Like a shadow she slipped through the shade of the trees only to catch a peculiar scent upon the female. Was that... Was that berries of some sort? What on earth?

She stalked closer, slinking through the foliage before emerging in all her amazon glory within the rays of a sunbeam. "Are you ill?" she asked, stepping through the light towards the female before pausing and waiting for an answer.

Saraphine paused, her ears flicking forward when she picked up on a soft noise of rustling foliage. A large female emerged, her earthy tones melding well into the background, smoothing together quite beautifully. Part of her admired the frame of the large female, standing tall and graceful in the sunlight. It was a sight that the fiery she wolf took in. She always enjoyed the little moments in life. She always admired another creature's own personal kind of grace, be it wolf or otherwise. And this wolf in front of her had her own kind of grace, that was for certain.

Saraphine tilted her head at her question, wondering where the idea came from. She didn't think about the scent of her paint, since it was such a common thing to her and hadn't realized the berries had let off their own scent. She shook her head before dipping it in a respectful hello. The dappled sun continued to play like fire on her pelt with each movement. "No, I am not ill, Miss. May I ask what gave you that thought?"

The female stared for a moment before shaking her head and following the gesture with words. No. She wasn't sick. "Then why is your leg blue?" she asked, glancing a little more fully at the female before her curiosity got the better of her. "Is there something wrong with your leg? And why would you use berries to tend it?" She took a few steps forward before stepping inside of the female's personal space and examining that leg more fully.

She sniffed at it, catching the scent of mixed berries that together would definitely create that coloration. Why anyone would do that was beyond her current knowledge, but if it was medically related she wished to know. While she would never admit it out loud, there were other types of medicine she had yet to explore. If this was one of those mystic types? Curious... Curious indeed.

"Oh, you mean this?" she followed through with the question by raising her right foreleg, examining the two blue-violet bands that traversed it. She smiled fondly at the paints. "These are merely paints, Miss. I use berries to color my fur blue. These bands are a symbol of my title."

Saraphine's heart swelled a bit. Perhaps this woman would be interested in what Speaker's unique culture had to offer? As far as she knew, the Tribe of the Northern Path had been the only pack to bear a high-ranking wolf with the title of Speaker for the Dead. She wondered if this was a chance to hold true to the promise she had made to her father...

Her eyes flashed with pride and happiness that someone had noticed the colored bands. In Tribe of the Northern Path, the highest ranks being displayed with bands of color on their foreleg. Paints were part of her lifestyle, and the fact at the plausibility of an outsider being interested was absolutely thrilling. "They represent my... profession, if you will. In my home tribe, it was a rank, and a high one at that, but it was unique to them, I have yet to see another pack bear a rank of my title, unfortunately. What do other wolves call themselves? Packs, yes?"

The wolf lifted her foot. Citali caught the bottom of her paw atop her own as she leveraged the females leg and examined the markings more closely. Definitely berries. She gathered that from the scent. A mixed blend of some sort that was strong enough to color over the natural hues of this wolf's fur. She reached out with her tongue then, licking at the marking to taste it for any additional properties. The dust of travel was the only other sign she found... Curious and curiouser.

She lowered the female's foot back to the ground and drew a few paces away. She'd examined it thoroughly. She did not need to draw any more conclusions as the wolf was now explaining herself away. A cultural thing? Paints and titles? She'd heard of wolves who utilized nature to such purposes and never understood it. There were so many more options and things to do with plants that did not involve aesthetics.

"And what of the winter?" When berries were scares. "How do you repaint them?" She distracted herself for a moment and the female continued to speak. Oh right. She was supposed to be listening. Tuning back in, she caught the tail end of the words that had been spoken. "Still packs," she confirmed with a light nod. "You mentioned a profession?"

Saraphine sighed and shook her head. "The unfortunate drawback to winter is lack of berry resources. Within a few days of the lack of berries, the colors fade. Usually we do not have a problem with it, however, as the paints are merely ceremonial. It is a tradition that had been passed on for many generations. And when Spring comes back, I will continue to repaint the bands."

