Wolf RPG

The waning light from the setting sun washed the terrain with a warm glow. Stagnant pools of the marsh set ablaze as soft oranges painted the horizon. The late autumn evening, absent of birdsong, was scarcely disrupted. The shorter days and return of frost putting many a creature to early sleep or on the wing to travel elsewhere.


Kyrell, of course, was not one of those creatures.


Mud clad and waterlogged, he slogged through the wetland. The broken lattice of felled logs and gnarled branches offering the only escape from the grasping mud and frigid water. Heaving himself onto one such log, Kyrell teetered his way along the trunk. Climbing as it leaned against other displaced trees. Daring to charge across the damp bark as the pile creaked under the additional weight.

Reaching the end of the log, Kyrell paused to shake out his pelt. Mud spattering from his coat, he gave each leg a firm shake before firmly placing it back down upon his perch. Emerald eyes surveying a wide view of the marsh. His goal of dryer land in sight.

Reverie didn't often part from the willows, not since she'd been so terribly hurt. But her thoughts had drifted back to the eagle she'd found, the one she'd meant to bring to her husband. She hadn't seen it since that night. Thinking that perhaps the bird might be found back in the place where she'd first seen it, she told @Boone of her plans to check and parted from the place where they were creating a home.

But as she came within sight of the wetland, the first thing she spotted was not a bird but a wolf! A dark-furred figure balancing on a log; unfamiliar to her, but far enough from her home that Reverie did not feel threatened. Hello, She called out, glancing briefly to where the log was spattered with mud. Her tail swayed gently behind her. It's a mess here, isn't it? The birds are pretty, though.

Kyrell's ears swiveled towards the voice before his head followed. Scouring the environment before catching sight its owner. A golden furred woman hidden by the sun's glow. A humored exhale escaped his nose. You're quite right on that account, he called out in return, haven't seen much of the birds myself, though.

His posture remained loose. Leaning over the end of the log to better account for the space beneath, gaze breaking away from the stranger. Ground seems a touch drier over there, if that's not a problem with you.

He didn't wait for an answer before pushing against the wood, descending from the woodpile. His feet sank into the muck before he pulled out his paws with a squelch. Having freshly painted himself again, Kyrell approached with a polite nod of his head. Gentlemanly, were he not absolutely filthy.

I know I'm not feathered, but it is nice to meet a friendly face.

There were more around just a few weeks ago... Reverie sighed, casting a slightly forlorn glance around the place. The particular bird she was looking for was nowhere to be found. Her eyes drifted back to the stranger when he spoke of dry ground, just in time to witness his hop right back into the mud. She suppressed a giggle.

I'm sure we could stick some feathers to your legs. You could be a... a reverse chicken, Reverie did so love chickens. But she knew she was being childish, foolish even! So she quickly stammered into a new subject: Are - um, are you a traveler? If the marsh hasn't put you off, there's plenty to see around here. The mountains were beautiful, as much as she hated to admit it. If not for Boone she would never have agreed to live here, but it wasn't a terrible existence. It was a happy one, even, if only for the fact that he was by her side.

I know they're long, but I wouldn't say I've got chicken legs! Kyrell barked incredulously. His eyes narrowed, but crinkled at the corners as a well-humored smile took to his lips. Emerald eyes polished with mischief.

The subject of feathered wolves and their likeness to chickens was quickly swept aside. He felt it a shame not to play with the ridiculous notion further, but it was replaced by an important question. You are correct. I'm just a simple traveler. He lifted his head, eyes setting upon the looming mountain range. Faint traces of brine intermingling with the decay of the marsh. I might have enjoyed the mud run more on a warmer day, but I've no intentions to leave the Teekons, yet. He had just gotten here, after all.

Looking back to her, he raised a brow. Was there someplace you had in mind?

Oh, she liked him. A familiar heat tinged her cheeks as the stranger went on, a flushed sort of pleasure at making a new friend so easily. She didn't think she had a crush on him, not really; she was married, after all, and happily this time! But he was cute, and easy to talk to, and Reverie found herself hoping that he might stick around for a time.

Well, the mountains here are beautiful, She said softly, following his gaze briefly toward the willows and then beyond. Reverie gestured to the Sunspire in the distance. See that peak? It's the tallest, I think, and you can see everything from there. And - just over there, the willows, that's where I live. It's - the kind of forest I'd imagine fairies live in. We're going to make a pack there, my husband and I.

Her eyes found him again. I could show you, if you'd like! It occurred to her, belatedly, that she had not introduced herself yet! Oh, um, I'm Reverie, by the way.

He followed her gaze as she pointed out the smaller features in the distance. His perception of the horizon changed with her information. Named peaks and new terrain he had yet to explore. One day he would climb that mountain peak and see further than he did now. And when that day came, maybe he'd be able to point out all the places he knew from high above.

An aspiration for another time, of course. Kyrell turned back to Reverie. If you're husband wouldn't mind a vagabond like myself stopping by, I'd be much obliged. How long had it been since his intrusions had been welcomed? In his experience, not everyone appreciated his casual demeanor. He knew better than to squander an invitation. And if he'd behaved, perhaps he wouldn't have it revoked.

It's nice to meet you Reverie, my name's Kyrell. Or Keith, if you already know a 'Kyrell.' I'm lucky enough to have been given two names for that kind of thing.

It's nice to meet you too, Kyrell. And I'm sure my husband wouldn't mind at all! But - what's a vagabond? Reverie had never heard this word before! Her thoughts drifted briefly to Boone, who she was certain would be pleased to meet Kyrell, assuming vagabond wasn't a synonym for murderer or something. She found herself a little starry-eyed, remembering past encounters with strangers and family alike; it took a moment for her to bring herself back to reality.

It's just this way, She beckoned softly, turning to lead him away from the mud and silence of the marsh. The willows were a little busier with each day, a little more lively, a little more like a home. Reverie was surprised to realize that she was eager to return. She shot a warm glance over her shoulder at Kyrell as she took the lead, tracing a now-familiar path back to her home.

Kyrell couldn't restrain himself from barking out a light hearted laugh. Emerald gaze falling upon Reverie. He thought the term was an apt descriptor for himself. Just one of the many, many words to call a wanderer. Usually a vagabond is also without a home if you ever get quizzed on your vocabulary.

Reverie moved to leave and he followed after a brisk shake. Some drier patches flaked off as the rest clung stubbornly to his limbs. Perhaps the walk would be enough to loosen up the rest. Make him look a touch less like a wild pig—or chicken—when entering his new friend's home. He moved to follow at her side, nodding to her as she led the way. A smile on his face as he looked to the distant willows. He was looking forward to seeing them.

The sun was beginning to fall from its place in the sky as they disappeared among the willows and left the marsh behind. There they found @Boone, and Reverie eagerly introduced him to the new friend she'd brought to their home. She could hardly contain her excitement, especially as it became apparent that Kyrell would stay.

Slowly their vision for a home was becoming a reality, and it was a beautiful life they were creating here among the draping trees. A peaceful life, a life filled with friends and laughter. A perfect place to bring children into the world some day. Perhaps soon.