Wolf RPG

the plant lay in dried white leaves inside the darkest part of kukutux' ulaq.

harvested at the beginning of summer, it was greatly potent. now she unwrapped the piece of soft hide and showed the spirit-petals to her daughter. "malitjuagak," she said aloud. close at hand was a small hollowed piece of bark.

"chew. do not swallow. spit." the makeshift bowl would thereafter be filled with a milky liquid. she left its full preparation to callyope, while she herself said the old, old prayers to sedna and tooteega and the listening spirits.

the night had fallen. stars shone fiercely above. the moon rose.

ingesting some measure of the spirit-drink was ineveitable. her daughter would discover this for herself. kukutux kept up the drumbeat of her words, saying the prayers three times for the ears of callyope. spirit-talker. spirit-walker.

we call to those who listen,
we ask for your strength
our mother is angry
we must stop the retribution
we ask you to come and to help us.

mother. grandmother. hear us.

they carried it between them to the place of the three sisters, and there kukutux killed a rabbit. its blood ran fresh against the ground. she anointed herself between the muzzle and then daubed the crimson to the muzzle and cheeks and brow of callyope.

moonwoman; her voice took up the chanting again, for a moment, assembling all before she called the women of moonglow.

She had never seen such a plant before.

For good reason, she assumed. There could be no hesitancy now though. She would take what was offered, do as her mother commanded. Chewing, chewing. Saliva down her throat from it all, even if she did not directly swallow the plant.

She deposited it into the bowl.

A bitter taste left upon her tongue and spilled down her throat.

we call to those who listen,
we ask for your strength
our mother is angry
we must stop the retribution
we ask you to come and to help us.

mother. grandmother. hear us.

Her mother's voice a trumpet in her ears. Elevated her heart. All of it felt as beyond her as it did a part of her. Each time she walked a new path, she found it was not as fearful as she had thought it may be. This stood true even now.

Blood upon her brow. Her cheeks. Her muzzle.

The trumpet of Moonwoman was louder, a sound of women. Callyope simmered, the pale plant had left its mark upon her tongue. She remained wordless for some time but her spirit sung loud and low.

the stars wove overhead.

the great trees were silent.

kukutux asked for the woman of moonglow to join she and callyope, and gather in a seated circle around the girl herself and the spirit-plant which glinted in the light.

as they came, moonwoman smeared rabbit's-blood to each of their faces.

"moonglow cannot exist with pain between us." she looked to tulukiri, then to amalia. "come here, both of you."

at opposite sides they would stand, with kukutux and callyope forming the third and fourth points around the bowl.

"amalia. you have been loyal to natigvik. but your heart is filled with things that are not peace. you will ask the spirits to settle you. you will tell them your desires."

"tulukiri. you are woman of tartok. but you are here in this village now. call upon your spirits. ask them to speak to you, to tell you what you do not know."

her face was somber beneath the dripping red.

"drink. each of you, one at one time, until it is empty. callyope walks with you upon this journey, to guide."

she would wait for words, and if they did not come, she would chant while the three of them consumed the sacred plant.

They gathered.

Blood shared, but not that of each other. Her mother marked them each from the rabbit. The remnants of the ceremonial plant in her teeth, along her throat. It did not matter if she would wash it away with sips between them anyway.

Her mother spoke, Callyope remained a silent thing. Perhaps her mind had accepted what was to come. The unknown. That it would be best to give up control now in favor of reaching the spirits. She hoped Amalia and Tulukiri would do the same.

Their paths may have been different, but they all stood and started here.

She would hold no fear now.

If there would be no words from the golden girl and leaf-eyes, she would begin their journey.

If they spoke, she would wait with heavy amber eyes.

Tulukiri had been watching the stars from her scraped bed, constructed that day within the repose, when she heard her name called.

She would arrive late to the three sisters. Disheveled, with her ear still covered in webs, her belly and legs lined with dirt or tangled with leaf-litter. Her eyes lingered on the two wolves already present; then the rabbit, then the trees themselves.

What was going on?

Callyope had blood on her face. Moonwoman also. Her warrior's instinct made her wary of all that she saw. When she passed them Callyope stopped her to anoint her own face with blood.

Tulukiri did not understand any of what she witnessed. Neither did she feel confident to speak, and settled where she thought they wanted her to, observing and judging and being resistant to the spectacle of it.