She took note on how the girl in front of her studied the colors. It made the fiery female wonder exactly how much information the she-wolf in front of her had received from the endeavor. It didn't matter much, though. She had nothing to hide, really. "As for my profession, Miss. I am what you could call a Speaker. More specifically, a Speaker for the Dead." She stated, as if that clarified things.

"Mm. She nodded. Those markings were purely ceremonial. While she didn't understand it, as she was not a wolf of ceremonies or other traditional practices that required cosmetic demonstration, she was content in knowing this wolf had not obtained some sort of disease. Blue colorations... she had to admit, that short of frostbite and other anomalies here and there, blue was a rare condition. It hadn't hurt to check.

The wolf went on, further describing what those marks represented. Citali wasn't sure what to make of it. "Speaker for the Dead?" she repeated, trying to make sure she heard that right. "Why would we need to converse with the dead? There are far too many opinions among the living." Which was plenty. She had no idea why they'd wish to talk to and add more to the mix.

"Ah, the term 'conversing with the dead' ... I would not call it that." She tilted her head and slid her eyelids downward, slits of gold protruding through eyelashes elegantly as the she-wolf mused in thought. "As a Speaker, it is my duty to do what we called 'The Speaking'...

"The Speaking was a ritual to honor our dead. Now, whether they were truly honorable after the Speaking or not was up to how much the Speaker found out in their preparation for the Speaking. During the Speaking, the Speaker would reveal what we like to call the true spirit of the dead. We do that by speaking the story of the spirit, as their endeavors were collected by family, friends, and if allowed, even enemies. Then after gathering the information, the Speaker will meditate for days, sometimes weeks, to piece together the remaining missing parts of the story through deep thought and spiritual revealing. It is a slow process, but a very important one." She nodded sagely, as if affirming how crucial Speaking was.

She would study Citali's next movements, wondering if her tribe's tradition would appeal to the she-wolf. Anything, anything at all will do. You, my friend, could be a key to salvation of my pack tradition. Saraphine prayed that the she-wolf in front of her would be interested in the idea. Please, please, inquire more...

The female spoke and talked. A lot. Citali listened with faint interest until she was uncertain as to whether or not she could remember half of what she'd been told. It sounded like there was quite of bit of work done there on account of wolves who'd already passed. What she described as "speaking" seemed to her more like "lingering." She didn't understand it it in the least, but she could try to be respectful of another female's traditions.

"Well, it certainly sounds like a very important role." Frivolous, but to each their own. It made this female sound important in her own eyes, which was find and dandy. For herself? Citali tended wounds. She did her best to prevent death, but if they passed, dead was dead. There was nothing more she or anyone else could do except move on and quickly. There were always more ailments to tend.

Her eyes drifted, falling to the marks on her eyes once more. They held new meaning now, even if she didn't fully understand it, or want to fully understand it. "I'm sure someone will find it a useful skill," she further emphasized, separating herself from the conversation. It wasn't a talent she found handy, but to each their own. "There has to be a pack around here somewhere that would find some benefit in it."

Saraphine seemed to be visibly disappointed that the she-wolf in front of her did not share such an interest in Speaking. But she digressed, even Speaker herself knew that such a task her father had bestowed upon her would not be an easy one. She needed to expect disinterest. Speaker nodded at Citali, continuing.

"It was and is a very important role, because it answers one vital question to the deceased as if you were speaking to them personally, which is why we are called Speakers." she lowered her head, her gaze taking on a glint of awe-filled wariness. Her voice echoed in a note of ominousness and finality, "That question is, who are you? Most wolves live out their lives without once revealing themselves to the world. Speakers were both revered and sometimes even feared because of their ability to see through the facade of bone and flesh."

She shook her head, "Ah, but I'm being a chit-chatting feather-headed songbird. I am probably boring you. Pardon me. It was a task that my father had bestowed upon me, to tell as many wolves as possible about our ways in hopes someone would listen and rebuild our culture from when it fell." Speaker shook her head sadly, "I only hope you are right in saying that a pack will be interested enough to consider the ritual, however rebuilding a culture with your own paws will be no easy task, for certain..."

