Bramblepoint does not equal a weak one - 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: Bramblepoint does not equal a weak one (/showthread.php?tid=37692)

does not equal a weak one - RIP Praimfaya - November 24, 2019 the morning is early, the sun just cresting over the horizon — a fact tell tale by the level of greyness that struggles sluggishly to seep through the thick, heavy cloudfall that lays over every territory praimfaya's trudged thru thus far, starting from the fen which stands proudly in the distance at her back all the way to bramblepoint where she now — carefully — makes her way into. her once purposeful, confident pace slows to accommodate both the disorientation she abruptly feels at inability to clearly make our more than a few feet in front of her own nose and the berry bushes still prickly with thorns despite that their limbs are barren of foliage and fruits alike. their barren appearance simply makes them appear more sinister than their deceptive visage of summer. though praimfaya does not have high hopes of stumbling across any herd animals, she keeps a keen eye out for any sign of the rusalkan crone. the crone has not made an appearance since their run-in and the young worlida does not trust this quietness. did it mean, then, that she got isi in her clutches? or has she shifted her fixation elsewhere? either way, praimfaya exudes an air of controlled caution as she continues forth, towards bramblepoint's heart. nanowrimo: 214 RE: does not equal a weak one - Old One - November 24, 2019 This prickly place scarce suits her family, or their purposes, yet they linger nonetheless. She knows they need to keep moving, to find a place of their own to claim, but the thought only reminds her of her lost sister. She'd told herself in the first weeks that Araceli would be back any day now, and this mantra still keeps her panic at bay, though she repeats it to herself with less conviction each day now. Still, she clings to the notion. If Araceli is truly gone, then her own hesitance to lead her family further west has been pointless — and admitting that seems almost as impossible as letting go of her hopes for her sister. It is these thoughts that keep her up throughout the night, first shifting restlessly at @Aldric's side for hours before she'd given up on sleep entirely and, with a brief kiss to her mate's forehead, departed her sleeping family to patrol the rest of the forest. She feels safer this way, at least, knowing her family will not be taken unaware by some unknown assailant in the fog. No matter what @Eastwood might believe, the world is vast and cold and knows nothing of honor, and knowing this she would not put random acts of savagery past her kin. Nor cannibalism, starved as the land is; the thought unsettles her, but it also inspires a hint of bitterness. And Eastwood thinks me the monster. A crunch from somewhere in the forest draws her from her thoughts, and she stills, breath held as she listens. Pawsteps, light but slow, and getting closer, though she cannot make out the source from her position. She knows, at least, that it is a wolf, young and healthy; the scent tells her that much. She takes a single step, letting her breath out carefully, silent as the dull morning shadows around her. Then, deciding she would rather begin this encounter on her own terms, she calls out to the stranger. This forest is even more dreadful while blind, isn't it? She calls amiably into the fog, directing her words toward the other's scent and taking another step forward. RE: does not equal a weak one - Eastwood - November 24, 2019 He, too, hadn't been spending much of his nights sleeping lately. Between his slowly resolving sickness and the tension between him and Nirali, he found that his mind was too heavy with thoughts and his chest still too painful to be able to rest comfortably for any length of time. So long before the sun began to rise, he had started arduously making his way through the fog, attempting to patrol their hopefully temporary claim. Exploring wasn't exactly easy with everything that had been going on, and so he assumed they would be here longer than any of them probably wanted while they figured out where to go next. Not that he would have much say in it, which was mostly his own doing; he wasn't sure what Nirali had told her family, but he couldn't help but wonder if they felt the same way she did. So he had been careful to keep to himself, falling into old habits again. It seemed that whenever things became too confusing or uncomfortable for him, he preferred to avoid it at all costs. Which was why when he caught the leader's scent drifting by with the fog, he moved to try and walk in the opposite direction. But when she spoke, he froze. Not only did it sound like she was talking to someone, but she was also a lot closer than he had originally thought. He scanned the fog and trees, trying his hardest to see through the obstructive haze. And when he realized he wouldn't be able to see much despite his efforts, he lifted his nose in the air and inhaled deeply. The sent of a stranger made him tense, ears flattening briefly as he began to move towards his companion, or where he thought she might be. It turned out his judgment was pretty off. He caught a glimpse of Nirali's dark ears and realized he was too far behind her. He at least had her definite location now, and so he moved forward, coming silently to her side. Disagreement or not, he wouldn't hesitate to offer assistance if she needed it. Regardless of her feelings about his honor, it was still important to him that he do what was right and what he would want if their situation was reversed. RE: does not equal a weak one - RIP Praimfaya - November 26, 2019 the sound of approaching footfalls draws the young worlida's attention, appearing to sound from all around her as the fog plays with praimfaya, distorting her sense of direction and leaving her feeling, more than once, heavy with disorientation. praimfaya's own steps cease then, guard hairs bristling with the trickling rise of uncertainty she feels. she is not a creature easily spooked and in the face of danger the ferocity that had burned so brightly within blodreina burns within her too. even so, praimfaya is woefully aware that she still has much to learn. the voice that calls out to her thru the thick fogfall that blankets the ground is unfamiliar. not the crone. still, not being able to see the one that speaks to her, to judge how close they are nor determine how close the second set of approaching footfalls are leaves praimfaya feeling exposed. i'm sure it's lovely in full bloom, but in the desolation of the famine and coming winter it's true face is revealed to her. but i much prefer the fen that roangeda claims. in this, praimfaya harbors an extreme bias; but of course she does. it is the place her mother picked and though largely home is where her kru are she cannot entirely claim that she doesn't feel an attachment to broken antler fen. it's all she has left of blodreina now. nanowrimo: 234