Ghost Lion Crag And the rain

ooc: 29th December

Following along the river had been a good idea. When Wraen had got out of the half-frozen bog, the sound of the rushing and flowing water had grown stronger and soon she had arrived to the source of it - a waterfall. Parts of had surrendered to the cold temperatures, creating beautiful ice formations, but here and there the creek and streams refused to give up and were still stubbornly running their course. It was a relief to drink the water instead of eating snow and it was joy to be here and imagine that perhaps she had been the first to discover this place. 

After a brief rest, Wraen had continued her journey, following the stream up North and eventually came to a valley that was surrounded by very tall cliffs. Though never much  of a geologist, the rocks here looked very similar to those she had encountered at Moonspear and this was a sign that perhaps she was nearing her home. Another lucky event happened an hour later, when she stumbled upon and scared a young mountain-lion, who had been about to begin his lunch. The cat hissed and scampered away, leaving Wraen a freshly killed hare. 

She wasted no time - having been famished for few days, she attacked the small white-coated creature and five minutes later there was nothing left of it. To be sure that there was nothing left, she spent some time, sniffing the snowy ground, but then lied down and began to groom her paws. It felt wonderful not to be hungry any longer.

The two siblings had trekked through enough of the wilds to have grown sick of it. Smokestep was growing anxious with the need to be closer to the coast. He knew that he was destined to reach it – that the smell was a sign that he was drawing closer. But he wasn't listening to his rational mind as much as he should have been. Sandpiper had done well to keep him on track, but he had taken to traveling ahead of her some ways. He had been hoping to catch a clear path to the sea, but instead came upon the scent of an unfamiliar wolf. Impulsive and brash, Kingfisher followed after the scent for a short distance.

The seafarer believed that he had kept himself far enough away from his prey, but he caught the scent of blood in the air and his pace quickened. The rocks tumbled from beneath his paws. His long legs carried him like stilts; each stride was more stretched than the last. It was not long before he came upon the figure of the wolf and the remains of prey that would not remain for more than a few moments.

Smokestep slowed his pace and then finally fell to a stop, not too far from where the stranger had finished her meal. He watched with a mismatched gaze, saying nothing. She sniffed the ground for any remainders of her meal before he lowered herself to the earth to clean her bloodied figure. Still, he watched.

Wraen was nibbling out some dirt between her toes, when she sensed that she was being watched. Slowly - not to show the slightest sign of fear - she put the foot down and cast a glance around to see, whether the mountain lion had decided to return for it's meal. If it had - she was in trouble. 

It hadn't, but Wraen could not tell, if seeing another wolf in the distance, was something to feel relieved about. After all, there were so called cannibals and if this was a such, then it would get a two in one meal, quite literally. What to do, what to do, what to do... She thought, looking first past the tall figure, then in the opposite direction. Running was always an option. But she would need a serious head-start in order to outrun that guy. 

Eventually she got to her feet, shook her coat and remained standing, regarding the stranger with a wary gaze.

The wolf stirred, but Smokestep did not move from his position. His heterochromatic gaze followed her movements lazily until she stood upright and watched him with a wary glint to her eyes. He had missed a great opportunity to catch the tail end of a meal, so the seafaring soul remained to see if he could get anything else from the stranger. She did not appear as though she was foolish enough to let him approach without good reason. Flicking his tongue across his muzzle, the ghost took a few careful steps in her direction before pausing and lifting his head upward. His dark lips curled at the edges, providing him with a crooked leering expression. His tail flagged twice before returning to sit midway between his hocks. They appeared like two statues for a moment, trapped in time.

“Ahoy, lass,” he woofed in a quiet tone. One ear swiveled atop his crown, but he did not move aside from this. She had yet to speak to him, but he imagined that this was because he had startled her. They were relatively alone, after all. But she no longer had a meal at her feet, and had become less likely to be attacked for that very reason. Still, Kingfisher watched her with a squint to his gaze – his lopsided smirk had not wavered.

Funny, how it was with people. Some were in the category "Wraen could befriend even a rock", others were "Wraen is suspicious and fearful". At the moment the tall, pale guy was in the second category. All four feet and head, only the tail was still out, just in case the first impressions turned out to be wrong. 

