Wolf RPG

Nightingale creeped away from Ferdie's den. She had been unable to sleep, no matter how hard she tried. She decided to take a brisk walk to watch the sun go up.

At the river bank, the young wolf caught a small fish for herself, and settled down on a flat rock to watch the sun rise. Turmoil ran maniacally inside her head. Today was it. This could be her last sunrise.

She was unsure. It's true, she had learned several things that were vital to the pack... Even going so far as to learn medicinal care as a healer... But was it enough? That was the question.

She was on the verge of tears when she looked up at the moon, it's glow about to be bombarded by the sun's rays. Softly, she began to sing to herself, thinking no one was around, and her voice grew louder as she continued the song, her voice harmonious, to where even the morning lark stopped to listen.

Do you dream that world will know your name
So tell me your name
And do you care about all the little things
Or anything at all
I wanna' feel all the energy inside
I wanna' feel
I wanna sunburn just to know that I'm alive
To know I'm alive
Don't tell me if I'm dyin'
'Cause I don't wanna' know
If I can't see the sun, then maybe I should go
Don't wake me 'cause I'm dreamin'
Of angels on the moon
Where everyone you know never leaves too soon

Do you believe in the day that you were born, Tell me do believe
And do you know that every day's the first of the rest of your life
Don't tell if I'm dyin'
'Cause I don't wanna' know
If I can't see the sun, then maybe I should go
Don't wake me ' cause I'm dreamin'
Of angels on the moon
Where everyone you know never leaves too soon

This is to one last day in the shadows
And to know a brother's love
This is to Swiftcurrent Creek sisters
An the rivers of our blood
This is to all of us
To all of us
Don't tell me if I'm dyin'
'Cause I don't wanna' know
If I can't see the sun, then maybe I should go
Don't wake me 'cause I'm dreamin'
Of angels on the moon
Where everyone you know never leaves too soon
Yeah, you can tell me all your thoughts about the stars that fill the moonlit skies
And show me where you run to, when no one's left to take your side
Don't tell me where the road ends, 'cause I just don't wanna' know
No I don't wanna' know, oh...

Don't tell me if I'm dyin'
Don't tell me if I'm dyin'!

Nightingale finished her song in slight tears, but she was smiling. She always felt better after she sings. She made herself more comfortable as she watched the sun make its way to morning.

Though Bazi had her reservations about the doe-eyed whelp that Ferdie had ushered into the Creek, she wanted to be there for the final judgment. The Creek Gamma had been careful not to form a personal attachment to Nightingale, busying herself with gamekeeping and outrider duties for the week leading up to this day. It would not have done her heart good to get to know someone that might be ripped away, and this was just a pup. It was very hard to see a pup as anything other than sweet and innocent; especially one so obsessed with pretty song as this one was.

She waited for a moment before following the youngster, and sat down at the mouth of the den to watch what she would do from a distance. The poor beggar could fish well enough now, and seemed less feeble than when she had first arrived. This was a good sign. She sang like a bird, whatever use that was; perhaps she could be taught to entertain and immortalize Creek lore in song.

Still - Fox might decide that with Tuwawi's impending litter, the Creek would have plenty of tiny lives to look after soon enough. She wondered if Nightingale would be left to wander the wilderness alone, in that case. Ferdie would hardly be made to end her life if she could fish for herself, surely.

Nightingale felt eyes on her and turned her head towards the den, thinking it was Ferdie. Her own eyes widening at Bazi. She couldn't help but admire the Artic wolf' spelt that glowed like she fell from the stars herself. She flicked her ears back in embarrassment and nodded in hello from afar before turning her head back to the sunrise, silent.

The little songbird nodded a hello. Bazi nodded back. They had broken the ice a day or so prior - the short scouting mission had inevitably bonded the two wolves, even it was just by a single thread. The older female took a few steps forward - only enough to maintain a conversation without shouting - and sat back down, front paws prettily aligned and tail lightly curled behind her.

"Are you nervous?" she asked, never one to beat around the bush.

