Wheeling Gull Isle friction! - Printable Version

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Inland, rainstorms were no big deal. When you had the auspicious, awning branches of the hardwoods shielding you from the elements, it was almost as if nothing could touch you, not rain nor sleet nor snow. Even in the open plains, the crankiest of days were, well… relatively mild. Nowhere else had Komodo seen storms of the caliber that he saw on the coast — more specifically, upon Wheeling Gull Isle.

It was because the gods spoke, here. They had many things to say, here. The gods said it all here, like they said it nowhere else.

The Angakkuq knew it probably had something to do with the warm air currents steadily pulsing from the south, driving tempestuous clouds along the coast, skirting and bouncing against the mainland’s spine of mountains and towering ridges. He knew it probably also had something to do with the cold waters that trickled down from the northern sea, creating a clash of temperatures that took on titanic proportions, with thunder that rolled for many miles and lightning that cracked to illuminated a ghostly infinity. However, more than all of this, Komodo knew was at fault for that night’s chaotic thunderstorm. The Vedmak had wrought this squalor upon his seawolves because the gods wished to punish him and chastise him, as would parents to an unruly child. The mottle brute had slighted an innocent, Coelacanth, and his divinities wished for him to understand how much they were truly displeased.

The roan man stood at the mouth of the labyrinth, shielded from the worst of the gales. It was a noisy rain, with fat raindrops that hit heavily against the saturated earth. It fell fast; fell sideways, and made a fine mist that wetted his thick pelage. Perhaps all the other wolves of Undersea were asleep, blind and deaf to the uproar going on right outside their den’s door — @Reigi with cubs at her belly, and Seelie with cubs surely growing in her own — and Komodo wished them a good rest. He alone must stand penance for his wrongdoings. So, turning his thickset maw to point down to the earth in order to brace his delicate eyes and nose, Komodo pushed out and into the aphotic downpour.

He wanted to feel the rain.

lmao reigi fuckin' WISHED she was asleep

^ don't actually put that in your post

The black-masked woman knew nothing of warm air currents or divine punishment; she knew only that the ground shook with the force of the heavens.

She had left the children with Coelacanth so that she might begin to lactate and she could go visit her own babies back in Bearclaw Valley, blisfully unaware of the wicked firebrand that had claimed them as her own. The earth den had begun to make her anxious. Often, she awoke from nightmares in which the Redleaf sisters came and killed her babies — all of them — Nunataq, Marten, Fern, Mur. Maegi, even though she looked old enough to protect herself. It felt too much like the Valley.

Many things had settled her fears. Starshine and her gentle, welcoming demeanor. Undersea did not feel plagued by the intense, ritualistic dominance rites that she had experienced and it was likely due to the inkdog and how she ruled. Being able to recruit Rokig had made her feel useful. But she was still plagued with the feeling that she wasn't enough. That she wouldn't be enough for anyone — ever — and even if she miraculously found someone like herself, she would ruin it. Congratulations on your reatarded children.

She sullied Undersea with her negativity, so she made herself useful instead. She marked the borders religiously, filled the caches where she could, and tried to make sure every newcomer was looked after; everything she had done in Bearclaw (although it seemed that her Islander packmates certainly appreciated it more).

This evening she had braved the waters. She had not found the confidence to even get her toes wet, but she had found a small collection of seashells that she had intended on bringing back to the children. But the sky began to grow dark faster than the night could have possibly fallen, and her limbs began to shake. She had always been afraid of thunderstorms.

She fled inland as it began to pour and the dark expanse of night was made darker by the clouds — no stars were kind enough to light her way. Openly she shivered and cried, her ears slicked back as she slunk across the landscape. As soon as she saw Komodo she made a pathetic approach, her stomach tucked to the ground as she whimpered mindlessly at his feet, trying to tuck her face between his forepaws.

The rain combed through his pelt as if they wreathe gods’ fingers. At first he felt the water come to rest against the warmth of his skin, then coalesced in the crevices of his ears and the ridge of his withers, and then slid to the ground beneath him — but there were many to raindrops to count, and they soon all blended together to blanket him in wetness and wash away his sins. The angaqquk let his simmering gaze fall shut, and mind fall silent.

He only returned to a state of awareness when he felt the presence of another; and it was someone with a bizarre state of energy, not unlike the storm itself. Immediately he was brought to attention, not too surprised that the maelstrom had brought about the worst out in the island’s inhabitants and their fortunes. He expected to see something akin to the visions of the hurricane, all that time ago — but it was only the silent one, and she seemed scared.

The frenetic hoyden approached him boldly and made to shield herself with his frame. He allowed this to happen for a moment, tightened his stance so that it resembled stone — but then remembered that there was the mouth of the cavern right behind them, and with in it, all the creature comforts in the world. For once, Komodo allowed him to place his piety on the back burner. He turned back towards his home and drew up a forelimb to cosset her back into the arid safety of the caves.