Silverlight Terrace Do I look fat in this dress?

Anyone - Tags for reference

@Sialuk had woken her with a pleasant howl that morning — such had been the norm for many days, and Toad was growing used to the bugle rise. She'd always been more of a morning person anyway. It gave her some pleasure to know that at least one other person had an appreciation for the sunrise and cool air, even a small girl.

Toad had decided to descend the mountain the evening before. Her date with @Bronco had left her feeling good, but... old. She was starting to realize that many of the people of Moonspear were younger than she was, sometimes by a lot. Even Hydra and her sisters, accomplished and fierce, were at least a year younger than she.

Though Toad didn't feel the aches in her joints or feel as though she was slowing down in any way, part of her was beginning to feel much of her life had been wasted waiting around for things to happen. She knew that this wasn't really a bad thing. Her family relationships were quite positive and she had been fortunate enough to be able to come to the Teekon Wilds on her own to explore and find a new pack.

She was on her back on the rolling grassy hills of the Terrace. She hummed a song with no real tune or destination, thinking of @Meerkat and her brother, wondering if she had ventured on her own too late. The sun felt nice on her belly.

Tag for reference, intended to be backdated a bit. Hope this works! :D

 

Tahoe’s afternoon at the beach had done wonders for him. @Memphis had left him rather abruptly—he didn’t think about pursuing the man further. Their brief conversation had lingered in his head, but he had shaken it away with ease. Instead, he had spent the day sunbathing and blissfully relaxing. The ceaseless clamor of the ocean served as almost a lullaby to him. Tahoe found himself drifting off, only realizing he had slept the entirety of the night after being gently roused by the new dawn’s rays. Releasing a groggy yawn, the man arose from his position and meandered toward the waterline. Even though he had first seen it the day prior, the sea never failed to captivate him. The roaring plain of water was formidably endless, yet alluring. The general character of the place seemed to put him at ease. A stunning, rosy, ocean sunrise was a calming way to start the day. Tahoe dawdled upon the shoreline for few moments before saying his goodbyes to the waters. Reinvigorated, he embarked inland.

The sands beneath him quickly faded into tall grasses, which licked at his windblown fur as he ambled through. He traveled throughout the whole morning—the sea was far behind now. Its imprint was still evident on him though, in the form of sand which was still glued to his undersides. Some of these granules were eventually replaced by various scraps of vegetation as the landscape had become thick with trees and undergrowth—eventually surrendering to lush rolling grassland once again. The sun beat down on his spine as he continued to walk. Tahoe slackened his jaw, his tongue lolling as he panted. Out of the blue, a soft, disembodied melody made his ears prick forth, maw closing as he listened. The sound was a carefree hum, the singer’s voice close-by and feminine. His yellow eyes scanned the grassy hills in search for whoever was idling nearby. Finally, he located the woman downhill. She was supine, singing a sweet song to herself while lounging in the embrace of the afternoon sunshine. McBride was curiously nonplussed, his head tilted slightly as he observed her. She was still slightly too far for him to identify her, so remained there—standing and studying her simply—waiting to see if the woman would eventually turn and notice him.

That works!

Oddly, she began to feel the sensation of being watched. A person had once told her that this phenomenon was a remnant of when wolven ancestors were the prey of larger, more ferocious beasts. Toad had wondered what such creatures would be like and how big they must have been. Where would they have gone? Her mind distracted itself with such broken storylines as her humming ceased.

She rolled over and stretched herself on her side, toes spreading like goofy talons. As Toad lifted her head, she saw the source of her mild unease a fair distance away. Her tail flopped twice.

She didn't recognize him, but didn't hesitate in standing and shaking out her stiffness. Afternoon, Toad called, her tail wagging softly behind her. He looked rather hardened — she could see a tear in one of his ears even at a distance.

He watched as she rolled, eyeing him before getting to her feet. Tahoe could see her better now. She was blanketed in a mixture of mousy and deep brown tones which stood out against her pale undersides. He thought she was similar in appearance to the man he had met at the beach—perhaps they were related. Then again, most wolves he had encountered were all vaguely similar in pattern. At this point in his life, he didn't bother.

Her song had ended now, she then went on to acknowledge him with a simple "Afternoon." She seemed cordial, which he felt was rather refreshing when compared to some of the folks he alas had come across. He'd give a bit of conversation a shot. Why not?

