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+--- Thread: Blacktail Deer Plateau hollow (/showthread.php?tid=53525)
hollow - The Listener - December 04, 2022
her children were gone. this, the listener had come to accept in the time since she had seen @Ingram. she had searched, for a time.
now she returned to her husband. she lingered at the border, waiting. he would feel her presence. he always did.
RE: hollow - RIP Ash Star - December 04, 2022
It wasn't often that Ash Paw traveled near the borders. She let that to Ingram, and Deathbringer, not herself. Though on this day she headed that way, on her travels to put springs of winter berries again on the sacred placements of their gods. Though a wolf nearby caught her attention.
She chuffed at the female and moved calico body boldly forward. The other was not across the borders, but she was near them. Quiet, watchful. She unnerved Ash Paw a bit, though outwardly she tried not to let it show.
Hello what brings you to Basilica?
I can delete if you'd like.
RE: hollow - Ingram - December 05, 2022
it is almost prophetic in the way he had just been thinking of her, consulting his threadbones and there she was upon the borders. of his home. of their home. he spares ash paw a glimpse but his seaglass gaze is steady upon, consumed by his nightwife.
this is my nightwife, ash paw,ingram tells his mage.
the listener.trikova. he finishes the introduction, sparing ash paw a second glance before his gaze slides back to the listener. perhaps, he thinks, ash paw might understand why the seer, an unknown entity in truth and of similar image to his trikova, perturbs him as she does.
to the listener, ingram croons,
welcome home.
RE: hollow - The Listener - December 05, 2022
a stranger greeted her. a blue-eyed imp in varicolor, a daywalker with one paw in the world of night. like all daywalkers, she showed a proclivity for mundane questions. the listener regarded her with cool indifference.
"my husband."
as if summoned by these words, ingram appeared.
did he know? did he sense something missing in her?
was that shame she felt, to hear her title fall from his lips so easily?
"no," the skyrock burned, back on her beloved islands. "no, call me... almalexia."
at the blackwater islands, she was the listener. among her own chosen followers, she was eternal; their prophet. but here?
here, she was the dreadfather's wife. she was a stranger in unfamiliar lands. and without her skyrock, she was...
fading
withering
dyingchanging. only changing. for him, as he had changed for her.
her eyes were only for him now.
"i suspect you have questions."
RE: hollow - RIP Ash Star - December 05, 2022
She was answered, though it was clear she was not wanted nor needed. If the woman's gaze was anything to go by. A small wrinkle of her nose, a sniff of irritation. Then she grew quiet. Ingram was near and Ash stared at both of them for a brief moment, before she averted her eyes.
His mate, his nightwife. Ash knew well the longing he had for her, could hear it when he spoke. Though this she wolf, was not much to look at, she didn't seem, but that was neither here nor there, though she briefly wondered at his taste.
Though she supposed beauty was only skin deep. The girl and she was a girl, looked sickly. Ash dipped her head.
Hello Almalexia. I'll take my leave.
Ash Paw turned away from the two, a strange irritation burning deep within her gullet. She didn't like that this she wolf had shown up. Not because she had designs on the dreadfather, but because she questioned his judgement when it came to the nightwife, this Almalexia.
A woman barely out of girlhood, who called to him so soundly. He was obsessed and obsession caused issues, and Ash Paw was not entirely fond of possibly losing her home, because of a slip of a girl who demanded things.
Though she could argue that she was being overly cautious and unfair. And she disgusted herself a little.
RE: hollow - Ingram - December 07, 2022
no longer the listener.
almalexia.
ash paw greets and then immediately following states she will take her leave. ingram makes no move to stop her. there is no threat here and this, as with all reunions with his nightwife, ingram desires privacy. so that he might learn what she has learned without having to explain to a third party.
still, he is not unaware of the tension he feels ash paw taking with her as she goes, the soft edge of something biting. it reminds him, almost, of his first meeting with ash paw and is a reminder that though they are friends now they weren't always so.
too easy, it is for him to forget that ash paw is not soft edges.
many.ingram rumbles, as he turns back to his nightwife, beckoning for her to draw nearer.
RE: hollow - The Listener - December 14, 2022
i am changing,she said quietly, watching the daywalker as she left.
almalexia.
woman; wife; daughter of merrick the bear-witch, merrick the mad.
you were meant to be her heir, whispered by the silver-tipped west wind.
but i was yours. yours, your night-pearl, your blood and madness and hunger given flesh,
why did he come to her now? perhaps it was the shadow of his cursed mountain, that hot breath at her neck. or was it the shadow of the life she had traded for the whispers of spirits and the touch of divinity, only to fall to the blade of her own pride?
she had always fashioned weapons from every feeling. born to war against no one and nothing; everyone and everything. pride always cut deepest and last; her final lesson from merrick.
and she brushed divinity, walking that dark path set before her. regret could not taint that.
but she had fallen; she had failed. her god had withdrawn from her.
but not from ingram. her husband shimmered with his dark blessing; empowered, somehow, in the wake of her fall from grace. and some part of her, some ugly fanged part with eyes gleaming green, hated him for it.
but she loved him. love as she had never felt it before. it was a festering weakness in her. it was the will of her god.
her eyes found his, so like the rolling sea. not her black waters, no — brighter, purer than that. a beacon to light the way.
for you. for basilica. for our future,almalexia went on, stepping closer to ingram as if to embrace him.
i visited sapphique. the wolves on the cliffs. i brought word of basilica.
and i left the skyrock behind. on my — the islands.
it burned. but it was for him.
RE: hollow - Ingram - December 16, 2022
ingram regards her with quiet contemplation, allowing her words of change to linger in the air between them. it does not make him love her any less, does not lessen the burn of the fire that burns only for her. she is and was and always would be his nightwife, the true root of is desire regardless of what name she took or who she ended up being.
change was invetible. it was needed.
regardless of who you are changing into: i will still love you.
he doesn't feel like it needed to be said but he offers the words anyway.
we should speak about what rank tier you'd like to join. you should not stay in druid when you have already done for basilica.
RE: hollow - The Listener - January 01, 2023
in the face of her metamorphosis, he was quiet. he spoke of love and home. it was clear now; this was the only path forward. there was no place in the mortal world for a wolf who spoke only of spirits and death.
there was no place for the listener.
she sought her husband's touch, as she had so many times before. yet it was different. subdued. soft. feeling.
she was aware, for the first time, of her own fragility. it would not be the last.
these druids are yours, ingram. i am yours. the decision is yours,a ghost of a murmur on the wind, spoken close to his ear.
no other knows me as you do; none will. you know my place here.
it was only left for him to speak it.
RE: hollow - Ingram - January 01, 2023
he is to choose.
ingram regards her with a small, thoughtful tilt of his head. the answer bubbles into his throat, warming his chest. it does not require thought for he thinks for her it is perfect. for her, it was crafted.
then you shall be oracle,he bears the title upon her head like a crown.
and when you are ready, the nightmother.it was skipping a tier, yes, but that rank had been crafted for her specifically and it was her's when — or if ever — she was ready for it.