Big Salmon Lake Vague statements

Qui is ideally looking for hot chicks to recruit to RHC but whoever is good!

It had been a while since he'd gone to the lake that he'd lurked around back when he was a lone wolf.  It looked different still laced with snow, though the center of the lake was mostly free of ice.  The thing that was missing at this particular instant, though, was the geese.   They'd made a great meal to drag back to the pack again, even though he didn't look forward to dragging another goose through the bramble infested forest in the way, but at least the lack of them prevented that entirely.

That left him with another option, go recruiting, as he'd been planning to do.  He didn't smell much interesting on the way so far.  He knew that more wolves seemed to frequent the lake (or at least, any sane wolf would rather visit a lake than a land of spiked plants that were still often hidden by snow), so here seemed like a good place to start.  He scooted up to the shore of the lake, shoving a little bit of snow out of the way, pressing down on the ice to crack it enough for him to take a drink.

So.  About that whole recruiting thing.  He raised his head high, nostrils flaring to catch whatever was on the breeze as he scanned what was around him.

This looked lonely. :)

A month had passed, since Wraen had left Moonspear behind without a second glance back, and after the first excitement for a new adventure had ceased, life had become pretty much the same for her. Hunting, providing, guarding at times and connecting with the pack-mates. The latter with her work-load was a little difficult to do, since their number tended to increase with every psasing day, and more often than not she did not find in herself the capacity and energy to go over and make friends with every new face that appeared in the rank table. 

This fact - though making her feel increasingly left out of all the important events and socializing with others - did not deter Wraen from leaving the territories almost daily and work on her hunting skills in solitude. Now that sufficient time had passed since her leaving Moonspear, she felt braver to venture further away from Sunspire and closer to the place that would not welcome her cordially, should she run into any of their members.

From afar she saw Bramblepoint, which had been her favorite place (and was still, though she could not visit it as often as she would have liked), and made her wonder, whether her secret hide-out was occupied by someone else. However, before she disappeared there, it felt right to go over to the small lake nearby and check upon the potential prey situation there. It was highly unlikely that Sunspire wolves would venture this far away, unless they were pressed for food, yet Wraen's practical mind did not allow her to make a journey for journey's sake - there had to be some benefit as well.

Upon her arrival, she noticed another wolf with a dark pelt that had already taken a seat by the only substantial source of water in the area. She slowed her pace and eventually came to a halt several feet away from the man, watching him both curiously and cautiously and wondering, if her would take notice of her as well.

:D Thank ya for joining!

Kicking things more to the present, though the ice was now thin and the snow was usually decreasing more than increasing as the days passed.  He'd still not had much luck finding new folks to drag over to the Caldera, but maybe at some point he'd have luck.  He tapped at the ice again with a broad paw, the broken parts bobbing.  Yeah, still no way he was gonna go fishing in that for quite a while to come.  Way too frosty for his liking.

He looked away from the water to continue on his way and instead spotted a greyscale figure not too far away.  His ears flicked forward.  So, who was this?  Quixote took a step away from the lake itself, a single wag of his tail.  Amiable but cautious was the aura he wanted to put forward, and though he didn't know if he in his awkwardness was expressing it properly.  He was far more comfortable being aloof and sarcastic but that probably wouldn't win him any recruits.

Not that it seemed like she likely was one.  He was pretty sure that he could smell a pack's worth of wolves on her, but the breeze wasn't perfectly placed to do so.  Unfortunate for him.  But eh.  So it went.  There was no saying his luck was gonna give him what he wanted to begin with, but at least she was the gender he was looking for.  One out of two technically wasn't too bad, was it?  But on the other hand, if she really wasn't recruitable, he could maybe push his own boundaries a bit just to see.  Well, depending on how she acted.  Hey.  Now, there was no saying he was anything even resembling a great conversationalist.  It was better than gawking at her silently though.

The wolf turned and Wraen was met with the most amusing character ever - he was her size and yet of a way different built. Comparing her to him would be like comparing an expensive china tea cup to a heavy and rough clay-pot. By all objective considerations there was nothing very funny about the other and yet she could not help but smile the longer her gaze rested upon his face and form.

