Kintla Flatlands ₐｗₒₒₒₒₒ!

The moon peeked above the treetops of The Bracken Woods, then began its slow climb into the night sky. It wasn’t quite full, though as it rose, its bright, silvery light bathed the whole of the Teekon Wilds, from the blackened waters spanning the coast; across many a snowy spire and deep, quiet valley; even lighting up the lowlands down south.

Somewhere at the heart of it all, an ethereal voice rose up in a shivering crescendo. Sing with me! Sing! it howled, an otherworldly invitation that could not be denied by any wolfish ears it touched. Sing with me! Sing for the years! Sing for the laughter and sing for the tears!

We kindly invite every active character in the game to join this howl to commemorate our 10th WOLFiversary! We would love to see as many participants as possible, making this one of the ‘biggest’ threads in the site’s history! :)

From high on the eastern steppes Anselm made his journey home. The road before him was bright by the luminary glare. Most of the forest she’d was bathed in silvery shades of dark and grey, and he could just make out the hint of Paleo in the hills above.

A sound whispered to his ears, distant at first until he recognized it for what it was. Unbidden he threw back his head and lent his voice to the skies, feeling a tiny part of him was ever more involved in something bigger as his song climbed to the clouds.

Towhee couldn’t hear, of course, but as she walked along the island’s shoreline in search of a good spot to fish—she was quite literally moonlighting as a fisherman lately—something brought her to a halt. She cocked her head as if listening to some barely perceptible sound in the distance, her orange eyes roving over the nearby surf. The way the moonlight moved over the waves created an otherworldly effect.

Perhaps it was this sight that compelled Towhee to raise her snout skyward and let loose a burst of sound that could loosely be called a howl. She worried that she might wake the pups and/or their poor parents but something told her everybody was awake right now. She couldn’t be sure but she had a feeling they were even singing too.

when a song of voices struck her ears, mira's yellow gaze alit with something like instinct, as old as time. the triumphant sounds reminded her of moonspear and the greatness that had once existed there during her mother's reign, and as she watched the beautiful moon illuminate the sky, she broke free of her typical silence. her song joined the others, echoing across her homeland.

Fallen Sun didn't know much. But he knew a howl when he heard one, had learned to ignore them for the most part unless the tone was shifting into one of him or of importance to his location, and that was a howl. Not an... ordinary howl, and it was followed by additional howls. Something on the winds brushed against his soul, and he titled his head and let loose his own song into it. Long, fresh, clean.

From the flatlands not far from his pack in the mountains, Void heard the howl. Not really caring about why it was happening, he decided to join in. Tilting his head up to the moon, the massive black alfa joined in, with a deep, long howl.

Meerkat didn’t spend a lot of time at Narwhal’s cairn, though she liked to visit it from time to time, usually late at night. She sat there presently, listening to the cicadas and crickets. She closed her eyes and pictured her son at her side, alive and breathing, listening with her. She felt at peace.

A howl rose up in the distance, other voices lifting in song in every direction. Meerkat opened her eyes and peered at the moon. She couldn’t resist the rippling that began in her chest and climbed up her throat. She tipped her sandy muzzle upward and joined the starlit chorus.

Actually, Towhee, Caracal was asleep in the fern thicket just outside his family’s den when the heavenly voice poured over the wilderness. He stirred, blinking groggily as he raised his head, then cringed at the sound of his mother’s racket.

What the f—! he muttered but then fell silent as other voices began calling out from every which way.

That first voice—the one he’d nearly missed—threaded through them all, full of power and grace. God? Is that you? Caracal caught himself thinking a split second before he joined in with a wordless hymn.

when nüwu heard a song of strangers' voices rise over the mountaintops, her heart swelled a little. it gave her hope that there was, perhaps, a place for her here again. sure, it wasn't the familiar voices of her family, but still it gave her a feeling that there was a great community here, of all types of souls- and even with all their differences, they could come together and sing, as they were born to do by the nature of their very same species. it was a beautiful thing. she joined them, feeling comnected to each and every one in that moment, letting the ethereal sound course through her veins and take her, temporarily, away from all her troubles and concerns.

Reyson heard the howl and through years of bonds of brotherhood. He lifted his head. Hia voice ringing out long and true. He howled for those he lost. Those he loved. The little children he'd meet soon.

