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Frostfire Ridge its colors stolen from - Printable Version

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its colors stolen from - RIP Wintersbane - September 17, 2020

short & vague about ...a lot of things; but oof i really wanna get this boy to 1000 posts

the morning sun cut a golden glow to the world, chilled with the freeze of dew from the night before. the temperatures drop and swell like the rising of the tide; predictable for this season of the year, wintersbane knows. still, he can’t say he enjoys the drastic changes in weather. fall was a fickle season; the cusp between summer and winter, a war of the two extremes. old man winter, as he always did, would be victorious. wintersbane, though, is not cold. luckily, his thick, plush pelage was made for colder temperatures and thus, the tundrian trudges along the forest that cloaks the eastern side of the ridge.


RE: its colors stolen from - Pendragon - September 17, 2020

It was only a matter of time before the budding naturalist discovered every nook and cranny of her home. Now that that mission was complete, she found the mountain to be quite boring. She needed something new to study, and she wouldn’t find that here. So, with her favorite rock equipped, she headed out on a new adventure.

Marble covered a lot of ground in a few days, and had seen a few objects of interest in that time, but none could compare to what she’d fine that morning.

Giant.

She watched him from the shadows. Wherever he went, she followed close behind.


RE: its colors stolen from - RIP Wintersbane - September 19, 2020

it takes wintersbane a bit to notice that he’s being followed. at first, he mistakes the light sound of footfalls to be of some woodland creature who’s path he crossed that remained downwind of him. yet, it persists. he moves and so does the footfalls; rustling underbrush. eventually, the smell of sagtannet; familiar as it is to him, drifts upwind and tickles his nose. they are …pretty far from the peak that wylla and mahler have claimed and for a while he entertains his ghosting shadow.

until, his curiosity wins out. in the thick emerald underbrush of the ridge he cannot make out a shape, yet, but he knows they’re there. i know you’ve been following me. he calls, wondering who in sagtannet would care to follow the ex-eisen. it struck the tundrian as awfully boring to follow a man with no purpose. you can come out. i won’t bite.


RE: its colors stolen from - Pendragon - September 20, 2020

She went unnoticed for quite some time. It’s no surprise to her; if she was skilled at anything else it’d be stealth.

Perhaps she misstepped, or the sunlight hit her at just the right angle, but eventually the giant figured out he was not alone. She was addressed by him, but his eyes still wandered. Marble wondered if it’s be better to stay put. She paused, put her head down, and contemplated. A decision was made soon after. This giant peaked her curiosity, and he promised he wouldn’t bite.

The girl pushed her way through the plants, blinked the light from her eyes, and stared up at his face.


RE: its colors stolen from - RIP Wintersbane - September 21, 2020

the child that steps out of the underbrush is pale as moonlight and young. wintersbane isn’t real good with determining ages but he’d be willing to bet she wasn’t even at her five month mark yet. too young to be wandering around without a guardian, smelling strongly of sagtannet in a way that’s incredibly ironic to wintersbane. fate was having her fun with him; cloying and toying around him with a deviousness that would make the devil proud. soon, the wilds might have to start calling him the puppy wrangler.

you’re far from home, yeah, little one? he rasps the inquiry, lowering himself to his haunches as he regards her, realizing that he was more than likely going to have to escort her back home. he would ..if only because he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to her even on the chance that she could find her way back home. i’m wintersbane. who’re you?


RE: its colors stolen from - RIP Star - September 28, 2020

hooe you don't mind me hopping in, thought this would be easier to tie since marble is ppc'd : )
 

Star was far from a helicopter mom. Her children had free roam within Sagtannet's borders, and often she trusted them and their packmates enough to let them wander. But past the borders was where she drew the line, and thus when she had stumbled upon her daughter's trail outward, the cloud was inclined to follow. 

Her daughter had traveled some days, perhaps. She was a small girl though, and her mother an experienced warrior in spite of her old age. All in all tracking had still taken a day or two, but she moved faster, and soon enough caught up. The sight of Marble beside a huge, dark male caused the fur along Star's spine to raise defensively. She picked up speed, wind blowing through her mane, and skittered to a rough halt beside Marble, likely shocking her daughter as she moved in front of her to whirl on the stranger- 

Melkor. Wintersbane. 

All the fire burning in the old woman was quieted, as her hackles fell and recognition entered her dark gaze. Her stance shifted to something less aggressive as she glanced back towards her kin, and then to the man again. This is my daughter, Marble. Her memory was too shaky to recall if the once-eisen had gone missing before or after she became pregnant. You've been gone a while. Are you coming home? Star questioned with a slight cant of her head. She was not one to beat around the bush; what had happened to whisk him away was irrelevant to her.


RE: its colors stolen from - RIP Wintersbane - September 30, 2020

i don't mind at all! thanks for joining!

before the child can answer, a familiar pale figure appears on the scene. wintersbane recognizes the matron from northstar vale, likely the only one that had remained during and after the merger. she introduces the girl as marble, stating that she is her daughter. wintersbane offers a firm nod, murmuring star, in acknowledgement. a familiar theme is beginning to revolve around wintersbane and, accordingly, the continued sting of wylla’s barbing rejection. home was not something wintersbane had anymore, and he isn’t sure how to dance around the fact that it wasn’t for his own lack of trying.

he wasn’t trying to give wylla potential problems with her subordinates …but he wasn’t about lie for her, either.

a soft clear of the tundrian’s throat is given carried upon the word no. i was informed that sagtannet no longer needs me. he tells her with a casual shrug of his shoulders. so i’m left to my own devices.


RE: its colors stolen from - RIP Star - October 14, 2020

The ex-eisen greets her politely, informing her that he had not been welcomed back into Sagtannet. Star wondered only briefly who would deny him, but thought of Wylla's temper upon learning Star was pregnant- and though the snowy matron had only see a tiny sliver of how full of attitude the eisen could be, it seemed a lot more likely she would tell Melkor away than the stable Mahler. She frowned, ducked her head in a slightly apologetic acknowledgement of his situation. That's unfortunate. She offered rather awkwardly, not exactly the comforting type. Any idea where you might head next? Star tilted her head. Wintersbane was no friend, but he was an acquaintance of sorts- and she hoped the young man might find a steady home again. After all, the matron valued loyalty above all else- what was life without stability?