Wolf RPG

Full Version: Supersymmetry
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I'm just gonna leave this here...

A day's journey had brought Tuwawi to a vast lake's treeline in the southeast, far from the strong-smelling borders of the Ridge and Plateau wolves. She had followed a long winding river through dense wood away from Neverwinter, although this had not originally been her intent. Border patrol was a default occupation, even for the Phi; however the feral redhead couldn't help but be drawn by the babbling torrents. The river was like a pulsating vein amongst the still and frozen valley - too grand to freeze across completely.

However, the bright sun of mid day had waned, and the biting chill of night crept onto the plains. Slowly the light disappeared into the west and cast the lake into dusk. The sky was clear (a good sign... no snow) and stars were spattered along an ethereal purple canvas. It was hard to see, now, and Tuwawi wondered if she would bunker down here or make the arduous trek back to Neverwinter's save haven. The wind nipped at her nose and beckoned her out onto the frozen shore, two paws on the snow-dusted ice and two on land. It wouldn't be hard to cross in the dead of winter, Tuwawi mused to herself as her silver eyes flicked up to gaze at Sunspire in the distance.
She was standing on the ice, a flickering flame amongst a still landscape of white and grey. From afar he only saw red. A bloom of color amongst the desolation of winter, unfamiliar, but desperately desired.

The wind was in his favor as he approached. A dusty vagrant who was at home in the cold wilderness, yet at the same time lacking something. She would not smell him coming and that made him safe. Njal was not interested in being driven away from the fire — something that he realized as he got closer, and her petite silhouette cut across his vision.

Proudheart. But it couldn't be her, she was back in the Valley, wasn't she?

The man crept along, insistent in his steps, carrying himself with a tired swagger. She was distracted by something, which made his covert approach successful. His quick steps became hungry steps, until he was dangerously close — but Njal did not reveal himself. He watched her silently, wanting to go to her.

He couldn't go to her. Not right now. Not after leaving that last time. If felt too wrong now; he would bide his time.

As she turned her head, sharp, pointing her narrow face towards the mountains beyond, Njal twitched as if to duck out of sight amongst the trees; but he need not do that, the shadows were thick enough to hide him.

But the wind shifted against his knowledge, eager to betray him.
It was as if this mountain was the brother of the Sunspire Tuwawi knew so well in the Seahawk Valley. The one who's depths she had discovered the influence of the Earth and realized what strength it could provide to those who trusted it. Kindred had been strong, then - lead by the mighty Sterntooth. So quickly is had all gone to shit, washed away by a storm in the blink of an eye. Their blazing flame had been doused and the dark ashes had mixed with mud. In a time of need, the young ember had turned to Tartok. She did not regret this... however Tuwawi, even now, yearned for the time she had spent on the sun warmed plains that had been rich with bramble and sweet grasses while surrounded by those she loved and trusted.

The glowing memory faded into the night and Tuwawi was left alone on the frozen lake of a land she hardly recognized. Her lips creased into a disappointed frown, heart heavy without love or ambition. The role of omega would suit her well now, all energy exhausted by her psychological hunger. One paw shuffled forward, followed by the other, until her body fell into a slow walk onto the thick ice. It creaked and moaned beneath her weight, but felt solid enough to continue across. She had pledge herself to Neverwinter, but this didn't stop her journey.

Only one thing could freeze the she-wolf midmotion and make her blood run cold; only one thing that had any pull over her in this dismal world... because there was only thing she truly loved.

The frosty wind had shifted to ruffle the red downy fur behind her ears, tickling her nose with a familiar aroma like a meddling trickster. It was made of hard slate, mountain rivers, high alpine trees, fresh snow, and a warm woodsy perfume distinct to only one man on this planet. Tuwawi felt her heart squeeze, her lungs failing as her stomach twisted ten times over. Instantly her face turned hot, eyes welling at the memory of Palestrike, the name she knew him best by.

Tuwawi was not a frail creature by any means, but when the scent washed over it and made her shrink with anguish anew. If there was one torture in this world any woman could barely endure, then this was it. She both grieved and relished the far off memory of the man she had promised herself to. He would be so far away by now... probably up in the frozen North following his own path. These foreign lands were wild and sadistic, the redhead decided. Yet, she couldn't help but feel poisoned, fooled by her own body and mind.

Longingly, she looked back over her shoulder with tired eyes, as this trouble aged her. Only the inky darkness of shadows stared back with a hollow gaze, offering nothing in return for their playful vex. Ruddy ears teetered forward intently as a hush fell over the lake, but the wind was quick to die. Tuwawi's pale jaw tightened, paws nearly frozen from the ice, as she willed a figure she knew was not there to appear from the treeline.
The fire moved across the ice with the confidence of a budding inferno. Pride welled within the man as he watched her; tempted to emerge and go to her. To offer himself to her will, despite his misgivings.

She faltered, and Njal could barely contain his lunge from the shadows. He lurched in to her view for a split second — a flash of silver against the dark earth, turned a moody storm grey in the darkness. He pulled back, contrite.