The voice from above, moon sent, called to her. As it called to every wolf in the Teekons. Beckoning...inspiring them to join in song.

It came from all around, echoing clear as a bell in the ears of all. Many other voices joined, in answer to it. Forming a varied but beautiful melody. Compelled by deep seated instinct and unable to resist, Elentari tipped back her head and sang.

Adding her voice to those answering the call from the moonlit sky.

In the slow additions, a siren cracked through her ears. 

In its urgency, she was frightened by their screeching pie-holes, fumbling out of her sleep and lifting her head up with a midnight mane for a hairdo. Little strays spiked out from her neck and face, and her eyeballs felt like they were spinning.

Opening her mouth while sleep stroked her head and beckoned her back with ongoing dreams still trying to force through, a small little "AAaaa.." Zzzzz.. "Aaa.."

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!"

And she hit the ground again.

zzzzz..

She heard the call, the first one- and wondered if this was a summons. 

Not yet, she prayed. She turned to lick at her side, where her flanks had begun to sink in. It was not an encouraging sign. 

She willed for the life to remain within her. Numerous voices answered the call, some singing of grief, some of joy. Moss would add her voice to the lot, a long, reverent prayer for safe passage through the times to come. Half of this, she sung to any spirits who might hear her- and the other half of her was singing to the awakening souls within herself.

Voices rose from every direction, and Vairë was helpless but to fall victim to the swirl of music. It rose over Saltshore like a great tide, and she looked to her sides, to the world around her, and wished so fervently that her home would mellow into normalcy by the time her children joined her on this earth.

Vairë tipped her nose back, and sang to the wind, smiling to herself as she did.

towhee jr does not hear it.

does not hear the haunting melody of a thousand voices rolling off the sea, lingering atop the mountains, serenading the valley.

she does not hear the voice of legion.

but she feels it in her bones.

a strange feeling that brushes against her spine like a ghosts' muzzle: a primal knowing that she would not experience again.

but she is voiceless, as well. and cannot join the legion in their song though she itches to. to tip her muzzle and let out string breathy sounds; a desperate attempt to sing.

Sable does.

But he too cannot speak it aloud. The boy raises his head to the distant voices, then looks to his sister. He is young, but not stupid. Sable moves to press his shoulder to hers, joining her in breathless noises.

A desperate wish to sing, shared between two mute swans.

Vale's time in the Rising Sun Valley had been quiet. She mostly kept her head down as she learned. This night she stayed up late. Watching the moon rise and shine strongly through the pitch. 

A distant beckoning reached her ears. Ever so powerful but it was alluring. Graceful. It seemed as though she was not the only who thought so. Distant wails rose in turn, and she tipped back her muzzle. Joining in on the song.

the call was the camaraderie which had left a void in him.

germanicus resisted at first.

and then he did not.

silver notes from misery's eagle.

The shadow was pacing through the trees when the cries met her, dripping over the mountains to collect in the valley like a pool. Many beautiful voices (as well as one rather odd, scream-y one that reminded her of the woman she had met near the lake) swirled through the night air, painting beautiful pictures in the twinkling stars.

The face lifted toward the sky, basked in the silver of the moon. She would not join in the song, but stand completely still, listening with her whole being to the primal melody that connected her to the earth and shook her bones. There was something mystical afoot tonight. Something that even just for a moment, connected the hearts of all those wandering the valley.

Sounds filled the sky. Many voices all sounding their emotions. Arlette listened. A hope that there were some she might recognize. The urge to join that perhaps some other wolf might recognize hers. She tipped her head back and howled. A siren call to anyone she might know. But most of all. Derg and Thyme. If they were out there. Please return.

Upon Huā's return to this cursed land, a chorus of voices had risen to the skies to greet her. She had entered at the northern part of the coast and yet found that the song was great enough to stretch even to her. There was no discernable message within them, to her dark ears. Only wolves seeking to join themselves together in some wordless way even if just for a moment. Among them, many unfamiliar voices. And one familiar one- that she could've sworn sounded like her runaway daughter. 

