Wolf RPG

their journey to the coast was coming nigh to an end; indra was ahead of @Laurel and @Marten, her heart thumping rhythmically in excitement. the scent of the coast was foreign and exhilarating to the redleaf, who had never been this close to something as imperceptibly immense as the ocean.

she could hear, see, and smell the endless waters now -- how vast and interminable the coast appeared, the great grey-white of the waters sinking well past the horizon -- well past the bend of the earth! she drank it all in with a wide-eyed stare, limbs trembling as she crested a peculiar mound (the very same mound that the fields were named after) so that she might see more of the confounding ocean.

the gods had been kind to her, the day she. . .died? she had teetered on the edge of oblivion and some invisible hand had pushed her back, as if to say—no. not yet. and who could deny fate? death comes when it is ready; it was not ready for her, yet.

but the fall had taken much from her. memories, for one. she woke with an empty, pounding head, no knowledge of who she was or how she got there. her bones ached; one leg was twisted beneath her at a gruesome angle. she was littered with cuts and contusions, and nauseous, to boot.

slowly, everything came back to her. but it took time. a group of coyotes on the plains discovered her, one of them kind enough—she was shocked—to nurse her back to health. she hunted with them for nearly two moons, enjoying the pleasure of their wily company. she was small enough that she fit the mold. cunning enough, too.

but the rolling flatlands returned to her the life she had lost. khorasan. the luks. conquest. the sardonically-nicknamed 'climber' was now tashkent again. the barbarian princess had returned to herself.

with some sadness, she parted with the coyotes, for while they were a beloved band of comrades, they were not family. the luks were all she held dear, and the luks she must seek out. the crashing of waves in a nearby sea were what called to her now, and so like a gull to the coast, she flew. ungainly, still, with a hind leg still on the mend—but for the first time in a long time, now, she feels free.

the brown-pelted woman nearby is like a shadow-figure from her dreams; tashkent knows her, but not by name, nor could she speak to where the she-wolf came from. the luk drifted toward the other, eyes at once sharp and soft, intrigued but gently inquisitive. not one of her sisters or cousins, for her eyes are a gold and not the sea-green she remembers. . .but someone meaningful. someone known.

i know you, tasha croons, though perhaps not with the same swagger as she would have offered the sentiment before. she still holds an air of mystery, but there is a childlike element to her speech now, like a toddler discovering new things for the first time. i know your face. do you know my face?

indra had seen the lone silhouette, having clambered atop a peculiar mound so that she might be afforded a better vantage. the figure seemed familiar - at once a nagging memory crested the surface and quickly subsided, leaving the redleaf woman troubled and frowning.

when the form drew closer, indra recognized her -- though she realized she recalled no name. had they not exchanged names in their last meeting? her brow furrowed, and she observed the woman with a detached expression, finding her much more haggard and rough for wear than the last time their paths had crossed...

but then again... so was she, wasn't she?

"you do," she answered, ears askance with uncertainty -- for why wouldn't the woman remember? what had happened to dredge her memories so? "i do. 'love the cock, ignore the mouth.' do you remember?" her tone and expression remained level, though a slight gleam glimmered in her mahogany gaze.

ah, so her suppositions are correct. of course the other is confused as to why, exactly, the knowledge had left tashkent. the princess herself has had trouble putting it all together; she remembers a very high place, and a feeling as if her heart and stomach have plummeted. a fall, then. and she had roused with broken bones and a blank mind.

tasha snickers at the phrase. that sounds like something i would say, she says mirthfully, the same kind of gleam entering her eyes as well. so we are acquainted. i had an accident, and my memories left me. it took a moon or so to regain them. she has only heard tales of this kind of tragedy. never could she have imagined that it would have happened to her.

unfortunately, i have not yet regained my family, tashkent continues, her voice grave. they all look like me, with dark fur and green eyes. have you seen them, woman? for she is still ignorant of the other's name, even if they had exchanged them previously.

an accident appeared the reason for tashkent's lack of recollection, news in which drew a troubled frown anew from the redleaf. had it truly been an accident -- circumstance appointed by some higher celestial order (or perhaps, no order at all, just a series of chaotic events, strung along by the stimulant events which precipitated them?) or had someone struck her down?

she shook her head, moreso admonishing her own line of thoughts over anything. when had she become so critical and jaded that her first thought was to jump to preposterous and malign conclusions?

solemnly, indra inspected the woman once more, sorry to hear she had yet to reunite with her family. indra knew that nettle sting all too well.

