Blackwater Islands Of whit and measure

Ash Paw slid into the sandy beaches, the islands of the water poked out like long lost friends. She crooned at them. Eyes on the prize, there were other's here, she could smell them, one lone male @Ingram seemed to hang the longest. But she smelled no more.

Perhaps one day he had a claim, but she was determined to be better than any before. Atka/Sos ahd told her so. Grandmother had told her, to pick one, only one, but she could not decide who she preferred. The Bear of white or the bear of black and it was with these thoughts that she slid through the water. 

Thoughts racing, wondering were there sirens here? She searched the coast for Sedna's tendrils of hair. Clear by the ragged pieces of kelp that lay along the flat lands.

tags for reference! <3

with their nightwife emerged from her isolation, the dreadfather returns to their patrols with renewed vigor. faith in @The Listener has always been strong, but now it feels stronger yet. somehow. impossibly. they would rebuild; together. druids would come back or new ones would find their way to them. if there was one thing the dreadfather is certain of: it is this.

the void does not lie and that was the largest lesson their isolation within the voidworld for centuries had taught them.

the whispers of its inhabitants were prophecies: threadlings of irrevocable truth.

a stranger's form catches their attention on the shore: littered with seaweed, frothing seafoam, and debris — even small crabs that scuttled to and fro: though whether they were trying to return to or escape the sea's greedy waves the dreadfather could not be sure.

nevertheless, their attention did not linger upon such trivial things.

a low chuff was given to garner the stranger's attention.

A low chuff was heard and mottled black and tawny head was lifted as she stared at the new intrusion upon her mission. A wolf in colors of different types a bit like she herself, though different. She frowned and studied him, and chuffed back. 

She shifted and trotted towards him, though she was mindful to stay away. You there. Do you braid the hair of Sedna? Or give sacrifice to the great bears ATKA and SOS?

She peered at him with curiosity and wonderment. She was not as her grandmother had been, as her auntie. She was not a soft spoken scared thing. She believed in greater things. There were great bears to watch over her. Why worry when there were mermaids and sirens and Krakens in the deeps. 

She turned from him and grasped a couple pieces of seaweed. Laying it side by side, she began to braid them, teeth over one to the other. Paw at the top, pull it tight. She would put it around her neck. Use a claw to make a hole in a shell, it would be wondrous.

the dreadfather is able to garner her attention with their chuff; for a moment he simply looks at her: assessing quickly, watching as she draws nearer. they do not move, their chin lifted to enunciate that they are the one in charge, even as she asks questions. a small twitch of their lips is given, a want to reprimand: to let her know that they ask the questions but ...they do not speak on it. they could humor her, for a moment.

i am the dreadfather, they offer simply; a low rumble. i know of no sedna, no atka or sos. the only gods to be found on these islands were them and their nightwife. they watch, bemused as she turns and begins to twist the seaweed strips she finds in an interesting way. what was the purpose, they wonder, but again do not ask. what is your name? a demand disguised as a question.

He garnered her attention for a moment and then lost it. He was not as important as the bears or Sedna. No.

He tried to show he was in charge, but she had not recognized hims as such. He had claimed this land before maybe, but it was scattered broken now. She frowned in thought. Her father had taught her to be respectful, but the truth was sometimes she forgot so intent upon missions. So she turned back to the male.

Dreadfather she tried out the name. Didn't care for it. Her father was father, not this one. It made no sense to her. Her eyes lit up and her tail wagged.

She spoke hushed and reverered. Atka is god of light, courage, wisdom truth. To name a few. Sos god of darkness, greed and vanity among others. Sedna is vengeful she is beneath the sea, she is appeased by hair braiding.

Ash Paw, i followed my auntie at a distance to keep her safe as she went on her journey to die. Now I seek my own fortunes. 

Thistle had know she was there at a distance, but they didnt acknowledge each other. And Thistle had died without her. Her aunts journey was not hers, she was merely meant to get her here. No words needed said about or to the two.

the lapse of the stranger's attention irks the dreadfather, who demands the respect of the voidcommander, of the daedric prince that they were. the thought was brief to let it snake away, betwixt their fangs but petty, they decide to bite down upon it. to let the annoyance fester. just because the druids had fled did not mean that this was not still their home. it was. it will be. always.

they care not for the gods she speaks of in revered and hushed tones. they ignore, focusing only when she offers her name and explination. it was ...not satisfying but as it was all they had to work with they have no choice but to begrudgingly accept it.

these islands are the home of the druids. they explain. they are my home. and if you cannot show me proper respect when i am speaking to you, i suggest finding your fortunes elsewhere. their words are cold, cutting. they will not accept disrespect and as the proper blood has yet to be spilt to christen their awakening: their discontent and anger only grows.

