Wolf RPG - brief encounters

The wolves of the plateau had seen him off swiftly and without remorse, and it was this rejection that now fouled his mood. It had been days since he had seen another wolf. Part of this was caused by his own choice to avoid them. Keeping away from the thick stench upon the wind whenever he crossed near a territory edge meant that he could not be so thoroughly rejected a second time; he ached with the knowledge that he was unwanted. Was he unfit for them because he could not understand, or because he was young? Perhaps their ranks had swollen to a degree that would not account for one more mouth to feed. Whatever the case, Tiarnan was oblivious to it. He harboured a great sourness that should have abated by this point in his travels. Alas, it did not. His ego had been bashed askew, leaving him emotionally wounded in a manner that was difficult for him to correct. Time alone did not appear to be working out - but he was nervous now. Affected by the strangers that had intercepted him and unwilling to test the boundaries of other packs.

He tread across open land for quite some time before discovering another forest. The trees afforded a protective cover - one that he welcomed - but he caught the scent of more wolves as soon as he passed in to the dark confines of the tree line. Immediately Tiarnan was stiff-legged and unsure; he stalked along as a corporeal shadow with senses tingling. The boy moved in an uncharted arc - first north, then west through the trees. The terrain became more mountainous in the process, and the air soon grew dark and chilled with the passage in to evening. He stopped only when the forest thinned and the earth began to roll heavenward; implying that he had reached the distant mountain opposite to the plateau. The boy was hungry and on edge in this environment, and now such feelings of inadequacy increased with the fall of darkness around him.

Jinx and Lecter were gone, and had taken a sizable bite out of the Creek’s ranks on their way out. Ira, Sitri, and even Tyrande, who had been made to endure the shaman’s ritualistic abuse, no longer belonged to Fox. The split left a healthy core behind, and for the most part Bazi was happy about it - but she could not understand why Tyrande would willingly leave with a psychopathic abuser. Being young and headstrong, she decided that the only way to find out was to interrogate the wolf in question, and set off to do just that before the thought of rising had crossed the sun’s figurative mind.

By the time she reached the outskirts of Ravensblood Forest, it was late, and she tired, cranky, and beginning to question her motives for straying so far from the pack without a chaperone. Ferdie’s warnings whispered in the background of every thought, and she was becoming painfully aware of how ill-suited she was to the backdrop. The failing light did nothing to camouflage her - even in the faintest moonlight, the Creek wolf glowed like a beacon.

Tiarnán had the opposite problem. His scent betrayed him long before the sight of him did, and had he not stepped out from the cover of the trees, Bazi might have walked right into him. The stranger leggy and long, and there was a certain air of anxiety about the way he moved. He hadn’t come from the Creek, and she wondered if this was Jinx’s newest recruit (which would give her reason to be cautious, given the sort of company the former Beta seemed to attract).

”Hello?” Bazi woofed softly, stepping out from behind the cover of foliage. She kept her tail low and swaying softly, muscles tensed for flight.

From his vantage point he could barely see the mountain beyond. It rose in to the oncoming gloom and caught the dying embers of the sun, striking quite a figure as stars flared in to existence; but Tiarnan paid little heed to it. The boy set about finding a suitable place to bed for the night - he did not feel energized enough to wander in the darkness, despite it's advantages. He had barely turned around before he heard a voice calling out - the word itself meaningless, but the inflection questioning and uncertain. The boy sniffed a breath and swallowed his own nerves, figuring he had been found out after all and assuming, perhaps wrongly, that he would have to combat whoever had pursued him. With a bristling spine the boy roamed a few steps in to the forest once more, his eyes alighting upon the fey-light of the stranger.

And at first he didn't know what to do. She was clearly young like himself, and by the sound of her voice he determined she was surprised upon finding him. Her scent was somewhat of a mystery as well - clean, crisp, not at all woody like the plateau wolves; Tiarnan was struck dumb for a moment. When he regained his senses, ears fell back against his skull and he ducked his head in a submissive gesture, hoping that he was right and this ghost of a girl wasn't one of the plateau guardians. "Duit dia," He murmured softly, for he was tired and taken aback by the appearance of such a beautiful phantom.

Losing himself for a moment or two, he slipped a question in to the gaping silence, oblivious to the language gap. "An é seo do foraoise?"

