anyone welcome! though i'd love for him to meet new chars <3
Having a great doubt within him that Fox hearkened to the Gods, or the Loa, Lecter found himself rather adrift in a sea of nonbelievers, save for Jinx and Clarice. Of the others, he knew little, and cared not to know.
For the present, the shaman busied himself with excavating what dried plants he had hoarded over the winter. In the clearing, before the large, rotted tree-bole into which he had burrowed himself, carving ragged shelves for drying and storing herbs. It was set far off in the woodlands, on the very edge of Fox's lands; Lecter did not wish to be disturbed by any wolf passing through.
A grunt of pleasure arose from his thin chest as he discovered the thin, delicate purple flowers for which he had been searching. Wild geranium only appeared in the springtime, and was a powerful ease to one's pains, and so any blooms the shaman had located the year before had been jealously guarded.
Now, he lipped one of the plants into his maw, settling it into the inner curve of one cheek, as much as a ruminant might handle its bolus for the chewing of cud. Grinding his yellowed molars down upon the geranium, Lecter welcomed the bitter burst of flavor. Too long had his hips ached this winter, and he feared the pains would only grow worse. For now, he had a welcome combatant beneath his tongue.
Turning his mind to the pondering of the current moon phase, Lecter settled himself contentedly in the clearing strewn with bones and dried entrails, chewing the geranium in silent contemplation.
Hope you don't mind me! :)
Warm air from the South had already begun to rise into the North. Snow wilted at its touch and invited the early blooms of the season to peek beneath last year's Autumnal decay. Even the first birds had returned to Teekon — one of which was an unlucky mallard who found himself between Tuwawi's jaws. The tired duck had descended a bit too far from the marshlands and became easy prey for the hungry Swiftcurrent wolf. Birds were tricky creatures to consume and it would be best to eat this fellow by her newly constructed den - as to save the downy feathers for bedding.
Tuwawi's prize hung limp from her mouth as she trotted back into Swiftcurrent's heartland, but the scenery was not the same as it was before. Had she taken a different path? It was murkier here... more decrepit from winter than the part where she resided. A stray femur on the ground caught the woman's attention; it's pale brittle surface glowed in the light. Her eyes traced it to shriveled guts strewn along the dirt. Besides it all sat an aged disheveled man, smeared with old blood and filth. Tuwawi's pace slowed to a stop as she regarded the reclined stranger among his treasures, caught somewhere between curiosity and disgust.
Boop... I am slow. Feel free to up-date this if you want :3
The older man's otherworldly gaze caught Tuwawi off guard, as she had anticipated the usual brown or yellow orbs of a commoner but was instead greeted by the unexpected pale seaside eyes of an enigmatic creature, carved like marble from his dusky resting hollow. Her rusty ears spiked forward, curiosity peaked by this unusual wolf.
'Who approaches?' he clipped, curt in tone. Tuwawi's slender face dipped to deposit the mallard betwixt her paws as if in preparation to respond. However, before she could say a word, the specter floated close with long and purposeful strides.
The ember's blaze licked muzzle stretched out to whiff at his scent, obscured by the ointment that enrobed him. The musk was strong, almost repulsive in aroma... but there was something enticing about it... something curiously fragrant.
"Tuwawi," she said in her usual roguish tone, answering the man's query without a second thought. Oh, but how more careful Tuwawi would have been if she realized that this was the Kesuk's witch; the ringmaster of all their dark practices. Yet the Tartok pledged woman had met Jinx, and knew to tread lightly within Swiftcurrent lest her identity be discovered.
Tuwawi stepped forth into a brighter pool of light to better grasp the other's features.
"And you?" she inquired as her almond eyes keenly traced the healer's long face, interested to learn more.
Thanks for waiting for me! I suck haha
Between the grim, callous smirk and the shallow drawl in his tone, the sea specter proved to be a fascinating man. His vocation of choice seemed well-suited to his scant appearance; a learned doctor by any descriptive verbiage. The white coat, a scrutinizing gaze, plus a wise mind... all in his cold-handed possession.
Lecter was a name certain to commit itself to the fireblood's mind, though the title which he gave proved to be of a darker tone. She knew the word
shaman well enough, as well as its good-natured connotation: a healer who acted as a mystic or spiritual leader in whatever culture they prayed fealty to. But
witch? Such an art alluded to more sinister crafts.
Tuwawi's lids squinted skeptically, and it took all her power not to scoff at the idea that she had been delivered to this wolf by some otherworldly force. She was a secular creature, and not one who facilitated any sort of divine worship.
"Perhaps by the smell," she responded passively in reference to the dank odor which masked the shearweater man and his glen. The idea of being manipulated by invisible strings did not sit well with the woman; though even now the dark leather of her nose reached out to make contact with his muzzle, as if to affirm his place amongst them in passing.
"Mm, but a witch you say?" she asked quizzically, having no knowledge herself in any spectrum of healing,
"what does that make your specialty?"
I'm the worst XD
Tuwawi suppressed a frown at the discovery that this Lecter, this so-called witch, did not declare himself to be a healer or botanist (though he was very much capable, unbeknownst to his guest) but rather a servant of Gods.
Glory and
Death were the icey man's words of choice... and though the fiery ember had met Shearwater wolves before, and held a certain disdain for them, she could not know that the
Him Lecter referred to was the Bay's black bear Sos. Gunmetal eyes performed a slow blink as her natural aversion of anything relating to such a sect repelled her interests.
"Interesting," she lied, feigning captivation to save a mask of polite etiquette as to not offend her pack-mate.
"But... perhaps another time you can share your tales. I have this duck to deliver," she told him, retrieving the mallard from between her feet and turning away to depart from the phantom's lair.
"I am sure I will see you again... Lecter," she managed to say around the feathers of her quarry as she trotted from his lair, ears turned back upon her crown in case there were any parting words.