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+--- Thread: Wheeling Gull Isle Blood of my blood. (/showthread.php?tid=47560)
Blood of my blood. - Titmouse (Ghost) - June 03, 2021
They were too few, the tactician knew that even before @Phox made his appearance. Now they had one more adult among them who could become a useful member of their collective - but even so, it was not enough.
Had they left Niamh to die, her brood along with her, maybe their fortunes would have been different. The dread gods of the blackwood left their lingering curse; would the lives of the children been enough to satiate those invisible wills?
It was too late now.
Now, Mou paced the island beyond where the claim limits sat. Whatever served as their claim was waning too thin, and his effort to hunt for his family took up all his time. There was none left for maintenance; that job belonged now to Aiolos alone.
With a huff Mou stalked among the expanding tide pools at the rocky shore line, watching the dark shape of his brother move in the distance. His thoughts were many-layered, and he thought soon they might drown him.
RE: Blood of my blood. - Draggonfly - June 09, 2021
The song of the sea, salt, water and oceans; it was enticing and alluring like a siren beckoning him to come. To swim against the hasty tide, to surf on the endless staggering waves and to roll in the sand -- making sand angels -- at the end of summer-like afternoon.
But as with much in life, there were no endless adventures filled with love and laughter, memories to be made and to slowly fade. Instead life as a loner was filled with pangs of hunger, scurrying around 'dead meat' in search of left-overs and walking across the waters in the hopes it would one day taste less salty.
Or, maybe ..just for once his fish skills would begin to improve.
The scent of the wind brought along other treasures that stirred his curiosity from within. In the distance the faint contours of another wolf across Wheeling Gull Isle began to appear. It could be dangerous, it could be fun, it could be both. Either way, Dragonfly was about to find out the whereabouts of this other wolf -- especially because the wind already betrayed each other of their presence.
RE: Blood of my blood. - Titmouse (Ghost) - June 15, 2021
It came as a surprise to Mou, when a foreign scent came to his nose. It was just as much due to the strong saltspray of the ocean (which often covered up the more desirous smells around Yuelong) and his focus on his distant brother; but when he caught it his attention shifted.
The fact of the matter was, Yuelong could not stand. They did not have the bodies to keep control of the island, and this fact was what caused Mou to hold back on his own response to the stranger. He wanted very much to chase them off, but equally so to make a good impression and fold them in among the island wolves — even if they were set to leave the island soon.
In the end he would do neither. His body drew across the hillside until his paws met sand, his tall, angular body an odd sight against the gray-blue of the rolling tide. It was here that he noticed the pale shape of the stranger as well as the wet path behind them, pock-marks in the sand where their paws had tread - now filling with brine.
He boofed a greeting but held his position there, watching them.
RE: Blood of my blood. - Draggonfly - June 16, 2021
There were faint scents here of wolves traveling on Wheeling Gull Isle. Some scents had been weeks old while others had been fresh. However many of the older and fainter scents were slowly fading away as if nobody had walked upon the island before. This information took time to process in his mind and for a second there he wondered if a pack or close-knit group of wolves had ever called this place a home. His heart suddenly began to beat faster at the thought and the prospect of a pack; however despite his enthusiasm slowly the realization dawned to him that now it was abandoned besides a seasoned-traveler who dared to visit.
And a visit wasn't for the faint of heart of those who only wanted to walk on land without challenging the sea. After all, there was flood and tide to take into consideration when visiting an isle and even then there were dangers of drowning. The other wolf who greeted him, remained at a respectable distance. Dragonfly did the same, his movements skidded to a halt. He returned the greeting with a respectable nod of the head. For a moment he listened to the waves stirring violently against the Isle's shorelines and coast. "Hello I'm Dragonfly." The white wanderer introduced himself. "Do you know if a pack used to live here? I've smelled some old lingering scents that are slowly fading away."