After a little talk with Dante Osprey's resolve to go South and see her brother was set. Of course with the pirates lurking at the Northern coasts and possibly many new packs, which had claimed the territories elsewhere, there was danger to her traveling alone. Therefore permission for her to leave was not entirely willingly given, but Dante had let her go, respecting her wanderer's nature and need to go outside in the world now and then. She had promised to return as soon as possible in return.
It was a good day for a journey - sunny, warm and the unique smell of spring (a mix of wet earth, sprouting grass, water, leaves from the last autumn) in the air and as Osprey left her home behind, padding over a large open field, she hoped that this favorable weather was there to stay and that in a way it was a good sign. That her brother was alive, fine and well. And that this time she would be able to meet him in person rather than his murderously angry wife. It had been almost a year now.
When she had reached the edge of the forest (Deepwood Weald), she caught sight of the first butterflies. Yellow ones. And she stopped trying to remember, what was the old superstition about your fate in the coming summer depending on the color of the first butterfly you saw.
Maude didn't know what the bloody hell she was doing this far south, what with being in the new pack and all, but here she was. And she was bored. Why did she come down here again? There was something about the pack moving in with another coastal pack, which obviously meant that one she had passed on her way to find...him...but that still didn't explain her lingering around the southern border. She didn't even want to go back to Tortuga yet, if ever. Maybe. She was a pirate after all, born and bred.
She decided to turn back, shuddering as she had to pass through the forest in order to skirt around the pack. She would never get used to being on solid, muddy ground. It was too dirty, too planty (is that a word, well it is now), not enough salt in the air to fill her lungs. But she was close to sand again, even if the forest's influence reached beyond the dirt. It was evidenced by the strange insects flying in the air...butterflies, right? Maude watched one flutter by and a strange thought (since when were her thoughts not strange?) went through her mind: what did it taste like? Maude followed one bright yellow specimen, the hue matching her mad eyes, trying to get as close as possible. She leapt into the air, her jaws snapped just a few inches away from the butterfly's tail...? But she missed. And then she missed again. Maude huffed as she landed heavily on the ground in front of the female, shaking her pelt and turning her head towards the gray woman. 'ey, lass. Ever tried one o' those things?
She asked, her mind searching for something to attach itself too without Ferahgo in her presence.
Osprey was not allowed to wander in the land of daydreaming for long, because another "butterfly" came crashing in the view. Wolf-shaped and possessing nothing of the grace of it's yellow, petite and beautiful siblings, it landed not too far away from her and asked a question in an accent that took the gray she-wolf time to decipher, but, when she finally did, she did not go ahead with her answer straight away. She took a step backwards first, examining the stranger's stature and trying to figure out, how dangerous the lady exactly was.
And when she finally made the decision to talk with the lass, she delivered her words in a little bit patronizing and haughty manner: "Nope - no meat, not worth the effort." It was the most obvious thing, after all. Just look at the creatures - how dense one could be not to see that. "Pretty creatures rarely are of the same value on the inside," she pointed out, regarding the stranger with now... a little hungry look. Not that Osprey was going to eat her - rather... for the effect and see, what would the lady make out of it.
Maude felt her mind drift from thoughts of Ferahgo to the strangely insistant thought that butterflies must taste good, or, if not, she must taste it regardless. She couldn't say why, If someone examined her brain they would associate it with the pervasive obsession and dependence Maude has on one person or one goal, but there were no therapists here. Maude was left to let her emotions take hold and center on the golden insect. Maude turned her head away from Osprey and looked at the butterfly as it fluttered away, her focus all on the insect rather than the gray woman beside her. Aye, but plants ain't meat, an' people seem t'be eatin' them alls the time, eh?
She tried to shift her focus as the butterfly grew fainter and fainter in the distance, but she seemed to find the golden flash no matter how hard she tried to focus her eyes on the woman. Still 'as a taste, though. Good o' bad. Still tastes like somefin'.
