Sea Lion Shores samsara - Printable Version

Now that her days had taken on a more routine approach, she had put herself to work trying to regain the strength that winter had stolen from her. She did less ranging lately, usually keeping to the coastal territories between the sea and the dense forests, with the small falcon mountain operating as her base of sorts. For now, it worked.

Amekaze kept to herself and consequentially, kept herself busy. She passed the hours working diligently to hunt, feed, and rebuild. It was a continual, repetitive cycle but necessary to rise over this. She paled in comparison to what she ought to be, or so she believed.

And today, the day was cloudy but relatively warmer and this lured her from the cover of the forests onto the sandy shorelines. With keen eyes she scanned the area, searching for anything of interest, be it for scavenging or hunting -- assuming either were a possibility. Already she had learned that the beach could be unpredictable in what it offered. She was alert as she picked up a slow, measured trot to carry her further and further from the treeline at her back.

The air grew briny with the breath of the sea as Lecter traveled to the outskirts of the land. Pausing but for a moment, the pale madman growled lowly in pleasure as the coastal winds dragged cool fingers through his bloodstained fur.

It was not Shearwater, nor would it ever be, but the sight of the frigid, lapping ocean against its cold beaches set his heart to dancing. The shaman slunk in the direction of the saltwater, icewater eyes casting about for beach bursage, or silverweed, or any such sand-rooted roughage that might be useful to himself and his rites.

And for motherhood; yes. He must keep that in mind. Though his throat still burned with the familiar sting of sickness when pondering who had sired children upon Clarice, their lives were no less precious to Lecter. Despite their dubious parentage, the cubs would be of his lineage, blood of his blood, impressionable young minds to rear in the ways of service to the Dark One.

Pawing idly at a shell wedged deep into the hardpacked sand, the weatherwitch did not notice the sleek black beast approaching the coast, for his cold gaze was turned almost lovingly upon the sea.

As was custom, the water's chorus as it crashed upon the rocks and shore consumed her attention first, and she greeted this with a furrowed brow, then more determinedly sought focus. Amekaze still could not venture to understand the sea or the life it harbored. She preferred distant observations, as they were the most she was willing to spare. Yet this was far from her desired focus for today. She needed a more tangible reward..

So on she ranged, huffing the cold saltiness from her nostrils already in a short chuff. Then, over the hillock of sands, she spotted the being dressed in pale shades, relatively stark against the cloudy grayed-out dreariness of the day. She could not yet discern what his business was or what it was he was doing exactly, so she figured it was hardly different than her own resource-seeking goals.

Her paws went closer, purposeful and fluid all at once. Ame lifted her nose, sniffing in her cool approach that brought her to him, save for a few meters. He smelled vile and obviously in dire need of a dunk in any water at least. Not that she needed more reasons to keep space between them for the moment while he was still just as unknown as could be. Nevertheless, she squinted at him, quiet but with language otherwise that posed the question what are you doing?

He had almost given in to the seductive call of the sea, succumbing to the kiss of its waves, a foamy licking that would wash the caked blood from his fur. His legs tensed to carry him forward, but an unfamiliar scent soon flashed into his nares, and Lecter turned to see a lithe black shadow watching him, feminine and with inquiry in her eyes.

Curling his lip at the distraction, the weatherwitch halted his clawing of the sand-covered shell and regarded her implacably, his eyes cold. Lecter felt no need to share with her what he was doing, and just before him the sea crashed most invitingly.

And so, with a last lingering glance at his unwanted company, the man ducked into the shallows, teeth bared at the cold. Wading slowly until the water lapped against his shoulders, Lecter ducked momentarily beneath the surf, allowing the brine to scour every inch of his body. Around him, the sea reddened, flakes of long-dried blood washing onto the sand.

"It is best to bathe at high tide," he called suddenly to the wolf who was presumably still upon shore and within earshot. "The waters are rougher and give more of a cleansing." Whether or not she would listen was her own affair; the shaman padded out onto the cold sand, dripping pink water; he set his stance and churned his body until the majority of the cold liquid had flung from his pelt, and set to grooming down the untidy spikes of fur that covered his body and stuck up in all directions.

