disquiet

Kierkegaard · November 24, 2014, 09:34 PM

The towering cliffs had not been as intimidating the first time that the ghastly male had come upon them. It very well could have been because the infection in his leg had eaten away at his common sense. He had not been right in the head. It could easily have been said that he was still cloudy. After the healing process had taken place and he had returned to his natural, hulking, predatory self, Kierkegaard had still managed to make a poor decision – one that he was not prepared for. And that decision was trialing close behind him as he made his way along the base of the cliffs to where Ankyra Sound opened up. She had been good; Signe had followed him from where he had found her beside the river, and she had not opened her small mouth in complaint, not even once.
Lifting his skull upwards, Kierkegaard tossed his ears forward and paused in their trek, waiting until he felt the short tuft of dark fur against his leg. He did not need to turn to know that Signe was still following him. He had faith that she would be there within moments. Drawing in a breath that filled his mouth with a taste of sea salt and brine, the ashen male swallowed heavily. He did not understand how the waif could live so close to such a stench, but he supposed that the mystery of the sound seemed to suit her.
Something in the air had changed, and he could note it as he drew closer to the opening of the pack. The markings along the borders were different than he last recalled. With a confused expression, the ghostly figure lifted his head and called for the female, hoping that she would be in the grotto that she had taken him to before. The rate at which his heart beat seemed to increase, only slightly, as he waited for the yellow-eyed female to arrive.

Caiaphas · November 25, 2014, 07:31 PM

leave it to me to see i was tagged and then forget -.- sorry !!!

From her seclusion in the grotto she heard the familiar voice of Kierkegaard -- sitting upright from her bed of pelts she cast her ears forwards, trying to decipher from the tone the meaning of the call.

She rose from the dark reaches of the tunnel with a purpose in her step -- and as she met the strident air she suckled back in surprise, overwashed by blinding light and cold. Blinking slowly, she struck towards where she had seen Kierkegaard last -- and as she drew closer her steps slowed and a look of confusion clouded her muzzle. He had a shadow -- a living one -- and she pointedly looked at the dark whelp with skepticism to her muzzle.

*Signe* · November 26, 2014, 12:37 PM

She hadn't uttered a word since Kierkegaard had led her away from the riverside where he'd discovered her. Her paw continued to ache, but she didn't dare whine about it; she'd alerted her caretaker to her discomfort and she could only assume that he would help. That's what grownups were for, right?

The sooty girl didn't have the slightest clue where he was taking her, but in her ignorant little mind she knew she would be safe. She had no real understanding of the dangers of the wilderness and the threatening circumstance she'd put herself in. She had no idea that Kierkegaard was just as capable of killing her as he was looking after her.

With her milky blue gaze fixed up ahead, she watched as the burly male stopped abruptly. The whelp wasted no time in hurrying up to him, pressing her tiny form against his right hind leg. Lifting her head to the breeze, she inhaled the strange, unfamiliar scents that hung in the air. Her speckled nose wriggled with curiosity.

Kierkegaard howled for someone, and Signe assumed it was the wolf he'd told her about earlier. Soon enough a dark-furred female drew near them, and Signe peered up into her piercing gaze unabashedly. She kept quiet, waiting for the adults to converse before she made another step or said a word.

Kierkegaard · December 02, 2014, 02:46 AM

Step one in adoptive parenting: do not call your child 'it.'

It was not long before Kierkegaard felt the short bristly fur of the youth against his hind leg. He cast his gaze in Signe’s direction for only a second before the sound of breaking earth seemed to uproot him, and his attention was quickly turned back towards the direction of Caiaphas’ grotto. She had come upon the two wolves much faster than the ashen brute had anticipated. He breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing her sharp gaze, no matter how scrutinizing it may have been. The Sairensu male was no fool. He could sense her apprehension. After all, why would he come to her – shadow at his side – again, after requesting her help once already? Was he infringing on his rights?
Drawing his salmon-colored tongue across his muzzle, the golden-eyed male frowned thoughtfully and lowered his head. He thought, for a fraction of a second, that the waif would turn him away. She was the only wolf within the Teekon Wilds that Kierkegaard had come to trust, though, and so she was his only hope. Fixing his gaze on her, the disheveled male drew his ears forward and attempted to accumulate his thoughts into words. Somehow, he always sounded a little foolish in these efforts.
“Caiaphas,” he rumbled quietly, then motioned with his muzzle towards the inky child at his hind leg, “I found it near the river.” He spoke as though it were an achievement to have picked the small figure up and taken her with him. Furrowing his brows, Kierkegaard realized that he should have picked his words more carefully. This did not tell the dark-furred sea-wolf why he had come beckoning to her borders. A heavy breath fell from his inky lips and loosened his stiff shoulders. “Show Caiaphas your paw,” he then growled to the child with a frown, lifting his leg to scoot her forward. “I don’t know how to mend it,” he then remarked to the yellow-eyed coywolf. Then, something of a helpless expression fell across his ashen features.