Afternoon. Came his reply, followed by a courteous dip of his head. Enjoyin' yourself? I woulda joined you, but I've already got enough dirt hangin' onto me already.

Toad felt comfortable closing some of the distance between them after she greeted; he didn't seem to be overly bothered or stiff in the way that she would find threatening or rude. He dipped his head, which lit a plump grin on her face. Though he was a stranger, his simple demeanor let her maintain her warm, relaxed state of mind.

When he explained why he hadn't joined her, she smiled open-mouthed, a breathy, awkward laugh escaping her. Toad was rather tempted to offer him a pleasant grooming session, but this was something typically unacceptable for strangers. She briefly recalled Gawain and the way his harsh exterior had melted from a gentle grooming touch.

I figured it would be silly to waste whatever sunshine we have left before Autumn. The ground is finally starting to dry out from last month's rainstorms, she said, nodding politely. She wondered how much more of this fortunate weather they had left before things got ugly again. I'm Toad, she introduced, cocking her head ever so slightly in the hopes he too might share. He was marred all over with scars from battles long past. Clearly, he'd been through a lot.

The woman, who revealed her name to be Toad, flashed a gleeful smile as she drew near. Her mannerisms were personably unique, friendly in nature. In contrast, Tahoe was rather a stoic man himself, and chose not to over-engage. He respectfully listened to her response, his posture relaxed. She seemed easy to converse with, perhaps she knew a thing or two. Most notably, he swore he could detect the smell of other lupines amidst the scent of grass on her fur. It was mere speculation though, but he put a wealth of trust in his nose—it never lead him astray. 

I see. Rain wasn' so bad back inland. Must’a been mighty rough down by the coast durin’ the worst’f it, though. He responded gruffly. He was glad that the sun decided to make its reappearance. This was a momentary pleasure, however. The days were beginning to fall shorter and shorter—autumn was approaching.

Name's Tahoe. What earn’d ya a name like that, Toad? He went on to inquire, his tone simplistic, yet laced with a tinge of amusement.

As she sniffed at him, ever polite, she was surprised to find that he had recently been to the seashore in the north. Clearly, he was a well-travelled animal, able to move so far so quickly. Toad listened, a small quirk to her smile appearing at his interesting accent. Her tail continued waving slowly behind her. Must have, she agreed, nodding. She wasn't sure if there were packs along the coast, but guessed that given the high density near the Heartland, there must have been.

Tahoe, as he was called, asked about her name. She grinned in mild embarrassment, looking away and up for a moment. It was rather ridiculous the naming conventions of her family. She'd always found it a bit limiting, but maybe she was just jealous of her siblings who had been named after nimble and fierce birds instead of a lowly amphibian. Ah well.

Oh, my family names our children after the animals they resemble. And, well, apparently I looked like a toad, she said. As she said it, her smile was altered by what could have been pain. Although she hadn't grown up in an environment that told her she was ugly, she knew she wasn't exactly as fetching as her siblings. Fox was a much more flattering name, after all. She laughed weakly, trying to dispel her own tension.

He observed Toad’s little nostrils flare as she sniffed him. He became acutely aware of his own actions in turn, deciding to return the gesture with the same subtlety. The woman was all smiles, but her demeanor shifted as she mentioned the traditions of her family. Familial issues seemed to be a touchy subject with some folks. Tahoe never understood why some would let something from their childhood—a distant memory—have a hold on them in their present lives. Some people just need to let it go. Though on the subject of a name, that would be more complicated to escape; a temporary exception.

The concept of a naming tradition conjured memories of when presented with the task of naming his own offspring. Tahoe never had cared much about names, and subsequently granted his wife the honor. He understood that some parents took the matter with much more seriousness than himself. 

Well, they sure did ya dirty with that one. Was his reply—a plainly delivered jest. Ever think’ta change it?

Although Toad didn't think she would ever have children (after all, who would take her as a partner?), she didn't like the idea of naming her children after other animals. Perhaps she would simply roll with the tradition of her husband's family, or perhaps she would invent something entirely new. Traditions seemed like good things some of the time, but in some cases they could be destructive, or just downright stupid.

Heh, yeah, she gave a breath of a laugh; there was no humour in it. Maybe; I took my mother's name, Amelia, as a middle name. I don't know if I would feel right going by her name without really earning it, she explained. Her close relationship with her mother had largely ended after childhood, but she held great respect for her. Toad wanted to be like her mother, but taking her name felt a bit like stealing. She'd kept it as a middle simply to maintain her legacy.

