+- 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: Duck Lake a mote will turn the balance (/showthread.php?tid=28368)
a mote will turn the balance - Witchhazel - July 12, 2018
the girl waited still, a statue, sensing the growing brightness as gradually the sun sunk. she perched amongst the trailing aspens, their fronds whispering in the hushed breeze as it stirred her short-cropped summer mantle. she'd found this place a few days prior, made her home in a long-abandoned fox den and waited, patiently, each night to occur what had the night before.
it came swiftly and suddenly, and the lake was set afire. light blazed into her optics, white fire that she held near-painfully in her gaze. for a moment, two, and then it was fading. she dropped to her stomach, quickly, eyelids pulled closed over her scarred eyelids. darkness worked best, she'd learned, and quickly enough did vivid colour bloom behind her eyelids. mind latched onto colours and shapes, vaguely painful pressure mounting yet worth the spectacle.
and then flashed a burning image, rugged, sharp, she knew instinctively it to be a mountain range. the colours faded, far quicker than they had the last couple nights, and the girl was made still. she crouched, carefully, the last remnants of colour and movement reducing her vision to almost nothing. a moment of vivid colour for a minute of darkness.
RE: a mote will turn the balance - Killian - July 14, 2018
With the dying sunlight, Alessia had found shelter for the two of them to rest in for the night, and though Killian wasn't quite ready to turn in just yet, his dark furred companion was adamant about staying put and refused to move from her spot with the oncoming approach of darkness. So, opting to leave her be, off the Gallagher went, to go walk out his remaining energy alone. Lips smacking, tongue lolling, and dark bronze pelt still radiating with the sun's heat, he fancied himself a drink and maybe a little sunset swim, so as to cool himself off and finally feel the smooth roll of water on his back yet again... but when he sauntered up to the lake he and his companion had left not too long ago, he was surprised to find another already at its banks, piquing his curiosity and drawing his attention.
He approached quietly and slowly, not wanting to disturb... whatever they were doing. It wasn't drinking, whatever it was, for their cream-colored head wasn't bowed to the lake's surface. They appeared to just be... standing there, staring out at the water. Killian halted a few wolf-lengths away, tilting his head. Lost in thought, perhaps? Looking for something (or someone) on the other side, maybe?
Then, suddenly, right as the sun had dipped to such a position so that the lake's still waters reflected bright, sparkling white back into the observer's eye (Killian had to squint and turn his head to the side a bit so he could continue watching), the wolf suddenly dropped to the ground and laid still as a statue on their stomach, head placed delicately on paws. The movement was so quick and sudden, one might think their legs had fallen out from under them, or that some invisible hands had reached out from the earth and pulled this pale-furred stranger right down to its dirt-laden breast.
Lake light fading and the figure unmoving, Killian cautiously continued his approach until he stood to their right, a comfortable cushion of space between them. He didn't know this wolf, didn't know if they (possibly she, as he could now see the gentle touches of femininity on her soft features) were mad and might lunge up to attack him if he stood too close. Maybe she was praying, he thought...? Her eyes did appear to be closed.
Staring at her still and now growing a little bit amused by the strangers oddness, he gently addressed her with a lopsided, toothy grin. "Y'all righ', mate? 'Fraid tha' lake monster's gonna come out an' eat'cha?"
He was joking, of course... mostly. Lime eyes briefly flitted to the navy waters, staring curiously into their depths. Who knows, maybe there was something down there, he privately mused before looking back to her.
He approached quietly and slowly, not wanting to disturb... whatever they were doing. It wasn't drinking, whatever it was, for their cream-colored head wasn't bowed to the lake's surface. They appeared to just be... standing there, staring out at the water. Killian halted a few wolf-lengths away, tilting his head. Lost in thought, perhaps? Looking for something (or someone) on the other side, maybe?
Then, suddenly, right as the sun had dipped to such a position so that the lake's still waters reflected bright, sparkling white back into the observer's eye (Killian had to squint and turn his head to the side a bit so he could continue watching), the wolf suddenly dropped to the ground and laid still as a statue on their stomach, head placed delicately on paws. The movement was so quick and sudden, one might think their legs had fallen out from under them, or that some invisible hands had reached out from the earth and pulled this pale-furred stranger right down to its dirt-laden breast.
Lake light fading and the figure unmoving, Killian cautiously continued his approach until he stood to their right, a comfortable cushion of space between them. He didn't know this wolf, didn't know if they (possibly she, as he could now see the gentle touches of femininity on her soft features) were mad and might lunge up to attack him if he stood too close. Maybe she was praying, he thought...? Her eyes did appear to be closed.
Staring at her still and now growing a little bit amused by the strangers oddness, he gently addressed her with a lopsided, toothy grin. "Y'all righ', mate? 'Fraid tha' lake monster's gonna come out an' eat'cha?"
He was joking, of course... mostly. Lime eyes briefly flitted to the navy waters, staring curiously into their depths. Who knows, maybe there was something down there, he privately mused before looking back to her.
RE: a mote will turn the balance - Witchhazel - July 15, 2018
vision began to leech in around the edges of the swirling shapes, bits of light and shadow and the blurred edges of near shapes. she blinked her gaze closed once more, the darkness a balm to the fading ache, the shapes that had lost definition and meaning. she noticed the dull crackle of paws on burnt grasses, and fear fluttered weakly in her heart a moment. yet she remained still, showing no sign of her recognition of the stranger's presence, drawing tight of the threads of courage until they encased her.
her gaze pulled open only when the stranger spoke, revealing behind scarred lids gaze that once, should fortune have favoured her all those nights ago by the sea, may have been sharply beautiful. instead, a patchwork of clouded scarring covered once clear optics, and when her gaze slid upward to find the stranger in her view, it paused somewhere near the stranger's shoulder.
