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Ravensblood Forest sea legs - Printable Version

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sea legs - RIP Atlas - August 29, 2014

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In good time the group reached the forest, and it was here they chose to rest once more. While the Nereides were creatures of the sea - and he too, in part, connected to it as well - Atlas felt quite at ease beneath the boughs. It was a reminder of his origins. Even though they were difficult to recall, aspects of the forest were bringing vague memories back to him.

The scent of the trees, for one. A lack of salt in the air. The trembling leaves, with hues that were just beginning to shift.

He inhaled a deliberately slow breath, and set out: the women would be hungry, and while they often detested dining on foreign meat, he would have to find something to satiate their hunger. It was his duty, and that outshone any sentimentality that Atlas may have felt.

But he was curious of this forest. There were not very many wolfish smells, at least nothing fresh enough to hint at a collective within the shadows. If he was the one in control of their travels - but no, Atlas refused to let that thought fester beyond the barest beginnings of fantasy. Because I am not in control.

And really, he was fine with that.




RE: sea legs - Thistle Cloud - August 30, 2014

Thistle had been out of the inner most sanctum of the bay more and more as time progressed. She was far too restless to stay, she often found herself near the forest all over again. Ravens blood was a bitter sweet place to her. It was where she had first met Crete, where she had let Ragnar have her, where she had conceived her children, and where she had become a Viking. It made her sad now to look at it, but also happy and it was a confusing mix of feelings for the femme.

Thistle walked among the boughs happily breathing in the moist air that only leaves, and plants and moist dirt could give off. There was bark on the trees. She smelled different wolves coming and going, but still no one had settled here and she briefly wondered at it. Perhaps it was just a way station for the few. She continued on, oblivious to the fact that another wolf was nearby. Not realizing that there were a number of wolves nearby, so lost in her own thoughts as it were.

She briefly wished she would have brought her son with her, granted she wasn’t even supposed to leave the pack lands. But as of late they were suffocating her, so much expected of her, so much for her to give, and she got barely anything back. For once she just wanted…she just wanted her own solitude however brief it could be.


RE: sea legs - RIP Atlas - August 30, 2014

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The interest he held in the forest would have to be put in the back of his mind. He had a job to do, and little time to do it - or so he often told himself, in order to avoid making the women wait too long. Atlas could smell various things, but as his nose was attuned to the brine of the ocean and its inhabitants, he was at a loss for where to go.

The musk of fox was prevalent in some areas; the scurrying of mice could be heard in others as they parted like a tide in the underbrush; a faraway squirrel chirped a warning to the passing wolf, as if by will alone it could keep its youngsters safe. Atlas moseyed, but he did it with a purpose. Every snapping branch or shift of the wind had him alert and looking for another path.

But he did not see a target to hunt. Instead, his two-toned eyes caught sight of an earthen wolf wandering on their own. He was hesitant to approach at first, but eventually his path mingled with that of the stranger's; when close enough, Atlas noticed the manner in which they walked, the feminine scent, and then saw the flash of blue held in the woman's gaze; he was instantly at ease.

Γεια σας εκεί! He called out - using the tongue that came naturally to him, with the assumption that all women would understand it. This was a lesson he ought to learn sooner than later: the entire purpose of the Nereides being in this area of the wilds was to redirect the heathens on to the proper path, to return them to Mother Moon. Thus not all of them would understand the language of the sea. But Atlas was thrilled to have company, so he forgot all of that and picked up his pace. Είναι αυτό το δάσος σας?




RE: sea legs - Thistle Cloud - August 31, 2014

No matter how many times Thistle visited the forest, its inhabitants and its secrets always left her breathless. It was a thing of beauty and she loved it. In the quiet she walked, her blue eyes gazing towards the heavens, catching glimpses of the wildlife that scurried through the trees. There were a cacophony of calls from those that dwelled therein and a small smile graced her lips.

