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+--- Thread: Bearclaw Valley a gentle gossamer wing (/showthread.php?tid=25588)
a gentle gossamer wing - Hamartia - February 14, 2018
all welcome!! hoping to meet some packmates she hasnt yet
❤
❤
Her head is abuzz between her daily rites at her altar and the still-lingering memory of the blood moon, of Phocion's sermon and her weeping. The storms keeps her from her daily routine for a few days, yet the interruption is not unwelcome. It gives her time to reassess. Is she not repeating history, falling into these patterns of rite without purpose, keeping her idle paws busy so she does not have to reflect on the sins she's not coping with? Clearly there is more for her to examine in herself, more than some well placed hyancinth will forgive.
So with the sky clear and the ground thick with wetly layed snow drift the ex-priestess makes her way into the heart of the valley, forcing herself away from her routines. There must be a way for her to carve out a life in the valley, something communual beyond existing as Wardruna's second wife. If only she had a clue how to just be a pack wolf.
RE: a gentle gossamer wing - Indra - February 19, 2018
forward dated w/ permission
it had only been a few days since the hunt and the subsequent altercation between laurel and the voiceless wolf, but indra still felt at unease. she was strung tighter than an adder's coil as she rounded back and forth across the borders, throwing her thin body against bare trees and rocks to cloak them with her scent. her heat still clung thick to her heels and she was frustrated for reasons beyond the events that had transpired.
she had wanted to be alone, but as she drove deeper into the forest she became aware she was anything but - fresh laid prints dimpled the soft snow, and as she nosed them she recognized the scent as poet's. indra did not know the woman well, though hazily she recalled that poet had attended to her when she had been at her most delirious. she supposed it would be the right thing to do then by thanking her, and drifted after the woman as quickly as she could.
RE: a gentle gossamer wing - Hamartia - February 19, 2018
ty for joining!
Her walk goes interrupted for some time, which, while it does not do much for her problem of feeling like she belongs here, is not particularly troublesome. The weather is mild enough as to be enjoyable despite the frost, and after a while her thoughts wander aimlessly, leaving her oblivious to Indra's approach until the girl is nearly upon her.
Immediately her gaze flickers to where she knows her injury to be, although she can't see anything at this angle. The glance is but a second, long enough for her to feel a flicker of guilt at not being able to provide more help during the healing process. "Indra," Poet greets softly and tilts her head, curious what the other seeks from her.
RE: a gentle gossamer wing - Indra - February 21, 2018
as soon as the wolf took note of her indra felt her step falter - maybe she had made a mistake striding so boldly towards her. maybe the wolf didn't want her company. either way, indra sucked in a deep breath and completely missed the slightly guilty expression that stole over poet's features.
"i, uh.." she started, suddenly feeling like a girl again. she looked to the snow as she tried to rid herself of her sheepish pride -- it was okay to be humble, right? to be vulnerable? she thought of laurel -- no -- she thought of blondine -- what would blondine do in this moment?
indra knew the answer. that woman had the wits and the good graces to be unabashedly gracious to someone that had done her a favor. "i never.. got to say thank you." she dared look upon poet now, though she did not look her in the eye for worry it may be interpreted as a challenge. "so... thank you."
RE: a gentle gossamer wing - Hamartia - February 23, 2018
She isn't entirely expecting the show of gratitude, doing her best not to look taken aback. "Of course," Poet says immediately, lowering her own head slightly, "I only did what anyone else would do." It was fortunate she had been nearby, yet the ex-priestess is sure Blondine or any other with a basic handle on crisis and first aid could have done what she did.
In fact, the flash of guilt she'd felt prior is only magnified by Indra's gracious display. Poet doesn't deserve gratitude. She hasn't, really, in quite some time. "Truthfully, I don't believe you should thank me," she admits as much, her turn to glance away sheepishly. "I did not provide much care; I apologise for neglecting to check on you during recovery."
RE: a gentle gossamer wing - Indra - February 24, 2018
indra knew she was behooved to this woman for her actions, however insignificant poet believed them to be. all indra knew was in the time she had stumbled home poet had been one of the first to treat her; she owed her and blondine a great bit and while it was hard to work the courage to admit it, in her heart she knew it to be so.
poet's actions suggested she seemed guilty, though for what, indra did not draw the connection. she offered a brief smile and dipped her head in turn. she followed poet's gaze, though did not attempt to connect their eyesight. "you did something." she replied simply, a roll of her shoulders following. "that is more than most." there was no subtle accusation in her tone, but indra realized after it may have been interpreted that way. quick to push away any interminable or fretful lull in conversation she began to move again. "you already know probably, but i'm indra redleaf. laurel redleaf is my sister. we came to the valley three months ago." indra's shaky attempt at conversation was made in the hopes she could perhaps learn more of poet - thus far, she knew nothing of the woman save for the familiarization of her sharp features, and that she had been one of the first to tend to her.
RE: a gentle gossamer wing - Hamartia - March 02, 2018
Indra's attitude reminds her to accept the gratitude with grace rather than dwell selfishly on the ways she feels she's failed. She hums thoughtfully, dipping her head in a soft nod with a murmured, "alright," her voice humbled.
