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+--- Thread: Ankyra Sound Tragedies with penniless fountains (/showthread.php?tid=27075)
Tragedies with penniless fountains - Ephraim - May 06, 2018
It was warm and nearing midday on the sound when Ephraim vacated the grotto's depths, yawning widely as his tiny paws carried him into the sun. He often slept late into the day now that all of his senses had become normal to him; the excitement of new discoveries sometimes roused him, but more often than not, the sandy coywolf was too lazy. He left the discoveries to his siblings and spent his afternoons lounging around on the beach. Occasionally he chased after scuttling crabs or picked at cracked sea shells, but he also passed a lot of time lying on his back, warmed by the sun, watching the clouds go by.
That was precisely what he meant to do that afternoon, but high tide was creeping up the beach. Water lapped at the raised entry of the grotto and as Ephraim stepped down from the rock, he sunk ankle-deep into frigid ocean water. With a sharp gasp and a squeal the little pup leaped back onto the rock, tail curling around his hindquarters as he scowled venomously down at the sodden ground.
That was precisely what he meant to do that afternoon, but high tide was creeping up the beach. Water lapped at the raised entry of the grotto and as Ephraim stepped down from the rock, he sunk ankle-deep into frigid ocean water. With a sharp gasp and a squeal the little pup leaped back onto the rock, tail curling around his hindquarters as he scowled venomously down at the sodden ground.
RE: Tragedies with penniless fountains - Mahler - May 14, 2018
mahler had begun to pile stones near his ramshackle shelter to mark the progress of the days. the brine beheld more often his broad bulk in its lapping embrace, at times hackle-deep. yet the man continued to keep his own company — for a week he had said nothing to a single wolf of grimnismal.
presently a foolish seabird had attempted a theft of fish from the musiker; it now dangled from his jaws, weakly flapping wings that dragged long pinions in the sand. not dead — the man saw no reason to dispatch it in the moment.
salt-stiffened hackles flared when the hard lilac of his stare beheld movement. one of the witch's brood, testing the water. pausing a long moment, mahler contemplated merely moving on his way, but instead approached with heavy steps of his broad paws. presently, the great beast stared implacably at the child, then hurled down his burden, so that it splashed saltwater up along the stone. "kill it," came the musiker's rusted croak; there was no longer music to be found here, but perhaps he might be entertained by the attempts of so young a wolf.
the idea he was being rather cruel surfaced in the murk of his stubborn mind, disorganized as it had not been since the death of his loved ones; mahler settled himself nearby and pinned the boy with the stone of his lavender eyes.
presently a foolish seabird had attempted a theft of fish from the musiker; it now dangled from his jaws, weakly flapping wings that dragged long pinions in the sand. not dead — the man saw no reason to dispatch it in the moment.
salt-stiffened hackles flared when the hard lilac of his stare beheld movement. one of the witch's brood, testing the water. pausing a long moment, mahler contemplated merely moving on his way, but instead approached with heavy steps of his broad paws. presently, the great beast stared implacably at the child, then hurled down his burden, so that it splashed saltwater up along the stone. "kill it," came the musiker's rusted croak; there was no longer music to be found here, but perhaps he might be entertained by the attempts of so young a wolf.
the idea he was being rather cruel surfaced in the murk of his stubborn mind, disorganized as it had not been since the death of his loved ones; mahler settled himself nearby and pinned the boy with the stone of his lavender eyes.
RE: Tragedies with penniless fountains - Ephraim - May 20, 2018
He was just chancing a step onto the waterlogged strand when Mahler happened by his rocky roost. Ephraim's blue eyes lifted to inspect the man as he passed, but instead the wolf stopped nearby. It was the gargoyle from the beach, he noted with some childish disdain. The man had done much of nothing on his first time out of the grotto and he was surprised at being given any recognition now. It had seemed his life would remain this way forever—the only wolf here who took notice of them was Caiaphas. Mahler proved him wrong.
But as the waterfowl hit the ground with a splash and the tiny coywolf's eyes followed it, he found he neither understood Mahler's words nor meaning. The command was beyond his limited grasp at this age. His thin tail swept pensively over the dusty rock and he lifted his gaze questioningly to the adult, never uttering a noise of his own. His nose lifted imperceptibly; what did he want?
RE: Tragedies with penniless fountains - Mahler - May 28, 2018
the pup did not speak; it was stoic despite being one so young. mahler mirrored the stone regard of the child, turning only with a small movement to note that the seabird had succumbed to his careless dragging of it along the shoreline. it moved no more in the shallows, and after a long moment, the musiker returned the implacability of his lavender stare upon his unwilling companion.
here he swept his gaze over the small-budded features, noting or perhaps assuming what the child had gained from caiaphas and what from kierkegaard. and because the wolf before him was a child, and one for which he felt absolutely nothing, mahler did not attempt to temper his narrowed gaze with civility. only boredom kept him there upon the strand.
presently, the man waded in to lift the limp bird and let it fall to the sand between he and the sea-hag's spawn. there was no sense in repeating a command the other was either too stupid or too young to understand; they were of the same equation for mahler. in a deft motion, the silent thing plucked a mouthful of feathers from the seafowl's breast, spat them into the water, and began to feed as if he was suddenly and completely alone.
here he swept his gaze over the small-budded features, noting or perhaps assuming what the child had gained from caiaphas and what from kierkegaard. and because the wolf before him was a child, and one for which he felt absolutely nothing, mahler did not attempt to temper his narrowed gaze with civility. only boredom kept him there upon the strand.
presently, the man waded in to lift the limp bird and let it fall to the sand between he and the sea-hag's spawn. there was no sense in repeating a command the other was either too stupid or too young to understand; they were of the same equation for mahler. in a deft motion, the silent thing plucked a mouthful of feathers from the seafowl's breast, spat them into the water, and began to feed as if he was suddenly and completely alone.