Tahoe hadn't realized so many folks had middle names. After all, he had never formally been given more than a first. Family names—last names—didn't count as a second name, to him at least, they were rather a label. Adding another name on top of that seemed excessive. He'd encountered a handful of wolves who had titles so lengthy they weren't worth remembering, not to mention pretentious. A single, simple name should be enough for one wolf. Though Toad Amelia's was the opposite of egregious; her name qualified as an exemption to his judgement. 

Its got'a good ring to it, Miss Toad Amelia. He commented. I'm guessin' you live 'round here.

Toad couldn't help but smile at Tahoe's pleasantries. No one had called her a "Miss" since she was two years old. I do, she confirmed. Gesturing toward Moonspear's great peak with her nose, she spoke in calm, almost wispy tones. That's Moonspear. It's a great mountain that's well-sheltered from everything, she explained, her expression rather misty-eyed. I came to them just a couple months ago. The Ostregas are a good family, she looked back at him with a steady nod of her head.

She wondered about him. Where was he from? What was he doing? It was impossible to place him among other packs based on the scents he carried with him that day. She thought it best to keep answering his questions, more than happy to speak about her own life at Moonspear.

Toad spoke kindly about her new home, and those who had accepted her—the Ostregas, she had called them. Tahoe wondered if the group was named after their family name, the landmark name, or something else entirely. He chose not to voice his inquisitions on such a trivial misconception, the given information would suffice. Whatever their name, it would be a smart idea to steer clear of the pack's lands.

Moonspear. Good to know. He remarked, glancing at the distance summit. He could see why the peak was given such a title, it truly seemed to scrape the sky. Tahoe hadn't explored the upper elevations all too much. He had contemplated doing so for the sake of it, but it was much easier to obtain prey in the lowlands. Fewer creatures tended to inhabit the desolate mountains anyway. Without assistance, hunting was already a challenge on its own. You must be havin' a day off then, eh?

Toad paused for a moment, thinking what a day off really was. She supposed that she was indeed taking a bit of a vacation from her usual bustling activity. It wasn't as though she didn't know how to relax, but it was getting a bit easier now that the rain wasn't pouring all the time. Hunting in general was more difficult when everything was consistently covered in mud.

She nodded, looking up briefly at the sunny skies. Yeah I suppose I am. It's a good day for it, she said lightly. She turned her attention to him more closely. And you? What are you up to today? It was clear he had his own stories and adventures. Toad was curious why he had made the journey all the way from the coast, but didn't want to pry too much. He was an odd sort.

Fade here or with next post? <3

Today was a swell day to spend in the sun. Truthfully, he didn't have a set itinerary. His over-arching goal was to further familiarize himself with the wilds, which largely he had grown accustomed to, but desired to investigate more thoroughly. The task was a rather complicated one to plan. In short, it would be easier to simply dive in. And so, he had embarked, pertinacious, yet precautious. He was well-aware of the fact he was not alone in these lands and sought not to test such a theory. Having encountered such a breezy local—Toad Amelia—was a sober relief. 

Sure is. Couldn' stand to waste a day like today. Had a nice night down on the beach, today I thought I'd get 'round to explorin' the area before settlin' somewhere for winter. He divulged, quite honestly. Toad had been kind enough to answer his inquisitions, so he didn't mind sharing his plans—uninteresting as they were. I won't bug ya any longer. Enjoy your afternoon, Miss Toad. The man woofed, pausing to gauge her response before making an exit.

Good to me! Fading here

Tahoe described that he'd simply wanted to explore, having come from the coast. He was looking to find a place to live during the winter months. Toad's ears perked and she tilted her head very slightly, wondering if the wandering male was in fact looking for a pack. She wanted to know more.

That was all of the information she was going to get out of him, however. It wasn't too often that she met strange males, even during her travels as a lone wolf. However, she was not a person who would pry needlessly even from the kindest stranger. When he moved to leave, she took the hint and nodded. You too, it was a pleasure, Mr. Tahoe, she answered, mirroring his words.

Toad wondered if they would meet again. She wondered how his ear had become torn. She wondered why he was alone when he seemed so kind and reasonable. For the moment, her curiosity would need to be satiated with just his brief presence. As they bid farewell, Tahoe left her to enjoy the grassy meadow and she did so, thinking about the encounter.