Wolf RPG

the great stretch of sea and sand had grown on him, no matter how foreign it had seemed. the dark-hooded savage had taken to venturing out further than he had the day before so that he could map the earth that he covered; he wanted to know it. more than that, he felt a great deal of shame after their wicked battle atop the cliffs. they had gone in search of the wolf rosalyn and had returned with nothing but violent wounds and the ache of suffering.

the length of his limbs carried him swiftly along the shore and up the stretch of earth until he was in the heart of woodland. the length of the trees loomed over his head and cast dark shadows against the pale ash of his cloak. the hawkish yellow of his stare seemed to glimmer against the dismal fraction of sunlight that spilled through. illidan hunkered himself low and prowled beneath the boughs, melding in with the shadows and learning the land as well as he could.

The yearling had began to map out several different territories, it was nice to get an idea of the lay of the lands. His paws stretched out in all sorts of different directions, picking a landscape was like rolling the dice; all pure luck. Today his journey had taken him towards the Horizontal Ridge, a forest-like area with a rubble of rocks. It was here he researched more about the violence of nature as his paws drifted across the leftovers from the rockslide. It was difficult and troubling to imagine how the territory would look before the rockslide had taken place. He edged close to the woodlands that would provide comfort and shelter whenever his Indiana Jones adventure would come to an end. 

With a soft yawn, opening up his mouth and exposing his teeth to the world for few seconds, Epic realized it was time to search for a place to rest. The lone wanderer walked towards the woodlands until he completely submerged into them. Walking a zig-zagging pattern, the yearling male crossed many, many trees until he was deep into the heartlands. Aimlessly his paws walked for hours upon end until fatigue had taken over. However still, every now and then he saw a glimmer and glance of two eyes. Those eyes didn't look at him, but past him and beyond. It was only faintly that he caught the scent of another wolf. But who was out there? "Hey shadow walker, I do notice you!" This wolf was probably a champion at playing hide and seek.

a voice startled him and all at once, his coat bristled, and his lip peeled to reveal the dangerous glint of an ivory canine. the savage’s hawkish gaze roamed through the dark woods in search of the ghost that had called out – had named him as a shadow walker. it did not do him well to react so swiftly without allowing his mind to tell him where the stranger was hiding. the flood of adrenaline that coursed through his veins was electric in its feel. illidan forced himself to breathe deeply and to draw his ears forward to listen for sounds of rustling beyond what he could see.
 
it was then that he caught sight of the slate-coated figure with ghostly argent eyes. for only a moment, illidan believed that he had truly sighted a spirit from beyond. when he reminded himself just how foolish that thought was, he shook it from his skull and leveled his head. “notice all you like,” the young savage responded in a voice that seemed gruffer than it had before. the sound of it was enough to shake him again, but only in a way that lifted his hackles along his back.

The little amount of sunlight that penetrated through the winter-like canopy of naked trees clouded his eyesight. His golden eyes savored what little sunlight was given to carefully analyze the shadowy silhouette of the young boy scurrying through the woodlands. The young male was fierce in his response and Epic of course didn't blame him; they were strangers to each other and it was actually a sign of intelligence to remain cautious. His almost feline-like appearance and jagged features reminded him of something, or rather someone. 

"Well.." Epic pondered carefully for a moment as his thoughts tried to uncover the identity of the other wolf that came to his mind. Aha! It was the sea witch that was covered in blood, a sure sign of a fight and war that was fought but not entirely over. She spoke of dangers along the shoreline. His fuzzy mind suddenly remembered the details vaguely. "You remind of of someone. I met her also on this territory, she was hurt; covered in wounds and carrying along with her the scent of blood. She had fought. But she was also proud and fierce, a little bit like you. I'm sorry -- you just reminded me of her." He looked very much like his mother; Illidan had a touch of her personality and fierceness but they also looked alike. Although Epic of course didn't know the two were related or in what way.

it was peculiar that the stranger would find commonplace in the young man and his mother so swiftly. at least, illidan found it odd. in truth, it made sense that a young man who was prowling through the woods with injuries to his frame would be associated with the sea witch of similar nature. it did not help that he was identical in coloration and pattern to the wild woman. his nature had been adapted differently because of the circumstances that he had endured. for all of his suffering and all of his loss, illidan had found an adoration and admiration with his father... and he aspired to be like the old man.

“my mother,” the young ghost responded in a sharp tone. he drew his crown upward and stepped through the shadows so that his frame would be revealed more clearly to the slate-coated stranger. as for the injuries that she had suffered, illidan was not sure that he wished to comment on the war that raged on between the cliff wolves and the sound. “who are you?” the savage inquired sharply, narrowing his brows into a tight line over his hawkish gaze. he should have liked to take the name with him back to caiaphas to let her know that her acquaintances prowled the woods.

