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+--- Thread: Heron Lake Plateau The fire in my eyes is leaving (/showthread.php?tid=28406)
The fire in my eyes is leaving - RIP Niamh - July 14, 2018
When dawn broke, Niamh stretched luxuriously, rolling over and into the warm, solid side of Colt, and buried her face into his fur for just a bit longer. Nights had become her favourite time of day- as she could return to the little copse of trees that protected their sleeping place and snuggle into his side. During the day, her step was light, and she moved as though carried on a sort of dream, knowing that at the end of the day, she could return to his side.
Eventually, she would pull herself from her slumber, place a kiss on his muzzle and move out to perform a patrol, as she did almost every morning. As she walked away, she wasn't without some sort of hesitance; she wasn't entirely sure, just yet, what the details of their relationship were- or if it could even be called that. And though it was nice, whatever it was, the lack of defining boundaries gave her a bit of hesitation. But until those became a problem, she had no quarrels.
The dew still hung on the long, green blades of grass along the borders as she roved, particularly interested in the Northern boundaries where other wolves could actually access their pack. No new or exciting scents presented themselves- so she simply reinforced the ones which had been left the day before or overnight, ensuring that the pack would have less to worry about if others were respectful of them.
RE: The fire in my eyes is leaving - Blondine - July 17, 2018
Dawn brought an eery peace to the land that Blondine admired whenever she had the chance. Normally, she would find herself alone as the sun rose, but there were the occasional visits from other packmates; today, it happened to be one who she hadn't yet become acquainted with. Lifting herself up onto achy joints and sore paws, Blondine winced before calling out with a soft boof.
Howdy, she greeted, smiling as she slowly approached.
RE: The fire in my eyes is leaving - RIP Niamh - July 25, 2018
As per usual, the beginning of her border patrol was fairly routine, and without interruption. Wolves tended to frequent the Thicket to the North, but with their borders so well marked, they seemed to avoid having a trespassing problem. Niamh knew she wasn’t the only one making sure they stayed safe- the pack had a team of reliable guardians who were proactive in their patrols, keeping the pack safer than ever.
So she wasn’t surprised to be approached by another packmate, and bobbed her head in a friendly greeting to the newcomer who had joined alongside Caiaphas. ”Marnin,’” She greeted. ”Blondie, right?” She asked, but with a tinge of doubt in her voice- something didn’t sound 100% right about that name- but she was sure it was something along those lines.
RE: The fire in my eyes is leaving - Blondine - July 25, 2018
Falling in sync with Niamh's steps, Blondine laughed and sighed,
That'll do.She thought that it was cute, the little name that she'd been given, but it did worry her to think that it might blossom if not corrected. Oh, well. Not like she'd be around for that anyway.
Patrolling, I see. Never was my cup of tea, I must admit.
Thoughts of the time before becoming a caregiver drifted into Blondine's mind, striking up a lukewarm smile. What a fool she was to think that she'd ever make it as a hardass.
RE: The fire in my eyes is leaving - RIP Niamh - August 05, 2018
That'll do? Was Blondie not her name? Niamh came quite close to asking what the russet female's name actually was, given the fact that she didn't want to be caught fudging her packmate's name should she be asked by someone else. But, instead, she decided to roll with it- she could just go on, and pretend it was a nickname. Maybe that was why Blondine had accepted her version of her name anyway- maybe she liked the thought of having a nickname that was actually kind of cute. Such a nickname would probably suit Niamh better, out of the two of them- but she wasn't about to start calling Blondine by the name of Anne of Green Gables (Niamh wouldn't know what a gable was anyway), or Ginger, or anything like that.
She was surprised when the female admitted- again with her unusual but relaxing, alluring kind of drawl- that patrolling wasn't her thing. "Nah? It's one of my favourites," She said, but she made sure to sound lightly surprised, not disapointed. "What would you say is your thing?" She asked, then.