She could not quite tell what she had intruded upon, and she took it in with a furrow forming in her expression. He disappeared beneath the roil of the surf after a look her way and that did nothing but inspire more questions, so she peered. Never did she see wolves bathe in the waters of the sea, like it was just some normal body of water -- not the most immense (and perhaps intimidating) thing she had ever seen.

Not that she could complain. His putrid stink had been evident from here.

Nevertheless, her own relationship with the sea felt horrifically incomplete still. It overwhelmed with its energies, utterly unlike any aspect she had encountered before. Amekaze had attempted to understand better, but her efforts to meditate in its company continued to leave her unfulfilled. She had yet to learn the way to.. grasp this in full, so revered from a reasonable distance.

She switched her ears forward, finding they had splayed sideways until he spoke. Ame drifted closer by a few lengthened steps, also aiming to shake the newly-coiling tension from her muscles as she moved.

Hm, good to know, she remarked, nonchalant but watchful. Does the salt not.. dry strangely? With fur as unruly as her own, she did not need to give it more volume in the form of sea-crust. Amekaze still suspected she would prefer her baths in the river. Freshwater was more to her liking, not that she felt comfortable enough with the sea to feel otherwise. You appeared to have been in need of a rinse, she gestured with a flick of her muzzle to the filthy waters slicking off his furs.

"A little," he muttered in answer, "but fresh blood will soften the brine soon enough." There were no words to convey to her what it meant to reek of salt and sea, the very scent driving the memory of Shearwater into his bones, until it was unforgettable and thrummed in his body to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

At her observation, Lecter gave a harsh laugh. "Indeed, but it will be for naught in the end." His life was one of blood; when he was not shedding it with wild abandon, the pale madman was wearing it, a glowing crimson that dulled and dried into dark brown, then black upon his withers, the stench driving all quick-witted beasts away.

Icewater gaze sliding toward her, the shaman wet his salted lips with a brisk lap of salmon tongue. "You do not smell of other wolves," he droned, moving past her, out of the puddles that had gathered at his paws. The sunlight was beginning to stiffen the fur along his shoulders; he shook again to loosen them, falling into a stretch with a cacophony of popping joints.

He confirmed, then prompted a deeper furrow of her expression. Fresh blood? She understood it happened, naturally, as was the course of the predatory existence but this did not seem like just neglecting to clean oneself up after a messy meal, or even not bothering to wash after a bloodied brutal fight. His further words only led to more of the same; she got the sense he liked it.

No wonder he had reeked like old rot. Is there a purpose in wearing blood? Besides negating the.. brine, she inquired, for truly she doubted that was his sole purpose in doing so -- crusted sea salt could not warrant it alone, right? The new curious concept had her wondering, and this lured out her more inquisitive side. He had entertained her with answers so far so she had little reason to rein back yet.

He pointed out her lack of pack scent and Ame nodded first. Because I do not run with a pack here, she chuffed simply in response. She lurked their outskirts, existed in the in-between spaces, and scavenged their leftovers when they abandoned their lands. Not a glorious existence, but one all the same.

The shaman eyed her warily, unsure of whether or not he should tell her of his practices, but the urge to teach others of his God thrummed within his blood, and he drew himself up. "The blood is a sweet scent in the nostrils of the Dark One, Sos, and it keeps his Loa close to me." Aside from Clarice, Lecter knew no one else who wore blood; it was deemed an unnatural practice.

Understanding what it meant to be independent, and feeling the sting of his present leader against his soul, Lecter merely nodded at his companion. She seemed hale and intelligent; likely she would not succumb to the invitations of pack-life unless it were a necessity for her survival.

"I am Lecter," the pale man grunted abruptly. "Shaman, witch, what have you." His recently cleansed muzzle fell to the sands; the briny fragrance did not hide the recent trail of a small mammal, and with a predator's single-minded intent, he followed.

A cold glance along his flank alighted on the woman; he was not adverse to her company, strangely enough, but would not beg her to hunt with him.

