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Dragoncrest Cliffs & waves don't make a sailor of me, - Printable Version

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& waves don't make a sailor of me, - Andraste - January 06, 2019

@Artaax! <3 sorry for taking so long ahh
Setting The cliffs / shores, late afternoon
Time Few days pre-war
She leapt not to kill, but to study. To learn. However, as the next winter-bird flurried into the skies, the frosted sands whirled about the brana who landed just out of reach. The vëa may have found some peace today, and for that, she held envy for it; it had all mannerism and pretense to acquire what it needed; it could rage or calm when it wished. All of this, of its own accord and especially not out of politeness for the whims of others.

In a way, the sea was also like a mother, she was coming to learn. A mother who threw briney tantrums. A mother who could birth, could give, could feed the children of its shores—and just easily take it back.

Heavens... if only it were the same with the winged. A bit more than winded, Aure’s breath stuttered as she languidly cast herself back into the sands, pillowed along the fronds smattered among the ridges and rises. Neck bared to the morning, her eyes fluttered closed with a soft grumble.

She’d try again. Later.



RE: & waves don't make a sailor of me, - Artaax - January 08, 2019

Artaax was weary still that day, but things like that rarely stopped him from his work. With the return of their unwelcome neighbors, the young lion had doubled his effort to keep their borders protected and their end of the beach secure. It was more often than not very boring work, which was unfortunate considering how eager he was for a distraction from his wandering thoughts. Still, it was necessary work, and Artaax was nothing if not a dutiful soldier.

He did not immediately recognize the other wolf on his shores as a packmate when he first spotted her. His hackles rose and his frown deepened as he stalked towards her. He watched her attempt to catch a bird and felt indignation rising in his chest - a feeling that didn't entirely dissipate even after he caught her scent on the wind and learned that she was his packmate and not a trespasser. If anything, it only deepened his aggravation. First off, he didn't like strangers even when they were amongst his ranks. Second, he hated seeing a hunt fail where he would've succeeded.

The feisripa stalked towards her. He took in a breath as he moved and adjusted his expression to its usual emptiness just as he fixed his gaze upon her. It was well in place by the time he had closed the distance between them, though his eyes were slightly more narrowed than usual. "If you don't know how to catch it, then leave them for those who do," he said, his voice deep and soft and tinged only slightly with annoyance.


RE: & waves don't make a sailor of me, - Andraste - January 08, 2019

Her own voice came languidly, tinged with a foreignness and undoubtedly vexed, ”Then teach me, dearest kru, so I may ascend to be as unparalleled as they.” With that, the pale she-wolf’s head snapped up, wringing sand and salt from her snowy ruff before fixing the feispera with a bemused gaze. Lashes narrowed just as his own had, but the soft, cheeky curl of her lips said otherwise; the red hurts that spiderwebbed along her façade said otherwise still.

Feathering her tail along draped hinds, she leaned forward in admiration—both parts mocking and genuine. ”You are champion at this, are you not?” Slim brows lifted imploringly, mouth parting in a little ’o’ of intrigue as her gaze bored brassily into the cornflower-topaz of the creamed one. 

Her attitude, the suddenness of it all, was usually jarring to most who didn’t know her, much less meet her. If it had to be explained with the male before her, it was less of a challenge, and more of a plea for tutelage. ...Of course, to him, to others, it may have seemed the other way around entirely. In the meantime, the hare of a she-wolf watched him expectantly, utterly impish—to bite at her with words, or a bird.



RE: & waves don't make a sailor of me, - Artaax - January 11, 2019

Artaax peered at the strange white wolf through slightly narrowed eyes, which narrowed further once he heard her response. Had she really just called him kru? It was actually fortunate that she had said that, as otherwise he would've realized that the rest of her comment was utter nonsense and then he would've been irritated with that instead. So maybe fortunate is the wrong word. I don't know - is it fortunate when all eventualities equate to the same result?

She questioned him then on his hunting prowess, and Artaax found himself even more insulted than ever. He had no real right to be; she didn't know him any better than he knew her. But he was feisripa and the pack's most accomplished hunter. She should've known who he was while he had no obligation to reciprocate. He gazed silently at her for a few seconds before he responded with a single word, "Yes."


RE: & waves don't make a sailor of me, - Andraste - January 12, 2019

again bc i can't love this enough 8’) also my writing here is weird sry

As it was, Aure didn’t have the slightest inkling who she spoke to—his rank, his name, none of it. Plainly put, her regarding of him had been on sprightly basis alone. So when he affirmed it for her, her eyes widened incrementally, her slim brows curving in gullibility.

”Really?” It was with a sudden calm and quiet that she leaned back, taking the image of the male before her more carefully. Her pale eyes roamed, favoring the thickset and lean of him; but her speculation was anything but inviting, more-so curious and considering.

Bringing her gaze back up to him, she inquired, ”Would it be terrible of me to ask you to teach me? Something as easy as pup’s play,” adding, lip curling, elvish, ”unless you’d rather peck my eyes out instead?”

The kru most certainly get nowhere with mere, unreciprocated banter, so she instead tried, ”I meant it, though. Not ze pecking, huh, but ze teaching. What if birds are all there are to hunt one day, and exemplary catchers such as yourself have been low and few?”



RE: & waves don't make a sailor of me, - Artaax - January 13, 2019

Artaax was not at all surprised by her immediately acceptance of his boast. I mean, what he'd said was completely true, so why would she not believe him, I mean hello. He didn't bother nodding to confirm again for her - he just fixed her with an expression that bridged on bored. He didn't completely follow every word she said as she continued, but something in it sounded like flattery, and so his expression softened into what might've been called mild interest but honestly just looked slightly less irritated.

He considered her request in silence for a few seconds (few = 45), weighing it out in his mind. On one hand, he did like to show off his talent and intelligence. But on the other, he didn't like dealing with strangers. Plus, from what he'd seen and heard so far, she was going to be terrible at this. He looked away down the beach where the gulls had begun to gather once again and contemplated his decision for another few seconds (few = 68) before finally, he returned his gaze to her and said, "Try again." He gestured down the beach with his muzzle at the flock and dropped to his haunches for the show.