"Hi," she returned the greeting, took some steps closer and than sat down. "You know that there are other ways to read fortune than just staring at the lake's ice?"

He hadn't even said anything of substance and yet she seemed almost kinda amused?  What did he do?  Whatever it was, he wanted to preserve it for later use and study.  The Blackthorn escapade had left him a little wary, but why wouldn't it? He'd gone out expecting to go find some nice ladies to talk to and instead he found one that was far more interested in trying to basically browbeat him into giving whatever information she so desired.  Given that was basically his first trip out to do so, he was half expecting her to suddenly switch faces and demand something irrational.  But no, not yet at least.

He took a seat also, a slight tilt to his head as he pondered what she'd said.  Fortune telling, eh?  More like mourning the fact that winter doesn't ever want to end.  But if you're saying it can tell the future, by all means enlighten me.  What was he even planning to say before she'd broached the topic?  Who the hell knew.  Quixote was just winging it at this point.  Trying to play nice didn't come naturally to him, and in fact it made him feel quite out of place.  But people would be more cooperative if he tried to be nice, right? Ug. The world should just operate on sarcasm and snark.

"Well, that really sucks, I agree," Wraen agreed more out of courtesy than actually meaning it. It was a bit prolonged compared to the last year, but then again, when did Mother Nature ever asked for an opinion on, how to handle things? And with this in mind - why waste time mourning?

"There are a lot of "mancies" to choose from," she said, after she had opened that drawer in her mind that was called "wacky ways to predict future" and pulled out some files. "What would you like to try out? Lupomancy, gastromancy, gyromancy, myomancy, onychomancy, ailuromancy, uromancy or my personal favorite - oneiromancy?" so many silly ways to pass the time.

So he was going to get his fortune told!  Or be taught how to tell it.  Whichever.  He wasn't sure yet.  It didn't matter too much either way.  His tail beat against the ground a couple of times as he pondered it and she began to list things.  What would lie ahead?  Besides more snow, seemed like.

But the list just kept going.  He paused, staring at her owlishly, Wait, w-what.  I don't even have a clue what like half of those are-- but as he talked, he shifted from dumbfounded to bemused, -- maybe more than half.  What's that last one, your favorite?  They all sounded made up or other nonsense to him, but maybe they all were real?  It wasn't like he had the background in it.  It wasn't beating up people, so it hadn't been a subject of training.

Even if it was all made up, he was quite willing to play along

"Oh... explaining them is no problem," Wraen now entered the role of being the annoying know-it-all - sitting tall, proud with all the chest puffing and smiling condescendingly. The eyes, however, were alight with amusement and now and then she would have to suppress a chuckle.

"Oneiromancy is dream-reading. Basically - you tell me your latest dream and I might be able to tell you, what awaits you in the future. OR - what were you doing yesterday, if the dream is specific enough," she explained and then quickly went over the list of the "mancies" she had mentioned earlier. 

"To do lupomancy we would have to gut a wolf - but I do not suppose you know of any corpes lying around, do you?" she asked and paused a little for a more dramatic effect, as if seriously considering that Quixote would come up with a wolf cadaver this instant. 

"Gastromancy is something you can do yourself - listen to your belly sounds - some say that among the burps and slurps the dead are trying to make a divine contact," she was not a big fan of this, because listening to your stomach sounds required copious amounts of focus. 

"Myomancy - you choose a mouse or a rat and observe it's behaviour and ailuromancy - find a cougar and try not to get killed. All divination with big cats that have big claws is quite a one-way thing," she explained this with a nervous chuckle, because her last encounter with a cougar was still fresh in her memory. 

"In gyromancy you think of a question, then spin yourself in circles to the point of falling and dizziness and wait for an answer," aside from a severe nausea she had never got answers from this one. "And onychomancy - look at your wonderful nails and see, what future they behold."

What is this, a non-drama thread? How do those work again? Oh if he only knew what lay ahead. :P

She seemed to enjoy explaining it all at least, much to his amusement.  Oh, dreams.  That sounded like a nice one, if only... If you don't remember your dreams does that mean you're gonna like.. fall off a cliff or stop existing or somethin'?  He didn't think there was actually much to it, but it gave him a moment of thought.