RE: Tragedies with penniless fountains - Ephraim - May 29, 2018
Well, this guy was a massive drag. They stared at one another for a time, Mahler's eyes slitted and Ephraim's wide but impassive, and then the stony charcoal wolf took up the bird and proceeded to ignore him. The small hybrid remained where he was for only a moment longer, then lost interest just as Mahler had. He edged a narrow paw out onto the wet sand, deemed it safe, and then headed away from the grotto, toward where Caiaphas had taken them the day before, where he flopped down on a waterlogged bed of washed up kelp, eyes to the sky, and yawned. Two could play the game of pretending the other didn't exist; Ephraim played it all the time with his siblings.
RE: Tragedies with penniless fountains - Mahler - June 01, 2018
the child did not stay long beside mahler; one coal-hued aud flicked to follow the sound of the little one's retreat from him. in time, the gargoyle thing lifted his muzzle, its length limned with blood, and looked to the place where the boy had gone. as the seafowl held no more interest for mahler, the pup had reclaimed it. with a deliberate heaviness to his tread, mahler stepped after the witch's spawn and laid the hard lavender over the reclining child, who seemed as if he existed all to himself.
the musiker found curiosity in this; he reclined some feet away to observe, neutral as ever but intrigued in spite of his desire to be involved.
the musiker found curiosity in this; he reclined some feet away to observe, neutral as ever but intrigued in spite of his desire to be involved.
RE: Tragedies with penniless fountains - Ephraim - June 09, 2018
Ephraim shot his head up, alarmed, when the sound of paws treading heavily across the sand alerted him to Mahler's approach. The instinct to flee any threat that marked puphood had yet to leave him. Perhaps it never would, as poorly socialized with the pack as he was. Only his family held his trust currently. It stood to reason that his caution with everyone else was born of unfamiliarity, and much of it came from as far back as his ancestry. He was made not only of wolves, but of flightier creatures as well.
What did this lurking goblin of a wolf want with him? He didn't have the bird anymore; that was left on the grotto's threshold. The soggy pup slowly lowered his chin back to his paws, but he kept his eyes glued on Mahler, and his hide twitched to betray his readiness to take off at any sign of aggression or reprimand.
What did this lurking goblin of a wolf want with him? He didn't have the bird anymore; that was left on the grotto's threshold. The soggy pup slowly lowered his chin back to his paws, but he kept his eyes glued on Mahler, and his hide twitched to betray his readiness to take off at any sign of aggression or reprimand.
RE: Tragedies with penniless fountains - Mahler - June 15, 2018
mahler had swiftly run back over his behavior, and had been overcome with a great sense of shame. the changes in grimnismal had come too quickly and fiercely; he did not accept such things well, and it had made of him a harder thing. and while the musiker was aware he had no true reason to seek the boy's apology, and no true reason for the wary child to trust or believe him, he set about it all the same.
flattening himself against the sand as best a brute of his breadth could do, mahler adopted a penitent expression, nestling his chin beneath forepaws, ears backswept and tail drumming lightly against the strand. perhaps if nothing was lost in the translation, his intent might be achieved.
flattening himself against the sand as best a brute of his breadth could do, mahler adopted a penitent expression, nestling his chin beneath forepaws, ears backswept and tail drumming lightly against the strand. perhaps if nothing was lost in the translation, his intent might be achieved.
RE: Tragedies with penniless fountains - Ephraim - June 17, 2018
The boy's narrow shoulders grew taut as Mahler sought the earth, and every youthful line of his face was edged with tension. What now? Understanding didn't come easily to the coywolf child, who hadn't been socialized with his pack as well as he ought to have been and was still ignorant of all the nuances of body language. Some of it came naturally. Mahler's lower position was enough to loosen the cub's shoulders up, at least. The ears pressed back meant something like peace to him, a motion he or his siblings took turns at when play grew too rough. He wasn't learned enough to comprehend the expression in the adult wolf's eyes, however.
Without a grasp on words or a familiar breath with which to convey them, Ephraim had very little means of communicating with his pack mates, the gargoyle included. They ended up simply staring across the way at one another, with his posture marginally relaxed from moments earlier. He made a sound in his throat, a sort of low grumble mixed with a soft whine, that seemed to say please leave me be, but it wasn't tinged with maliciousness so much as uncertainty. Mahler's first impression hadn't been good. His second impression was better, but Ephraim was still unsure of where they stood with one another and he had not the means to speak yet, so he took to his feet with flighty steps and began edging back toward the grotto, giving the well-meaning male a wide berth.
RE: Tragedies with penniless fountains - Mahler - June 20, 2018
the child's sound and subsequent movement did not go unaddressed; mahler followed the trajectory of the boy's steps, unsure if he should move a further distance away or keep as he was. though age and size put the man at an advantage, such was mahler's state of being that he too was unaware of nuance in his own society.
he opted to glance away from the retreating pup, not wishing to frighten him any more than he had. and yet there burned in mahler still the seed of anger, that grimnismal should be in the hands of the witch and wylla's shoreline overrun by children not her own.
presently he lay his muzzle across his forepaws, glancing once in the direction the child had gone. his hatred of the changes that had come to the pack was not something easily reconciled with the guilt he now felt; conflicted, mahler remained as he was, pensive.
he opted to glance away from the retreating pup, not wishing to frighten him any more than he had. and yet there burned in mahler still the seed of anger, that grimnismal should be in the hands of the witch and wylla's shoreline overrun by children not her own.
presently he lay his muzzle across his forepaws, glancing once in the direction the child had gone. his hatred of the changes that had come to the pack was not something easily reconciled with the guilt he now felt; conflicted, mahler remained as he was, pensive.