They regarded each other for a brief and nervous moment, neither wanting conflict but lacking information to do much other than stare. Finally, Tiarnán fell into a graceful bow and said something that Bazi thought she had misheard - until he spoke a second, clearer sentence that she still did not understand, but recognized as a question.

”Oh!” she murmured, putting two and two together, ”You must think the forest claimed.. No, it’s not mine. .. erm… ” Bazi quelled the urge to raise her voice and repeat the exact same words a second time, because what good would that do? Instead, she copied his bow and posture, patted the ground with a forepaw and shook her head a few times. ”Not mine.”

The charade continued with a long look in a southeasterly direction and an in-air doggie paddle. When that seemed ridiculous, she scratched two parallel lines into the ground and performed an energetic montage of drinking, fishing, and paddling. ”Swiftcurrent Creek,” she told him, patting her drawing, and turned to look in the direction of home a second time. With any luck, he would at least understand that she meant him no harm.

At first he only gazed upon her, expectant. It became clear very quickly that the stranger did not speak his own language - again, a rude awakening to the world. Had his people dwindled and died out everywhere? The thought caused his ears to temporarily slick back; however, Tiarnan did not stay solemn for long. The pale girl began to mime for him, at first patting the ground and shaking her head, then moving on to a flurry of motions with a few dirt-drawings. The quick span of time (and his level of distraction) proved him to be a poor listener. Tiarnan remained stupefied by the girl, more so now than before, and yet.. He was content with this.

"Teer-non." He tried to enunciate the sounds of his name, figuring it would help things if he tried an introduction - but he remained stock still, making the sounds somewhat useless. The boy clued in to that a moment later, realizing that the language barrier was indeed a real thing. Swallowing some nerves, he tried to ignore the creeping darkness and the weariness that began to set in with it - motioning with a bow of his head as he spoke again, "Teer-non." But what good would that do? With a worried glow to his dark eyes, the boy held a dim hope that she would understand - and lifted his head. The next thing he did was approach her, and he did this slowly, without the usual confidence or boastful flourish in his movement; "Tiarnan," he repeated, this time a bit quieter, and motioned to himself - then he carefully poked his nose against her shoulder, with a lilting question. "Ainm?"

Bazi finished her routine with a flourish, and turned - panting - to look at Tiarnán. Her face fell when she saw only confusion (and mild horror) playing on his features. She had every intention of making some excuse to depart and continuing on her way - it was dark now, and they both needed shelter - but the stranger's next word kept her rooted. Teer-non. Tiarnan? He repeated it slowly, several times, and motioned at himself.

For someone that seemed so intent on communicating through interpretive dance, it took Bazi quite some time to figure out this most basic gesture. "Oh!" she breathed, looking smilingly into Tiarnán's warm, brown eyes. "Bazi," she returned, "Baa-zee. 'Ainm' Bazi. My name is Bazi." She paused there. The darkness was physically pressing in on them now. Following the loner's example, she restricted herself to a single word: "Sleep?" Bazi's head drooped to the side and she shut her eyes, faking snores. Ferdie would probably disagree with this flattering demonstration of how she slept, but Tiarnán wasn't to know - yet.

2cute4me

At first it seemed as if his efforts would be in vain, for her face showed little recognition as he spoke and motioned to himself. He was growing impatient, but mostly despaired that the first good interaction he had with another wolf of the wilds would be so awkward. If she didn't understand then he would simply shrug it off and be on his way - but Tiarnan was still lonely, and the disconnect did hurt him somewhat. His breath caught in his chest when she exclaimed - "Oh!" - and then her eyes, so bright and cheerful, drew him in.

"Baa-zee," She stated, sounding out the short word which he assumed was her name - and then the pale girl clarified, imitating the ainm he had huffed in her direction; "Name," the boy parroted and as the sounds rolled from his tongue he gave a nod, energized by her understanding. With a happy hop the youth moved around her - only to catch a rock or some sort of debris and nearly trip upon his own legs. Clumsy fool. He was halfway to the ground when Bazi spoke again, and after a short scramble to get properly upright he witnessed her display.

Sleep seemed like a good idea.

But then he realized she was asking... To sleep with him. Now, Tiarnan wasn't a dirty minded individual; if he was, he'd have caught upon the innuendo there instantly. No, he was far too dim for that; however, the boy was a bit doe-eyed at the thought of bedding with a stranger at all. He swallowed a lump in his throat and gave a little shrug, "Sleep." Tiarnan wheezed softly, nervously, but stood rigid and still beside her. What was he supposed to do.