He approached and with every step he took in her direction, Wraen inadvertently took just the same number backwards, thus letting him be in charge of the situation. Had she been just as tall or maybe just as muscular as her brother Terance, she would have stood her ground. Now even the defence tactics he had told her, were tucked away in her mind just too conveniently to be of any immediate use. 

In response to his greeting, she gave him a quick and elusive smile, but did not say anything. Then - to ease the tension that was building up - she moved side-ways, sniffing the ground intently, as if having found something very, very interesting.

The female retreated with each step that he took toward her. She remained wary of him, watching with a keen expression. The pale brute slowed his pace, watching her with a calculating expression. He wasn't sure that this would result in anything other than the she-wolf taking off, resulting in a chase. Smokestep was not entirely sure he wanted to race through the snow after some stranger. Still, he was good at pushing buttons and he made an effort to see just how close he could get before he stopped.

Perhaps she was more interested in being helpful, he thought. Flattening his ears to his crown, the marauder lowered his head a few inches and lifted a single paw into the air. He held his position, appearing as safe as he possibly could. The ghost's eyes danced with the light of a trickster and thief. He knew defensive maneuvers when he saw them. Still, he tried his best to appear less threatening; he hoped this would allow her to open up.

“Aye forgive me, lass... do ye know how one might get to the sea?” he inquired with a toothy expression. “Me sister and I have been searchin' for days.” It wasn't a lie, but the brute knew well enough how to return to the ocean. He was born and bred from it. The swell and sea foam were as much a part of him as the coarse white fur along his back. Though this she-wolf was appearing to make herself busy, Smokestep was intent to press the issue. 

The stranger seemed to have grasped Wraen's uneasiness with the situation, but at the same time he did not go away. The way he regarded her, conveyed the message that he clearly needed something. What could it be - was beyond Wraen - there was no food, the lands weren't claimed and she did not look like someone, who lived here permanently. 

He approached her slowly and Wraen - just as carefully and what appeared to be effortlessly, walked few steps to the side, her nose still to the ground, but the gaze that was fixed on the stranger, betrayed her lack of interest. She was wary and it did not help to feel comfortable, if the other just stood there and watched her. 

He broke the silence, however, and Wraen looked up, listening to his inquiry and taking her time to reply. "I am not sure, but you might want to head North. A day's or two worth of walk and you should hit the oceanside," she replied as confidently as she could, though she had no idea, how long did it actually take one to go to the shores from here. "Why do you want to go there?"

Though he may have grasped the uneasiness that had washed over Wraen, Smokestep was not likely to depart without getting what he was looking for. His eyes remained glued to her frame and he looked over her like a prize waiting to be won. The seafarer's tongue lashed against his lips once more and he felt his stomach stir. Still, she made an effort to put space between them. Kingfisher watched her intently as she did this, testing the limitations that she was setting by moving this way and that to draw himself closer than he had been. For every sideways step that she took, he continued to press forward in a long-legged and casual pace. The ghost did not want her to flee, which would be likely if he continued to attempt to invade her space. Then again, Smokestep loved a chase.

Surprised that she would actually respond to his inquiry, the brute's ears stiffened and pulled forward. She provided some relatively accurate directions for him. At this, Kingfisher's mouth curled in a cheery and mischievous smirk. At least he had gotten something out of her, and though it was small, her directions were followed with a question of her own. It was personal enough that he was surprised that she had allowed herself to ask it, but he was also grateful because she seemed as though her interest had been peaked.

Lifting his tail in a single wave, the marauder nodded his head slowly. “Well thank ye for those fine directions, miss. I shouldn't have trouble finding me way, now,” he offered, sweeping his gaze to the landscape for a brief moment before offering to answer her inquiry. It was simple, really, and so he could only offer her the truth. After all, she did not know of him yet; she did not know of his reputation and she wouldn't for some time. Still, he wanted them to know that the Cairn blood had returned to the wilds. He wanted them all to know that Skellige's brood had drifted back to reign over the bay once more.

“I was born there, lass. I've come to reclaim me home.”

Wraen was not so sure about, how fine her directions had been - either the guy really had no idea, how to get, where he wanted, or he was simply polite. It was a little consolation for her that he would very likely meet another wolf along the way, who would be able to give more precise instructions. With this in mind, she shook her coat and forgot about the matter.