Well, these next few moments turned out to be quite a revelation. Like a ghost, the other male spoke almost in hushed tones, words crossing his ears like faint whispers. However, the very few words that slipped from his tongue created a rather interesting twist. "Your mother?" Well, well, well. Epic raised an eyebrow, not expecting this to be a brood of the sea witch. However when Illidan revealed more of himself, he could see the similarities. Both had the same coloration. Both were also savage. But this young boy, he had different mannerism and an almost spectre-like demeanor. If he had the same, salty sea lungs as his mother; the sea was a bit further away from his soul. 

"You look the same and yet the two of you are so different." Epic couldn't help but to mention his thoughts; although he just met the young male seconds ago. Sometimes first impressions did count. Truthfully, Epic cared not for the local politics, the war that raged on or the feud between packs. He was a lone wolf, without a pack scent and thus, without loyalties (for now). "I met here on these same grounds." Epic informed, then added. "Somehow I like being close to the water." Maybe a random tidbit of information that would betray why his reasons to be here. "I'm Epic, who are you?"

did i stutter? the boy wanted to snap back when his words had been repeated in a questioning tone. instead, he held his tongue and nodded his head once to confirm that he had indeed said she was his mother. it was then that the stranger seemed to remark on their shared appearances, but their different personalities. it was something that illidan had often wondered about, but he had never actually found someone who had commented on it. part of it stung his chest to think that he had been turned away from being like his family because of where he had been raised. the ghostly boy wondered if this wolf had ever met his father, what he would have said about his similarities with the old ashen brute.
 
“i was separated from her for a while… so i didn’t learn how to be like her,” he explained with a small shrug of his shoulders. he did not want for this slate-coated stranger to know how much it bothered him that he’d been pulled away from his family at such a young age. it wasn’t any of his business, after all. he commented that he had met the boy’s mother on the same stretch of land, and then he introduced himself as epic. it was an interesting name, that was for sure.
 
“my name’s illidan,” the young ghost returned with a curt nod of his head. “you know, if you like the water so much… why don’t you just join a pack on the coast?”

"Oh, I see." Epic commented when he explained the boy didn't turn out like his mother other than with their savage, raw looks. The lanky male was unsure how to speak about it further; he wasn't about to pry into a family history that wasn't his own. And like Illidan, Epic also had to learn to be ..like himself instead of chasing the shadows of someone else, be it a mother or a father (like in Illidan's case) or that of heroes that turned to life only in the stories (like in Epic's case). 

"She reminds me of the wild and savage seas." And I do see parts of you in you. Epic thought but didn't speak that last part. That might have been a little too much; especially since they just met. But there was certainly no doubt about one thing; Capahias was the sea, savage, wicked and wild. 

"A pleasure to meet, Illidan." Epic admitted with a small nodd of his head before turning into a pensive mode as the young boy spoke with wise words. Hmm. "I might -- I mean it sounds appealing -- but I know very little of the coastal packs here. Are there many? I mean your mother didn't speak fondly of all of them." Not speaking fondly was rather underestimating the truth.

epic had learned something valuable in his time – something that illidan had not yet found a way to grasp. see, while the young ghost did everything that he could to be more like his parents, epic had discovered what it meant to be entirely himself. that was certainly something that would have done the wildling good, but not something that he had ever thought about. more than anything, he wanted to be like his father with the same sharp mind as his mother. he felt as though he had missed a great opportunity in his absence from the woman.

it seemed that the other man had found himself at a common opinion of the sea witch. caiaphas was terrifying in many ways, and illidan was grateful that they shared blood with each other. it only meant that there was a portion of her that existed inside of him, and he hoped that it was not simply the colors that adorned his cloak. the young ghost prayed that he carried some of her fierceness within him.

on the subject of the other coastal packs, the young man furrowed his brow and frowned in a thoughtful manner. the only one he could imagine being spoken poorly of was drageda. he didn't know much about any of the others, though. “well, you could always join us,” he commented with a small shrug of his shoulder. he didn't mind epic in any way – he seemed genuine in his words and actions up to that point. “but you won't hear kind words about drageda from me or my mother,” illidan then added with a firm nod. then, he offered a ghostly smile and shook his head to the other male. "but i don't know much about the others."

