Wolf RPG

Finley wasn't the only one having strange, symbolic dreams lately. Peregrine rarely dreamed (or at least he scarcely remembered them) and never in his life had he been known to sleepwalk. But he had been under a lot of stress lately, much of which he had to hide or otherwise suppress for the kids' sake. Unable to find an outlet during his waking hours, it manifested in dark, gnarly nightmares and, on this particularly still and quiet night, he stood and began to wander without ever waking.

His dreams were violent, bloody, wrought with grief and horror. They were at times very realistic, the imagery mimicking life. Mostly, they were abstract and beyond description. The entire time, Peregrine had no idea he was dreaming. As he shuffled through the quiet May night, he made strange noises. Sometimes they sounded like sharp intakes of breath, other times they were like the sobbing cry of a loon on a distant lake.

Speaking of lakes, the Kappa stopped suddenly when his toes touched something cold and wet. He didn't wake, though he froze there, jade eyes staring unseeingly over the glassy, breathless, black surface of Lake Rodney.

The great bear of a wolf was free, finally, from the chains of her injury. She had healed, fully, and had no hesitation in getting back to work. Wordlessly, she had gone back to the borders to patrol, taking up her vigilant mantle of duty. To further her knowledge of the lands so she could protect the pack in any situation that may arise, Kroc broke from the reach of the Spine and angled Southeast once the sun began to approach the horizon. With @Tonravik guarding the borders now, the Warden had no issue with leaving the area. 

Hours into the night, her pace had not ceased or slowed, passing unfamiliar, uninteresting terrain. The large lake was a land mark but she did not stray from her unmarked path. The pale female had no intention of pausing yet but something caught her eye; a dark creature lingering at the edge of another, different lake. Gold eyes narrowed, watching as he just stood there like a fucking zombie. Creepy.

Adjusting her direction, Kroc approached, making no effort to keep her footfalls silent. "Hey you. Weirdo fucker. The hell're you doing?" Make no mistake, she wasn't asking to make sure he was okay; she wanted to make sure there wasn't going to be a fuckin epidemic of nightwalking freaks. 

He stood there, motionless, for a long time. Only when someone approached him, spitting hostile words into the still night air, did Peregrine turn. He blinked slowly, yet did not rise to consciousness. He did not see the stocky white she-wolf with golden eyes and an aggressive leer. At the moment, he wasn't dreaming. He was just drifting in a black space in between nightmares and dreamscapes, oblivious to any- and everything. He was, more or less, a sitting duck.

Then the Kappa's lips moved. "Weirdo," he whispered, evidently parroting the female's epithet. He paused, then said another word: "Hell." His jade eyes flickered as he said it, though they were still dull and unfocused. "Hell." This time, it came out of him like a moan, which continued into an unbroken, wordless groan of despair.

He looked at her, no, stared at her as if he was seeing right through her. How fucking unnerving was that? And the feeling only got worse as he repeated her words, ears canting forward to catch his monotone voice. The word hell slipped from him again before turning into a moan. What the fuck? "Hey! Knock it the fuck off!" Her barking likely went unheard by the creature, her hackles slowly rising as she regarded him. This felt wrong. 

The area between her shoulder blades pinched, her voice dropping into a growl. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" He was a motherfucking zombie. The tank was convinced.

The intruder's shout caused Peregrine to lapse into sudden silence. For a split second, his jade eyes seemed to come to a focus and study her face. Then they became glassy and distant again. He lurched forward, both forepaws splashing into the lake, only to backpedal suddenly when reminded of the water's proximity. He swung around like some sort of robot and began skulking back in the direction he had come.

But he didn't get far before he stopped again, seemingly for no reason at all. He swayed slightly, then slowly sank to his haunches. He tipped his head back and, for a second, it seemed like he might bay at the moon. He did look in that general direction, though he remained absolutely silent as he gazed skyward, as if studying the stars.

Uncomfortable wasn't the half of it. If there were zombies zombies in these parts of the Wilds then she would be damned if she was gonna come back down this way. Her fur and hackles bristled, puffing the tank up to appear bigger than she already was, growling as he came to his feet in an ungainly movement. Muscles tense, Kroc was ready to fend off the undead wolf, ultimately confused when he turned away. There was a moment's hesitation before she moved as well, snapping at his tail (perhaps rather needlessly, but it made her feel better) before angling away and taking herself out of his general vicinity with the mumble curse "Fucking freak." Her departure was otherwise unimportant, letting her long strides make the most of things, carrying her away at a quick clip.

Kroc exits.

If anything could rouse him from his state, a bite to the ass might have done it. However, Peregrine's reaction to the sharp pinch to his tail produced a far more subdued reaction than it might have if he was awake. He turned so slowly that by the time he was facing his own rear end, the white she-wolf was already galloping away at a steady clip.

"Mo." The word tumbled quietly from his lips. Peregrine swayed slightly as he turned himself around fully. "Mo...!" he said a bit louder. "Mo! Come back!"

His voice made her stumble, gold eyes peering over her shoulder as she slowed, staring at him. Could zombies talk? Not to her knowledge. Her movement halted, Kroc debated on leaving anyway. Who the fuck was Mo? Did she know one? No.

The distance stretched between them but, against her better judgement, she turn and moved back towards him, though she did not get too close. What if whatever was wrong with him was contagious? "Ain't no Mo here. The fuck is goin' on with you?" If he was acting like a zombie, he better have a damn good reason for it.

When the she-wolf turned and began to lope back toward him, Peregrine's lips parted. It really was Mo. What was she doing here, so far from home? He felt confusion seeping into him like water flooding into a basement, slowly at first but then more and more rapidly until he was drowning in it. Aren't you dead...? he suddenly remembered, though even as that thought drifted through his mind, she came close enough that he could see: this wasn't his mother at all.

"You're not Mo," he mumbled. Peregrine stared at her for a long beat of silence, then turned away from her, murmuring under his breath as he began making his slow way back in the direction of the caldera.

"No shit, Sherlock." She was growling again. This bastard was out of his goddamn mind. There was no way in hell she was sticking around at this point and so, the Warden turned once more to head off to put as much space between them as possible. With him heading off as well, the distance between them stretched far. Not far enough, in her opinion. She would keep going.

Kroc actually exits.