Huā lifted her voice into the air with them for a time. Just a song to the others, but a warning to her little girl, if Nüwu could hear her, that her mother was on her trail. The matriarch was a good wolf, with kindness in her heart, but at the end of the day she did not stray far from the culture she was raised in, and still sought to control the paths of her children. She hated that her daughter had returned in spite of all the danger they had fled from here, with the constant disappearances and tradgedies that used to befall them here. She could not see it happen to her own. And so as she sung, she vowed to find her.

he was roaming the heartwood when he heard it.

it was a song of numerous howls. 

he wasn't particularly one for such displays of... wolfishness. it made him feel silly. but the pull of it was strong, and so many songs were heard, that it felt like a special moment. one he couldn't miss out on. 

he joined them with his own voice, singing to no one in particular.

A long life had been lived by Star. Here in the mountainside, she rested in a cave, sickly simply with the problems of old age. She recently turned ten and could not be more greatful. Once, she had dreamed of dying a noble death in battle, defending a leader worth laying down her life for. Once, she had been told this was the best way to go. But now those dreams had long since faded, losing their grandeur as she grew older, and then, even their possibility, as her joints became too weak to continue going into battle, though she always appreciated how long she put in the work- the exercise had kept her quite healthy, for a time. 

Though she had never spent years on end in one place alone, she still was thankful for every place she had spent time in. Star was proud of everything she had made in each place- at Swiftcurrent Creek, she had come into the beginnings of her adulthood away from her original family and under Scimitar's rule, despite the trouble of being kidnapped during that time. She still bore the spiral scar of her torture there, and the memories remained, but all the wolves who had trapped her in those tunnels were long since gone. She had roamed in and out of the region, finding homes outside the Teekon too, and then coming back eventually, for Courtfall under the lady Andraste, and then Sagtannet under Mahler. There, with Howl, she had mothered her first litter, Marble and Calcifer, her beloveds. 

Now, she rested as one of her younger children looked after her. When music struck the air, her ears perked and her gaze shifted towards the view from the cave. All the wolves out there, most younger than herself. She wished to join them, but she knew she held little use to them now. Luckily she had children who cared enough to tend to her needs. Regardless of whether she belonged among them, though, Star joined the tradition as old as time, lifting her voice in with the rest. She nudged her caretaker child, urging them to join too. They sang together. Star was filled with a great peace and harmony, and felt a sense of togetherness she had not felt since her last time in a pack.

That evening, her sleep was smooth and easy. She dreamed of all her favorite memories and the beloved friends and family she had made over time. She dreamed of hunting buffalo in open plains, and of sailing over the mountaintops she had always chosen to call home. By the morning, her body had grown still and lost its prior warmth. Her offspring mourned, but the sadness didn't devour them whole, as the passing had been so peaceful, and followed a long and fulfilling existence. They gently carried her small and frail white body to the base of the Sunspire, where she was lovingly buried facing Swiftcurrent Creek. And that night, when they looked into the tapestry of lights above the land, a new star seemed to join the rest in the vast sky above.

Atreus laid in the den in Riverclan, scowling absently at the wall in lieu of sleeping. He’d slept all day and he just wasn’t tired. He was so restless, he pushed up into a seated position and then carefully stood. He felt very weak and it hurt to walk, though he gingerly made his way to the den’s mouth and peered outside.

He spotted the moon right as the first howl drifted to his ears from somewhere to the west. Atreus craned his head that way as another voice joined the first, then another and another. Soon, countless howls filled the night. He blinked, wondering if he knew any of the callers. It was impossible to hear the choristers for the choir.

He didn’t have much strength, nor any particular desire to join the song anyway. But Atreus found himself raising his head a little and lending a brief note to it. He then slouched back into the den, carefully lowering himself to the floor as the chorus continued.

When the howls sounded from every corner of the map, Masquerade couldn’t help it: they listened for their mother’s familiar voice. But was impossible to hear any single caller as all the voices wove together into a seamless melody. Despite their disappointment, the fur on Masque’s body stood on end at the spectral quality of the song. They sensed something extraordinary was happening.

They were usually the type to listen and observe, not join in necessarily. But the preternatural music plucked at something deep inside them, a vibrato that began in their core, then climbed up their throat, past their teeth and tongue and to the stars. Theirs was a deep, sonorous note of camaraderie and kinship with their species.