"You are not the first wolf I have met recently, who wants to establish a pack," Wraen told, recalling Pago, who she had met few weeks ago. She had not seen, met or caught his scent ever since their nightly encounter, but she hoped that he was doing well. "If you were born there - what made you leave your home?" she shouldn't have been surprised, having left her birthplace - Donnelaith - at the age of three months and having traveled for almost a year, until her parents settled down again.

The pirate listened as the female continued to explain that she had come across others who were attempting to establish their own packs. This did not phase him; he was monumentally unconcerned with the prospect of such wolves and did not imagine that they would pose a realistic threat to his plans. The ghostly figure was prepared to fight, should he find anyone having inhabited his rightful home. He was certain that Sandpiper would be eager to sink her teeth into any who would have thought they could overtake the bay. Smokestep would not know until he had arrived, though.

The woman's next question came at some bit of a surprise to the seafarer. She had asked why he had left his home if he had been born to it. Frowning thoughtfully, the ghostly figure swished his tail once and turned his eyes from the girl. “I didn't have much of a choice. Me father took me and me sister when we were just little things,” he explained to her. For a moment, Smokestep stiffened at the thought of having been pulled from his home, but he forced his shoulders to shrug and cast his bi-colored optics back to the stranger.

Kingfisher had been taken so that he could learn the true ways of the Cairn wolves. He had been pulled from the black rock so that he might learn the meaning of founding his own claim and fighting for it. Skellige had taught him many things, but the most valuable was what his blood meant. Smokestep may have carried the name of a pirate, but he would never forget his roots.

"Happened to me as well," Wraen replied after hearing his answer and wondering as well, what would have her childhood been like, had she and her family stayed in Donnelaith. It was a pity that none of the wolves, who had once been the core of her birth pack, lived in the old location and therefore it was hard to imagine, whether she would have grown up to be a different wolf than she was now. 

"Where exactly do you plan to found your pack?" since the stranger did not ask any question of his own, she felt that she had to keep the conversation going. "So that my packmates know, once I return home."

Ah, so they shared something of a common ground. The pale hound was surprised by this, but did not think it appropriate that he remark on the particular subject of removal. He had learned more valuable lessons from his father in their absence than he ever believed he could within the wilds. The wild-haired youth had been trained for his moment, and he was not going to disappoint. He wondered for a fleeting moment if this woman had endured much of the same heartache when she had been pulled from her birth home. The pale brute also wondered if she planned on returning herself, or if she had accepted her fate and resigned to rebuilding somewhere else.

A question struck his ears and the corsair turned his skull to her sharply. “On the bay,” he answered swiftly, surely. “Beside the edges o' the burned wood.” Though the sentinels were a desolate wasteland, there would come a time when the foliage would return and it would find its lush life from the earth below. Until then, Smokestep imagined that it would stand as a silent, decrepit guardian over the Ironsea crew.

“An where is it yer from, lass? Where do ye wish to relay this information?” he inquired after a moment. The hound wished to know where she would be taking the information.

The burned wood? Wraen furrowed her brow, because she did not know of the place that had recently been touched by fire in the vicinity of Moonspear. The Blacktail deer plateau did not count, because it was not located on the coast and the incident had happened a very long time ago. 

"Moonspear," she replied. "It's a tall mountain located a day's journey away from the coast." The measurements of distance were not precise, because, if the wolf knew the area very well and was quite quick, it took less time to reach the ocean. "And your name is?" she asked next, knowing that her leaders would want to know the head of their future neighbours.

The name of her pack was not familiar to him – through personal experience or through stories from his father – so the pallid creature nodded his head a bit and tucked Moonspear in the back of his mind for a later time. Though he had not entirely intended to follow the steps of his father, Skellige had told the boy that forging alliances was the wisest decision he had made when ruling the bay. Now, Smokestep respected his father but he was a young pirate and a renegade of a hound. He believed only in the prospects of his crew and their worth. With this, he would hold fast to the mountain pack that she had spoken of and would perhaps pay her a visit at a later time. She was a fine woman, after all.

Another inquiry fell from her lips and the seafaring brute swiveled his ears to meet it. She requested his name. A smile curved the corners of his lips and the young hound bowed his torso in a dramatic fashion before returning his gaze to her own. “Me name's Smokestep. An' yerself?”

