+- Wolf RPG (https://wolf-rpg.com)
+-- Forum: In Character: Roleplaying (https://wolf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=5)
+--- Forum: Archives (https://wolf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=11)
+--- Thread: Lion Head Mesa and if you could still see the moon (/showthread.php?tid=23502)
and if you could still see the moon - Ira Astoria - October 12, 2017
For Braenar. (This is… unreasonably long, to catch up on backstory. I promise I won’t be keeping this up, nor do I expect you to match post-length!)
The journey may have been long, but it was far from arduous. Although their feet had taken them roughly 1000 kilometers - as the crow flies - they had made the most of it. For weeks now, Ira Astoria and his firstborn son, Braenar, had "endured" a resplendent pilgrimage from their home so far to the east. Travelling was not novel to Ira; that said, his pack, Ad Astra, was not in the habit of travelling unless it were ordained by the sky that they must, and it did take time to be able to accurately predict when that might occur. For instance, his children had only ever known the valley in which their pack had settled just a couple years back. And, in fact, there the rest of the pack still remained. But it was not meant to be for the two Astorias shaking out their coats from the recent rains that had blown through them, now once again in a land full of unexplored wonders.
Ira had chosen their path carefully, following the rising signs to the west and counting the days by measures of the moon. Even though he had not ascended to the council of star-gazing experts that made up the diviners they'd left behind (as he was expected to do), the talent for leadership nevertheless lived on within him and was expressed heartily throughout their travels. Every day was a new opportunity to teach his son how to position themselves by relating landmarks to the position of celestial objects overhead as the sunlight began to fade each evening. Together they were able to appreciate the most variegated landscapes he could ever have imagined - some beyond his capabilities to foresee. Rising mountains that would have been impossible to summit; stretches of high desert that you could not see the horizon across, but merely a shadow of gray where your eyesight could travel no further; every type of tree and forest that he could have imagined (albeit knowing that seeing so many new things surely meant there were unending discoveries in every direction); wide rivers and lakes of greens, blues, grays, and even clear - their bottoms littered with dead trees like eerie snakes below the surface; and of course, the weather.
The callouses on the pads of his feet were thick, and a far different color than they had been before setting out. They had baked underneath an unforgiving sun, been blown off course by fierce winds, endured rains ranging from constant drizzle to flash downpours, and just last week had seen the first snow of the season whilst crossing a low mountain pass. One thing remained the same, no matter where they went: the stars. They had not traveled outside of the same section of sky that made up the familiar constellations he was accustomed to (and indeed, did not think that the sky could possibly look different anywhere else). And so, despite the changing weather and terrain, he was unsurprised when they started to encounter trees turning orange, brown, and red. Autumn was setting in.
The thought had occurred to him more than once lately that despite having no indication from their horoscoping that their journey was nearing an end, they needed to consider bedding down in an area where hunting would be flush through the winter, and limit their range to more-or-less a “territory.” It had been easy enough for the two of them to take down the summer game (and oh, what a variety that was, too!), but that benefit was not likely to last. And so, despite there still being several good hours of travel left in him for the day, he stopped walking. It was not, of course, the first time they had stopped. They weren’t mad. They slept, they recuperated, they even took time for recreation. There were a few weeks that they had given to exploring only a small swath of land along as though they might stay, but always they ended up moving on. As Ira told Braenar frequently, when they were meant to stop, they would. And judging by how strong their muscles had become, they were built for a long journey yet to come.
He put his nose to the sky and sniffed. They had come upon something of a plateau, the slow rise of the land and suddenly become very flat. Though it was not the tallest terrain in the region, it did offer a fair look at some of the landmarks and vegetation around them. At once, his body stiffened, for two different reasons. The first was that he smelled other predators having recently been near, and more importantly wolves. Of course, this was not the first time they’d encountered other wolves, but it still called for caution. The second, and far more important, was what he saw on the horizon. Water. The biggest, incalculable expanse of water he had ever seen. It was by no means close to them, but it could not be ignored. "What… is that," he said, more to himself than anything, eyes wide and unblinking. He surely did not expect his son to know. But neither did he.
RE: and if you could still see the moon - Braenar - October 15, 2017
This post is awful cause I've been trying to write it all day, but I wanted to get something up. :X
Braenar didn't remember his mother, at least not in the ways he wanted to. He could recall some physical things: the bold copper of her eyes that mirrored the primary colour of his own, the way she differed from the rest of their family with a pelt of ash and charcoal, the warmth of her smile whenever she looked his way. But it was the finer details that her firstborn had so desperately tried to hold onto in the months that followed her untimely demise, like the comforting scent of her fur and the soothing lilt of her voice. For a long time Braenar struggled with losing these parts of his dam, fearing that he would forget her entirely as time passed by. At the tender age of twelve weeks, he had been too young to understand why she would no longer be coming home to them, though old enough to know that he'd never see her again.
Born under the sign of Cancer, Braenar had always been a sensitive and emotional creature. Thus, the loss of Emese had troubled him greatly and continued to do so in adulthood, though he was far more capable of channelling that grief elsewhere. He looked to the stars for guidance, continued to study and learn to better manage his emotions. Braenar would miss his mother always, but solemn thoughts of her did not have to control his mind; she would wish him to move on and find himself, rather than dwell on the misery that accompanied his childhood.
