Wolf RPG
The Tangle masked in blood and bathed in fire - Printable Version

+- 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: The Tangle masked in blood and bathed in fire (/showthread.php?tid=27254)



masked in blood and bathed in fire - Vilkas - May 17, 2018

*squints at map* This takes place somewhere in the corner of The Tangle that flirts with Ankyra Sound. @Caiaphas

vilkas's expedition west is cut short as he realizes that he is cornered in by the north-west and south-west by the packs that inhabit the territories that touch those corners of the tangle — not that vilkas knows the name of the unpleasant territory he stalks through. if the whitemane was of a superstitious mind he might have been unsettled by the warped, bony, witch-like trees that stand legion throughout the territory. this revolution forces him to re-route himself and head south. all the while he strives to avoid the spiny brush, rocks and sharp drops that threaten to make his life difficult or otherwise prove to be dangerous that might more or less end in his untimely demise. he's not overly thrilled by the idea of backtracking and his annoyance is aimed largely towards himself for it. he should have turned around the second he realized what kind of territory he would be trekking through — and it hadn't taken him long to figure it out. yet, he hadn't and now he suffered for his hubris.

vilkas's salmon pink tongue lashes in a quick, swipe across his jowls as he reminds himself to keep plenty of distance between himself and the border that hugs the south-west corner of the territory he stalks through with a gait that conveys his inner annoyance. he thinks he is almost free of the the tangle — only to realize as he crosses his own path that instead he'd looped around in a giant circle. his upper lip curls back and in a rise of body heat from his building irritation ( at himself ) he lashes out at the nearest witch tree, claws slicing through the warped bark that curls and gives without much resistance against the force of his swipe. likely, it was already crumbling with decay but regardless he feels better and as quick as his rage built it is soothes and he is calm once more, turning his seaweed gaze away from the path he'd taken to find a new path. the detour he took had not been apart of his plan ( because he did not want to admit that he's lost ) but left vilkas with the hope that he would succeed now that he knew which ways to avoid going; and that hopefully, he would soon find himself free of the tangle.



RE: masked in blood and bathed in fire - Caiaphas - May 17, 2018

caiaphas was no stranger to the mean cut of land that slanted away from ankyra sound: the brambles, equally as mean as the thorns they sported, were a natural barricade that conveniently sat atop the most vulnerable flank of the sound. it was rare she approached this miserable plot of squalid land -- it rarely needed reinforcement, what with its bitterly impossible egress, and it also had very little game to speak of.

she had only come out here in an effort to stretch her lax and atrophying muscles -- childbirth had exacted its toll on the thin wisp of a woman, who was already too sharp and full of angles to be comfortably pleasing to any eye. her morning routine of conditioning her weakened body was interrupted by the sound of thrashing litter, and the strange noise of something abrasive being drawn rapidly and furiously across a dry surface.

already near ballistic in terms of mood, caiaphas immediately fell upon the source -- a stalwart and vigorously carved male that for a moment, she nearly thought was aella's ghost come to haunt her. she froze, a stern expression glinting in her hardened eyes as she watched the male's russet backside. instinctively her tail was held at a callously high angle, and she looked at him in a way that suggested she expected some sort of answer for the reason he had caused a ruckus and betrayed his location moments prior.


RE: masked in blood and bathed in fire - Vilkas - May 18, 2018

vilkas's temperament is mercurial at best — it comes with the territory of being hot-tempered — and while it burns hot beneath his rust and copper pelage when he's angry it hardly ever lingers long, especially if given the chance to vent it out as he had moments prior. by the time he is aware of approaching footfalls vilkas has already moved on from it and has just begun to take a few steps towards the new path he was going to take to ( hopefully ) see himself out of the tangle. he does not move any further, though, as the steps stop and he knows that whomever had come was behind him. the wispy hairs at his nape bristle freely with his unease of having his back turned on a stranger.

