Fairspell Meadow If there’s a wrong road, I’m damn sure gonna take it

wow edited but still aw!  I completely read my other thread wrong XD oops

When he decided to contemplate where he would go next, the tawny Blackthorn stuck near the area, choosing the Mesa as a temporary holding until he determined if it was worth it to even attempt to join the same pack his sister now resided in.  He was sure she would be extremely unhappy if he did, which meant the asshole in him wanted to make it happen, and he'd liked Peregrine okay when he'd spoken with him.  Doubtless they'd count themselves lucky to get a catch like him  among their number.  But did he really want to deal with what that would entail?  Maybe.

The asshole in him probably deserved what happened next, too.  Sticking around wasn't his greatest plan ever.

Not being any sort of naturalist, Colt's only warning that the sky was about to tear apart were signs he took as preceding a normal storm.  What followed was one of the most terrifying, exhilarating moments of his life, an experience he knew he would be hard pressed to top.  When the first winds whipped around, he'd taken shelter to the side of the Mesa overlooking a meadow, watching as the clouds shifted in crazed patterns overhead and pressing towards the ground as the wind began to pick up even moreso.

Never had the wolf seen a tornado before, and when the funnel appeared to begin it's destruction of the meadow, spawning tendrils of whirling wind alongside it, he was paralyzed by fear for the first time in his life.  Still, a small part of him reveled in the power... A part that shut up when he felt himself being pulled in the twister's direction.  The trees near him were being similarly affected, pulling dangerously sideways, and the world tilted similarly as he was pulled from the ground, heart threatening to burst from his chest with the knowledge he was probably gonna die here.  Killed by fuckin wind.

What a way to go, though totally not a sentiment that crossed his mind as he was flying like a frickin deranged turkey through the air, limbs flailing vainly for anything to grab onto.

It was fortunate for him that the tornado decided at that instant the Mesa would be spared, disappating before it reached the stone's range.  As the wind suddenly dropped, so did Colt, landing heavily amongst the other flying debris at the edge of the meadow.  Senseless and completely unaware how lucky he'd just gotten, though he'd probably chock it up to Mother Nature finding him too pretty to kill off once he woke.

Using the ravens and crows as NPCs

Her initial plan to return back to Blackfeather after the storm was scratched out the moment she saw the giant, dark funnel of wind dancing towards the Mesa from a small cavern in the Mesa's side. The crows and ravens went silent, huddled together (but separated in their respective factions), watching the storm just as she did. They must have known who she was, for both groups let her sit nearby them as the tornado slowly fizzled away, its destruction complete...at least in this area. The corvids were still quiet, occasionally quorking softly in their own tongues, but the eerie silence held, until she heard the debris fall.

The Blackfeather Princess turned her single-eyed gaze to the meadow, marveling and what had been torn up and discarded almost carelessly. Curiosity took over, urging her to rise and walk towards the edge of the meadow where it touched the Mesa.

Potema sniffed around the debris, wishing that the tornado threw down something for her, and the corvids, to eat before she made the attempt of going back to Blackfeather. The girl paused, seeing the familiar form of a wolf lying on the ground. He must have been sucked up by the funnel and cast down when it disappeared. Sucks to be him then. The girl sniffed the wolf, not recognizing his smell (though it might have been messed up by the wind), then blinking as she saw the rise and fall of his chest.

A handful of the black birds followed her lead, circling low in the air. A few landed nearby and one was even bold enough to hop forward to try to peck the wolf. "He isn't dead." She warned them away, wondering if they understood what she said. Only a small elite group of crows and ravens could speak the wolf tongue, from what her Mother said. There might be a chance that they could understand, at least. "But I don't know him, so I guess you could eat him if you want."

He was dreaming of raiding a particularly promising hive when, out of the blue, one of the buggers stung him.  Wait, what?  Starting awake, he opened his eyes to find not a crew of pissed off honeybees, but a bunch of birds... and a wolf?  Where'd the bees go?

Closing his eyes, he pawed at the birds nearest his face, still not connecting it was a peck from them that had woken him but not liking their proximity regardless.  His entire side ached where he'd landed, and the debris that had been cast around him had left him ragged and scraped, but he'd been lucky.  Aside from heavy bruising and some shallow cuts, he had no injuries to speak of.

His eyes sprang open again when he remembered how the hell he'd gotten here, and he focused on the wierd wolf with her... were they pets?  What kind of wolf kept pet birds around?  Nope, not important.  "Did you see that?!"  He asked, wincing as he struggled to roll off his bruised side.  "Holy shit, please tell me you saw that??!"  Was it a dream?  No, it couldn't have been.

He'd fucking flown.  And suddenly, this was absolutely paramount.  Not the fact he could have died, or the idea that the entire sky had turned against him and attempted to flatten him to a pulp.  Nope.  For a few shining, terrifying, and completely graceless moments, he'd defied every law of gravity.  100% worth it.

