Ravensblood Forest Diligence - Printable Version

She did not yet control this land, but she would let out her calls, warning all who heard, that she sought to control the forest, and it's hauntingly beautiful, bleeding trees. She stalked around the sequoias, lifting her leg to mark; she didn't feel fully secure yet, nervous as she was about the new life that she hoped would take root, but Avery was nearby, should she need him. She had nothing to fear. Violante lifted her chin, and her tail, and set off, beginning what would eventually be their borders.

Strange scents floated with the breeze.

A nearby assembly was forming anew.

This was quick to draw both curiosity and caution.

Newcomers would not always be welcome with tails wags when these new territories were built.

Despite what was known, the shadow continued to carry further on through the topiary. This land was new, so it would be made known, regardless of whether its inhabitants revoked the presence.

Violante had just marked another tree when an unknown scent came her way. Her hackles bristled at first, but she asked herself, if she met strangers with aggression this early on, she would end up making more enemies than friends. She paused, then took a deep breath, before she began seeking out the owner of the unknown scent. Eventually, she saw him dark-pelted, just as she was. Violante called out, "Greetings, stranger. I am seeking to make this place my home. What business do you have here?"

Silence was no longer.

There was not one roaming here, but two.

The last to come had been seen; and, as expected, not welcomed lightly.

Careful eyes studied; scornful, purposeful, diligent.

Zani soja seeks xona. As does odami soja.

Simple words. Plain to be heard.

What more of an explanation was needed?

Violante studied the male, and her muzzle curled slightly as she frowned. "I have never heard those names before. If you wish to search for them, I will accompany you - my mate is laying borders as we speak." That way, she could see him in, and out - it seemed the best course of option, if he were looking for someone within.

A click of the tongue uttered disapproval.

It took moments before the confusion was understood. She did not understand the tongue in which had been spoken.

There is no other. You are zani soja. I am odami soja. Shadow woman; shadow man.

Perhaps now the stranger would know what was meant.

The two shared alike desire.

Violante could not help but smile slightly as the stranger explained what he had meant. "What was the other word?" she questioned curiously. Then, she offered, "I am Violante, and when my claim is finished, I will be Vicera to my pack." A pause, then, "What might I call you?" She wasn't sure about calling him "shadow man", for starters.

A smile in place of former confusion. This was good news.

Expressions on the latter, however, remained stoic and untouched. The shadow did not disregard what was known and taught. This visage would remain as such.

"What was the other word?"

Ah. The other had been forgotten. She did not know.

This woman's lack of knowledge for the spoken tongue was growing to be an inconvenience, though, a change would not be provided. Definitions would continually ensue, if need be.

Xona means home, just as zani soja... Violante... mentioned. There was quickness to correct the mistake. By offering a name, it was clear that is what she was meant to be called — how she had outspokenly requested to be addressed.

Odami soja is called Azarov. Much pleasure is found in meeting future Sodhoza.

It was not expected that she understand this title, but hope was present that its relevance would be known.

Finally, she was beginning to understand - he sought a home, just as she had. At his last words, she bowed her head - better to be humble than haughty. Though there was a difference in their languages, she would not be put off. Calmly, Violante stated, "My pack - Sacrarium - will be a sanctuary for all. If you seek a home, I would be happy to offer one." She nodded to the sprawling forest behind them, inviting him, "Let us walk and talk." She could not say that she knew what she was doing as a leader - at least, not yet. She was striving to change, to let go of her past, and accept her future, and she knew it would all come with time. For now, she hoped her invitation to walk with her would be enough.

Sacrarium. A name to remember, for it may be one lasting to the future.

The invitation to walk was received well and would be accepted. Now the woman understood him, so there should only be ease here-on.

Lumbering closer to fall at the flank, odami soja was prepared to walk. In a moment, hesitance was found. Something had yet to be made clear.

Odami soja must walk slow for convenience. Violante need not mind uneven steps.

Such a grand creature would surely appear odd whilst walking at such a slow pace. This needed to be addressed before the pair continued on so that there was no judgement.