Nightingale tilted her head, stopping her crying and replacing it for a sad smile. Usually, Nightingale was childish, flighty. It took one to realize she was often like this to hide hurt or uncertainty. This morning, however, she seemed to be more on the mature side.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous... Or scared, for that matter... Funny, you take something as beautiful as this morning for granted, until you realize that this could be your last morning... The last sunrise, the last lark song, the last morning dew smell..."

The tiny wolf took in a deep inhale, closing her eyes for a moment. Her smile broadened a little.

"But I will admit, if this is my last day, I'm not gonna be wasting it. I never watched a sunrise before..."

Ferdie sat a far distance off, stoic, Paws in front tail flat behind him, he stared at Nightingale down his muzzle, he had done his best to prepare her, but perhaps he had left the most important part of her training out. A spar. His heart ached, the male counted his breaths keeping everything inside him, his gnawing hunger faded as his emotional turmoil jumped up another notch, his pelt dull and lacking luster his body thin and less like a warrior now.

Her song reached his ears and though he wanted nothing more then to join her song, for he loved to sing as well he did not. His heart was to heavy. More then just this weighed upon his heart. He didn't move a muscle perhaps frozen in time his thoughts his own.

His square posture as he sat unmoving did not invite conversation or welcome company.

Bazi turned to look at the wondrous panorama of light and colour. Knowing what Nightingale might be facing made it look flat, and dull. The last lark song? Bazi tried to imagine herself so resigned to her fate, but couldn't - even considering the possibility made her skin crawl with the desperation to fight, or flee. It was a distant shadow of the mind-numbing terror she had felt when the sickness had overwhelmed her previous pack, plunging one wolf after the other into a feverish delirium that she or anyone else was powerless to stop.

Bazi flattened her ears, grimacing until the memory gathered its vibrant films and scuttled into a dark corner, leaving her retinas to cool in darkness. "You should fight," the Gamma half-admonished, "You sound like you think it's out of your hands."

She smiled again. "I have been. I have been trying to. But alas, sometimes trying isn't enough. I don't know if I made it, Bazi, but I sure as hell will try my best today."

She turned back to the sunrise, laying on her belly. "But until then, I'll enjoy the little things in life. It is out of my hands, Bazi, I may try my best, but the final judgement is Fox's, is it not?"

Bazi snorted. The pup's attitude was very zen, and it made a lot of sense to be that way - if she failed to meet up to Fox's expectations, it would be the end of her whether she was sent away or put down by Ferdie. But Bazi wanted drive in her pack-mates - she wanted fire.

"Do you feel ready?" she asked instead. There was no point in trying to cram anything else in - certainly not sparring. Either Nightingale would pass her probation, or she wouldn't.

The Halfling closed her eyes, took a deep breath, exhaled, and opened them again.

"Yes."

That one word held many emotions. Fear, anxiety, hope and despair alike, and a hint of determination.

She turned towards Bazi, her eyes displaying a torrent of emotions. She smiled, a sad, yet hopeful smile, before turning back and closing her eyes. Her ears twitched as the larks sang the morning away, and she slowly ate her fish, smiling and tasting each succulent bite.

"Yes."

Good girl, Bazi thought, feeling a sudden swell of pride. This whelp would do fine - and if she went down, she would go down fighting. That was all anyone could do.

"Then good luck," she told the pup emphatically, "You are welcome back here." If you make it, but those words were not said. The invitation would please Ferdie, and Bazi was not entirely against the idea, either. Busy though she was, the pearly youth had noticed that Ferdie seemed to be degrading before their very eyes. He was perilously thin for someone with so large a frame, and his eyes lacked luster. She doubted this transformation was solely the result of shadowing young women, high-maintenance though they could be.

Bazi turned back towards the den, shooting her adopted father a worried look as she passed. Now was not the time to delve into his issues - but later, when Nightingale's fate had been decided, she would approach him.

"Thank you, Bazi." Nightingale whispered. She watched the arctic wolf cast a worried glance over Ferdie. The little pup shared Bazi's worries.

If I make it, the pup stopped herself. No, when I make it, the first thing I'll do is return his favor...

Nightingale turned towards the sunrise, letting the rays hit her fur and blind her good eye for a few moments.