"Wraen - it is a pleasure," the young she-wolf replied, dipping her muzzle politely and offering Smokestep a sincere smile. Now that she had introduced herself as a Moonspear wolf, she guessed that she had to be a good embassador of her pack. And being nice and showing good manners was the first step in that direction.

"You said you were going in the direction of the coast?" she asked, trying to remember, whether he had mentioned this earlier or it was her own wishful thinking - she needed to hit the waterline in order to make the right turn towards her home. "Care to accompany for a while? I got lost few days ago and do not fancy for that to happen again."

The green-eyed Wraen was polite, and he appreciated as much. Her fine form allowed him a chance to get a better idea of where he and Sandpiper were intended to be. Her companionship did not bother him, and so when her inquiry about traveling together had come up, the pallid brute nodded his head a bit and cast her another crooked smile that crinkled the side of his face into a comical expression. Of course, he knew that his sister would not enjoy such an addition to their temporary crew, but she would have to deal with it. Alliances were better to start an empire on, and Smokestep knew that he could not raise his crew with enemies at their backs from the very start.

“Aye, lass – o' course ye can travel with us,” he assured her swiftly. “Me sister Sandpiper is a bit prickly though,” the pirate then warned with a flashing wink of his silver optic. “Ye best just treat her like a nasty lil' sea urchin and ye'll be fine.” It was all the warning that he could afford the woman, but he figured that it would be enough to give her a rough idea as to the type of companionship she was about to find herself in.

Casting his muzzle back a ways to where his sister probably was, the pallid brute then motioned with his skull in the direction they would go. “Ye ready, then?”

Would you like to continue or fade in your next post?

A sister? Wraen furrowed her brow and cast a fleeting glance around the landscape. It was not a comfortable feeling to find out that there might have been an invisible spectator all this time. She spotted no one and after giving a brief questioning glance at Smokestep, she decided to trust him and his judgement of his sibling.

"A sea urchin?" she picked up, where the conversation had been left at, and fell easily in step with her companion. "What kind of animal is it?"

mm i am enjoying this thread but we could probably fade in the next two posts or so <3

 

Smokestep had mentioned Sandpiper upon showing up; he could recall mentioning her as he had asked for directions from the woman. Still, being approached by a stranger in the wood could come as a bit alarming to anyone who was unsuspecting. So, he did not quite understand the questioning expression that she had cast his way, but he supposed that Wraen would meet his salty sibling in just a short while. The two Cairn children had only split up for the last couple of miles, after all, and had every intention of meeting each other again.

When the green-eyed woman inquired about his sibling, or the sea urchin – he wasn't at all sure which one she had been referring to – he looked at her with a few genuine blinks of confusion. “Me sister? She's a wolf, lass, just like ye and meself,” he remarked with smirk and a wink. “I say she's a sea urchin because they're prickly lil nasty things that stick into ye if yer not careful in the water.” Perhaps that sort of a response would clear things up for her. He did talk an awful lot and always managed to confuse those involved or himself in that process.

We can go on as well.

"Oh - I have never heard about those guys," Wraen replied, wondering, how many times had she swum or played in the water without realizing that there were prickly things hiding there, waiting for the right moment to stab her in the foot? From now on she was going to be more careful, though, who knew, what other unknown things hid in the depths of water - maybe they were even worse than the first one. 

Therefore it seemed reasonable to ask more about this matter to a wolf, who obviously was more familiar with doings of the sea than Wraen herself was. "What else is there in the water to look out for - sea monsters?"

Wraen mentioned that she had never learned or come upon sea urchins. This was surprising for Smokestep, but he assumed that she hadn't spent a great deal of time in the water to have learned of them. When he had been younger, he had learned a very difficult lesson about the creatures that lived in the sea. The corsair had learned to respect their dangers, and to know that they had a very real chance to take his life. It was not a lesson he wanted to share with his newest form of companionship. Instead, he smiled at her response. “Yer not missin' out on much,” he told her with a playful wink.

The woman then asked about what other kinds of creatures would dwell beneath the swell. The pirate had a flair for the dramatics, so he cast her a more serious furrowing of his brows and nodded solemnly. “Aye, yer right there. Leviathans an' krakens. But ye'll likely never see 'em. They lurk in the deepest darks o' the water,” he weaved a tale of all the things that had been spun into his head as a child, hoping that they would latch to her and fabricate images of unfathomable creatures in the deep.