They do not dwell on it, Indra moving the conversation along. Grateful for the temperence, Poet nods. "I've met Laurel briefly," she agrees (thinking fondly of 'shit-balls' yet again). Three months: roughly around the same time as Poet's own arrival, although at first she had not paid much attention to the valley's other inhabitants. "I came to the Valley around that time as well, along with Wardruna and Sif," she says aloud, unsure if Indra's met her husband or sister-wife yet. Wardruna's presence has been scarce, alas, though she is not particularly bothered (Laurel had been right, after all, in that they barely knew each other) so long as Sif is around. "Truthfully," she admits, her voice dropping slightly, "I have not been very good at... socializing. I am not so used to living in a pack of this kind." This comes with an accompanying, slightly self-deprecating grimace, unused as she is to admitting to her now-obvious social flaws. Things certainly had been easier when she'd been mostly a tool for religious ceremony and not just, a person, expected to ... bond with others.
RE: a gentle gossamer wing - Indra - March 03, 2018
indra's ears had been fixed in poet's direction, though one did pull askance at the mention of laurel. sif was another name she recognized (and had a fondness for) though wardruna was not. she had yet to meet the male that carried both as his companions -- and she remained blissfully unaware of the nature of their union.
indra caught a slight drop in the woman's tone, as if she were confiding some great secret to the redleaf girl. her amber gaze lifts and she holds poet's face in her vision for a moment before turning away. a similar grimace sprouted on her own lips - she was no stranger to the difficulties of communal living. she was not sure what poet meant by her words - particularly a 'pack of this kind' -- but took no offense in it.
"i only know a few. i'm not very good either." indra admitted, though inwardly she believed it was not her fault (or laurel's, for that matter) that her most recent interactions with a certain packmate had been unsavory. not wanting to elaborate on why she wasn't very good, the girl quickly vied to change the subject. "what do you mean a pack of this kind? are other packs different?"
RE: a gentle gossamer wing - Hamartia - March 06, 2018
Indra echoes her statement, giving her a small sense of relief. Poet knows she isn't socially inept to a dangerous degree (she has managed to make friends in Blondine and Sif and Phocion at the least) but all the same it is reassuring to know she is not the only one who feels somewhat out of sync. Perhaps she is not so strange as she feels sometimes.
"Ah," the ex-priestess says, feeling a flush of embarrassment. "Well, the pack I came from ... it was not quite a pack in the traditional sense of the word, but a religious sect where I served as a priestess." Beneath-Night's Breath had been an 'alpha' in the sense that they were a god but ... no, it was not quite the same thing at all. "I grew up there and never experienced a more traditional sort of communal living. I feel somewhat lacking in purpose," she admits in turn. She does what she is told and she knows she has valuable skills to contribute, yet the lack of structured ritual is still something of an adjustment for her.
RE: a gentle gossamer wing - Indra - March 07, 2018
indra suspected she caught the fringe of shame in her companion's tones -- but when she looked at poet fully, no expression betrayed the subtle tone she had heard. indra elected then to not press the issue and stilled her tongue.
somehow the girl was not surprised to learn poet had been a priestess in a past life -- there was a forbidding sharpness about poet that indra could not identify -- but it was there keen as winter's edge or a falcon's yellow gaze.
"traditional?" indra repeated, an ear swung back as she weighed the word. what was traditional, anyway. was she traditional? blondine? xan or laurel? "how do you mean?"
RE: a gentle gossamer wing - Hamartia - March 10, 2018
While Indra's questions are warranted, increasingly Poet feels embarrassed by them. Her perceptions of pack structure outside of her temple may be... skewed, somewhat. She looks away, hiding her feelings, although sheepishness comes through clear in her tones: "er, secular in nature, with a hierarchy headed by alpha-leadership." Her understanding of this sort of pack comes from snippets of conversation, brief discussions with the temple's visitors.. but perhaps it is less common than she believes. Or perhaps it is simply rude to try and generalise a pack into a schema of traditional or not. "At the temple, I served a very specific purpose that I am, er, still finding a way to replace... does that make sense?" Poet's voice wavers uncertainly, hoping she has not inadvertently offended Indra with her fumbling.
RE: a gentle gossamer wing - Indra - March 10, 2018
indra noticed the slight unease the woman carried, but was unsure how to assuage it. she did not make her own conclusions about poet's previous deportment, only because she lacked the experience to even know such things were in existence. to her, most packs had been fairly linear in their structure -- with a single, clearly defined leader, and a trickling of subordinates after.
poet's words didn't make sense to indra, but she didn't press for an answer in light of the woman's uncomfortable mien. she looked to the ground with her lips thinly pressed together and nodded in affirmation. "you're not the only one." she said with a roll of her shoulders, inexpertly trying to make poet feel less embarrassed. "i haven't found my place either. we'll get it eventually, right?"
RE: a gentle gossamer wing - Hamartia - March 11, 2018
fading here <3
Whether or not she is able to correctly clarify her thoughts, Indra accepts what she says. Grateful, she dips her head and murmurs, "I agree." Perhaps the issue is her tendency to divide off her roles in the temple from her life now, as if any remnant of her former life is toxic. No one here knows what's she's done or has any reason to think poorly of her -- and before Beneath-Night's Breath's death, she was perfectly fine at her various duties. She can serve Bearclaw again in a similar fashion.
Reassured, she offers a smile. "Thank you, Indra," Poet says sincerely, and then with a polite farewell, takes her leave to reflect on her thoughts.
RE: a gentle gossamer wing - Indra - March 11, 2018
<3
poet's affirmation bolstered the girl's own insecurities about her place in bearclaw, and she afforded poet the rarest of smiles. maybe it was not so bad to be out of place -- maybe that gave the individual a certain outside advantage -- after all, in the eye of the storm, everything seems at rest.
she rejoined with a quiet "goodbye -- and thank you again.. for the tail.." and then made for her own den, content that she had shown her gratitude to the priestess. perhaps in the future, they would both be more at home. indra hoped that would be the case, as she made for laurel's sleeping grounds.