Wolf RPG

Would that Sobo knew the storied history of this bay.

Perhaps Rosalyn and Erzulie had spoken of Ironsea to him, now and again, but the boy had nothing to connect this place with the pack his mothers met and bonded in. He paused in the sand at midday to stare out at the calm sea and could not help but to wonder why they had settled the cliffs and not this beautiful stretch of beach. To the west were thick trees, some still charred from a fire long ago, others green and young. To the east, a vast huddle of sea lions ripe for hunting.

Sobo thought if he ever would settle a pack of his own making, this would be the perfect place for it. He had no such aspirations, but didn't all young wolves occasionally dream of such things? There was ample shelter in the forest encircling the bay. The sand was soft and light underfoot. What was not to like? He was bound to Sapphique, however, and as of yet had no desire to leave his home despite knowing it was not a place of men.

It would be @Chacal who inherited Sapphique, or Mireille. He thought it should be his littermate, mostly because he did not know Chacal very well. He hoped to remain there for his life, supporting Mireille in the role and serving as houngan and healer for the pack when his manman retired from her role. That was his dream.

This was a very nice spot, though. He would enjoy his time here for as long as he could before he had to return home. Sobo sank down in the sand next to the water, stretching his forepaws out so the foam could just barely kiss his toes.

Despite how easily pawprints left a mark on sand, the constant ebb and flow of the waves made it difficult to track anything that had wandered along the shoreline more than an hour ago. And higher along the edge of the beach, the sand was pock-marked anyway from wind, making it look as though thousands had already travelled through the sand. 

Chacal's instincts led her to roam and search, relying on her sense of smell to parse through the briney aroma of the seaweed and shells, to parse out any trace of canine scent. It took no small amount of meandering to and from the shoreline, moving almost like a wave herself, until she picked up a scent that made her giddy with relief. 

When she came through the forest, she looked out over the beautiful stretch of beach and clapped her eyes upon the solitary, still form of her brother. So close to the water's edge, and unmoving- but even from the distance she could see that his posture was not an unconscious slump, which would have made her panic. No, her brother was relaxed, poised. She heaved a sigh of relief, and began to trot toward him, her tail sweeping from side to side congenially.

To and fro the foam raced, up over sandy paws and down again, dragging lines in the sand where his toes sank in. Brine in his nose, sea wind in his fur, the sound of arguing gulls in his ears just above the distant din of sea lions. These were the things Sobo could live for. These were the things that soothed his hurt soul.

His dark ears twisted automatically when a new sound rose above the rest. Sand shifting underfoot. His heart rate picked up instantly, the way it always did when there was the possibility of meeting someone new, but when he shifted to his hip and elbow so he could look at them, it was sun-limned Chacal he saw.

She still made him nervous, but not so much as a stranger would. His smile was wan and shy, but he thwapped his tail against the wet sand twice in invitation, not once suspecting that she was out here looking for him because he had failed to let anyone know he was leaving.

Her heart still raced, even though she had found him safe and unharmed. He looked not at all alarmed to have been spotted, had he wanted space- nor did he look particularly guilty. Shy, of course, as they were still a generation removed, and she had been absent for the majority of his youth. Still, she cared for her younger siblings and saw this as a blessing. 

"So-bo! She chirped, breathing a sigh of relief. He looked so calm and comfortable, it made her giggle lightly at how foolish, perhaps, she had been to worry so much. She couldn't punish him- or hold a grudge for the worry he'd caused her. But, she would tease him, just a bit. "Chéri, you 'ad us worried! Not a trace or a clue left behind to help- an' here I am, to find you calm as kelp." Any idea of admonishment was smothered by relief. She flopped down onto the sand beside him, with a relieved laugh.

Sobo didn't think he would ever tire of the musical quality of his sister's voice. He didn't know her very well, but this was a cornerstone of her identity. He thought it was a quality she had developed for herself, like da Njord's funny words or the piercing silence Rosalyn employed to great effect when she was displeased. He knew nothing of the true reason her words often rhymed or came out in melodies, and he didn't ask.

Oh! he said, realizing for the first time his error. Well, I tol' Loko but I guess he dinna tell anyone else. His smile landed somewhere between sheepish and amused, and shy as always. Loko likely thought the whole thing was a grand joke. His brother meant well, but sometimes he could be a little too mischievous. I be sorry, Chacal.

It was also, he realized, the first time he had really spoken to his sister, but their game from before had gone a long way in warming him up to her. She flopped down beside him and Sobo hardly even flinched. He looked out to the sea again and asked, why do you t'ink Sapphique be at de cliffs and not somewhere like dis?

She was willing to forgive him, now he’d been found, and the truth was that he had told someone, but hadn’t intended to worry anyone anyway. ”Alright, you be forgiven. But do it again an’ I be tyin’ you to a hefty piece of driftwood to drag aroun’ behin’ you,” She threatened, with a wolffish grin. It nothing else, it’s slow him down and leave an obvious trail behind. 

