Blackfeather Woods Wyrd - Printable Version

A flash of light woke him up, a bright, blinding, deafening flash of light and a screech. He jolted up to his feet, now steady enough for him to run, and run he did, fast towards the outside. Something was calling him out there, that screech, that light, and he needed to find out why.

But he didn't. It fell silent and Keelut found himself stranded in a strange place. This was not the clearing he'd grown used to wander around anymore, his family had moved him, probably in his sleep, and he no more knew how to go back. He looked up, and saw the fluttering of black demons above him. They growled and fought each other to get a closer look at him, and Keelut stood there, fixated on their blue iridescence, lost in their beauty.

Walking through the woods felt strange now, his eldest son having gone off to live his life elsewhere. The exact reasoning for his decision was a mystery to everyone, even the boy’s father. He’d not pressed for an answer at the time, having not seen a reason to do so. As he trailed through the woods presently, however, he wondered. Something had happened, he was sure, but the what wasn’t something so easily discovered. It bothered the man and made him feel concerned, both for Xan and the rest of his children. He could think of no one that he might have angered, no one that would harm a child, but there grew within the back of his mind paranoia, anyways.

It was towards his family’s den that he’d headed in, leaving his previous thoughts behind for another time. Surely he would speak with Nemesis about it later, maybe see if she might know more than he did. As he’d neared the densite, his attention was pulled towards the movement of a pale form, which he’d recognized immediately as being his son. Copper eyes trailed up towards the canopy, eyeing the birds just as his son seemed to be doing, then looked back towards the boy and continued his approach.

“Innik,” Kove voiced, leaning towards the boy and nudging him gently once he’d crept close enough. “Suvet?” The birds didn’t seem to be causing any trouble, but perhaps they’d done something to the child. He wondered, too, if Keelut might have seen something unusual, and maybe that was why he was staring at the birds.

Loud were the black creatures above him but Keelut kept silent as he watched them flutter creating surreal blue lights. Things like these often caught the pale boy's curious eyes, light shows, bright colors and fluid movements. That's why he found his father so attractive, for the brightness of his fur, standing out in the dull tones of Blackfeather Woods, and the red mark on his shoulder.

Father nudged him gently, breaking Keelut's focus on the birds above. They alone were unusual enough for Keelut to find them strange and interesting, but Kove's presence out-matched the birds' magic. Atâ, whispered the child, who was usually a fair match to Abraxas' silent game, and then pointed skywards with his white muzzle to show father the cool creatures. Keelut hadn't felt lost despite his situation, but seeing father was always a good thing. There was just something about his voice that made Keelut feel strange things, and strange things were Keelut's favorite kind of things.

The boy’s attention was an easy thing to acquire, though his question went unanswered. It was assumed that nothing was wrong, then, especially after he’d looked back towards the birds overhead. Kove followed his gaze and stared up at them, watching as they moved for a moment before looking back towards his child. “Tulugak,” the father noted. One of the two types of birds that inhabited the woods with the wolves. They’d been there for as long as he could remember, but never seemed to cause any problems.

“Pingigaven?” he asked, curious about the boy’s fascination with them. They were harmless, for the most part; as long as no one tried to attack one, they tended to keep to themselves. As he thought of the birds, he was reminded of an important being in his culture. “Kaujimaven Tulugaak?” was his next question. He could not recall if he’d ever spoken about the god before or not.

The black wings moved slowly as Keelut appreciated their strangeness, their gleaming. His ears seemed to go deaf for a moment as his focus was fully deposited on the birds' movements and their calls, but Kove's voice brought him back to reality for a short moment, just enough for him to become curious about this creature Kove was talking about.

Tulugaak? he repeated curiously, urging his father to speak more about it. He turned his body towards his dad, then, further pressing fro the words to flow out of Kove's mouth. These were the sort of things that called the child's attention and broadened his imagination. These were things worth spending time learning about.

A name alone had been uttered, and with it had come the acquirement of his son’s curiosity. He was thrilled, in all honesty, for he’d never been able to share the tales of the Inuit with anyone other than Xan. Now, however, it seemed as if another one of his sons was interested in the stories of his culture, and so Kove would not deprave him of them. He had decided ahead of time, though, that it was best to keep things simple for the time being. He could always go into greater detail once the boy was older—he could also share the stories of far more deities and creatures once Keelut was no longer so small, which he looked forward to.

“Tulugaak,” the man began. “Pinngutik kaumak.” It was ironic, almost, that the creator of light had a name that represented such a dark bird. “SiKini takujan, tigusijuk,” he explained, glancing up towards the birds as he did so. One had grasped the skin-wrapped sun within his beak, tore it free, and then sent it up into the sky so that daylight could be created. Now, though, the birds existed as symbols of darkness.

Blue eyes gleamed curiously at Kove as he explained the story of Tulugaak. Light from darkness, that was a strange statement, but strange was interesting, and it sparked yet more hunger for knowledge within the child's curious mind. UKagiallak! he urged, placing a paw on his dad's chest as his tail waved joyfully. His eyes darted off to the rays of light that scuttled through the leaves for a moment, feeling the magic in them, how they shined, how warm they felt. And the birds still fluttered, casting their shadows here and there, growling and cawing at the wolves below. Blackfeather Woods was a magical place.

So little had been shared in regards to Tulugaak, yet it’d still been enough to captivate the boy. Then as more had been requested, Kove had not been able to prevent a smile from slipping across his lips. He had missed out on moments like these with his first litter, which was something that he had always regretted. Even now, as he shared the tales with Keelut, he felt as if he’d failed as a parent the first time around. No matter what he did now would not change that fact, but he’d not allowed for that to weigh him down. Rather than dwelling on that which could never be changed, he looked towards the future with his youngest children, living in the here and now.

Complying with the child’s demand, the man continued by saying, “Siggupâ, mappijuk kisek siKini sakKivuk.” He had set it free from its fleshy imprisonment, and so it was thanks to a creature of great darkness that they could feel the warmth of the light. The story was one that he had always enjoyed as a child and wanted to keep it from being tarnished within his son’s mind. For that reason, the father had made a request. “UKanga puijuk anânak,” Kove had said. It was not because he did not wish to share the stories of his home with her, but because he felt as if he could not trust her with them. The minds of their children were things that he wanted to teach for himself, rather than allow for them to be corrupted by her thoughts and opinions. And so it was his wish that the story be kept between the two of them.

How cool would it be to have the power to alter the world in a way such as Tulugaak had done? Keelut was impressed, and the fluttering of darkbirds above only made it all more magical. But in reality, all Keelut could really think by hearing his father's story was, how would have things been if the ancient Tulugaak hadn't tore the sky open? How would the world be if it was forever shrouded in darkness?

Âhailâ! he agreed, a giggly whisper, for mother wasn't the kind of cool that Kove was. She was cool, of course... But more in a murderous way that appealed mostly to Atshen and Abraxas. Keelut was more of a learner, and observer... Perhaps an absent-minded one, but interested all the same.

Sure. o: p.s. srry this post is lame

An agreement was made, which left Kove smiling. He had nothing against Nemesis, but, even still, he wanted not for her to hear the stories of his homeland. Where her heart lied, whether it was with Mephala or not, he wasn’t sure, and wouldn’t risk her insisting that his stories to share were all untrue. Some might be exaggerated, he would not deny that, but to deny them fully made his stomach twist with uncertainty. Knowing that he needn’t worry about Keelut spilling the details of their story time, he nudged the boy fondly and said, “Nakummek.” Thereafter, he’d decided that enough of time had been spent on stories, and motioned for the boy to follow him as he intended to spend the rest of their time together walking through the woods.