"there are not any monsters in this lake." voice came soft, drifting, as she carefully propped herself back up, head tilting as she tried to better make out the stranger before her. she'd been unable to tell by voice alone the gender of the stranger, and their scent was muddled and unclear. blurred shapes, made indecipherable by the still lingering patches of colour, had her draw no conclusions from the stranger's form, besides the vague knowledge that they were a canid.
"what are you?" not who, rarely who, for she'd learned that other could wear any face they wished in her blindness. soft, again, voice lilting like the breeze which came again to brush more of the stranger's vague scent against her nostrils. agitation prickled her hackles, drawing tight once more the threads of courage and not allowing herself to slip back into thoughts of monsters and spirits who, too, sought to disguise themselves.
RE: a mote will turn the balance - Killian - July 22, 2018
Surprise briefly flickered across the lad's face, his eyes just faintly widening and the smirk vanishing into a slack-jawed gape upon seeing patchy, jagged scarring, not on the girl's face, but in her crystalline eyes, appearing like twin crystal balls that had been dropped and severely cracked. Or, at least, he assumed them to be scars... surely one couldn't be... born that way? What on earth would cause such a deformity? Hell, what on earth would cause such scarring? His heart prickled sympathetically and his face involuntarily winced at the rough wounds, acting as a very sharp contrast to her otherwise soft and gentle features, but when her damaged gaze vaguely flitted to his shoulder and her maw parted to speak, he cast the pitying feelings aside at once and turned his own gaze, intense and shadowed by furrowed brow, to her chin, forcing himself to focus on anything else. From the way she didn't look quite at him and the clear injury to her pupils, he didn't think it wrong to assume she might be blind (or at least heavily impaired), but could not know for certain and didn't want to get off on wrong foot by staring.
"There are not any monsters in this lake." Her voice was a soft as everything else about her, carrying soothing, lilting tones that almost sounded distant and otherworldly, which only added to the strangeness of her appearance... and the intrigue, the latter of which he felt more strongly. With this, his grin slowly sliding back onto his face, he entertained the thought of her not being a wolf, but a ghostly wraith of the lake, perhaps killed by whatever happened to her eyes and thus haunting this area from sunset 'til sunrise. Of course, he knew she was real, could tell by her scent and the shear solidity of her figure... but it was always nice to toy with silly superstitions. Ghost stories were some of the lad's favorite, after all.
"Know tha' for certain?" he lightly teased with rhetoric, then perked his ears to her question, which eased his grin into more of a laid-back smile. It was an odd question, asking "what" instead of "who", but for a girl passing as a boy whom mostly seemed masculine, but still carried hints of femininity here and there, he couldn't blame others for being confused, especially if her sight was impaired as well, and considering this was a girl asking and not a man (of whom he felt more compelled to keep his secret), he didn't feel alarmed at her prying.
Of course, that didn't mean he'd give a straight answer.
"Jus' a curious stranger." He paused, thinking for a second. "Though if i's a name ya want, ya can call me Killian."
There. Now he'd answered what and who. With the girl now standing, he proceeded to look her up and down, even moving around her some to aid with this inspection. He was curious as to whether or not she had other scars.
"And wot of you?" The boy returned to his previous position, proceeding to sit and cock his head, grin returning. "Seems to me ya could either be a wolf or a ghost." These last words were heavily laden with playful sarcasm, making it apparent he was not serious and perhaps only saying this so as to poke fun at her asking "what" he was.
"There are not any monsters in this lake." Her voice was a soft as everything else about her, carrying soothing, lilting tones that almost sounded distant and otherworldly, which only added to the strangeness of her appearance... and the intrigue, the latter of which he felt more strongly. With this, his grin slowly sliding back onto his face, he entertained the thought of her not being a wolf, but a ghostly wraith of the lake, perhaps killed by whatever happened to her eyes and thus haunting this area from sunset 'til sunrise. Of course, he knew she was real, could tell by her scent and the shear solidity of her figure... but it was always nice to toy with silly superstitions. Ghost stories were some of the lad's favorite, after all.
"Know tha' for certain?" he lightly teased with rhetoric, then perked his ears to her question, which eased his grin into more of a laid-back smile. It was an odd question, asking "what" instead of "who", but for a girl passing as a boy whom mostly seemed masculine, but still carried hints of femininity here and there, he couldn't blame others for being confused, especially if her sight was impaired as well, and considering this was a girl asking and not a man (of whom he felt more compelled to keep his secret), he didn't feel alarmed at her prying.
Of course, that didn't mean he'd give a straight answer.
"Jus' a curious stranger." He paused, thinking for a second. "Though if i's a name ya want, ya can call me Killian."
There. Now he'd answered what and who. With the girl now standing, he proceeded to look her up and down, even moving around her some to aid with this inspection. He was curious as to whether or not she had other scars.
"And wot of you?" The boy returned to his previous position, proceeding to sit and cock his head, grin returning. "Seems to me ya could either be a wolf or a ghost." These last words were heavily laden with playful sarcasm, making it apparent he was not serious and perhaps only saying this so as to poke fun at her asking "what" he was.