I apologize in advance. I didn't quite realize she was going to be so difficult. I had hoped she could make a home here, but the way she's acting. Lol I am fine with attacking if he would, but no killing or permanently maiming. We shall see how this goes.

Ash paws was not a wolf that worried so much about the past. She loved her gods, had been sheltered and was learning about herself. She was a bit flighty at times, and hard to hold down, but if you garnered her respect. She was loyal. However, she wasn't certain how she felt about the dreadfather. He seemed to think he deserved something that he had not earned, and that was her time, her respect and her praise.

He had asked her, her name. She had given it. What other information he would want, he would have to ask. Speak plainly or not at all, she would often tell people. Perhaps that was callous and rude, but she found she didn't quite care. Atka and Sos would protect her, and if her life was forfeit it was at the pleasure of one of the bears.

Ash Paw looked at him curiously. Head titled, then down to the ground she looked and back.  I only smell you and one other. There is not enough to lay a claim. You demand my respect simply because you are under the false delusion that you are a ruler. There are no rulers only Atka and SOs. There are leaders, certainly. Those that would command my respect, were they to have a holding to their name.

She took a breath and shifted her weight. I will give respect when it is earned. You clearly have no interest in me or mine, if you had I would have paid better attention to you as well.

they were in no mood to quarrel; knowing and holding fast to their own worth whether anyone else saw it or not. these islands were their's and they were not about to let some interloper disrespect them upon their own sands.

a low warning growl slips from betwixt their lips; hackles bristling.

atka and sos will find no home on these islands, and neither will you lingers in between their words. spoken despite that you have been barely paying me any attention from the moment i came across you. you've been churlish from the beginning. but they suspect that their words will only meet the resistance of speaking to a tree.

there is more than one island here, they speak with a curl of their lip. there are others in isolation. it wasn't technically a lie ...even if it was their shadowchildren they speak of.

leave these islands. the dreadfather stalks nearer, threat in every deliberate moment they make. before i make you a blood sacrifice to the void. the only chance she'd be given to leave without blood spilling; a moment of control over the screaming demand for blood.

Ash paw had not wanted a fight today. Especially given that this wolf was quite larger than her. However, she was also not in the wrong. She had not wandered upon some land chosen. He lived here yes, but he had no claim, as far as she saw as of yet. So she returned the growl. Her own hackles raising and her eyes flashing dangerously as she drew herself upwards. Her tail lashed. She could have walked away, but he had done the wrong thing as soon as he spoke of her beloved gods.

You have no say of where Gods lay to roost you asinine upstart. I was not rude. I was intent upon something I was doing. Surely you know what faith is, what intention is.

She stalked in a circle, out of his reach, but growling and snarling punctuated her words. I am rude? You who mocked my gods just now. Do i mock you? NO I do not.

There are many islands yes, but I am at this one, and you have no claim. You who stands upon a kingdom of ruin. Want to mock and belittle and send away. 

She snorted. You are just as foolish as i Thought, proving to me that you don't deserve my respect. You earned nothing, but disfavor. That is why your have this valley of nothing. You thought you deserved something you did not and if you treated your precious underlings this way. It is no wonder. She left the sentence unfinished. 

She did not know the whole story, but even she could smell the stale air of wolves that were no longer here. He walked like he was leader, and perhaps he had been once upon a time, but he was no more. If his attitude had not chased them away then his surly growl surely would have. What a fool. He did not a good leader make. 

She glared at him. How dare he, threaten her as a blood sacrifice of any but Atka and Sos. How dare he belittle and cajole, because she didn't pay him the proper respect that he thought he deserved. He was deserving of nothing.