"i have not seen them; last we met, i didn't even get your name -- or where your family was. you mentioned you roved all over. i am sorry i am not more help." her countenance took on a measured look of private regret, and it was apparent she was sincere in her guilt over being of little use to the woman.

ah, well, at least she looks contrite. tashkent is appreciative of the show of support, even if it is not genuine (for what about tashkent is genuine, really?). oh, i am sorry, she croons, shaking her head. i usually am better with introductions. my name is tashkent-luk. i came here with my brothers, enx and kuyuk, my cousin isleña, and our servant, mengu.

finding any of them would be a blessing, although the latter trio are obviously preferred. mengu, bless him, is not a luk, and never will be, even after his loyal service. only when she finds her eyes in someone else's face will she be satisfied. this land already feels strange enough, after the fall; the lack of family makes it even worse.

i do not know where i am headed, truly, tashkent admits. only that i will continue to search for them. are you traveling, or do you live nearby? this woman could be a wonderful ally, and it was probably a thought like this that had brought tashkent to her in the first place. well, the gods gave boons when it suited them, and it seems that this chance encounter is one such bit of good fortune.

indra knew exactly none of the names provided, and it showed by the lack of recognition on her features as tashkent ticked off their names, one by one. she gave a defeated smile, having nothing to give the woman. "i have not met anyone by that name." she said succinctly, feeling she might be falling short and having no way in which to fix it. certainly, she had not met any wolves that looked like tashkent either -- not that she knew they all looked like her (until tashkent had expanded and said they had..), but indra had always possessed a keen eye for familial resemblance, and tashkent was not, to her, an ordinary looking wolf..

snapping back from her thoughts and realizing she had been asked a question, indra rushed to retrieve some sort of acceptable answer. "i, uh.. well, no, we don't live nearby." had she hands she would have put an arm awkwardly behind her head, as if ashamed to admit she and laurel were the effective equivalent of transients, homeless and without a pack. "well, we've been traveling, looking for lucas and wyatt. we're far away from our home, which would have been lost creek hollow..." thinking of 'home' made her think of merrick and nunataq, and a pained flash of guilt briefly stole across her features.

her face contorts in disappointed pain as indra gives her answer, and tashkent looks away, teeth sunk into her lip. shit, she whispers, with feeling. then she turns back to the woman as the conversation continues, and this time, she is the recipient of unknown names and places (or merely forgotten, if they'd been learned once before. that didn't help her now).

ah, tashkent says, her voice a little hollow. she presumes that indra is looking for her family as well. lucas and wyatt. do they look like you? she asks, seeking information she'd neglected to provide herself. young, old? i can keep my eyes and ears out for them, if you do the same for me. if you would be so kind, she adds, turning a dewy stare upon indra.

while indra was used to delivering disappointment, seeing it writ so clearly across tashkent's features stung her. she hid it well, but the flicker of her gaze, of her own self-derision, remained.

tashkent prompted indra to explain the features of those estranged. how many times had indra done this, face to face with a stranger, the hope in her heart slowly extinguishing like a strangled flame?

would it ever end?

"wyatt's a bit taller but not bigger than me. he's black with chestnut eyes. his brother lucas is probably bigger than me now. he always looked more like his father.." she realized she was trailing off and quickly corrected her errant course. "hard to explain... hmm.. white face, underside and feet with a tan saddle. he's very usual looking, i don't remember what the term is." she was looking for pied -- but it had been so long since she had heard it uttered, that the word had slipped out of her lexicon.

it is a lot of information, and she tries to remember it. not that she really needs to—she doubts that she will see them, and even if she does, will she recall the courtesy she has offered? tashkent's mind is selfish and single-tracked; promises made are often broken, save those given in the most serious of circumstances.

i will keep my eyes open. . .oh, it seems i have not gotten your name, she chuckles, smirking. i have neglected to ask that of you as well. my apologies.

she chalks her social deficiencies up to a healing brain. tasha hopes her former adeptness will return with the coming days.

indra hadn't had much hope that tashkent would have recognized any of the wolves she mentioned. how many strangers had she informed of her missing relatives? by now, she was used to disappointment.

and then she remembered the term -- "pied," she muttered to the side, glancing down at her feet with a growing sense of frustration that, truth be told, had always been there.. now it was just too festering to ignore.

her gaze lifted as tashkent mentioned she did not know the redleaf's name. "indra redleaf," she answered, wondering if the woman remembered her own name given her state.

they conversed a little longer, and for once when it was time to part indra felt a little forlorn to see the jagged she-wolf go. she had high hopes tashkent would be back on her feet and ruling the world in no time.