Thistle froze when another voice reached her ears and she tilted her head to the side, blue eyes alighting on the wolf that called out to her. He was a muscle bound wolf with brown fur and black guard hairs. All of this she noticed with a glimpse, but it was the language that rolled off his tongue that she didn't understand. She stood still for a moment unsure whether or not to answer him in english or norse, perhaps it was a form of Norse that she didn't know. Realizing most knew the common tongue, she began there.

Canting her head to the side, she offered a small smile, hoping if he didn't understand at least he would know she was friendly. Hello I'm sorry I don't understand you sir. I'm Thistle Cloud. She grew quiet and waited then for him to answer her or not.


RE: sea legs - RIP Atlas - September 02, 2014

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She heard him, of that he was sure. There was a flicker to her eyes and ears which indicated understanding - just not the understanding he wanted. She smiled a cautious smile and introduced herself in one breath, Hello. I'm sorry I don't understand you sir. I'm Thistle Cloud. There was an accent to her words, a curious twisting quality and lilt that made him think, surely you are one of us! but the sound was more foreign to him than the common tongue that fell from her lips.

A small bow was granted in her direction, and he cast his eyes to her paws in humble veneration; for she was a woman, and even if she was a heathen to the ways of the sisters, she was innately better than him. Pardon me, he murmured at her, thoroughly apologetic. He wanted to step around her and continue scrutinizing the trees, but his training curbed that desire. I only asked if this was your forest, miss. It is beautiful.

It had not occurred to him that his own introduction would be pertinent. It was not the way of things in the cove among the sirens, after all.




RE: sea legs - Thistle Cloud - September 03, 2014

Thistle had never noticed if she had an accent or not. She did however notice it in others, her husband being the most prominent. This wolf was a bit like her husband accent wise. She grew quiet as he looked at her and then looked down. She wondered at that.

She was momentarily taken back and extremely surprised when he bowed towards her. Sure she was technically a queen, but she was not used to such a show of respect. It unnerved her a little bit to be completely honest, she was rather uncomfortable with it, not being used to it.

She gave him a smile at his apology, No apology necessary. She perked her ears forward to try and listen to his questions. She shook her head Oh no it is not mine, this is Ravensblood Forest, it belongs to no one, though there are many Ravens throughout it. She grew quiet then.


RE: sea legs - RIP Atlas - September 04, 2014

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Ravensblood Forest. It had a curious ring to it... And settled in to his mind as a tidbit of information to bring back to the priestess. How odd that it was not controlled by a pack - it was beautiful, and with the oncoming autumn, it would surely become even more enigmatic a location. Atlas' gaze slipped away from the woman and began to trail along the color-changing boughs above his head, but he kept an ear out for anything she might say.

And speak she did. Her voice was light, and she sounded a little overwhelmed. But why? She was a woman - they, by their very design, deserved more respect than any man. The ensuing quiet may have felt strange to any other wandering wolf, but Atlas was accustomed to the silence of the adepts; it was rare for him to have a conversation with them without the pretext of his station.

A curious name. The consort finally muttered as he turned his two-toned gaze towards her once more. His gaze slipped to the ground at her paws, unwilling to go against his training even if she was a stranger - or a heathen. If this is not your kingdom, where do you come from?




RE: sea legs - Thistle Cloud - September 05, 2014

Thistle recalled the time that Ragnar had wanted to claim this land. It had been a fire within his breast, but it was not to be. As the isle pack had taken up too close of residence. However, they had found a gem in the rough, and it was beautiful their Stavanger Bay.

Thistle was overwhelmed it was true, and she was not used to the etiquette and poise this male offered to her. Growing up, males had not overruled her, but they had been the stronger gender always and perhaps that was wrong or bias of her or her family, to give her this worldview. But there it was, as strange as it may seem.. It was an interesting dynamic, were she to find out the other's beliefs.

She chuckled yes it is a curious name, but it is home to many ravens, so. I live in the Stavanger Bay, it is run by myself and my husband Ragnar. Where do you hail from sir?