The peck from one of the birds woke the wolf, dark gold eyes opening, glazed but quickly clearing with awareness. One of the birds, which assumed was a raven from its size, landed on her back. Disturbed by the sudden weight, she turned her head around, blinking curiously at the raven. It blinked back, with one eye, like Potema. While the resemblance was interesting, she had a wolf to talk to.

"I certainly heard it, if that's any consolation." Her blind eye was in the direction of the falling wolf. Her good eye had been plastered firmly onto the tornado, watching its path, praying to Mephala and Sithis and the other Daedric Princes that it did not head north. Her ears had picked up the sound of the debris falling as the tornado disappeared, but her eye did not see them be dropped by the meadow. "I'm guessing that you're not hurt." At the most he might have a few bruises, but broken ribs did not look likely. Then again, she could be wrong.

It really wasn't a consolation, but Colt quickly dismissed his disappointment.  It wasn't like it mattered if she'd witnesses it... he'd felt it.  And suddenly, he wanted nothing more then to feel it again.  It wasn't possible, of course, but he'd be damned if he wasn't going to at least try.  Once he, y'know, regained his breath from this time.

"I don't think so.  Take more than that to take me down." now that the fear was gone and only exhilaration lay in it's place, he embraced the fact he'd just lived through something crazy and let the reasoning rest fully on his own amazing survivability.

Finally, he turned to look at his discoverer.... And his ears snapped back with surprise.  "Holy shit, what happened to your face?  I mean, no offense.." He stared at her eye, then quirkeed a smile.  "But I bet that has a pretty badass story behind it."

It seemed natural for anyone to ask her what happened to her eye. Curiosity was not limited to cats, after all. But she was tired of just saying "I don't know, I can't remember". This wolf wanted a badass story, didn't he? There would be no harm in telling a little white lie like Charon did every once and awhile.

"This raven attacked me when I was walking past her territory when I was younger." She gestured towards the one-eyed raven with its head. She assumed it was female; her mother had mentioned something about the leader of the ravens (and one of the largest) was female. It could very well be her. "I guess she was trying to eat me. She scratched my eye and blinded me, but I tore out her eye when I fought back." The raven clacked her beak in quick succession, bobbing her head as she did so. Potema wondered if that was what raven laughter sounded like.

"I guess I did something to impress them. They've been following me around ever since." She looked around to the gathered birds, noticing how more and more of them had gathered, probably in the hopes that a meal would be nearby, or just out of curiosity. It was almost ominous in a way, to see so many harbingers of death in one place.

He'd expected something a bit more impressive than a raven given the injury, but he still winced in sympathy.  It had left an awesome scar, and while Colt was a shallow creature most days, such marks told of a life well lived. Or an unfortunate accident. But still.

"Alpha crow, eh? That's interesting." He wouldn't have guessed they had a structure like that of a pack, not having given ravens much thought before. They just kinda... were. He wouldn't want the creatures mobbing around him all the time, but he could see where they could prove handy. Eye stealing aside.

"All the time, though, wow.". He wouldn't even want that kind of attention from one of his own kind. "Couldn't you tell them to get lost, if they listen to you?" Not taking into account the fact that she might enjoy their company and completely skipping over the issue of language barriers.

"Not all the time. They have lives too, y'know." The birds still circled around the two wolves, though most strayed off, looking for more interesting and helpful things to do. The ones who did stay were big and intimidating — for birds that is.

"I think they know what we're saying, but they don't always listen to me." She kind of wished she had birds under her control, much like what the wolf suggested. "I'm just suggesting things to them. They still listen to her." Again, she gestured to the big one-eyed raven. The bird in question gave a soft quork, which could mean a multitude of things in bird-speak. However, it did confirm that she had some idea of what they were talking about. "So are you from a pack, then?"

"Of course."  Silly me, not assuming that, he thought skeptically, suddenly wondering if this girl had all of her marbles.  Not that he would judge her too harshly for being a little nuts.  Some of his favorite individuals had their own places off the deep end.

The one eyed bird was unnerving, and the way it responded made him twitchy. He'd never been a huge fan of ravens. Pulling his eyes away from the bird, he gladly addressed the girl's question. She had to be a little loony to let the birds use her like a perch like that. "No pack. Got my standards, and so far, no one's met them." He cocked his head. "You got one?" A whole pack of bird witches maybe? Creepy thought. Maybe they all even had one eye like her, some sort of rite of passage. They couldn't be normal, could they? He had never heard of a normal pack with such a relationship to birds.

A loner. She had met with one before and had liked him. The wolf was kind and gentlemanly, for someone with no loyalties but to oneself. There was an appeal in being a loner to the young girl: no responsibilities, no pack duties to attend to everyday, no watching the borders jealously. She could practice any kind of herblore or magic she wanted, run where she wanted without having a home to come back to. Potema had to admit that she liked being away from her family, disastrous conditions otherwise.