Violante had seen a lot in her life thus far; injuries given by her half-sister, Vex, had maimed and disfigured many a prisoner in her natal pack. And so, she already knew she would not judge Azarov. She looked back at him, adjusting her pace, and she told him firmly, "None will think less of you here." After all, her own mate had three legs, and their only other pledged companion saw and heard things that no one else could.

"Tell me about yourself, Odami soja." She would attempt to use his words, though she did not think her pronunciation was right. "And I will tell you of Sacrarium."

None will think less of you here.

A relief, really. Few would ever be able to admit such, much less swear by it.

Violante had been kind and understanding, thus far. She even made the attempt to accompany familiar words. This bade compliance and trust in return.

Odami soja. The correction was not harsh by any means, syllables rolling smoothly from the tongue; it was a simple lesson that was thought to be deserved. She had tried, after all.

Azarov comes from untold past. Man trained soja hard; left no room for error. Since time, battle and its blood is all that is known.

This was as much as would be offered, unless the woman required specifics. If not, there was really no need for them.

Silence fell, then. Odami soja had answered the query. It was now her turn.

Azarov's past, it seemed, was similar to hers; her father had wanted warriors, strong, and loyal to him and his bloodline. With the prodigal Vex, he had decimated surrounding packs, and their claim grew, unstoppable. Violante had not loved the bloodshed, nor did she enjoy the politics game. So, she told Azarov, "Sacrarium will fight for its land and its people. We will hone our crafts to remain strong, and we value loyalty. But, you say you know of battle - did you enjoy it?" As they walked, Violante would glance to her companion. "We will have many places for warriors - and all others."

Zani soja thought on this information carefully. A piece of what had been shared struck her in a familiar way.

Much about the place called Sacrarium was typical. Most packs and coalitions alike desired strength and loyalty. What would they be without?

Something about this place did seem different, however. There was an unknown pull; something was drawing additional curiosity and interest.

Enjoyment of blood comes only when the purpose is justice. Those who sin receive no mercy.

It was not a general statement, but only one of relation. There would be only honesty in these and future words. If trust were to be mutual, Violante should be aware of how situations were handled.

Warrior.. tracker.. observer.. strategist. All were lessons known well. Many skills atoned to beneficial use. Perhaps this future Sodhoza would find use for this; for the shadow. Maybe then a home would be made for both.

As Azarov spoke of there being justice for wrongdoings, Violante's thoughts turned to Lorelai - just a poor, sick girl who had been in the wrong place, at the wrong time. Vorilye would pay for what he had done, in time. "There is no doubt that my mate, Avery, will have some job for you." To enforce their claim, they would first need to man their borders. "We are only three thus far... but I am expecting whelps this season."

Violante knew that Azarov would be useful to them, but she also wanted them to be useful to Azarov. She said, "I would invite you to stay, and help us lay our claim, but I would ask for what you seek in return."

Whelps, eh? Not something seen often, especially by a wanderer's eye.

Regardless of who was currently present and those who may later be, the offer was of value.

One thing did bring confusion, however. Why was it that zani soja assumed one thing must be given in return of another? Had it not already been proven that they shared a similar goal? Perhaps this wasn't clarified enough.

When claim is made, home is found. If odami soja helps to make this true, a home will be given to us both. All that can be asked for is permanent stay and a promise that abilities be made worthwhile. Wherever the shadow would stay, purpose would be required. If not given a certain amount of responsibility, the many years of life would be laid to waste and all experience would have been for no greater cause.

Violante chuckled lowly under her breath, and at Azarov's words, the soon-to-be Vicera stated, "Your skills will be used here, and you will always find safety within the forest." Violante would turn no one away, not without good reason, and Azarov seemed agreeable enough. "I will take you to our den area, so you might meet the others." She turned towards them, but would be mindful of his pace.

Terms were simple and had been accepted.

From here, a pledge was due.

With a curt bow of the head, words came in a whisper. Man dar in co to marg az oni tu hastam. I am yours, here until death. While it was known she would not understand, the phrase was said first through original tongue. Such a promise was shown honor in this way. Where she would walk, the shadow would follow and shield.

Ready to depart and find the heart of the land, odami soja fell in step behind Violante, taking proper place as the future Sodhoza's follower and guardian.