Her ears splayed, a little unsure of how to respond to such an unknown concept. Sos, his Loa, and wearing blood -- all firsts to her knowledge. She blinked, thinking deep then.

Shaman, which this, sparked a touch more familiarity. That was a title she had heard in use in the story and mythos, but never up close. Yuurei had spoken of them and this, the dark loner remembered suddenly. A shaman meaning... you have access to the realm of spirits? she supposed, and it fit, potentially tying in with what he said of the Loa (perhaps a spirit itself? or, kind of spirits..?). The mention of witch also led her to believe it was something similar, although she had heard few uses of witch back home. I have never heard of one outside of tales, until you.. she mentioned, hoping it may excuse her curiosity. What she knew was more akin to the mountain hermits, sages and even bodhisattva.. all those who were spiritually inclined in a different way.

I am Ame, she provided, her paws gliding to motion to follow at a few body lengths worth of distance.

"Ame. A simple title for one who intrigues." Lecter did not mean his words as a barb, nor did he intend them to be taken as a coy remark. The truth of the matter was that she, in her quietude, with her carefully chosen speech and gliding steps, stimulated his mind into contemplation of her mystery. Perhaps she had come from the sea, and was merely feigning her appearance until the pleasure of the game left her.

"The spirits have access to me. It is not the other way; I would not presume to approach them unless they invited me." To incite the Loa in such a way brought with it the threat of death; Lecter might send up a muttered prayer, but he would not invoke their presence without their specific desire.

"We are a dying breed," the pale man murmured, suddenly filled with a bitterness that pushed aside his brief want for the hunt. "Fewer and fewer wolves see the Gods as worthwhile. They would rather question and fill the universe with their skepticism than believe, than dig into themselves for faith."

She chuffed softly, inwardly pleased. It is, she replied quietly, unsure of how to remark on his mention of intrigue other than that she agreed. It was why she never gave anything more than that. Just Ame. Nothing else was necessary.

But he went on to correct her in that it was the other way around. The spirits came to him and her skin briefly prickled at the thought. Although not one to consider herself well-versed in the idea of "spirits", exactly, the notion sounded almost unnerving. She nodded and provided only a quiet I see... as this information settled. It was little surprise to hear they were rare, too.

So I had expected. Not many speak of any gods around me, she added with switching ears, keening in on his hunt as she trailed along. Although her own relationship with faith was complex and difficult to explain (not that she intended to ever try), she could find worth in it so long as the balance was struck properly. What are Loa, exactly? And was it.. Sos? These are not words I have ever heard, the loner inquired.

It was not often that he was asked such things, and he felt the delight he associated with teaching rise within him. Ame seemed a willing pupil, and so, though he continued the movement of his paws, Lecter lost interest in his hunt and settled into an educational role. "Sos is the Dark Bear, the Black God. His worshippers placate Him with sacrifices and blood, and He blesses them with strength and spiritual sight." Deliberating over whether or not to speak of Atka, Lecter pressed on.

"Of course, as with anything, a balance must be struck. Atka is the Mother of All Things, the White Bear. From Her springs fertility and love, the flowers that blossom after the snow, the brightness of summer. One may follow one or the other, or may honor both. I myself worship Sos, though I hold a sort of respect for Atka."

Lecter spoke honestly, and in a sort of monotone that peaked with his varied interest in that which he discussed with Ame. "The loa are the spirits of all living things, which move invisibly through the lives of the living at all times. They are all around us, they prey upon weakness and reward strength."

Presently he fell silent, inviting Ame to ask anything else with a sidelong glance.

She was eager to learn, and biting back the full measure of her curiosity, so not to seem too.. well, anything, and least of all obnoxiously nosy for a stranger of her caliber. Ame managed, although it was not easy at times when she filtered her expressions, watering them down so not to be too reactive or expressive. Still, her green eyes were awfully bright.