Well, seeing as I like my guts on the inside -- you say you can tell the future from my nails?  He raised a paw off the ground, trying to take a look at them.  He had no idea how anyone would be able to tell anything from them.  They were just nails, beaten up a bit from scrabbling around the rockier areas on the Caldera.  At least it wasn't late enough in the season for it to be all muddy from the melt, the snow kept his toes nice and clean, if wet.

"Nah - you won't. All people dream, just some are better at remembering them," Wraen replied. Her dreams were very vivid and at times absurd and hilarious, and back at home she had used to tell her adventures in the dream-land to cheer up the rest of the folk. She had also noticed that to a certain degree she could affect, what she was dreaming, especially if it was bound to activities or unresolved problems the previous afternoon. Did she ever believe that dreams could foretell future? No. 

"Nails it is then. Except the fortune is a little different for each foot. The right tells about your physical state and health, the left about matters of the heart, the right hind foot - about people you are going to meet. And the left hind foot - that's the wishing limb. Think about a question of "yes" and "no" variety and you will get an answer. Which one do you want to start with?"

Eh, damned if I ever do, so good thing, there.  Apparently inside Quixote's mind was a pretty bleak place once consciousness went away.  It was just some void that he rented during the waking hours.

A pause, he looked at his foot then up again, Uh.  This one I guess?  Already got it off the ground and all.  It was his left forefoot, and he offered it forward.  If he didn't have it up already, it's highly likely he would have done another instead -- it didn't seem like a very manly thing to wonder about, even if he was on his ongoing quest for hot chicks without a pack.  He did tend to worry about such things, even if it was as silly as fortune-telling itself.

It was probably all nonsense, wasn't it?  Though he almost wanted to believe it was true because it'd mean that maybe if he got some good news, it might actually be something to look forward to.  Things hadn't entirely gone his way so far.  Maybe they wouldn't, ever.

For others to know - vague meta-gaming as per agreement.

"Matters of the heart it will be," Wraen said cheerfully and hoped that the man was just as clueless of which the right and left foot was as her. Even at the tender age of almost two years old she had occasional difficulties of telling apart, which was which. The same applied to all decisions, where only answere were either "yes" or "no"/"true" and "false".

She gave a good look at the out-stretched paw and the worn dark nails that sprouted out from each furry nail-bed. "Not a heart matter, but, if I were you, I would keep this little bugger short. Will catch on stuff and you will injure the most useless finger of your paw," she pointed out to the "thumb" the nail of which seemed to her to be too long. She had torn a nail that way once and it had hurt like hell. 

"As for the rest... judging by this bad boy," she pointed out to one of the nails that was longer than the rest, "your life is governed by a female and you are not really in charge of your own decisions. You are under a - thumb, no - someone else's claws and jaws. I say - that you might be taken, where you do not want to go, and pushed to do things that you would rather not do."

She examined the rest - three, weren't they? "This split here," she said, pointing out to a nail part of which was slightly broken, "might mean a possible conflict and you would have to take a side. This might not be an easy choice, because there is no true black and white on either side." And basically, if this nail splits further, this might hurt as hell, again.

"Hey, this is actually nice - I see a passion coming your way. Can't say, how it ends right now - lines here are all curvy and broken off at some points, but be ready. And - enjoy it no matter, how it ends," she added for a good measure and gave him a mischievous grin. 

"And as for this one and the whole paw - tough times lie ahead, but if you choose wisely and what you think is right for you in the first place, I say that all will be well. Not flawless, not straight away, but you will be fine," she finished her fortune-telling, finding that it actually had been fun and had come quite easy. And - all things considered - did not sound so much as total bullshit as she had expected it to be.

Some of it sounded pretty believable -- he had to deal with Towhee's whims, and he could easily see her causing some kind of trouble, but that's why he was out here in the first place, wasn't he?  He needed to learn how to talk to people and prevent it since it sure as hell seemed nobody else was gonna do so.  It was a frustrating thought.  Either way, he nodded along with her as she talked, and made a mental note to maybe take a little bit better care of his feet, as suggested.

