i had seen the submarine.

Harlyn · October 30, 2014, 06:45 PM

Harlyn had been intoxicated with the Spine since her arrival, and while she was desperate to know every inch of the land and every one of its inhabitants, the outside world still called to her. Finally, she heeded its call, if only to get to know the land that housed the herds her pack often preyed upon. The Cinderloch had come from a pack that was very in tune with the natural world, and though they had never named the forest spirits as their gods, they had always adhered to the heave and tow of the natural world with a reverence akin to worship.

And so, her heart thrummed with the desire to know the land more than she wanted to know even her own kind. To her, wolves were servants of the natural world, and also to all of its creatures. Harlyn's gaze swept across the land to the trees that bordered the near horizon. She had been told that this forest was called the Heartwood. It was an older wood than her Spine, judging by the sparsity of the leaves and the number of knots upon their trunks.

In only a few minutes, she had closed the distance between herself and the woods. One tree stood out to her beyond the others, and it was to this gnarled old beast that she approached. The Cinderloch gazed upon it solemnly, shutting her eyes after a moment to silently request its forgiveness for impeding upon its space. She stepped up to it shortly after and leaned the side of her head against it, pressing her ear upon the cool bark and then again shutting her eyes, listening for whatever tales it would tell.

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Kierkegaard · October 30, 2014, 07:20 PM

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The leg still ached. The ashen brute had trudged through his time of treating the wound and preventing the infection from spreading or getting worse. Slowly, he was noting a difference. His movement was less restricted. The leg still hurt him, but he was not entirely useless. Still, the Sairensu wolf knew that it would require more time. He was not a patient creature, and so he did not remain dormant. In his mind, stretching the muscle and keeping himself active would save him more pain later on. The brute of a creature could hardly muddle through it, though.
Kierkegaard had taken to roaming outside of Ouroboros Spine. The surrounding areas were not difficult for him to maneuver through and they seemed relatively secluded. He had enjoyed the silence. More than that, however, Kierkegaard had noticed a difficulty hunting. His injury had kept him away from wandering prey and had forced him to survive – on his own – on fish. Because of this, his figure was gaunt and ghastly in appearance. His once brutish form had been diminished to ragged bones and flyaway fur along his neck and shoulders. The ashen creature feared that he would never be able to hunt the way he had before.
Taking to the woods, the large male trod on moist earth. There was a chill in the air despite the sun. He followed a wandering trail for nearly an hour before the scent of hare crossed his nose and his ears pricked forward, alert. Scoping the undergrowth, Kierkegaard caught sight of the brown creature rummaging around on the forest floor. It appeared as though it had not quite seen the wolf in waiting yet. Lowering himself down, just slightly, Kierkegaard inched forward. The strain against his back leg was excruciating, but he swallowed the fear in his gut and forced himself to keep moving. Before he had a chance to spring, the rabbit turned to face him with an alarmed expression before darting off.
Anger flooded through the grey monster and his feet tore against the earth in pursuit of the prey animal. Long strides carried him for more than ten minutes of running before he found himself in a miserable amount of pain. Slowing to a trot, and then to a complete standstill, Kierkegaard breathed heavily into the autumn air. The rage did not subside. Lifting his skull upwards, the grey wolf caught sight of another… a female with her head pressed against the gnarled bark of a tree. Blinking slowly, the ashen ghost locked his fiery eyes on her without saying a word.

Harlyn · October 30, 2014, 07:31 PM

The tree whispered steadily to her, sharing secrets of itself and the forest it was a part of. After a while, Harlyn pulled back slightly and turned her head to lean the opposite ear upon it. Her eyelids peeled back to reveal orbs of flame and light that landed quite suddenly upon ones similar to hers, only upon a face of smoke and ash.

Harlyn looked upon the strange male for a moment, simply taking in every bit of him that she could. He was staring at her in silence, and something about his gaze told her that this was not uncommon. The Cinderloch stepped back from the tree, her ears falling back upon her skull and tail swaying at her haunches to tell of her lack of threat towards him.