Although she was not in need of a new system of beliefs, she craved the knowledge all the same. He had given her a small sampling and already she was eagerly wishing to look deeper in this story, this myth, these beliefs and all else created from them. She was swiftly forgetting about the rotting stench he'd been wearing and the initial twist of unease at finding someone willingly dressed in blood. It was slowly being washed aside, knowing that he was the proper wolf for these questions as soon as his answers came to her ears.

Ame didn't stop the nod of her head. Balance, unsurprisingly, was brought into play and with this it only made more sense. The loner understood this, the concept driven deep into her being, albeit in a different presentation than this. Hm, she rumbled thoughtfully with contemplation so deep it slowed her paws briefly. Do their strengths rival one another truly? she quipped suddenly. He spoke like they did not; but in myth, there were times when dark triumphed light or vice-versa given certain circumstances. Nevertheless, they seemed to be equal opposites, the life where one is death, the light and its utter absence... Where do these beliefs originate? Are they.. local? Yours alone here, or.. ? Amekaze was not sure what else they could be and drawled off, leaving him a blank to be filled.

It had been some time since he had been gifted one who wished to learn so much, and the glow in her mint eyes was not lost upon the shaman. Ame was genuinely intrigued, and though Lecter did not often feel the need to proselytize, the dark woman had invited it. "Yes and no," he murmured softly. "Sos cannot stop life from occurring. He can interfere, but not even in His power can he stop life from being brought forth from their mothers, or prevent the changing of the seasons. Likewise, Atka cannot cease the passage of time, or death. She cannot stop the cold from sweeping the land, or famine from ravaging the earth. And so, it seems, that even Their greatest strengths must be balanced. One cannot overcome the other."

Lecter shook his head. "I do not know from where the beliefs come. There was a pack upon the coast to which I belonged, and we worshipped the Gods there for some time." The memory of Shearwater Bay burned, and the man fell silent on that front, not wishing to evoke more remembrances than necessary.

"And your worship, Ame? Do you fear the Gods?"

The loner had little else to say as his words were absorbed carefully. Again, balance was at play and this made this easy for her to grasp and understand to the best of her fledgling knowledge. "Their greatest strengths must be balanced. One cannot overcome the other," was a piece that resonated deeply with her.

She nodded once more and pried no further into the roots of these beliefs. His answer satisfied her well enough and did not lead her believe there was much more to say; they were not from here, but a coastal pack partook in worship as well. When it was he that turned a question onto her, she was silent for a beat. Hm my worship is.. hard to phrase, not that many are privy to it.. And "worship" may have been too intense a word for it, although it was the basis on which she had existed for quite a time. Ame did not remember a time without it.

She paused there, unsure of how to continue, but recalled all he had shared with her already; he was likely not going to cite her for thinking too oddly. It is my honored mother's beliefs, dashed with her heritage's mythology and based in nature itself, the energies of them, yourself, and the balance necessary in all things.. she replied quietly. I fear when necessary, appease and revere.

She was a quiet worshipper; he understood the virtue of such things. Rites and rituals were often seen with dismay by those who did not understand them. The faces of Fox and Bazi, the former creased with disgust, the latter with confusion, crossed his vision — while he liked them well enough, there were enough doubts in his mind at performing such things before them.

The answer she gave was vague, but not so that Lecter could not decipher. In his wanderings, in his time of learning, he had learned many things, and one of them was the belief in the energies given off by living things and the world around them. It was a belief he incorporated into his own worship, though he doubted that they mirrored Ame's own.

"I fear always, but I do not live in fear. Few know the difference. I believe that you do, however."

Amekaze considered this quietly. Maybe she did know, for phrased as he said it, she could see the sense of it. She did not live in fear and let it rule her life yet understood it as well as she could. Perhaps, although I know I still have much to learn, she replied. Beneath her honored mother's tutelage, she had learned a great deal but even it was far from complete. With years still left to span, Amekaze knew growth would take time.

I have enjoyed your words, she then said, for they were just a taste of something new and fascinating. Although it remained to be seen if she would ever encounter him again to learn more, she would not be against the possibility..assuming she could catch him just after a bath like she had today. I will take no more of your time, the loner said in means of farewell then took a path away from the one tracking after his.