Although Epic was no mind reader and his guess work was often wrong, Illidan was not right with his estimate that the Twiddlestick-male had found himself. While the Rusalka beta held memories, experiences and thoughts of his parents, some happy and some sad, Epic had none. His heroes were maybe sticky, fantasy figures; replacing who could and would have been a parent. Having a black-out about his past, his former pack and parents meant he had to come up with something else. Though he had no idea just how big this issue seemed to be; but everything from his ethics to his feelings of right and wrong were partly shaped on stories instead of experiences.

"Join you, hmmm?" The lone wolf gave it a pensive thought; even if future events would spin him towards the Firebirds because of his friend Wraen, he felt honored that Illidan would even consider him. "What's Rusalka like?" Epic questioned, leaving the more 'hostile' pack out of the picture since it became clear with Illidan's tidbits of information that it were these wrotten wolves the sea witch had spoken about. At the same time, had Epic known that Capaihas was Alpha he might have reacted more nervous. Somehow an Alpha made him stutter. "What sort of wolves would fit the pack?"

Epic wondered not knowing what the future would bring; if Firebirds was his indefinate home or whether he would spread his wings -- it was never wrong to learn about the lay of the lands and the packs who resided here.

the question that arrived was a difficult one for the young man to answer. he wasn’t positive what he could have compared rusalka to. his limited pack experience had been that when he had been nothing more than a whelp, and then what he had learned while on the plateau. for the most part, the wolves of the plateau and the wolves of the sound were relatively similar. it was about the pack, at all times. they had gone to war for one of their own. that should have said something powerful about who they were and their loyalty to one another.
 
still, it was challenging to place that into words in order to share them with someone who knew nothing about either of his homes. he had often thought that his sales pitch of the beach pack would either make or break the possibility of someone else joining. so, he did what he could to describe the experience of rusalka in as few words as he could manage.
 
“it’s a good home. the pack is one and we will defend any of our own with our lives. when you’re a member of rusalka, you can rest knowing that all of its numbers are at your back,” the young man responded with a small nod. whether or not that was true, he felt as though it suited their pack well enough. while he didn’t think that his mother would risk the lives of their members for something foolish, he did know that she had a strong affinity toward protecting what she believed to be hers.
 
“some of us are a little rough around the edges, though,” illidan then added with a sheepish shrug.

Even if Epic in the nearby future would join a pack other than Rusalka, he was always keen to learn about other packs. Not only because he was a true adventurer and traveller by heart, mapping out the lay of the land and the packs was valuable. And even moreso, a future was always uncertain. While the Firebirds had given him a home, it was still uncertain if it also meant having a family and feeling a connection with the other wolves. At the moment he sometimes felt lonely, like an outsider because everyone was connected by blood. And selfishly so, in the near future everyone else would be absorbed by puppies and it was yet to be seen what kind of effect that would bring on Epic; whether he would truly feel at home or not.

As Illidan began to describe his home, he listened intently. As he said that everyone got each other's back, he felt a little like a musketeer; all for one and one for all. Then Epic nodded understandably as it was good to hear the pack supported each other because that was the essence of every strong pack. "Thank-you for your honesty." Epic said while smirking lighty at the comment that some were rough around the edges. "I'll make sure to visit the borders soon." Because that way Epic could check Rusalka out, get a first impression and he had promised his mother a gift.

About that gift, hmm. Epic suddenly remembered something, like a light bulb being switched on. "Speaking of being rough around the edges, hmm." He said (maybe annoyingly so rephrasing Illidan's words, but it wasn't meant to be irritating). "I asked your mother what excites her the most." It was the question he required to find her the perfect gift. "And I would have expected an answer based on bloodshed, violence, fighting and war - but her answer was: my children." It was information he didn't want to withold Illidan, even if they just met.

the young man wasn’t convinced that he was really all that capable at recruiting strangers. he had gathered wyatt and firefly, but one of them was a cripple and he had tried to drown the other one in the ocean during their first encounter. in truth, he skills were severely lacking when it came to making rusalka sound appealing to loners. mostly, he wasn’t all that sure that he could speak to what it was that drew a wild creature into settling down when there was so much to explore out beyond where they were.
 
lost in these thoughts for a moment, the young ghost almost missed the comment that had been offered to him. ’speaking about rough around the edges…’ epic had repeated in a tone that was almost trying a little too hard to be conversational. thankfully, illidan was far too daft to pick up on that. he only barely was able to latch his sights to the slate-coated man before having the surprising conversing piece delivered to him, shock him.
 
“what?” he said daftly, blinking a few times. “she said that?” he then asked, brow furrowing intensely across his sunbeam gaze. he couldn’t imagine his mother speaking of him that fondly. she was a teacher to him. she taught him practical things, like how to search for food in the tide pools. illidan did not see her as having such an emotional reply. “she… must have been kidding.”