Wolf RPG

She had not left the Wood willingly. Already the pious woman had decided that it was there she would reside, if given the chance. But there was more to be done. They beckoned that she follow; that perhaps the one she had locked eyes with was the key. Again this decree was something unsaid, but known in her heart. That very day she followed his scent to where he came; an impressive forest was what she had seen, and here, too, something could be felt. It was a whisper to the druid in comparison to those that had chosen to settle in the monoliths. It could be heard, however. It lived, and with her aid, would never die. 

Riúr was upon them all. The young one carried with her an impressive felted rack from the wood, festooned with lichen and fallen leaves she had found, which was pressed to the antlers with the aid of sap. She thanked the forest for these gifts she would bring to the one she felt a peculiar kinship with before her departure. The item was of course a spiritual one, a warm, pleasant reminder that there was another here. Caoimhe was a celebratory girl, and although she understood upon leaving home that she would be alone in her ways, she had felt simply in looking at the other that perhaps this was not so. 

She had arrived the time the cubs were born. Caoimhe was uplifted by the song they sang and longed to join them. But her place was the forest she had found first; it had not been her who had decided to be a part of the wood, but Them. Caoimhe deposited her gift on the fringe of the Bay and sang her congratulations; it was a quiet, lilting song. She lingered here for a little while, hearing the whispers. 


But the forest did not sing for her; it sang for the life it hosted, it sang for hope. She blinked, and wondered. Wondered if the man she had seen shared her hopes; wondered if they were the first she could tell her tales to, perhaps. It was a simple idea, but the humble Caoimhe let the thought fade to nothingness for the time. They were freshly born, and it would never be her call to decide this for them. She had brought him a gift from nature, and this for now was all she could bring from that sacred place. 

She turned to depart, silent in her leaving and never once looking back. 

since seeing the woman in the weald, lasher had thought often of her. it was not in a romantic sense, but he had so few ties to his origins that any tangible link between another and himself must be explored, detailed, adored. but he had not been able to do this with the female druid -- she had fled, like a pursued doe, into the curtain of forest and night. but they had mingled nevertheless, and the sound of her voice raised in glorious song o'ertop donnelaith quickened his heart within his breast.

it was a sound filled with the murmuring of spirits -- when he had kissed the newborn babes, taltos made his way toward the sound, emanating from the edge of the nearby bay. perhaps she would be there again, and they could speak of this marvellous and mysterious bond betwixt them. skirting the water's edge, lasher searched for the girl with his murkwater gaze, but alas, she had departed.

yet a gift lay there, and immediately he knew that the woodwitch had brought it for him, to commemorate the births of the newest mayfairs. he lowered his muzzle to the decorated tines, breathed in the lingering scent of she who had brought it, like some wandering king seized by the sight of a high star, and presently he called out his gratitude in a long, low song.