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+--- Thread: Gilded Bay Waiting for the tune of some old dying man (/showthread.php?tid=19497)
Waiting for the tune of some old dying man - Jagoda - December 14, 2016
@Muses
The roar of the sea was loud in his ears, just as he liked. He had missed the sounds and smells of the ocean; no other geographical area touched his soul in the same way, if at all. Since returning from his failed venture of find his sister, Jagoda was eager to resume his duties as an angler. His personal cache was depleated to the point of emptiness and that was enough to send him into a bitter state. But the masked brute was not one for self pity. He knew that the only way to tip his outlook upright was to dive into his work, and that was gis intention as he neares the tidepools of Gilded Bay.
It remained stormy, the coast rendered a frigid chaos of sharp wind and icy rain. The weather bothered him little -- aside from the obvious practical issues of fishing in a storm, Jagoda preferred it this way. He climbed carefully along the slick rocks of the shore, leathery pads as sure as the hooves of a moutain goat. Before long, the dark beast came upon a small pool and decided to look there. Sometimes when the weather was stormy, fish from the sea and estuary both were trapped within the tide pools. He stepped down to the edge and peered into the black water.
RE: Waiting for the tune of some old dying man - Muses - December 14, 2016
The weather was poor, a clash of cloud and bitterly cold winds, sharp with the smell of the salty sea. Normally, the pale wolf would have shied from such weather, retreating into the shelter of the towering sequoias that broke the winter's harsh howling. She was by no means a fair weather beast, but she was not used to such humid winds, pelting ice, and roaring waves. It frightened her a little, and often she found herself longing for the familiarity of home. She missed the mountain peaks and the fields of snow. There was little snow in the area, and although it was winter, it did not feel the same.
In fact, nothing felt the same anymore. She had been nursing for just a few days now, and her abdomen felt sore. Her teats were heavy - she had proven to be an excellent milk producer - but it was all very foreign to her. The swollen lumps swayed awkwardly and changed her gait, and it felt like the fine fur on her tummy was always matted and slick with her sweet smelling lactation. It was not unpleasant, but it certainly felt like a borrowed experience. The pups were not her own. She had skipped the unpleasantness of pregnancy and went straight to motherhood.
But she was young and inexperienced. Already, she found herself needing a break, starved to get out of the den - although she loved Doe's company - and starved for a meal she could catch herself. Unfortunately, she was in no shape to run about, and so she was stuck with hunting, sullenly stocking the coastline with very little luck. Fishing was not her area of expertise, and especially with the stormy weather, she did not know how she would ever manage to catch a single fish.
Luck was on her side, however, as she spotted a distant figure, wolf by the scent. She trotted close, ears splayed sideways to listen forward while simultaneously avoiding the wind. Looming over the tide pool was a stranger who looked like he knew what he was doing. Maybe he could give her some helpful hints. Approaching cautiously, she offered a gentle, polite chuff, just loud enough to be heard over the gale, and waited, not wanting to interrupt if he was about to catch something.
RE: Waiting for the tune of some old dying man - Jagoda - December 15, 2016
Jagoda stood perfectly still on a shallow ledge raised ever so slightly above the swirling water. Starfish and anemone alike clung to the walls and floor of the pool, but he saw no fish. Sighing with disappointment, he sat back on his muscular haunches and closed his yellow eyes. For a moment he simply listened to the lashing rain, and he let his nostrils fill with the briney scent of the sea and its creatures.
He detected her before she made sound. The most peculiar odor penetrated the salty atmosphere, one that, to his utter astonishment, reminded him of his mother. The shock wore off by the time he turned his head to look at her with piercing sun rays for eyes, their yellow hue cutting through the dreary grey storm that raged along the coast. There was a distant softness in his eyes, along with an odd glare of hunger that had nothing to do with his stomach. She was a beautiful young woman -- too young to be a mother, but that rendered her even more attractive.
"Hey," came his growling murmur of a voice. Jagoda did not intend to be rude. It was just his way
RE: Waiting for the tune of some old dying man - Muses - December 15, 2016
She offered a half smile, an airy flick of her tail, and stepped forward, as though the offhanded greeting had been a warm invitation. It was good to be outside again, to have a conversation that did not revolve around panicked questions concerning nursing. For a moment, she seemed utterly relaxed, the biting wind teasing her long, fine hairs.
"Any good fishing around here?" She asked, stopping just a few body lengths away. Her stare broke as she cast a gaze aside to the shallow pools. It was hard to see past the distorted ripples, and her inexperience made it so that she could distinguish nothing in the waters. She struggled to stifle a sigh, her attention rounding again upon the male. Her nose twitched as she struggled to smell past the salt and milk, catching only the faintest scents of the neighbouring pack - although she could have been mistaken. Nonetheless, her guard was lowered and her posture friendly, as one might be in the presence of an old companion.
RE: Waiting for the tune of some old dying man - Jagoda - December 15, 2016
Jagoda eyed her shamelessly, noticing how the wind caught her fur and brushed it this way and that. She approached him and the milk-smell became almost overwhelming, but this was not a bad thing.
The young woman asked him about the fishing, to which he gave a small shrug. "Not here," Jagoda spoke, shaking his head. He rose from his seated position, his leathery pads again gripping the rocks, his step never faultering. "Come with me? I will catch something for you. Perhaps you'll learn something." he beckoned her with a tilt of his head and began to walk away, heading for the nearest pool. Her mannerisms so far appeared to be amiable. Jagoda had little doubt that the stranger would follow him.
