Wolf RPG

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OOC: Open to anyone, Yuelong or otherwise!

The storm had passed, finally. It should come as a relief to the residents of the Wilds. Life could continue on as usual. But for one dark, lonely soul, there would come no such peace. The storm had taken from her the only solid thing in her life. Sotiris was gone - swept away by the grip of that winter monster. She asked herself, how, how had it happened?! Had he simply lost his way? Or did it overwhelm him, claiming him as a victim? Perhaps he had chose to go of his own will. Tzila knew that he was a sensitive boy and that the noise of the coast was often too much for him. He shared her mixed feelings for the oceanfront. Maybe the pull to go live inland was too strong. But he was so, so young. Too much to be alone, yet.

Infuriated with herself, Tzila had paced the whole of Wheeling Gull Isle, leaving no stone unturned in her hopeless search for her son. She snapped at anyone who got in her way, driving them off in a blind fury of a mother in agony. Astaroth was fortunate not to be present. Not that it mattered. She had given up hopes on his return a while ago. But if he were to show his face, he would feel the brunt of her anger. Somehow, it was his fault that Sotiris was gone. She would find a way to blame him, the absentee father. Though she too, was also overcome with guilt. She had finally accomplished something in her life...had someone of worth and now they were gone! What had she done wrong? Or was it all beyond her control?

Away from her island home and alone on the empty peninsula, she glared bitterly out towards the cold blue waters. She curled her lip in a silent snarl. Fuck this. Fuck all of it. She needed something or someone to tear into, just as the darkness inside of her was clawing at her. There was nothing. She acted without thought, releasing a powerful, single cry of fury that shattered the renewed calm.
The call to adventure had snared him months ago, leaving his paws itching and eager to tread upon new and unfamiliar soil. His usual wanderings had become solitary, straying further away and for longer stretches of time until finally he saw it fit to depart from his birth pack for good. The goodbyes to his family had been a tearful affair—none shed by him—his youngest sister bawling her eyes out. Fortunately, he had been able to leave on good terms, and though he missed the banter of his siblings, their laughter or even just a simple conversation, he knew their destinies lay elsewhere. Perhaps one day their paths would cross. But for now he was on his own, free to do whatever he pleased.

Finnur strode through great forests covered in white, sprinted across plains reaching from horizon to horizon and crossed rivers that lay like fat snakes upon the land. He ate nowhere near as much as he used to with an entire pack backing him up, lending him their superior experience, but the meat was tender and tasted better than anything he had ever swallowed.

Then one day, the landscape shifted and fell away to a lake so massive he could not see the opposite shore, the winds leaping from wave to wave carrying an unfamiliar, and quite frankly disgusting, scent. It was amazing. He travelled along its coast, following the twists and curves, wondering just how large this strange lake could be, until he spotted a lonely figure sitting at the end of a long peninsula, a dark pillar against a vast expanse of blue.

The wind betrayed her to be a female wolf—the first member of his species he had seen in months. Finnur paused as a cry erupted from her throat, the fury in it plunging so deep it sounded more like the voice of a vicious monster, not an ordinary wolf. But another push of the wind carried the scent of something else. Pain.

He started forward, maintaining some distance from the dark female, unwilling to surprise her though a part of him was swift to point out he likely would considering the circumstances. "Who pissed on your meat?" he asked, trying for a humorous tone bordering on neutrality, an appeasing smile tugging on the corner of his mouth. The humour faded as he spoke once more. "What's wrong?" He seriously doubted she was merely angry over a failed hunt or pained from an empty stomach.
Her solitude did not last for long. Just as soon as the last of her voice left her throat, did a stranger come approaching. Possibly drawn by the sound of her anguish, of her fury. Whatever the reason was, she didn't care. The young man asked only an innocent question, albeit with an attempt at humor. Tzila however, found nothing about her circumstances amusing.

Turning to face him with a certain sense of purpose in her movements, she pinned her dark ears down. Leveling her head with her spine, she considered confronting him further. The glare in her eyes was cold as she stared him down in silence. What would he know? Why should he care? 

"That's an awfully bold question to ask a stranger." She drawled lowly. "None of it concerns you." She concluded firmly. Whirling away to move in the opposite direction in a sulking lope, her body language was clear. She didn't want to be bothered and she certainly wasn't in the mood to confide.
The female turned, her hard, icy stare screaming hostility, ears pinned back in displeasure. Finnur did not shy from her anger, meeting it with a relaxed posture of his own as he waited for her to speak, observing whatever course of action she would choose. Would she attack and vent the storm ranging within her on his flesh? Or tell him what bothered her so?

She did not attack but offered no answer either, her words dismissive, and moved away from him. He should take the hint and leave her to her thoughts, yet instead he trailed after her. "I've been told I'm nosey." And reckless perhaps. Following her might be the equivalent of poking a bear.

Still, he dropped the matter and did not push her to answer. As she had said, it wasn't his business and he wouldn't continue to pry when told not to. But what sort of gentlemen would leave a woman to deal with her troubles alone? The least he could do was offer her company—if she would have it. "Hey, do you know how big that lake is?"
Much to her displeasure, he followed her. Didn't anybody know how to take a hint? She lashed her tail in a sharp movement to show her irritation. A snort followed. "You don't say..." She muttered disinterestedly. Luckily he switched to a different topic, but one that was equally boring.

The lake? What lake? She turned to peer at him with narrowed eyes as if he didn't have all his marbles. "Do you not know what an ocean is?" Tzila let her eyes slip pointedly to the cerulean waters to their right. "It is vast. It goes on forever, as far as I know." She didn't know exactly how far this particular ocean stretched, but having been raised on a beach front home, that was what she had been told of them in general. With her disdain for the sea, she had never been curious enough to see if that was true or not.