Remember your duties... A voice hissed, quivering with anger and contempt. Remember that you are too young to be on your own. Remember that you still have much to learn. She had to concur with the voice, once again. Her mother had things that she had not yet revealed to the girl, especially now that she was away. She could stick around until she became a full member of the Dark Brotherhood. Then, she could go out and explore.

"Blackfeather Woods. It's north of here." The forest was a black smear in the north, clearly identifiable to her and the wolf. But Potema strayed away from thoughts of home, though it still rested on the back of her mind. "What's being a loner like?"

North of here.  Great.  Likely he'd not go anywhere near it, especially if there were more of her feathered friends hanging about.  He wondered for a second if they guarded the borders too, the thought unnerving him.  Best leave that alone, yes?  His next thought was if crows made for good eating... maybe not the best thought while getting a stare-down from a crow whisperer but whatever.

"Lonely," he said offhandedly, the first thing that sprang into his mind.  Then he shook his head.  "Seriously though, it isn't bad.  So long as you've got food to eat and don't run into anything too much bigger than you, there's no one calling the shots but you."  He'd never had a problem with answering to an Alpha, but not having to did have its merits.  "And when you do run into things bigger than you, it's a little more thrilling."  At that he winked, then rose slowly so that he was more on eye level.  "Why do you ask?"

Lonely, huh? Potema, to be quite honest, wouldn't mind that. Most of her childhood was spent alone, though not in a depressing way. She just liked to explore by herself, that's all. The life the loner described didn't seem all that bad. She could hunt for herself very well, and she liked being in charge. Her two brothers, Damien especially, taking control all of the time whenever they were together. Her mother and Burke, while not overbearing, were still Alphas. She had to listen to them, parents or not.

"I've lived in a pack my whole life." She said, shrugging good naturedly. "I've never travelled on my own before."

The life wasn't for everyone.  Some, the anxiety could drive them mad.  Others, like him, were fine but not quite content.  the third variety, the ones that thrived, were a special sort.  "Makes sense," he responded, her answer clear enough that he could imagine why she'd be curious.  He probably could have said more, but he was tired, and his side had started to ache fiercely.

"Your pack know you are out here by yourself?"  He suddenly looked about, wondering what would happen if they came looking and found her with him.  Some packs could be funny about that, though he couldn't imagine why.  No harm in a simple convo, right?

Potema looked into this loner's eyes, noticing the exhaustion slowly creating a film over his eyes. Fun and remarkable as that experience was, being thrown in the air and crash-landing had to be tiring. She didn't bring it up, a natural distrust for strangers, coinciding with the current conditions prevented her from making the suggestion. He would have do deal with this himself. He was a loner after all. Isn't this what they did?


"Probably." They should know that Potema was capable of taking care of herself, Damien and Cicero too. The pack shouldn't worry about a few pups, Meldresi's children or not. "I'm not far though, it's ok." She shrugged. "Why, are you worried about me or something?"

He shook his head at her question, pushing himself into a sitting position with a wince.  "No offense, but I'm more worried about me.  Pack wolves sometimes don't like loners hangin around.  Would hate for some of your buddies to show up and take offense."  

He'd want to move on soon, but another question crossed his mind.  No sense taking chances.  "Which way is home? Just so I know where not to go."  He'd steer clear of there if possible.  Generally he didn't mind riling up a packie or two, but he had no desire to get any sorer today. The storm, while exhilarating, was thrashing enough.

"True." Blackfeather wolves tended to attempt to kill intruders, or those who came close to their borders. Someone like this wolf would be killed by Burke, most likely. Even Damien if he got the chance.

The girl turned towards the north, nosing towards the direction of the black smear that was her home. "Blackfeather Woods. Up there." She knew that he would remember the name, and hopefully spread it. Burke said that those rumors of the place brought him to the place. She would be doing a lot of good in advertising, in a way.

The one-eyed raven cawed, drawing Potema's attention back to it again. The black birds nearby congregating closer towards the leader. For what, Potema really didn't know. She wasn't that good of a bird-whisperer yet. "You'd better get going rest somewhere."

"Sounds like a plan."   He rose and began in the direction opposite of where she indicated home to be, ears tipping back slightly as soreness made itself evident.  A very good plan.

"Have fun with your friends," he called back, still wondering at the strangeness of it.  Birds.  What a wierd group to have at your back.  He'd probably think twice next time he saw a crow or raven.... Who knew what the damn thing could be reporting back, after all.

Potema and the birds watched the loner go. When he was a dot in the horizon the birds flew off into flight, wheeling around before heading northwest. Where they were going, Potema was not certain, but she had a feeling they were foraging. They had chicks and elders to feed.

Following their lead, Potema trotted after them, her eye on the sky, making up a story about the loner who had learned to fly. It would be a good legend, if she changed a thing or two.