Much to Osprey's disappointment the other she-wolf did not seem to be affected by her little scharade. Even worse - she didn't seem to have noticed her little game. And from the looks - it was clear that there was no point in continuing either. There was no fun in playing, if the other one did not understand the rules.
"By all means - go, hunt and eat them, should you fancy so," Osprey shrugged and yawned, not particularly interested to continue the conversation on the nutritional value of butterflies. "Where do you come from - I suppose that nowhere from here," the accent alone was a tell-tale sign, but the gray she-wolf thought that she had been rude enough already to point that obvious fact out.
At the mention of her origins, Maude broke out of her butterfly-centric trance to focus on the question. Tortuga.
She took a deep breath, smelling the female and recognizing the wooden-salty mix. She had passed that sequoia filled forest many a time during her time in Teekon Wilds, and even met a member or two. She wondered if they knew of the dissolvement of the crew, but it honesly didn't matter to her. Yew know 'bout it?
"Tortuga? Doesn't ring a bell," Osprey shrugged, though somewhere in the back of her mind she was certain that this wasn't the first time she had heard the nanme of the place. Even the she-wolf's accent reminded her of someone she had met a very long time ago. A person that for some reason had been important, but after flickering briefly like a tiny flame in her life, it had disappeared completley. And therefore both the face and significance had erased themselves over time.
"Bones!" she called out, remembering the name and the circumstances under which she had met her. A mad girl swimming in the middle of the winter. That's, how they had started talking to each other.
"Do you know of such girl? I met her a long time ago, when she had come here to look for her family."
ooc: referring to this thread - http://wolf-rpg.com/showthread.php?tid=1482 .
Oh,
She said, ready to dismiss the woman and continue her inquiry on the taste of butterflies until a word suddenly flung from her maw. Maude blinked, wondering what the wolf spotted, until she continued. Bones?
She repeated, racking her brain for any memory of a wolf in Tortuga named Bones. She was too young to have known the wolf, and she was never too interested in women to begin with, especially not adults. But it didn't sound familiar. Or did it? She couldn't tell. Lot's o' wolves in Tortuga. Lot's o' crews, too. Mebbe I knows 'er, mebbe not. Prob'ly not.
Osprey did not know, what exactly she had expected to hear from this woman and why did she feel a bit disappointed, when the other admitted of not knowing Bones. Or having never heard of her either. Lots of crews probably meant that there were a lot of wolves there, but how much exactly? How much did you need to miss a certain youngster by a certain name?
"So - this Tortuga place - what exactly is it? A huge pack?" Osprey asked something that would likely bring a more fulfilling answer.
Naw. It's a buncha crews - packs - livin' close t'gether in one big 'arbor. Food's easy t'find there, if'n yer strong enough t'stake a claim.
It was a far cry from the distant, cold shore here in the north. She had never travelled so far without running into one crew or even one person. It made sense that everyone was so jumpy whenever they saw someone else; it was a rarity. Nothing like 'ere. Abso-bloomin'-lutely not.
She chuffed. Not as quiet, that's fer sure.
She honestly missed the roaring shanties and constant brawling. It was much too quiet and still here for her liking, but she was too ashamed to go back. If ye'd like y'could head south 'long t'coast t'Tortuga. Mebbe you'd find yer 'Bones' friend dere.
She shrugged, looking absently in the direction the butterfly fled, where it had long disappeared.
"Sounds... downright peculiar," Osprey replied, having not understood half of, what the other had said, because of the accent. She tried to remember, if Bones' had had the same way of speech, but much to her disappointment she could barely remember her looks.
"This crew stuff - is it a pack or what?" she decided to take the opportunity and ask as much as the other was willing to share. You did not meet a person from an unconvential pack every day after all.
But she never got to hear the answer - there was asudden, loud "bang" sound above their heads, making Osprey freeze first and after casting one last incredulous glance at the odd lady, she ran away.
ooc: need to wrap up some older threads. Thanks for the game! :)