Foolish Dreadfather you are.

she rants at them like a child — though they would argue that their shadowchildren react better — buzzing about like a bothersome fly. testing the limits of their patience, spouting out her assumptions which were not true.

ingram had never been a leader. it had not been his position and the dreadfather's coming had been recent and too late. the druids had begun to disperse before that. but she couldn't possibly know that.

for a wild hairsbreadth of a moment, the dreadfather was amused; at her lecturing, at her spewed words that did not at all explain the story here.

their amusement, unfortunately, is snuffed out as suddenly as a choked flame.

hold your tongue, pup. snarls the dreadfather. i am a daedric prince. a god. worshipped and feared since the dawning of time. within and without the void. so many lifetimes, many of them not remembered, but that was the void. thick and choking and taking. but it was home ...in the way that this realm had become their home as well. you speak dribble of a situation you do not understand.

their only warning having been given, their patience recedes and they lunge at her, eager to spill blood and chase her from his islands.

Perhaps there was a sense of childlike naiviety in her thoughts and passions. Perhaps, she would grow with time, wisdom and a sharper way to hold her tongue, but that time was not today. And she was both elated and deluded by her belief in her gods. 

Her lip wrinkled over her maw. I am no pup, foolish father.

Suddenly she is amused, and a choked laugh interrupts her snarl and then another. You a god. And me a mother. You spew nothing but lies. You are no god. A deluded male with no brain to speak of, is what you are.

Ash Paw meets him with teeth and claws. Her own fury ignited at his mockery, at his claim to be a god. No one can be a god. That is blasphemy, heresy, he is tainted by that with which he has no reason to speak on. She throws a prayer to Sos and throws herself into the fray. He will taste her anger and choke on it.

She was smaller than he, so she was able to duck and aim for his chest and under his chin. She did not want his throat. She did not wish to kill him, just point out his injustices and his false lies. Usurper. Heathen. Blasphemer.

I'm only doing hp for 20 just a quick little spat and then separation. I rolled a ten, tabletop in discord. HP 20/20

HP: 10/20 — rolled a 2 via discord tabletop.

they are done with words.

her spit words bounce off of them as if they were the unrelenting waves: refusing to hear what she was saying ( even if there was undeniable truth to them ).

her teeth splicing the flesh of their chin. the scent of blood is metallic, filling their nostrils, warm spreading against their fur, crimson dripping upon the sand.

but if feeds their bloodlust; the void thrumming in their veins, the battle screams of the trillions of dead loud in their ears as they lunge forward again; determined to make some sort of contact.

HP: 18/20 apparently the maiden likes 2, because I rolled one as well.

Ash screeches in outrage as his teeth connect and leave a scratch across her once pristine face. The only thing at the moment she has going for her, is her speed. He snaps again and she evades. Blood is falling. The scent mettalic in the air, and on her tongue. Tastes like victory and song.

She lashes at him again, going for his face, his eyes, the fleshy part of his nose. Dangerous to be so close to thrashing jaws, but she is beyond a care now. Sos will protect her or they won't, but she will prove to this one, that he is wrong. At the very least do not mock others religions when you have no understanding.

HP: 8/20 ; rolled: 4

the scrap was fairly useless: they want her gone and they refuse to play by whatever fast and loose rules that had been wordlessly set; but they are also largely amused: that she was so easy to rile even if her disobedience burrow beneath their skin like an unwanted parasite.

all was fair in war, after all.

honor had no place here.

her teeth find purchase against his flesh and the dreadfather laughs; reveling in the pain, in the blood. enthralled by the fight, by the adrenaline pulsing thru their veins as they snap back; teeth gnashing, seeking to splice her own flesh.

HP: 14/20 ; rolled: 8

Ash Paw returned the bites and the growls and the cuts as good as she got. Large blunt claws carved into her shoulder and blood welled out. But again her speed saved her from deep wounds. Though she was not kind to him. Though she was certain she saw almost a glimmer of something in his gaze, that perhaps he didn't hate her. She did not hate him, merely wished to show him his wrongs.


He laughs at the pain and it turns her stomach just a bit. What kind of wolf was this? Though he was fascinating all the same. She growled again. And threw a paw forward hoping to connect with his throat or his face, not kill, but remove him from her sight. If she could just cause enough pain.

they are rusty. embarrasing.

that they are bested by her is rubbing salt in the wound that would surely fester. but for now, they can feel that they have pushed their body to the limit; in the strain of muscles, in the sting of spliced flesh.

they withdraw, a low growl slipping from betwixt their lips.

i will go to my nightwife, and when i return, i expect you to be gone from these islands. a glower is sent her way. next time, i will not hold back. a threat covered in honey.

ingram's exit! feel free to either wrap up or archive as is. <3