Kukutux spoke and when her words mentioned Tartok, Tulukiri's head lifted with some pride, and yet she frowned; finding the mixture of her culture with this ritual to be very unsettling. She did not drink when it was her chance, and only moved to sniff the water, and to fake a taste.

Better to wait and see what this was, first.

Amalia was confused and her heart hurt at the sight of all gathered. At the mere lonliness of TUlukiri as she refused to do what was needed. But this was her way she supposed. And she did not have peace in her heart, amalia didn't. She would, need, must change this.

So with a soft sigh after the blood was dabbed, she bent her head and drank. She couldn't drink it all, and it made her head feel strange, and her heart thrum.

She didn't know the words she would need to say, but she begged in her heart of hearts for the peace that she needed. She desired, the end the aminosity, and with that she let it go. She could not make tulukiri like her, she couldn't make her tolerate her, but what she could do was continue to be the wolf that she had always been. Nice. Cheerful. Friendly. Fun-loving.

However, she had yet to be determined if that would continue to be here or not.

she had come when called and stated quietly when asked. she knew that this process was not for her to understand but instead to be a part of on the sidelines. her eyes would glaze over the faces of tulukiri and Amalia, wondering if such a patch can be made. after her conversation with her raven-haired friend, shikoba curiously thinks about the events that led up to this. even more so, she wonders about the tricks moon woman has up her sleeves to fix this mess.

samani and ariadne stood quietly.

kukutux saw that tulukiri did not drink deeply as the others.

she stepped forward and regarded the girl with a motherly firmness. "imik."

her eyes shone. "it is time for you to know the spirits, uyuguga."

until the young woman drank, she would not look away.

Amalia said nothing, simply watched the going on's. Her heart heavy in her chest. Strange feelings in her head and body.

She was surprised as Kukutux stood in front of the girl Tulukiri and bade her drink. She frowned hoping she would simply do it and not cause any issue, because Kukutux didn't deserve that.

While she thought herself stealthy, the moonwoman was alert. She stood before Tulukiri and ordered for her to drink. The girl had never been intimidated by a woman before and did not like the seething feeling that resulted, or the way she knew she had to obey.

She slunk closer to the receptacle and lapped hastily at it, tasting the strange water there, finding it bitter. Maybe it was Tulukiri that was bitter? She kept her eyes averted to the dirt after that, fuming to herself. Who was this woman? How dare she force this upon her.

the spirits called.

she saw how the girl at last drank.

now they would be bonded as one.

"spirit-talker. walk with these women."

and kukutux touched each of their shoulders, pushing them down to sit or to lie.

her voice began a long chant. ariadne and samani took it up.

Amalia was pressed to her knees then her belly and she curled her head around her paws.

There was a lethargy to her movements and her head fwlt swimming. Had she not been so relaxed worry would have beat upon her breast.

She saw faces, friends, family. Lestan. Reno. Kukutux herself. Everyone she held dear. World was spinning. Then she loat track. Though tears slid along her face.

Down they went.

Bodies upon the earth so that spirits may rise.

"spirit-talker. walk with these women."

Her last grip upon this world as she closed her eyes. For long moments it felt as though the earth welcomed her with a hug. Wrapping around her in warm ways.

It was an abyss.

Dark, but warm, for now.

Soon this would be broken with grand visions of colorful things and the movement of emotions. All safely tucked behind her eyelids as she let the earth swallow her.

She waited for Tulukiri and Amalia on the other side.

Tulukiri did not know what was about to happen. She only knew she felt forced in to it, which she did not like. Her focus had been on the moonwoman until she had consumed the water, and then when no eyes were upon her, she shrank in to herself. Her eyes wandered to the others gathered: there were girls singing, their voices a chant and then a thrum of nonsense; Amalia had dropped to the earth as if to hide her face; Tulukiri felt thirsty, parched, and too hot, as the flower-water began to take effect.

Her thoughts started with frustration towards the situation. Seeing Amalia struggling and then crying, which became melting like a little block of black ice in to the grass, was at first a rewarding experience and then became frightening - but through the effects of the datura Tulukiri lost herself. She could not express how she felt, and seemed to crumble away from the women's circle.

She wandered; she thought she walked so far, or ran, and felt the wind upon her face, and the rain; in reality she had not gone anywhere and was locked within her own body. She could not concentrate on a single aspect of what happened around her any longer. The voices became the rumble of a storm that only she could hear. The rain spitting at her from overhead was actually the grass at her back, as she lay sprawled there, exposed with her belly up, where she had fallen. Her legs kicked involuntarily. She saw stars, which were also smoke, and the people of the circle became the same thin mist.