The eclipse had helped him realise this, and he'd considered his own departure long before his father announced his. He'd kept his revelation to himself while Ira seemed to withdraw into himself throughout the lunar cycle that followed the event that transformed him entirely. Braenar, ever concerned his sire's welfare as he resisted sleep, nourishment and companionship, felt in his bones that changes would soon occur in Ad Astra.
These came in the announcement of Ira Astoria's need to depart and as a result, Braenar's decision to follow. He sympathized with Riddle and Erzsi, the siblings he would leave behind, but Braenar would not allow guilt to consume him again. To begin anew, far from the place of his birth, was in part what he believed to be his calling, and in part a very real fear of losing his one remaining parent forever.
They'd travelled for weeks and as they entered the Teekon, Braenar was audibly exhausted. He trailed lazily behind his father, grumbling inwardly as they ascended yet another incline, one thankfully not as steep as others they'd faced. When at last the tawny yearling dragged himself onto the ledge, he parted his jaws in a well-earned, exaggerated yawn. When he opened his mismatched eyes again, he looked toward the crimson form of his sire, but ended up staring right past him. A vast body of water lay before them, seemingly endless, and Braenar moved in to stand alongside his fellow traveller to gawk at this expanse. "The most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he laughed then, trying to mask the confusion and caution he felt, "I'm so thirsty, I could probably drink it dry!"
RE: and if you could still see the moon - Ira Astoria - October 16, 2017
No way! It's beautiful. <3
Ira’s eyes flickered back and forth rapidly, as though speed would allow him to take in the full sight of the watery reach. But it was impossible. For as far as he could see from left to right, that water churned gray and white in the distance. The sky was a mixture of clouds and sunspots, and where there were no clouds, there was a brilliant sparkle over the waters. He could not guestimate how many days journey it was from them, but it wasn’t close. That alone spoke to the size of it. Wider than any river or lake he’d ever seen, it was impossible to see if it had any edges other than the one facing them. His son’s voice earned an ear twitch from him, but he was unable to turn his eyes away.
A grin spread over his muzzle, and he nodded his head, though quite sure Braenar would also not turn to look at him. "My sentiments exactly," he concurred. "Think on the constellation Capricorn,” he suggested. "The legend says the goat comes from the sea, a salt water far larger and vast than the waterways we have ever known. Instead of cutting through the land like a river does, it is bigger than land itself."
He stared, quietly, for some time. Then spoke, "Your grandmother was a Capricorn. And she said, like the sea-goat, the Astorias were born from the surf far, far away." He now turned to look at his son: tired, thirsty, worn – Ira’s pride toward him surged. Despite all of these things wearing him down, the sense of adventure and dedication was still cultivated within him and shining through. The spirit of their family – and indeed, of Braenar’s mother – lived on through him, and Ira knew now that it would have been wholly a mistake not to include him on this quest. What do you think, have we found the sea? Have we found our origins? His eyes seemed to ask, but he felt no need to voice the questions – fully confident that his son would arrive at the same quandaries.
RE: and if you could still see the moon - Braenar - October 29, 2017
He continued to stare out toward the horizon, mismatched eyes never trailing from the farthest point where sea and sky blurred together in a stormy haze. It both intrigued and frightened him at the same time. While he was still some distance from where Braenar and his father stood, a part of him wished to draw nearer while another part wanted to turn back. Ira's voice broke the yearling's muddied thoughts, though only a velvet ear was canted in the paler wolf's direction.
He spoke of the constellation Capricorn, and how the goat originated from a salt water sea larger than the land itself. Carrying on, he noted that his own mother had been born in this sign, and told of how their ancestors had come from the shores far from his birthplace. Curious, Braenar turned his head to look upon his father's face, and was met with questioning green eyes. "This could be that surf," he acknowledged with a wave of his tail, finding that linking the sea to their family made it significantly less terrifying.
RE: and if you could still see the moon - Ira Astoria - November 01, 2017
"There are some things that feel more like legend than reality," Ira admitted, referring chiefly to the topic at hand. And it was true. Doubting destiny was very honestly part of reading the stars. You could not believe without doubt. And yet, it was less mistrust and more caution that had held Ira back from a life of preaching. He had served as an interpreter, not a prophet; someone to make sense of what the sky told them while at the same time leaving room for error and growth. Indeed, nothing was necessarily preordained when everyone had the choice not to follow their destiny.
That said, it had been challenging for him at times to call upon myths that he had not seen for himself, being at once both a mystical and practical wolf. He felt his eyes prickling with emotion. He was transported back to that feeling of seeing the solar eclipse. This was once more a confrontation with that which was much bigger than himself. He voiced it: "There is so much that we do not know." There was a slight melancholy to his words, but the overwhelming energy behind them was one of awe and reverence. "But I am certain this is what I have been looking for." He finally turned away to look at his son, silently questioning if he felt the same. At this juncture, Ira did not feel it was his place to interpret his son's path for him.