"I know Leviathans! They are sea-dragons right?" Wraen's face lit up, because, if there was a deparment of mythology, where she was very close to be an expert, then it was dragons. Having been her favorite beasts as a kid (a passion passed on from her mother, who had been fighting dragons with her siblings during childhood), she had bugged her mom to tell all she knew and had memorized all details meticulously. 

"Ever heard about the Jormungandr - the big snake - and it's southern cousin Apep?" she asked, since these two beasts were also associated with water, even if they weren't dragons.

Wraen knew of the Leviathans! Smokestep was impressed by this, for most that he had spoken to – aside from his crew – were unaware of the monsters that lurked in the depths. This green-eyed beauty, though, seemed to know well enough about the wild creatures. His eyes were alight with joy at the prospect and his mouth stretched in a wide grin that showed his teeth. “Aye, that's right,” he confirmed with a swift bob of his head, tail flagging behind him pleasantly.

The girl asked him if he knew of two distinct sea creatures, and he was surprised when he did not know of the latter. The pirate squinted his eyes and turned to look at her with an incredulous expression. “Jormungandr, I do know o',” he responded with a thoughtful frown. “Tell me more about this Apep fella? Wot's he like?” Smokestep was eager to know more about the waters and the creatures that hid in the darkest portions. All of his life he had heard tale of the Leviathans and many of the cousins, but he knew that there had to be more. Perhaps it was fate that he should cross paths with Wraen that day.

"Apep is a huge snake that lives in the sea," Wraen began, raking her memory to find the right file about this mythical beast. There had been a lot more to than she had just revealed, however, the problem being that Jormungandr - the northern beast - was pretty much similar in it's ways. And it also had some mighty god fighting against it over and over again.

"There are so-called sun-worshippers and it's not hard to guess, what their main object of religion is. Anyway - Apep is the mortal enemy to this head god, some saying that in the past he has been the ruler of the world and being banished to the underground, when the head god ascended to it's throne," that was about right, except the name of the sun god had escaped her.

"Anyway, when the sun god reaches the horizon, he enters the world of the sea, where the dark beast is waiting for him. Every night they fight and the sun-worshippers say that on the day, when the sun won't rise, this would mean that Apep has won," there was more regarding the solar eclipses and Apep's role in it, but she was not very sure of the facts. 

"Though I should not symphasize with the lord of darkness and all evil - I kind of understand his cause. I mean, someone has to remind the almighty gods that there are forces to be reckoned with."

The pirate listened as she wove a tale of sun-gods and powerful beings of darkness. She did well to take him to a completely different world in her story, and for the first time in a very long time he was as quiet as could be. Both ears were trained to the words that fell from her lips. He waiting until she was done before he turned his head away and processed the small load of information. All of it had interested the corsair, but he had been born and bred to listen to tales of the sea and so he anticipated that this was where his desire to learn more had come from. Regardless, he found the story of Apep to be entrancing, and he turned his attention to the sky to wonder if the tale were true. Of course, the sun seemed to rise every day, but Smokestep was intrigued by the prospect of it never rising again.

“I get that, I do,” he agreed with her last statement with a flashing and toothy smile. “Yer story o' Apep reminds me o' me father. He's a wild dark man, he is. I think he could sink the sun and I wouldn't be at all surprised,” he then added with a small laugh and a slow shake of his head. Of course, Wraen didn't know Skellige and the thought was probably lost on her, but he decided to offer it anyway. “Have ye heard 'bout the Charybdis?” Smokestep then inquired with an eager glance toward her.

A wolf that would want to sink the sun reminded her of a different pair of mythical creatures Skoll and Hati, who were chasing the sun and moon. When they accomplished their task - a hell on Earth would break loose. Wraen was about to mention them to Smokestep, when he asked her about sea-dwelling monster from a different story. 

She furrowed her brow, sure that she had heard the name before and that the monster had definitely had a pal. And this was, where the history for this saying came from. "Choosing between two evils?" Wraen spoke out loud. "I know that your guy is definitely bound to this expression, but the exact story has escaped my memory. Do tell?"