vilkas turns and assess her with a quick sweep of his gaze, noting that her tail is raised over her back and her expression demands explanation. no doubt, she'd heard him. the sound of bark tearing away from the witch tree had not been quiet. especially not in the eerie silence that blankets the tangle. her scent, wafting his way in the nearly non-existent breeze tells him that she is from the pack whose territory hugs the corner of the tangle he has gotten lost in. while he is surprised to see another living creature in the tangle he supposes that she is from the nearest pack should not necessarily begot surprise within him.

vilkas's gaze slips from her to touch upon his handiwork before it slides back to her, debating for a moment longer on how honest he wanted to be. did he want to tell her he lost control of his temper? despite that the evidence more or less speaks for itself. did he want to have to swallow hubris and admit that he's lost? not necessarily; but that's likely pretty evident as well. he shifts his weight ever-so-slightly, careful to hold his posture to a neutral one that communicates he doesn't mean her harm. "i got a little turned around trying to find my way out." vilkas begins, figuring that given the situation honestly might be the best policy despite how bitter his pride tasted. "i got a little annoyed." he glimpses briefly at the damage he has done to the witch tree. it looks worse than it is, if only because the tree is partially dead to begin with.

"i'm not looking to cause trouble." he promises; and that was the truth.



RE: masked in blood and bathed in fire - Caiaphas - May 19, 2018

the wretch's gaze followed vilkas' -- towards the rough-hewn score left by the jagged bite of furious claws. her tail settled, and she assessed him with the cold yellow of her virulent eyes. his posture and tone both appeared nonbelligerent, and she could not detect the suspecting riff of drageda from his pelt. nevertheless, this did not appear to make her look at him anymore favorably -- if anything, other than the slight slackening of her posture, her aspect was still feral and intense.

the words the firebrand of a male imparted, however, did placate some sort of suspicion in the female -- most men were brash, and not to be trusted. to admit so freely one's resolve to not raise hell was somehow new to her. the wicked thinness of her lips seemed to purse and she glanced back to the clawed tree noncommittally. "good. grimnismal does not tolerate trouble. the exit, which i assume is what you are looking for, is over there." she canted her thin muzzle towards a subtly laid path that bowed out between the briars away from them.

despite her station, caiaphas had never been incredibly loquacious -- as her speech fell, a silence settled lightly around them.


RE: masked in blood and bathed in fire - Vilkas - May 20, 2018

vilkas watches as her posture slackens a bit but she remains, understandably, feral and intense. under different circumstances he would have, too. as it was, vilkas understands his predicament. he's lost in an unpleasant territory with little prey and blocked in to the north-west and south-west by the two packs that border said unpleasant territory and seriously outnumbered. grimnismal, is what she calls the southern pack. this leaves the mysterious pack more to the north still unnamed but vilkas does not ponder long on it or it's wolves. they're of no real concern to him. she gestures to a path that she claims is an exit and his gaze follows, seaweed colored eyes giving the gestured to path a quick once over as his ears cup forth, attentive and then slick back to rest at half mast atop his skull but he makes no moves towards the path she points out. there is something briefly humiliating about admitting you were lost and then finding out that the path to the supposed exit was literally right under your nose the whole time.

beyond that, vilkas could not help but be a bit suspicious of how easy it was. admit to his current short-comings and have his exit pointed out to him just like that? the nord is not the kind to think that anything is every offered so freely. "why're you helping me?" he asks. presumably, it could be because she wanted him away from grimnismal territory, he supposes; were the tables reversed he would want any potential squatters ( whether they were lost or not lost at all ) away from the neutral territory close to his pack's claim. "grimnismal, huh?" he tests the name out and makes the first step towards the exit she had pointed out. "i like the name." he remarks simply, taking another small step in the direction of the exit path, all the while watching her to ensure that she wasn't trying to pull one over on him because he didn't trust anyone blindly except for his siblings, naturally.



