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Gilded Bay your bones are the spires of Stockholm - Printable Version

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your bones are the spires of Stockholm - Wynonna - April 23, 2016

Paws heavy, quiet, as she moves. The sound of the ocean roars to her left, a constant since the beginning of her departure. She is loathe to leave her side now, where she knows she can count on each crashing wave to come after the previous. The few times she's had to move further inland, when something obscures her travel or for food she can't catch in pools left from the tide. Wynonna often enough tries not to go so far she can't hear the call of high side, and if at all, she refuses to leave the salty scent that has become apart of her own.

Moving along the bay, she discovers the pools low tide leaves behind, surrounded by rocky terrain, and she steps into the cold ocean water forsaken by the sea. Her toes squish in the sand but soon she's a me to pick through and eat a few small things left behind. Mostly things she's eaten before, picking through what she knows she can, before smacking her lips a few times and feeling her stomach rumble at the sudden onset of seawater. Perhaps used to it by now, she holds it down and searches, knowing she'll need to move inland sooner or later to quench her dry, salty thirst.


RE: your bones are the spires of Stockholm - Rexxar - April 23, 2016

He had holed up by his creek long enough. Spring is in full affect, and the warm weather and easy travel through snow-free lands spurs the smokey wolf to expand his range and see what lies further to the north. He is not disappointed to spot another wolf so soon in his travels; a season spent alone had been plenty respite for him, and he is eager to reconnect with others.

His smooth gait brings him nearer, and he watches curiously as the female plys sustenance from beneath the trapped seawater. "Finding anything good?" he calls as he approaches, holding his position some respectable distance away with a gently swaying and tail and perked, interested ears.


RE: your bones are the spires of Stockholm - Wynonna - April 23, 2016

The front half of her soaked in seawater, something Wynonna did not mind—if she had fins and gills, she'd never leave the water—but the voice is enough to make her aware of how she looks. Half rat, half wolf, maybe, the pools at her feet do not offer much in the way of reflection. She smiles anyway and offers a few shakes of her own, green eyes focusing on her newest companion. Friendly enough to not warrant immediate defenses, but her guard doesn't wane even with the gentlest of gestures.

Slim and travel-weary, she takes a few steps to firmer ground. Pebble and sand beneath her feet doesn't quite offer it, but her toes don't splay in the wet sand. "A bit, but I've cleared this area," she offers, in case he came for a bite. A pool somewhere along the land might offer more, she might eat more, but her concern was her gritty and ill-quenched rogue. "Do you know where fresh water is nearby?"


RE: your bones are the spires of Stockholm - Dark - April 23, 2016

Dark hears wolfs at the bottom of the river and slowly walks down towards them sniffing the air for scenes that he might pick up on along the way down. As he is walking down he feels a cold breeze coming from the south and shivers. Yesterday was a very warm day but its now getting a little bit more chilly again. When he gets down to the river he sees to wolfs talking to each other and one of them is swimming. Dark stands on a large rock right by the stream and watches them silently. Some leaves fall against his fluffy grey fur. For a second he thought it was fall already but then he realized that winter just ended. 

Dark mumbles to himself "man am I ever dense" As he mumbles this the other wolfs hear him mumbling. And Dark soon releases this as well. he leaps behind a rock listening carefully. And sniffing the air to see if they are coming or if they didn't hear him at all. Darks muzzle feels a bit chilly so its hard for him to smell even a wolfs scent. Dark's muzzle is extremely sensitive and reacts bad to cold weather or chilly winds in this case.


RE: your bones are the spires of Stockholm - Rexxar - April 24, 2016

Dark, please read posts more closely and pay attention to the setting. These two characters are beside the ocean and one is standing in a tidepool; not a stream, not swimming, and there are generally no falling leaves during spring. You also cannot choose if our characters hear your character mumbling or not, as that constitutes powerplaying.

She has cleared the tidepool of what it offered, and disappointment is brief in the splay of ears to the sides. "Aw, drat," he murmurs, his blue gaze dropping from her face to peer at the seawater around her feet. He had fed not long ago, but small game did not go far, and he feels the renewed burn of hunger deep within his gut. Like cattle out to pasture, the lone wolf was to be forever grazing to keep their strength up, unless one was so blessed as to take a young mammal or happen upon a sizeable carcass with flesh left to spare.

She asks if he knows of fresh water nearby, and he shakes his head. His paws had covered much ground between here and the last place he paused for a drink. "'Fraid not," he answers with an apologetic shrug of his broad shoulders. "The last bit I found was a ways back south, before I took to the coast." His train of thought is interrupted as another approaches... and leaps behind a rock. The behavior is odd, and Rexxar's brows drop over his eyes as the corner of his mouth tugs sideways with question.

"Sorry for the brief chat, but I am going to head down the coast to see if any goodies have washed up on the beach. Take care!" Rexxar dips his head to the female and moves along at a brisk trot.

Rexxar exits.



RE: your bones are the spires of Stockholm - Wynonna - April 24, 2016

The male offers her little when it comes to finding fresh water and she frowns, glancing back down to the tide pools by her feet. She could go the way he’d come, but she remains still, wondering if she’d have better look if she continues to move north and find a veering off the main land. She would find it, she always does.

Something seems to spoke the male and she glances up quickly, just as he’s speaking and another jumps from a stone up ahead. Her ears splay back against her head and she stiffens, watching carefully of the other until he disappears from view. Her companion decides to bolt and a shiver runs up her spine, unsettling her to the point that she moves too, the way she’d been headed from the beginning. 

Wynonna looks back, only once, to make sure the stranger that hid does not follow, and she equally disappears further down the coast.

Wynonna exits.



RE: your bones are the spires of Stockholm - Dark - April 24, 2016

Dark pears around the corner of the rock sneezing for it is still chilly outside he does not see the wolves any were and starts walking down the cost were the scent leads. As he is walking his stomach rumbles and a breeze blows past him making him shiver and sneeze once again. "Crap what have I got my self into this time, alone once again like always" he says sadly he keeps following the tracks in hope to find the other wolves so he could hunt with them.