How could he go to her now? No, the better question — what kept him away? They did not fight. Nothing happened. Njal was not repulsed by her in any way. He thought of the first moment he had seen her; the two of them, fresh within the ranks of Kindred and aligned against one another. Their spars had not lasted long, and yet it had ignited something. A spark — which now flourished deep within his chest, hotter than the sun.

Nothing had happened. He had left for no good reason, abandoning her the way he abandoned everything else. It was pathetic - he was pathetic. Stronger alone, he used to think. Conditioning himself through the wrong decisions.

Fate brought them together over and over, but never for long. Njal took a deep breath of the winter air - tasting the spice of Proudheart, so close, despairingly hoping that she had found someone to replace him. Someone to make her happy, as he could not. She turned, and the look upon the redhead's face told him everything the wind could not.

The girl — for he had not made her a woman, yet — had her eyes upon him. Striking through him.

He was turned to stone with her medusa stare; unable to follow his desires on to the ice, where his fire waited.
Disappointment wracked Tuwawi's spirit when no answer came from the wood and it caused her hot blood to chill. The silence was a hard reminder of the uninspired life she lived now; overqualified for the lowest position of Phi within Neverwinter's ranks. Nature drove her to stay with the pack but, as a passionate woman, Tuwawi would not have it. Her life was unconventional at best -- fueled by want, desire, and the unquenchable thirst for the one she had lost along the way.

They had always been opposites, Tuwawi and Njal, but the flame touched woman couldn't place exactly why they had so often been driven apart. Fate was a cruel animal. After all, had she not seen into his eyes? Ran with him? Fought besides him? Slept next to him? Her mind turned to a more intimate thought as she looked away into the starry twilight. A wry smile painted itself upon her scant face as she savored another far off memory.

With nothing left to give this barren scrim she shifted to the North to resume her travels, and turned her red back on the empty forest. However, after only a few steps the ice began to creak unlike before. It moaned in protest and suddenly the ground felt unsteady beneath Tuwawi's feet. She slowed to a stop and waited for the sounds to subside. Her hair raised as sense of emergency hung in the air. Without warning, the frozen lake gave way beneath her paws.

A large chasm opened up and swallowed her front half, stilted legs plummeting into the dark waters of Greatwater Lake. Her back end strained to support her weight on the crumbling ice as her tailed lashed behind for balance. She struggled to get a grip on the edge of the divide, but managed to heave her soaked front from the water's cold jaws. Immediately, she retreated, skipping away from the hole in the lake and back into the empty embrace of the deserted shore.
He could hear the crack even with the distance between them, he could feel it, perhaps vicariously, but it was enough.

The sudden descent of her front half made his head raise to attention, and muscles tense — once again he lurched forward, taking a few too many strides out of the dark of the forest's edge and coming in to full view of the surrounding light. A grey silhouette against the black trees.

She was distracted and hurriedly trying to adjust, to save herself from the cold depths beath her, and Njal wished he could go to her — to taste her fur, and lift her free.

But Proudheart did not need him, despite the terror of her plunge. The girl fell upon the embankment and Njal, without realizing he had lost control of his body, had sped towards her in the interim.

There was a choice here that Njal did not want to make.

To stay, to lend his warmth and sooth her chills, to become a part of her life again and root himself within her life's path, for good. Or to leave her — to flee in cowardice, knowing her own abilities would keep her alive. How desperate he was for an answer! Njal paced, his body between the lake the trees now, stuck at an impass of thoughts.

Proudheart could survive anything. She was resilient, strong, and the inferno of her own spirit would keep her going. The cold wouldn't bother her. Njal's head dropped and his tail, dragging against the snow, carved a curling line where he turned and retreated. The flash of his coat turned muddy and dark as he fled, leaving the light of his life behind.

[Njal flees because he's a dumbo.]
Numbness bit into her toes as Tuwawi stumbled on the slick ice to safety. Everything hurt from the elbows down, so cold it made the snow feel warm. Her joints locked and ached as if they were arthritic, stiff as she moved in a brisk canter to land. She could do nothing but grit her teeth as the wind clawed into the heavy dampness that clung to her fur, hot vapor steaming from her mouth in great clouds from the effort.

She trembled from the cold and adrenaline with a vindictive scowl, nerves frayed from her near fatal encounter. Wide, silver eyes look up ahead to the sanctuary of land, desperate to flee the monster lake. A flash of motion caught her eye, and in her peripheral a creature made its escape. Eager for rest, Tuwawi squinted, and was horrified that the figure was recognizable. He was hunched, but the tempo of his gait was unmistakable. Sandy hair danced in the starlight through the dappled shadows cast by the boughs of the lakeside trees, as his chiseled face remained fixated on the snow. Njal?

Was it him? Had he truly been there the whole time? At first, she was elated, but that emotion was soon washed away as he openly denied her, disappearing from her sight at a rapid pace. "W-wait!" Tuwawi screeched after him, voice hoarse from the lump that had formed in her throat. Njal fancied her to be strong and composed, but truly she was a crippled thing. A mere mere wick of flame compared to the blaze he once knew her to be.

Pain was only second to her confusion, and without a second thought Tuwawi's direction changed. However, her body - tired and shocked - would not allow her to follow, and so her pace slowed to a unwilling stop.