Wolf RPG

The teenager took no notice of the sweet spring day that he was walking through – his sights were set on the nearby borders. He knew he was finally ready to let his grief bubble up to the surface and overtake him. But he managed to hold onto his composure for the moment, because he also knew that he needed a friend to help him through this tide of emotions. Everyone on Silvertip was stricken with their own grief, and he didn’t think they could help him, because he felt their Beta should be a crutch which they were able to lean on in their own grief.

When he truly thought about who he wanted at his side, who he felt could help him through this, there was only one name: @Osprey.

Finally, he stood at the borders, careful not to trespass. Mason lifted his muzzle and called, a long mournful note; essentially read Oooooosssspppprrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeey!

He hadn’t spoken much since his Dad’s death, and the vocal chords which were used in this deep call seemed to crack and crumble. Mason’s face crumpled as he stood at her borders, dejected and unhappy. He patiently waited for the friend who had lifted his spirits before, hoping that she could magically make everything better again.

Osprey was dozing in the sun, part of her aware of her surroundings and the other one seeing fleeting, colorful and meaningless dreams. Now and then she would wince, when the kids being restless inside, kicked her in the ribs or the bladder, but it would quickly pass. She would sigh, stretch and continue sleeping. 

Aside from some howls around the borders, asking either for the audience with the leaders or an access inside the lands, there had been no calls for her in particular lately. Mostly because her friends lived either far away or here. So, when she was woken up by a very mournful cry that spoke of her name, she got up imediately. 

Yawning and blinking sleep away from her eyes, she ambled towards the source of the sound and much to her surprise she found Mason standing there. "Hey, Mason - Whisper!" she greeted him using both of his names. "You look like you have had a sip from the pool of misery. What's wrong?" she asked.

Dante heard the call for his mate and rose to his feet.  Even though the summons was in no way for him (and intruding on it was likely rude as hell), the protective urge was strong and growing stronger.  If a stranger beckoned for her, he was checking in.  

By the time he spotted them, Osprey had already arrived.  Dante could tell immediately the other wolf was young, and that their greeting was amicable.  There had been no threat in the howl, so he wasn't sure what he'd expected.  But he felt a knot ease within as he beheld them, and went to turn away.  He wouldn't be so forward as to press his own company on them, but he wasn't about to leave easy calling distance either.  He'd keep to the area.

The young adult didn’t have too long to wait before Osprey appeared, her greyscale coat stark against the sun bouncing from the vibrant green grass that littered the edge of Donnelaith’s borders. Too wrapped up in his own misery, Mason didn’t notice any waddle-walk or the soft swell to Water-Waffle’s belly. She spoke and her voice rang against his soul like a bell-chime. Whisper tried a smile but failed, and decided he’d better spit it out.

“My Dad died.” And with that momentous announcement, Mason coughed a wet sob and allowed tears to stream.
He didn't even notice the other wolf lingering nearby.

For a moment or two Osprey had the odd feeling of someone watching her and Mason, which wouldn't be that odd - after all the borders were guarded by many of the pack members. She turned to glance quickly over her shoulder, but her bad eyesight offered only an overview, not an insight in details. Therefore she shrugged it off and turned her full attention back to her unhappy friend. 

My dad died. There was mild shock first and then her heart was flooded with the sympathy for the young wolf. "Well, that sucks big time," she announced, taking the liberty to go sit next to Mason, offering a shoulder to cry on and all the time in the world to calm down. "Don't hold it in - pain needs to be felt," she told him quietly, in case he thought that crying was an unmanly thing to do.

She reacted as he had known she would. Though he was trying to keep a steady face in front of his step-mom and co-Beta, and his pack, in front of Osprey he felt the plug fall out underneath the tumultuous waves of his emotions. She was like a safety net. When she sat next to him, he turned to sob into her fur for a good few minutes before he could say any more words.

Then, suddenly: “I hate it!” He suddenly shouted with fury, turning his muzzle so that the words flew over her shoulder rather than into her fur. He felt helpless and angry. But what did he hate? The feeling? The fact that his Dad had died? The mountain? His home? His predicament? Everything.


So he may as well verbalise that thought. “I hate everything!” His inner child danced smugly on the hot ash smouldering in his heart.

Osprey let Mason cry, patiently watching the boy, when opportunity presented itself, she would give a re-assuring lick on the side of his face. Losing a beloved parent is always hard - it does not matter, if you are as young as this boy or as old as her. She had lived to see both of her parents falling ill, becoming weak and dying and, even though the pain had long since gone and she did not think about them every day, there were moments in life, when she wished that they were. That she could tell them, how she was doing, and ask for an advice in case of troubles. 

"Hate is a strong word," she remarked and then smiled at him. "You don't hate me, do you... because if you let me, I can tell a story that happened to me and perhaps it might make you feel better."

Mason looked at her in a bleary and dejected sort of way. Her words made sesnse, of course. He didn’t really hate everyone. He felt like he had blundered through life for the past few days, and she was a ray of sunshine. And despite his harsh words, she did no more than smile pleasantly at him and offer an escape into the world of stories.

Mason took a moment to sniffle a bit and regain some composure before he replied to his friend. “No, I don’t hate you. An’ I’m not just saying that.” Mason reached his paw up to swipe it a few times in an ungainly manner across his eyes, trying to wipe away his grief. It had a similar effect to a chocolate fireguard.

”Can you tell me the story please.” Mason wanted nothing more than to feel better right now, and he hoped that a story would do that.

"It's not an entirely happy story," Osprey looked the young fellow in the eyes briefly, as if saying "I have warned you", "but it made believe that... loved ones never really leave you and are there, when you need them the most."

"I..." she paused, trying to find, where to begin the story. From the very start, when she had unsuccesfully tried to charm Dante or, where her state had caused a turmoil in the pack or... how it all had ended. Even a year later she could not think about these events without feeling guilt about, what had happened. 

"I was about to have puppies last spring. It was a very difficult time for me, I was afraid, confused and at odds with many pack-members. I also fell very ill along the way," she shuddered thinking about that time and was glad that she did not have to go in great detail. "And, when they were born... not one was breathing or living," she fell silent there for a bit.

"I was alone at that moment and my despair was beyond... anything. And then... I sort of had a feeling that my mother was there. She had been a tough and strong wolf during her life and - I can't be sure - but I believe that she was there, when I needed her the most. And... I asked her to keep those little souls safe. It felt so important at that moment and after that... it got a little easier. Knowing that she would keep a promise and take care of them," she looked at Mason, not expecting him to understand the depth of emotional pain. 

"My point is - whatever happens after we die, if a person has been close to you during your life a piece of it's soul always stays with you. That way you never really lose each other," she explained. "So, even though life seems like shit at the moment, remember that your father is still with you."

They spent the rest of the hours, wandering around Donnelaith, Osprey showing her favorite places and trying to cheer the boy up with stories - old and new - passed on by others or made up on the spot. And at the end of the day they parted as friends and the elder prayed that the fate would be gentle with the young wolf and that he may never be struck by a tragedy of similar kind ever again.