RE: sea legs - RIP Atlas - September 05, 2014

Stavanger Bay. An interesting name as well, and far more familiar. His initial reaction to the foreign wolf - of speaking the language of the sea - was not far off the mark. Thistle and her fellow pack mates were heathens, but perhaps they were not so far gone that the Matriarch and the sirens could correct the mistakes of their misguided ancestors.

Where do you hail from, sir?
Ah, the question brought Themiscrya to the forefront of his mind.
By the sea, much like your bay. A place far from here. The coastal pack had many secrets, and Atlas was still unsure of the kind of information he should allow a foreigner access to. So he kept his answer short and vague. I have come to these wilds with many others, and we hope to settle somewhere in the next few weeks. Yes, that was a pleasant enough answer. Enough secrecy to keep the Nereides safe while they figured things out, and hopefully enough information to satiate the woman.


RE: sea legs - Thistle Cloud - September 06, 2014

She would have been sure to fix any misconception about her pack if she had known. It was just her husband and herself and their children that were Vikings. No one else was as far as she knew, they respected the culture, and the gods, but as far as she knew they did not follow them. And they were not heathens, they made a living by what they got, and unfortunately her husband had been born and given a harsh homeland, so of course he was a bit rougher around the edges and harsher too.

Thistle listened and smiled I was not born here, I was from near the sea as well, I came here just months ago. She grew quiet then offering a small tidbit of information since he was nice enough to answer her. She listened to him and then frowned, but only in thought. that is all fine, but I will tell you we are very territorial and though I may be friendly here in the wilds on neutral land. Please remember I won’t be if you accidentally cross our borders. My husband may even kill those that do, so please tell your members that. Not that you would cross borders, but sometimes it is done accidentally.


RE: sea legs - RIP Atlas - September 06, 2014

As the woman spoke, Atlas listened intently. His gaze never raised to her eyes or anywhere near her face, out of respect for her. And as Thistle outlined her husband's hostility, the boy only nodded. That is understandable. I believe we are headed farther north, so there will be no need to worry, he hesitated after speaking and wondered if his statement was appropriate - was it giving too much away? Would it put the sisters in danger? - but he moved on in the next breath. I will inform my superiors of your location, and make sure they understand. As his words faded, Atlas gave a small nod of appreciation for the warning.

Ah, I had best be off then. Atlas admitted after a lengthy pause, and turned away from the rufus girl; he caught sight of something moving in the trees and directed a brief expression of alertness towards the object, but then as a flock of dark birds drifted between the trees above them, he relaxed. The boy gave Thistle one last look and a smile. It was nice meeting you, Thistle. Maybe I will encounter you again in the future. But unless the bay wolves chose to head north themselves, he doubted he'd have such an opportunity. The Nereides were always very careful about secluding themselves.


RE: sea legs - Thistle Cloud - September 07, 2014

Thistle dipped her muzzle still a little confused with his display of respect, when they were not anywhere near any borders, or even in any claimed territory. She however kept those thoughts to herself. Thank you. was all she said.

Thistle dipped her muzzle Perhaps you will or one of my children. We are always combing the beaches and I go further for herbs so you may. Good bye now. She turned and walked away the way she had come. She did not even know of the man's name, but she supposed it was his right to keep it quiet. Just as it was her's to share her name. She shook her head, a little confused by this strange meeting, but he had been pleasant company for the time being, and that was fine with her.


RE: sea legs - RIP Atlas - September 09, 2014

Exit Atlas, weeoo.

Her words were met with a swift, humble nod. When she turned to depart, Atlas did not move a muscle; he watched as she drifted between the trees, and then vanished in to the murk of the forest's shadows. When he was alone again, the boy peered around at the glorious trees and took a deep breath - he felt so at ease here, it was a wonder to him that the beach would be his home. But he did not dwell on possibilities for long. With a sudden energy flooding his body, Atlas took to wandering once more between the trees - inevitably heading towards the coast.