Totes adorbs. :')

Ainm, ainm, ainm, ainm Bazi repeated internally, determined to remember the word. The exchange had established a tiny thread between their two languages, and given them a tool to expand each other's vocabulary. Everything had an ainm, after all.

Tiarnán seemed positively elated by their progress. Bazi wondered if he had attempted to communicate with anyone else, and how well that had gone down. Judging by the fact that he was alone, she guessed badly - otherwise they might have offered him shelter against the darkness. Packs in the Teekon Wilds were made up of stragglers, and this one was both healthy and handsome (something she had most definitely not been when Fox had welcomed her into the Creek).

Tiarnán's attempt at showing her the dance of his people ended in the most spastic dance move Bazi had ever seen. She stifled a chortle, and waited until he stood solidly on all four beside her. "Sleep," he repeated, less enthused this time. Bazi couldn't for the life of her figure out why. It was late, wasn't it? And without a pack, how long would it have been since this guy ate? It didn't even occur to her that sharing a stranger's warmth was anything but normal. It was cold - neither of them wanted to be alone - they had exchanged ainms now - it only made sense to bunk together.

But Bazi was the wolf equivalent of the type of human that flings their clothes off in the changing room and struts around; Tiarnán was the kind that changed in the a bathroom stall or awkwardly inside a towel. She gave him a quizzical look, then - without invitation - pushed her muzzle under his chin and offered a few comforting licks. He must just be scared of the dark, she reasoned, ignorant of the fact that it was a puff of white, not the all-encompassing black, that had Tiarnán on his toes.

She snaked towards him quite suddenly and, with a nudge to his dark chin, began to lick at his face. This didn't help the situation very much, aside from completely petrifying Tiarnan; his eyes widened briefly although only the meagre shine could be seen, and his tail curled against his hocks. It wasn't until she was lavishing affection upon him that Tiarnan truly realized those adult connotations. His thoughts meandered to dark and lusty places, most of which ended with the boy envisioning Khatera's face - the woman who had riled his spirits previously, and then outright abandoned him. There was a neediness in the boy that overruled his awkward apprehension. This fuelled him now as he reached for Bazi, simultaneously avoiding any further warmth from her tongue and wrapping around her in an embrace; he twined his dark self between the shadows and the ghost.

There was something about the embrace that transcended friendliness. This wasn't like falling asleep next to Ferdie - that much was clear to Bazi, but a thick fog of innocence obscured the finer details of what was happening. She was Tiarnán's junior by four months, and lacked the experiences that had propelled him prematurely into adulthood. The previously awkward youth emerged from his shell at her touch, coiling his sleek, dark body around hers. Bazi's heart quickened in her chest. A strange sensation blossomed hotly in her chest, pinking her cheeks beneath sleek, white fur. ".. what're you doing?" she murmured - pointlessly - in the vicinity of a black ear.

The embrace did not last very long. No sooner had he draped around her did she speak - and, expecting protest in her words, he interpreted the sleepy quiet of her tone to be as such. Tiarnan withdrew after that, sliding around her like a leggy shadow. His ears flicked out sideways from his head, briefly apologetic for the encroachment upon her personal space, but then they twisted forward, and the boy rumbled a low, "Sleep?" as if to draw her in to the trees. If she did want to rest with him - connotations aside - they would need a proper location. The forest was ripe with strange scents and now, the oncoming dark of night. It would be safer for both of them to find a secluded place to nest. Although he wished to speak to her in his own language, Tiarnan knew it would be pointless. He was too tired to mime what he wanted from her, and so the boy slipped in to the shadows - keeping close, but roaming with his steps over roots and through the brush.

As he wandered, Tiarnan thought about what had just happened. The sound of her voice being so confused, but the feeling of her tongue sliding against his face. He was smitten for sure, lusting after the connection he once had with Khatera and also desperate for company. He wasn't sure about what the ghost wanted, but he would give her anything if it meant she would stay. Desperation was a pithy beast indeed. The path he followed led through some low branches which smelled lightly of rodent, and as he tracked the smell the boy found a ruined depression in the earth. It was likely that rabbits had once lived here, when there was a hollow in the ground. Someone had uprooted it, leaving a bowl of dirt which was rather large. He lifted his head and called out, "Bazi!" and then set his eyes upon the surrounding shadows, hoping she had not abandoned him too.