Caiaphas · December 02, 2014, 05:50 PM

Caiaphas regarded the ashen male's trophy somewhat distantly, noting it seemed entirely mute. Perhaps the fear of the unknown had kept the dark whelp silent -- or perhaps, she understood the importance of quietude. Caiaphas' gaze flickered over Kierkegaard as he motioned for the youth's paw -- there was a swell of pride in her chest as she correlated his actions: inwardly, the boastful wretch preened herself for being the first to view Kierkegaard's newest acquisition.

She had not forgotten the darkness of the matter, though this did not vanquish the faint look of amusement on her countenance. The questions "who's pup is this?", "where did you get it?" were not even considered in the slightest -- the only thing Caiaphas could think of was how delightfully interesting. With a mild hum she pulled forth to the pup, inspecting her carefully -- and then without comment turned back to the grotto at a fast lope to collect her wares.

*Signe* · December 03, 2014, 10:42 AM

The dark girl regarded the stranger in silence, staring up into those rather spooky yellow eyes unflinchingly. She didn't feel afraid, not with her new friend there to protect her. He'd rescued her from certain death, after all; certainly he would not allow any further harm to be done onto her.

The burly white male at her side spoke to the she-wolf and Signe's ears flicked backwards as he instructed her to show Caiaphas her injured foot. She hesitated only momentarily before taking a few cautious steps forward and holding her aching paw up for the medic to examine. She wasn't sure what was supposed to happen after that, but the pup hoped the grownups would know how to fix her.

Caiaphas drew nearer to inspect her and Signe felt herself fighting the urge to cower away from the woman. Her small limbs trembled slightly as uncertainty gripped her, but she felt herself relax somewhat when Caiaphas darted away towards somewhere unknown. Perplexed, Signe cocked her head up at Kierkegaard, ebony ears flattening against her skull.

Kierkegaard · December 26, 2014, 12:59 AM

<333333!!!!!!!! millions of hearts for the both of you

The beast knew at once that he had made the appropriate decision to take the child to Caiaphas. Kierkegaard was not entirely certain he knew where his peculiar trust in the dark female had come from. Moz aside, the yellow-eyed waif was the only other wolf he had found companionship with. Now, the ashen male was not entirely sure how she felt about all of it. Before, he had sought her out when his injury had worsened, and already he was requiring assistance in the matter of the dark pup that he had willingly toted along with him. It had solely been his decision, and yet the slender female took a swift look at Signe’s paw before she flitted away to her mysterious grotto. Confident that she would soon return, the Demonte-Sairensu male regarded the pup with a firm nod of his head.
“You are behaving well,” he spoke in a low rumble, flicking the tip of his tail for the inky child. Signe had managed to impress the male with her ability to keep up and stay quiet. If nothing else, as long as she kept these two traits, she was certain to succeed. Kierkegaard would be sure of that.
Dark lips curled downwards in a frown at the cold snip of wind that crept up his spine. Blinking against the chill, the brute cast his golden gaze at where he had last seen Caiaphas disappear. His faith in her abilities did not falter. He would have waited until darkness fell for the coywolf to return to them. And he already knew that the dark female at his paws would remain with him for that duration as well. His choice to take her was wise. The ghostly figure did not see how it could turn sour.

Caiaphas · (This post was last modified: January 30, 2015, 09:02 PM by Caiaphas.)

In moments Caiaphas emerged from the hollowed den, her neck inverted and steps ginger as she procured forth a heavy tow of seaweed and clay in her pitch jaws. She stepped towards the pup and quite suddenly unloaded her burden at the small creature's feet -- and with a flickering motion of her tail stepped backwards to give both the ashen male and his charge space in which to detail the wound with clay and weed.

"Use the kelp to wrap her paw, and carry her home before her parents come to find you. If you carry her, they cannot detect her with you. This time, I cannot extend my welcome." The crone-like creature uttered this quite suddenly, her fierce gaze resting on the black whelp. She did not elaborate any further -- though her decision was driven largely by the suspicion this pup would cause uproar and discord among her own two captive youths. She did not wish to complicate their upbringing -- not when both had been showing such great promise. It was an edict she was unwilling to rescind, yet she was certain the large male would understand.

She would wait then for the two to shuffle about and reposition the crude kelp -- and she would watch, in silence, as the two departed. It would be some time before she saw Kierkegaard again, she assumed -- and she was surprised by the pang of loneliness that suddenly struck her.