Bonesplinter Ravine poetry is a way of taking life by the throat

he knows not what drives him ahead,
wind at his back, eyes to his front
as trees pass in a collage of tall slender boughs
with dark, unexplored shadows resting between.


hunger, maybe - or perhaps the settlement of
doom which throttles his shoulders
draping languid as a long black cat
waiting for the perfect moment to leap.


he stops at a tall junction of stone
propped against the westerning sun
sunken now, a red meridian aflame
and feels a shudder as the cold creeps within.

Your writing is beautiful <3

Having spent the last few days either invested in patrolling or playing with the pups, Niamh took some time to herself to investigate the Hinterlands, moseying through the thicket and toward the more craggy, rugged landscape to suss out the movement of prey or activity of wolves in the area. Not long ago there had been whisperings that a new pack might form in the Hinterlands- and Niamh had personally investigated the claim, but it seemed for the moment that those rumours had been quieted. Perhaps her visit had instilled in them the will to found their pack elsewhere...She hadn't exactly been welcoming, after all, but she bore no shame in knowing she might have displaced a fledgeling pack. Instead, it gave her a feeling of pride that stoked her already well-nurtured ego. 

The evenings had begun to reflect the changing of the season, and the nights even more so; though she had yet to notice frost nipping at the leaves, or the changing of colours, she could feel the chill of autumn creeping in every time the sun set. Soon, her coat would thicken and darken slightly, taking on a darker hue of auburn to mingle with her present  coat of gold and cornsilk. A sudden shudder came over her, causing her to shake out her coat in a brief, satisfying twist, and she ran her tongue over her lips and nose so she could better scent the wind. There was another wolf in the area- that much she could tell; but he didn't smell as though he was entangled in the affairs of others, or committed to a pack. Possibly just another wolf passing through the area that would be of no concern to Niamh. Still, she kept her guard up as she passed through the ravine, aware that too much pride could be her downfall.

Thank you and yours is too! Fair warning Maul's first post might have just been a fluke.

the red disc fell and the world with it.
save the rampant chatter of wind
which knows no sleep, like fingers searching
climbs up the spines of stones and mortals alike.


he pauses as a whisper of noise comes.
not wind or leaves, but patter of feet;
and looks up,  met by the molten vision
of soft gold spun as artful as spider's silk.


a wolfish figure, but spartan; sharp
refined as kindness' unnerving blade.
his ears sweep back while a ribbon
of a smile hangs carefully off his poised lips.

As much as she hated to admit it, the days were getting shorter and with that, the shadows longer. Even at noon, her shadow stretched out from beneath her as though trying to escape her slender figure when it should have bathed only her paws in shade. Now, as evening pulled the light from the sky, her shadow stretched far bahind her, leaning back in an odd shape that made her long, slender legs look like something from a Dali painting. 

She caught sight of the loner she'd scented earlier; a husky, dark-pelted fellow, who was shorter than she was, but far more solid in build. Where she was light and willowy, he was compact and heavy; the kind of wolf who could easily overpower her if she ever ended up pinned. A match between them could have been likened to a match between a cheetah and a bear; while Niamh had speed on her side, she knew it wouldn't lend her much of a hand against a foe who had such a strong build. 

But there was no reason to think about that, aside from basic survival instincts- as he gave her a warm smile, which was returned. As much as Niamh thought of herself as a fearless warrior, she would never have chosen this fellow as an opponent willingly- and knew better than to put on too much bravado. Instead, she shifted into a much lighter mode, bearing a much friendlier countenance than she might have had she come upon someone she knew she could take.

she comes closer, watchful. intent.
maul notices the subdued fire stretched around
dark pupils, held up by honey
mostly he just notices scars.

he was not one to let his mind
drift to violence, or utilize cruel predilection
all the same he thinks he sees in her
more predator than woman.

he keeps his impressions to himself
and the smile remains open
a beacon of good faith
or blindness

he wants to say something profound
like "well met" or "hale stranger"
but the words flutter away from him like leaves
and he's left only with

"hello."

To the stranger's kind greeting, Niamh nods, an abrupt but friendly gesture as she nears him. "Heya there," She greeted in return, her tone fairly informal, a bit unusual for her but given the fact they're on neutral territory, she didn't feel terribly pressed to be too business-like. This guy didn't look as though he was going to give her trouble, so she saw no reason to be anything but neutral, with a hint of friendliness. She'd definitely turned a page over the last few months, as she would likely have been more defensive and suspicious of him had she met him mere months ago. 

"I'm Niamh, Gamma of the Redhawks," She said, figuring an introduction was in order. With the introduction of her pack she gestured in the direction of her homeland, both to inform him and perhaps to warn him as well, though she kept any trace of malignant tone out of her voice. "You belong anywhere?" She asked, though she was fairly certain he didn't exactly have a pack.

she talks as pretty as she looks,
or at least maul thinks so.
something seems affable about her, approachable
despite the trained abruptness she carries
which maul suspects is a byproduct of protection
not some ugly, innate quirk.

she motions to a far off empire and his eyes follow
a plateau in the distance,
a home in the distance.

he has no home but he does not long for one
a bed is nice
a woman is nicer

maul has learned these commodities come with a price,
your comfort, your happiness,
your heart.

"i'm maul. gamma of.. well, these leaves about us,
though the wind has been talking of mutiny lately."
he grins a cheeky grin and bows
"i belong nowhere, but was looking for water."

At first, before Niamh allowed him to finish his sentance, she grinned, thinking he was honestly a gamma of another pack- and that would create a bit of an amusing coincidence. He continued, though, to simply state that he was a lone wolf, though the way he delivered the message was clever. He had a sense of humour, and she liked that. He seemed content enough- and Niamh wasn't exactly about to offer him a home simply because he had none- to go and find water, and as that was really the only thing she could do for him, she was happy to do so. 

"Wellen," She said, gesturing with an upwards nod of her muzzle to the wilderness before them, but slightly to the right of the way they were pointed, "Lemme show you to your kingdom," She said, and chuckled softly. "There's a river in this direction, flowing from an alpine lake. Should that be to your taste," She said. The river was not of the same body of water that flowed into the Plateau, so the two of them could easily avoid her homeland even though they would be pointed in the same direction.