I desire the things that will destroy me in the end {J}

@Caiaphas


The snow was light on the ground, the soft light of the grey dawn permeating the air with a frisson of heat but to the cold frozen ground of the valley, it tried but to no avail. The ground was frozen from the depths of the winter- and what a winter it was. The snow had fallen thick since she had entered this place, her soul a desolate wasteland of grief and sorrow and sheer frustration. And yet the spring had come again, as the beauty of nature once again dominated over the elements.

And here it led here, to a winter valley full of the new scents of a pack. The air was thick with the scents, long ago placed, perhaps a handful of moons ago. Malia couldn't remember the last time she'd felt the primal urge of a pack territory. It was an urge, common in most any-wolf but of course, some stuck to themselves. The instinct to belong to and be surrounded by both pack and family.

She bordered on the edge of a life both achingly familiar and excruciatingly painful in her memories, a concept of a pack of strangers to welcome her and a family to call her own. It was a foolish thing, to expect a stranger to accept her so readily but many packs needed as many wolves as possible. The winter was harsh after all and prey on the short side of existence. There were hungry mouths to feed but so little to feed them with and any smart alpha needed all the hunters they could get. Malia assumed she'd be accepted for the winter but who knew what spring would bring? It was a season of life and renewal, perhaps they would chase off the helpers of the winter.

Perhaps she would leave after the season was over, with no attachment to his former pack and no pain. There would be no heartfelt farewells, for none would know her enough to miss him, just as she preferred it. Or so she hoped. Sniffing the ground, she brought her head up further to the apex of the sky, letting a howl ripple from her throat and echo loudly across the convex valley. She made herself comfortable as she waited, knowing her call would be heard and responded to by an Alpha. That was, if the pack was well organised. If not, she'd be in for a long wait. She set her emerald gaze on the horizon and waited for the inevitable meeting with a potentially hostile pack.

She just hoped the polite gesture of a request to see the alpha or a beta would at least secure her safe passage.

your writing is so pretty! sorry for the wait. keeping this reaaaally vague bc the outcome of the war isn't determined yet

at dismal daybreak the sullen she-wolf rose, a bent and crisp silhouette against the night's dying brilliance. the sea thrummed monotonous besides her, a constant reminder of the rhythmic and insensate cycle of life. caiaphas turned a slender ear to the mother sea's bellowed calling, trailing her flat limbs along the rushing water.

between the frothy bay of the sea and the whisking beat of the wind she heard the summon of a wolf distant -- perhaps somewhere along their borders. the svelte thing departed the seafoam's touch, though salt and rime-water still lanced her pelt as she came upon the source of the call. at first she thought the silver spectre to be covered in blood; it was not until she drew close that she was cognizant of the most unusual and visually pleasing pelt the female bore.

the sea-witch's feral eyes fell upon the stranger, and silence coursed about them cold as saltwater as she awaited the naiad's explanation for her howl.

Thank you so much~ :)

There was the briefest moment, of silence and twisting cold currents like glaciers winding slowly in between them before Malia lowered her head to the alpha fae. Guarded yellow eyes befit well the wolf, a silver spectre helmeted in the darkest of nights, such a strange pattern but who was she to speak? Her coat was atypical at best, down right strange at worst and yet it had served her well all her life long.

"Merry meet, sister-wolf. I hope I have not disturbed you from matters of great importance but I seek a place among your pack. Too long have I wandered the wilds, searching the mother in the land but perhaps this wolf was seeking the moon-mother and sea-sister. I am Malia Ahniya-dåtr, daughter of Ahniya and a wolf who needs no name."

malia was quick to launch into speech, the resonance of her voice striking caiaphas as somewhat peculiar in its semblance. the structure of her sentences lacking pentatonic verse. caiaphas was reminded of hatshepsut, the foreign beauty with a grecian tongue -- but this wolf, however queer the manner of her speaking, was much more direct than hatshepsut had ever been.

she proffered a vague smile, though its origin was shielded and no warmth came forth from it. at the very least, she appreciated the she-wolf's forthright reply. it spared her headache, and furthermore spared caiaphas any shade of suspicion. wolves who dallied or tinkered around explanations were wolves worthy of little trust.

breve in nature, it seemed only fit that caiaphas replied curtly. "can you fight?" it was all the haggard wretch asked, her fierce gaze settling on the female's frame.

I must admit, I find your writing to be just as entrancing. Your use of words is so much better than mine! :) Sorry this is so short. @Caiaphas  

The fae didn't mince words, just scrutinising her with a sharp eye and a veiled smile. There was little that welcomed her in that smile but it was not bellicose  in nature, just vague and shielded in origin.

The wolf facing her just dissected her with her eyes, as if garnering all she needed to know from a glance alone but she ignored it. "Yes, sister-wolf. I have not seen as much battle as others but fighting-" and here she paused, grey eyes glinting in the dying rhapsody of the night and her teeth sought each other's embrace in a feral grin. "Fighting is my blood."

no need for apologies :) short and sweet is my favorite

she eyed the she-wolf lengthily, pleased by the circumspect mien the wolf presented. a fighter -- they needed more of those -- particularly since duskfire had delivered a rather resonant blow of asswhoopin' to the ankyra wolves.

the feral grin that malia sported evinced another brief smile from the shrew. "well met, then." the siren queen saluted with a sharp tongue, raising her adorned muzzle proudly as she spoke of her station: "i am caiaphas, siren queen to the nereides of ankyra sound." while there was little flair to her elaborate title, caiaphas thought her importance weighty. "and ankyra sound is the middle of a war."

The dusky queen watched her with careful misgivings, each movement catalogued into topaz-bright eyes like a hawk watching a snake. It was no challenge, no obvious threat but one- superiority gleamed in this alpha's eyes.

"Well met, my queen." Never before had Malia heard of a siren, nor the nereides but a shiver ran along her fur, a frisson of unknown origin as she tucked her head down, though she cocked an ear and grinned that selfsame grin, feral and wild. Yes, war was something she could do. "And a war needs warriors, does it not? Consider me your warrior then, for the rage of battle is where my peace lies."