RE: masked in blood and bathed in fire - Caiaphas - May 21, 2018

despite her distance from the sound's hearth, caiaphas seemed comfortable -- as if her wretchedness was uniquely suited for the quite wretched and dolorous plains that were the infinite tangle. her sullen gaze followed the male's -- to the neatly hidden area she had motioned towards moments prior. certainly, she did not think less of the male simply because navigational prowess was not his forte -- the tangle had claimed many better than her, and would continue to do so well after her corpse sunk into the earth.

when the golden agouti asked after the reasoning for her aid, caiaphas smiled -- it was a smile without warmth, and seemed to seep around her thin face like cold plaster. "not helping." she admitted, a thin wrist motioning towards the trail. "it's purely a selfish interest. you find your way out, i don't have to worry about you being too close to grimnismal." she was woefully transparent in this, though she did not mention her whelps -- which were the driving force for her being willing to see him off. unbeknowst to her, the very thought had already occurred to the copper and grey clad male.

her smile had faded since, but that unsettling coldness remained -- even despite the compliment vilkas offered. "it's a nicer name than pack." she answered, somewhat flippant -- though she watched him intently to see if he would take his leave or question her further.


RE: masked in blood and bathed in fire - Vilkas - May 26, 2018

his assumption — that she is not helping but seeking to ward him off from her borders — is proven correct when she says much of the same thing. he appreciated the honesty and could hardly fault her for it when he knew and had mentally admitted previously that he'd have done the same thing. helping may not have not have been the intention but in the end, though, it did help him and the nord could not let that go unpaid. though vilkas did not err to the dramatic it occurs to him that he could have gotten lost indefinitely within the tangle and perished from starvation — for while that does sound overly dramatic he'd already proven he wasn't adept at navigating the witch trees and there was, as pre-established, a distinct lack of prey scents.

vilkas didn't notice when her cold smile had vanished, only that it had with a sweep of his seaweed green gaze as she remarks that 'grimnismal' is a nicer name than 'pack'. "'pack' isn't that bad of a name," he counters with a slight curl of his lips into a what would be a smirk would it have been full-blown. "it's simple. easy to remember." the firebrand is partially joking, without being very sure as to why. she'd already offered him his out and yet he still hasn't taken it. instead of making for the exit, the mercurial whitemane lingers to make stupid jests ( something he is not overly talented at, mind ).

he shifts his weight then and his partial smirk morphs into a more serious expression. he's switched gears easily back to what he contemplated earlier: the debt he feels he owes. "selfish as your reasons for showing me the exit may be i owe you a debt of gratitude nevertheless." vilkas informs her.



RE: masked in blood and bathed in fire - Caiaphas - June 02, 2018

a joke.

caiaphas' muzzle remained unchanged, as if the joke had fallen flat. and then, like a shy sun peering beyond spent rainclouds, her features gradually changed. a slow lift of her brow, the quiet assembly of a smile -- fleeting as it was, it was there, and she gave a flick of a tail as if in appreciation of the joke.

in truth, she would just as soon call grimnismal 'pack' -- and little did she know, in a few days' time, it would be a pack no longer.

he mentioned a debt; caiaphas' gaze flickered. darkly, caiaphas wondered how often it was that wolves repaid their debts. in her experience, very rarely -- she thought of saltwinter, of ankyra in its' origins -- so many lives had been harbored in the sound, and so many lives went on without gratitude for her hand in the shape of their lives. it was a bitter thought and she swallowed it quickly.

"big words. prove them sometime later." she replied, motioning with her muzzle to the path. how little faith the siren queen had -- it must have been quite plain, even to a stranger like vilkas. yet she did not offer anything else; instead, she watched him warily, picking her way southeast.


RE: masked in blood and bathed in fire - Vilkas - June 03, 2018

she appears to accept his debt and gestures for him to be on his way. like that, the conversation is over and it is time for vilkas to leave. he does not particularly wish to linger in the confounding tangle any longer than necessary now that is companion begins to take her leave and he heads in the opposite direction taking the path she's pointed out to him. it is easy to find his way now that he knows he's heading in the right direction and soon enough he steps out of the tangle's perimeter. he glances back over his shoulder before he moves south, hoping that the next territory does not cause him as much grief as the last just did.