An hour after having ingested the water, Tulukiri's dysphoria forgotten, she stared at the sky, the gold line of her iris too small to see for all the blackness of her pupils; and when her eyes finally shut and she seemed to sleep the effects away, the rest of her began to tremble as a seizure overwhelmed her.

@Amalia wept.

@Callyope walked the long world her anaa could not see.

@Tulukiri; she quaked in her dream-slumber. she had walked from them.

kukutux crouched beside the girl; she reached to take the young one's breath and listen to her heart.

"tulukiri," she said softly, motioning to @Shikoba to come near. "let us sing to her." she put her forepaw upon the trembling body and resumed her chant, watching.

Upon a field of wildflowers, black paws stepped amongst them. The barest of petals brushing along the tips of her ankles and against her toes. Brown tipped tail swayed in the breeze. Green eyed gaze swept from one end of the meadow to the other, but all was silent.

It was clearly spring, by the sight of the colors and the scents upon the air, but where was everyone. She chased a butterfly for a time, found a river to soothe her throat. And then she just continued walking. But there was a contentment to her walking, movement.

It was dear faces at the end of her journey. She could see them there. She just simply needed to get to them. That was all. But what awaited her before them, she wasn't sure.

She dreamt of the village.

The hunters leaving in the early morning, the sun barely a glimmer on the horizon. She knows what is about to happen and Tulukiri wants them to stop - she wants to warn them of their future, but her voice isn't coming; even if it did, they wouldn't listen. She's so small, here.

Her legs churn and in the real world, they kick and they spasm. Kukutux lays a touch upon her but she does not change. Tulukiri is hot to the touch. Her teeth begin to chatter.

she would draw closer when instructed, following the chanting words that would leave kukutux and soon flow from her own lips. 

shikoba could see the spirit walking journey was one that would be forever remembered, the expressions and reactions of the others almost scared her. but with the calming presence of the moon woman, she would not speak out against this tradition. if it was felt to be necessary, she would not question it. instead, her focus goes to the young tulukiri, and shikoba offers her own comforting touch with her paw.

Her paws flexed in the world between them all. Limbs twitched here and there. A brain trying to make sense of this in-between, of the flower ingested.

---

The world she walked in her dreams was wide and wild.

Hunters rushed beyond her in the sun, mothers sung with their children. She watched it from some place she could not fathom. A high point. Looking down upon the village.

Cold, she was freezing cold.

Snow and winter whipped around her, beyond her. Twisted her over and over. Then! Bright and bursting came spring! The village stood at one in the fresh blooms of the warm months. She still was somewhere removed, watching and guarding. Waiting.

But there was peace.

---

Her face contorted in her delirium, wrinkling and smoothing over and over. Legs had stilled.

Time passed.

To Tulukiri it felt like a few seconds, but in the world outside of the spirit dream, it was longer - an hour, maybe two or three, and her body did struggle but the strength in which it kicked or spasmed did die away.

She slept. The women crowded around and urged her to wake.

---

The poison of the flower left her delirious upon waking.

I didn't mean to, she was pleading groggily, reaching out, her eyes glazed.
—don't send me away. Tulukiri spoke to a mother that wasn't there, and instead standing over her was the women's circle; or maybe some had slept, and some had gone - much time had passed by the time she came-to.

So many faces of those she loved. Amalia woke with a gentle grogginess that kept her from moving too fully. Her head hurt, and her body felt too large for it's limbs.
She lay unmoving staring up at the sky.

She didn't know what these dreams had meant, but she did know. She really just wanted to sleep and eat for now. But she was also too relaxed to move. Her body filling as if in a tail spin, and there was nothing she could do.

So she would wait for her body to adjust, and lessen it's general ungainliness.

eventually they unraveled. kukutux sent them to sleep.

she would keep tulukiri close tonight, watch over her.

long until the sun rose, moonwoman sang her spirit-songs of protection.

She twitched. Occasionally kicked or cried, in bouts unknown to her.

But she was lost for hours and hours. Maybe days? Time was not a factor to the spirit talker.

Even true sleep seemed much like spirit sleep when it found her.

the spirit path was something that shikoba knew of but had little influence over. shikoba was a believer, certainly, but was not one to overly indulge in the things she didn't know. she'd offer help where needed for those who ingested the plant, and when all was said and done, the woman would return to her borders.