She appeared disheartened, but continued on. Citali listened as well as she could, but it all sounded very complex upon her ears. Nevertheless, she nodded as the fiery female prattled, offering more description to her unique skill set. She wished the girl well, truly, however Citali was a very practical wolf. In her eyes, dead was dead. She did not desire to dabble with them or try to speak to them on the "other side". Those who remembered them would remember, and those who didn't likely didn't care enough to know. In her eyes, it was all very simple.

This wolf? She appeared to have quite the challenge before her. The ritual she spoke of seemed rather unique and of a flavor that would appeal to a few, certainly, but not any she knew (which wasn't many). "Perhaps... not so much rebuilding a culture so much as finding a way to integrate it?" If she was looking for a replica, Citali was no so certain she would find it. But if she were willing to sacrifice some elements in order to share her talents with others, she might find a good fit somewhere.

Speaker made a humming sound, as if thinking on the words that were said. "Perhaps... I may have to sacrifice a bit for the sake of preservation, but that is unfortunate..." she sighed, disliking the idea, but understanding the valid logic. Still, Speaker would do as she was requested, and would die to make sure that at least the valuable role of Speaking would be preserved...

She was silent for a moment, as if remembering her father's last words. Her expression seemed to darken for a moment as the last bloody battle between the two groups of wolves had ended in tragedy and the fall of a great tribe that had been there for generations upon generations. Her death would mean the loss of a entire culture, unless she did what she vowed to do.

Her face softened again, her mind returning to the present. "But enough about me. I have been talking nearly nonstop since we have met. Whom do I have the pleasure of speaking to, may I ask?"

Mm. Sacrifices. That thing they all did in order to live with one another. If everything could be easy, life would be better, but significantly more boring. She shrugged. This wolf would figure out her own path here just as all of them would. How they fit in with each other was just a part of that struggle. Life. Everyone had one.

Her ears lifted when the female began to inquire of herself. "Hmm?" she murmured, contemplating for a moment as she decided just how much she wished to divulge about herself. "Myself? I'm a healer." No sooner had she passed her training for warrior as all amazon females were, than she'd chosen an alternate route to learn and apprentice under a number of very skilled healers. With their combined knowledge and Citali's own studies, she was very adapt at this particular art.

Speaker seemed to looked amused. "I see. That explains your curiosity about the paints. You use berries and plants for more practical services. Does the healer that stands before me go by any name?" Speaker herself, though not trained as a healer, had, like any other Speaker for the Dead, a vast knowledge of plants and their proficients.

She wondered about this female in front of her. Speaker was one of those wolves who hand everything to share and very little to hide. It was one of the reasons she would occasionally come off as a bit chatty when speaking about herself. However the femlae in front of her had given very little information about herself. Why is that? Certainly I do not represent so much of a danger to her that she would hide her name and her strengths?

"Tell me, Healer, are their any tri- packs around here that you may think will show an interest in the Speaking?"

Citali nodded as this wolf thought out loud. Yes. Her profession went to great lengths to explain her earlier questions and curiosities about this wolf and her... paint. Yes, Citali also used herbs and berries for more practical things... such as tending to the medical ailments of other wolves. Nothing ornamental. Nothing that made plants and herbs any less of the tools she thought them to be. The female continued, asking for a name. She hadn't given one yet, had she?

"Citali," the brown female answered easily enough. "Apologies for not mentioning it sooner." Her own thoughts must have distracted her from such social behaviors. She was feeling addle brained. Perhaps it was the weather.

Similarly, she almost missed the question the speaker asked about other packs. "Hmm?" she chimed, thinking back through the conversation towards the inquiry. "Um. No. I'm the wrong wolf to ask about that. I'm not overly familiar with the local groups." Her time was currently endless... or at least until fall settled in. She didn't have much need to consider a pack at the moment.

"You'll have to forgive me for stepping out so soon, but I do believe the heat is getting to me." She lifted a paw as if to fan herself a moment before making an exasperated sigh. "I must be off now. Best of luck to you!" With that, Citali excused herself and ventured off into the wilds.