His question puzzled her slightly, perhaps because she had such an affinity for the cliff side. The open beach was nice too, for sure, but it felt a bit open and insecure to her. ”De cliffs offer us some protection, an’ somet’ing of a visible boundary. Any wolf could wade t’rough de shallows an’ say dey be in de ocean, not trespassing on our lan, because we can claim de land, not de ocean. Wit’ de cliffs, we have an obvious border against de ocean….While still claiming the dry beaches below as ours too.” She explained. ”You like it here, huh?”

Pah! said Sobo with an easy grin. I be pullin' it around like it be not'ing! He took her words to heart, though. He hadn't meant to make his family worry and would take extra care to let Chacal know when and where he was going if he planned to be gone longer than a few hours. Loko clearly wasn't a trustworthy option!

Her insight into the cliffs was enlightening. He settled his elbows more firmly in the sand and let his body sink languorously down into it, but kept his head turned attentively to his gilded sibling. She had a point about the boundaries, but Sobo had a response for that as well. We be claimin' de eart'. Dere be ground under de water, too, yeah? So if dey say dey not trespassin', den dey better be swimmin'. An' if dey try to swim all de way past de borders, well, den maybe dey be drownin'!

Whether he would lift a paw to help a wolf drowning just off shore for trying to make such a stupid point remained to be seen. Probably not. He was compassionate enough, but they'd be asking for it then. Chacal posed a question and he shrugged. I like de cliffs but it be nice here too. Not so jagged an' dangerous.

”B’en ouais, sure sure,” she chirped, reaching over to nip playfully at the air between them. ”Den I sit on the driftwood an’ make you pull me aroun’ if you be so strong!” she laughed, picturing with amusement how silly it would be for Sobo to tug a hunk of driftwood along the beach while she sat on it like a queen on a throne. 

Her brother’s insight was wise, and she nodded. ”Dis be true. But do not forget dat not all wolves be raised an’ baptized in de brine. Some perhaps play in de surf an’ fin’ de fury of riptide. An’ when dey end up on our shore, dey be trespassin’, sure, but if de sea see fit for dem to survive, mebee we too see dey are forgiven for deir trespasses.” She said. 

He seemed to have a fondness for a land more even and soft underfoot. She flexed her paws in the sand. ”It is nice here. Soft, even.” She said. ”A good place to come an’ think, if dat is what you look to do.”

Sobo chuckled along with her, but had nothing more to add to her teasing. Perhaps it was the way the sun slanted down on the bay or maybe it was the gentle wash of the sea on the shore, so different from the way it beat against the cliffs, but he was starting to feel a little sleepy.

He blinked his eyes rapidly a couple times and forced down a yawn that threatened to break between his teeth. Chacal had a lot to say about wolves washing ashore, but he chose to think about that a little longer before commenting on it. A good place to nap, I t’ink, he opined.

If de wolves wash up on de shore an’ dey be half dead, an’ dey be trespassin’, why give dem anyt’ing? It seemed like an awfully big gamble. He wasn’t heartless, but what if they gave their resources to the half-drowned wolf only for them to give nothing in return? How do we know dey will do anyt’ing for Sapphique an’ not just slip off in de night first chance dey have?

It seemed Sobo had found a place that made him feel calm and safe. Maybe he preferred the dunes and sand to the tall, craggy cliffs of Dragoncrest. For Chacal, it felt a bit open and exposed for her liking- but it was difficult not to feel cozy as she noticed just how blithe her brother felt about the place.

His questions were thoughtful, though. The kind of questions and thoughts that expressed his temperament. He seemed more inclined to cast away those the ocean washed ashore, whereas she felt differently. It wasn’t a bad thing- and she knew that he had wisdom as well. The wrong wolf washed ashore and given rest and peace might very well turn around and bite once it recovered it’s strength.

”You are right to be wary, broder.” She said. ”We cannot trust all de wolves who come knockin’ upon our home. Sometimes, I t’ink, dat mercy be de right choice. De sea brings us many t’ings; some good, some bad. It is up to us to handle what is given to us in de best way.” She said. After all- not all things that washed up on the shore were edible or useful- some were poisonous or dangerous. 

”An’ is someone be ungrateful, I’m sure we can fin’ ways to make dem pay what dey owe to us, hmm?” She grinned.

He didn't share the grinning vehemence of his sister when it came to making other wolves pay, but he smirked back all the same. Sobo was more inclined to not allow a debt in the first place. If they were never owed, then they never had to use force to get back what they had given. Chacal was wise, though. Not everything the sea gave was good, but if they were resourceful, they could find a way to benefit from all situations.

He savoured the sea breeze with a long, slow breath in and a half-lidded stare across the rolling water, then gave a feline stretch and clapped his jaws together in a yawn. Well, he said, taking his time getting to his paws and casting a warm look down on his wise older sister, maybe we should be gettin' back, yeah? Dis place not be goin' anywhere.

In little moments like this, she saw and appreciated the subtle difference between her brothers. Loko seemed to thrive for comments of that sort, but Sobo seemed a more honest creature. One who was dedicated, observant, a dreamer and a thinker. 

And while she knew that even beaches could shift under the tide, she nodded. ”It will be here de next time you come back.” She said, and began to walk home with her brother, relieved still that he had been found safe and sound.