As long as the boss isn't the one involved in the passion thing, noooo thaaaanks.   He made a face to go along with it, though perhaps a little overdramatic.  Still, 'no leaders' was one of his rules, and he was pretty keen on staying by that one. Would something else be able to check? I mean it could be totally wrong but I dunno if I wanna take that chance. Sure there could be some overlap with others but he wasn't sure -- maybe there was one that she knew would have a higher chance of saying the right thing.

No, the absolute worst one would be Towhee forcing him to become her mate or he'd be kicked out of the pack and/or fed to Finley's pups or something.  Or it could just be garbage, but let's go with the worst option.  The fact that maybe it'd be someone else entirely was foreign to him -- his luck was so bad he'd probably be on his own for another year and a half, surely.  Or maybe the passion was him talking to a friend about how delicious deer were or something.

"Nail reading is not that specific," Wraen replied, when the wolf stated that he definitely did not want to get involved with the boss. Had she known that Towhee was that person, she would have agreed to him wholeheartedly. A cousin or not, she had not particularly liked the Redhawk.

"It says, what hangs in there for you, but, how you play it out, is absolutely up to you," she added and thought that all in all this fortune-telling business was not so bad. Say vague statements, give the person the idea and at the same time take no responsibility over your words. All in your paws, so to say. 

"I don't think I understood your question - you want more predictions about your future?" she asked.

I like, how the thread title corresponds to the story perfectly.

And now there's even more things for her have predicted! :P  Though I'm sure they could have been wedged in there anyway on another read, haha.

So, didn't sound like they could rule out that option.  Unfortunate, but he guessed that if it was that easy, everyone would just have their future checked every few months and then nothing would be particularly exciting.  Could at least prepare for dumb things happening, though.  Eeeh. I mean, that's already plenty, thanks -- and from just one paw?  That's kind of nuts.  He wiggled his toes, thinking about it.

Quixote was almost certainly going to push it all to the back of his mind, forget about it, and then wake up in the middle of the night a month or two on down the road and realize how much could align with what she said.  Perhaps it'd even be enough to send a shiver down his spine and make him wary of that sort of thing in the future.  Or not.  Things were not yet written.

A sudden thought struck him, Don't think I said -- I'm Quixote, from the Caldera.  Don't think I recognize what pack you're from.  Honestly, though, he hadn't been too far, so the only scents he'd sampled from were his own pack as well as Moonspear, Blackfeather, and Drageda, and the last was only because of the war.  Was it new?  Probably just somewhere off past Blackfeather, knowing on how things went.  He was just gonna keep avoiding that whole possible mess, yup.

"It has been a pleasure to be your fortune-teller, Quixote from Caldera," Wraen replied and dipped her muzzle politely. "I am Wraen from the Sunspire," she beckoned to the mountain range nearby. "If you are ever in need of more fortune-telling you will know, where to find me." She hoped that he did not though, because playing a silly game once, was one thing. It was entirely different, if any of the stuff she had told him, would become true and he would be thirsty for more. 

"Alright then," she got to her feet and stretched thoroughly, before setting out to go, "Whether we run into each other or not in the future - have a lovely evening and..." she paused thinking about a proper seer-like way to finish her speech, "... and a smooth path of fate." She gave him a mischievous smile and then set out for home.

Sunspire, huh?  That was a new one.  Or maybe it had been there the whole time and they just enjoyed hiding away all peacefully or whatever.  He'd have to mention it to Towhee or anyone else that went wandering, see if any of them heard of that pack.  Huh. Well, if I end up adventuring around more, maybe I'll swing by to say hi.  But he wouldn't get that chance, first getting told off by Towhee, then moved across the planet.  So it goes.  Thanks again.

He bowed politely as she wished him well.  Yeah, good uh.. Visions?  Readings?  Whatever. Just have a good evening and all that. Quixote wasn't the owner of the greatest vocabulary in the world.  Either way, he had plenty to think about as he wandered on back to the Caldera.  Like whether or not fortune telling was total nonsense.