RE: Waiting for the tune of some old dying man - Muses - December 15, 2016
She followed willingly, obediently, clearly pleased that she had found a willing companion. Bracing herself against the cold, she followed after, moving swiftly along the slick rocks. It was not so different from navigating icy terrain, or a mountainside during a spring storm.
At the mention of learning something, Muses burst out lauging, tail arching high over her back. "It's that obvious I'm no good at fishing?" She exclaimed, trailing after. Ideally, she would have preferred to run down her prey, but she was in no condition to do such thing. The protruding teats made her feel clumsy and off-balance, and would ache if she ran too quickly or trotted for too long.
RE: Waiting for the tune of some old dying man - Jagoda - December 15, 2016
The silver-furred girl eagerly followed, and, hearing her walk right behind him, he smiled. He was happy to have company, happy to help a she-wolf whose pups depended upon her remaining well-fed and healthy. The outburst of laughter caught him off guard, but his slippery grin did not fade. He understood why she may have found his comment laughable.
"No, miss. Not at all," he cooed. Indeed, Jagoda had offered her some of his aangling expertise on the assumption that she had very littke skill of her own. But that was more due to her tender young age than to what he perceived as her level of intelligence.
"Name's Jagoda." They had arrived beside another tide pool, this one with a bank of small, smooth pebbles. Looking back at the pale stranger, he sunk onto his belly and waited for her to do the same.
"First, we have to watch. And wait. Try not to be seen."
RE: Waiting for the tune of some old dying man - Muses - December 15, 2016
Cocking an ear towards her companion, her smile turned lopsided, an easy adornment upon her visage. "Well, I'm not." She admitted shamelessly, footfalls light. "I lived most my life upon mountains, never knowing that such expansive seas existed." Her tail swept in a wide arc to indicate towards the rolling waters.
"Muses," She reciprocated, stating a name that had now become almost natural to her. Swiftly, she added "From Donnelaith." It was only proper to identify herself as an ally to other coastal wolves.
Mirroring the male's positioning, she slowly lowered herself onto her stomach, taking a moment to adjust herself and accommodate for the unfamiliar growth. She did so silently, for to sheepishly draw attention to her teats would be of no help - it was obvious already. When she was comfortable, she nodded, and then set her steady, silver gaze upon the dark waters before her.
RE: Waiting for the tune of some old dying man - Jagoda - December 15, 2016
jagoda snickered softly and turned his gaze back to the brackish water. she lay beside him, and the weather being as it was, he could feel the heat radiating from her body. it was comforting; usually the man did not get physically close with others, even and especially in a casual situation such as this.
"Do you miss the mountains?" he asked softly, recalling how homesick he had become on his journey after Ksenia. it was an ugly feeling.
"Donnelaith. So we are friends, huh? I hail from Blackrock Depths. Have you been there?" as soon as he had finished his question, a flash of silver caught his eye. There were two fish darting around in the depths of the pool. But they would need to wait for them to swim closer, and in the meantime, perhaps he could get to know the young wolf.
RE: Waiting for the tune of some old dying man - Muses - December 15, 2016
She nodded, throwing a sidelong glance towards the male. "Yes, very much so." Passionate sincerity weighed heavily upon each word. She loved Donnelaith, truly, but the towering trees were no substitute for the rocky spires of the mountain range she once called home. Tilting her head, she turned to look at her companion through thick lashes, watching his attention shift before her and the water. It reminded her that she ought to be paying attention as well. Reluctantly, she returned her focus to the little pool.
"I thought you smelled familiar!" She hummed, but seemed distracted. She too had caught the flash of scales, and her body now stiffened in anticipation, eager to procure a catch. "I've been by, though never in. I suppose it will only be a matter of time." She responded openly, although without immediate elaboration. For now, she would remain in Donnelaith, having no idea when or if Skellige would want his brood to be moved. "The pups I care for belong to the same pack." Only a few days into the duty, and she did not find herself overly attached the the litter. In all honesty, the experience was surreal and had not yet hit home. "Have you been there long?" She was somewhat surprised to meet a Blackrock wolf who might not know who she was.
RE: Waiting for the tune of some old dying man - Jagoda - January 10, 2017
Sorry about the horrendous wait.
She answered his question in bittersweet tones, obviously sincere in her yearning from her original home. He nodded knowingly in response, thinking for the first time in a long while of his childhood, of the place he had grown up alongside his Cairn siblings. He did not miss it as he had missed Blackrock depths, but there was nostlagia in the memories. There was a time when he and the others had never been divided, and while the family rival added flavor to his life, he often wondered how it would feel to live in union among ever Cairn brother and sister.
Her lovely voice came to him and his thoughts were brought back to the present. She had mentioned an intriguing tidbit of information. Not only were her pups not her own, they weren't of the same pack as she, either. Jagoda lifted a dark brow in surprise. Oh? he spoke, eyeing the silver woman curiously. So you are a wet nurse. That's noble. But why are you caring for the brood of another pack? The masked boy was utterly confused. He could see becoming a nursemaid for the usual reasons, the death or illness of the birthmother, or possibly the obligations being too great for a highly-ranked mother to care for pups.
He eyed the glints of silver out of the corner of his eye. They remained on the opposite end of the pool, but even so, they could wait. This was too interesting.