Tiarnán slunk gracefully away, and the feeling cooled. Bazi watched him with wide, glassy eyes, acknowledging but not quite understanding his apologetic look with a soft nod and a softer smile. Before she could say anything, he had melted into the darkness. Bazi remained where she was, curious to see if the encounter would end there - if this was it.

He was.. sweet. But so was Ferdie - and Bones, and neither of them made her blood rush through as though it were late for something. As frustrating as it was, there was something wonderfully mysterious about the language barrier. Even if Tiarnán had wanted to answer her question, he couldn't - and she was equally incapable of telling him about the strange feelings he had roused in her.

Her own name rang out in the darkness, startling the ghostly female out of her thoughts. Without a word, she loped into the trees, reflecting even the dimmest ambient light as though it were the full glare of the moon. She tracked Tiarnán's now instantly recognizable scent to a dip in the ground, sheltered by the roots of the fallen tree that had created it. She would need to bathe in the morning, but it would do as a temporary refuge. "Thank you," she told him smilingly, and stepped delicately into the bowl. "Sleep?"

There was a shuffling sound in the underbrush before she emerged - and when she did, the girl was bathed in light he otherwise would not have seen. Imbibed by it, Bazi became akin to a firebug - the thought roused a smirk to his hooded face - and then her voice, quiet but pleased, brought about the toss of his tail. The muttered thank you sat in his mind and he recited it mentally a few times while she approached, dainty in her motions as the proximity lessened. "Sleep?" She queried, and he gave a succinct nod. "Sea, codlata-- ah," he dipped his head slightly when he realized the slip back to his usual language, and then corrected himself, "Codlata, sleep."

With that explained (even briefly) Tiarnan fell quiet again and paced backward, thumping down on to his rear so that he was sitting before Bazi. A stark black silhouette next to her ivory perfection. With a slip of one bony limb he plopped to his chest and then to his side, bracing himself against one of the naturally formed walls of dirt; roots arched above his head, reminiscent of thick spider legs. He watched her for a few moments, unsure of what she would do, but he was tired and the comfortable spot made his eyelids begin to droop.

"Codlata," Bazi repeated slowly, shuffling into the square created by his four long limbs. She hesitated there for a moment, looking down at Tiarnán's dark face. In the gloom of the forest, it was difficult to see anything except faint white reflections in his red-brown eyes. Darkness was as much his ally as it was her nemesis; she felt suddenly exposed, every expression plainly visible even in the half-light.

Gently, she lowered her lithe little body next to his, curling into a loose ball with her nose pressed against one dark foreleg. With Ferdie, she took liberties - the daylight would often find her splayed unladylike across her adoptive father's body, legs pointing in all directions. Here, she was suddenly conscious of every limb. They were complete strangers, cuddled up in a forest that belonged to neither of them, in the shadow of a viscous wolf's domain.

"Bazi and Tiarnán codlata," she murmured, finally allowing exhaustion to dull her mind.

She stood before him for a moment, perhaps rethinking the situation. A feeling in the pit of his stomach - like it was filled with firebugs - made him quite uncomfortable. Tiarnan hoped she would not leave so suddenly. The fear of abandonment was abated when she slid to the earth beside him, leaning upon his own dark silhouette. Her warmth was comforting and somewhat familiar, although, Khatera would not have been so eager to close the proximity. With her there was always a price; but with Bazi, at least as far as he knew, things were simpler.

She muttered something but Tiarnan wasn't listening closely. He was more taken in by the lull of her breath as she began to drift to sleep. While he was very tired, her closeness kept him from truly falling away in to a restful state; he watched her quietly, lowering his chin to the ground below in case she was still awake and watching, but Tiarnan would remain coherent even as the deep dark of night wrapped about them. The darkness was a great blanket, and Bazi the only light. He guarded her in part to protect her, and in part because he was greedy. Tiarnan did not have many friends in the wilds. Bazi had become one, but he couldn't know for how long.

Gradually (and against his own desires) Tiarnan did begin to slow in his breathing. He groggily pressed himself closer to Bazi, adjusting a chocolate limb in to a fold so that he could rest upon it. As he fell in to a thin sleep, the boy's head slid off of it's perch and nestled in to the ghost's scruff, where his breath would steadily slide across her skin.

[fade!]