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Kierkegaard · October 30, 2014, 07:51 PM

While her actions appeared to be something of an oddity, Kierkegaard could not help but to allow his gaze to roam her figure, making careful note of her rich coloration. She seemed to be composed of a slathering of different hues that ranged from deep blacks to brilliant shades of rust. When her head turned to him, he noted that their eyes held a similar fire, and he raised his skull upwards slightly, drawing his ears forward. He was nothing more than a ghost when compared to her sharp and earthy colors. Still peering at her with a dull sense of curiosity, the ashen creature did not notice that his wrath was slowly fading away.
The posture of the strange female was friendly, not hostile, so he did not feel as though he was in danger of being chased from the woods. The scent that she bore was familiar, but he did not feel it necessary to comment on her origins or where she had pledged her loyalty. He was, though, still perturbed by the state in which he had found her. Logically, the pale ghost saw no need for one to press their head against the trunk of a tree. It was in this strange sense of confusion that he found himself unsure as to whether or not he should speak to her about it, or continue on his way. The Sairensu male was still hungry, still frustrated with his lacking ability to capture prey, and still perplexed by the female who stood no further than twenty yards from him. Finally, drawing his head upwards and huffing quietly, the large male canted his skull to one direction and pushed both of his lengthy ears forward. “Why were you pressed to that tree?” he inquired in a rumbling baritone, still breathy from his struggle of a run.

Harlyn · October 30, 2014, 08:07 PM

Harlyn watched his regard of her change over the next few seconds, allowing a smile to drift softly upon her face when he posed his question. It wasn't the first time that someone had questioned her "unusual" actions towards her mother earth. This was a very base creature she had come upon, or rather that had come upon her. And yet, she was intrigued.

"Because trees hold within them the heartbeat of the earth," she replied, lifting her head a bit with her ears slightly perking upon her skull. She could have continued, but she watched him instead. She suspected that there would be further curiosity brewing within him, but she was not one to press upon others her beliefs without being invited.

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Kierkegaard · October 30, 2014, 08:15 PM

“No,” came his grumbling voice once more, and his response was somewhat sudden to her explanation. However, the brute did not feel as though this was an accurate answer to his inquiry. Kierkegaard was not a foolish creature. He was, however, something of a basic one. The smoke-colored ghost’s intelligence did not stem from the heartbeat of the earth or even the movements in the stars. The Sairensu was a survivalist. He could teach others how to survive on their own in harsh environments with very little prey for miles if that is what was called from him. He was skilled in the arts of escape, and when his legs were healthy and built to their former glory, he could hunt in even the worst of environments. Kierkegaard was not dumb; his intelligence did not fall into her category. It did, however, make their interaction far more interesting.
Taking a single step forward, the large male gestured with his muzzle towards the trunk of the tree where she had rested her head prior. A heavy frown laced across his dark lips and he found himself both bothered and intrigued by her words. “Trees do not have hearts,” his words were simple, even obtuse, but his own rational mind told him this was true. He had seen fallen trees in the depths of the woods. The ghost had seen the hearts from fallen prey, as well. The two did not coincide.

Harlyn · October 30, 2014, 08:27 PM

His response was not one that she had wanted to hear, and yet... It was said with so little humor and such blatant honesty that she could not help but chuckle gently at it. Harlyn bowed her head slightly, only to bring her gaze up to his face to study the skepticism written there. She canted her head slightly, stepping forward as she lifted her head and perked her ears, fully invested now in learning more about this man.

"You're right, they don't," Harlyn admitted patiently, "But it is not the heart of a tree I hear within them--it's the heart of the earth" She closed the distance between the two of them moderately, stopping only when she sensed he was on the verge of becoming uncomfortable with her nearness. "Trees are like the thick veins that sprout from the heart of a deer or any other creature. They pulsate with the echoes of life within the heart, but those throbs are not their own. They simply speak of the life within that they venerate."

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Kierkegaard · October 30, 2014, 08:41 PM

The further his words went, the more intrigued she became by him. His gaze followed her as she moved from her perch beside the tree until she had shuffled a short distance away from it, and closer to the looming wraith. Kierkegaard remained where he stood, his eyes following her with a placid expression. He did not intend to spark an interest in her, and certainly not towards him. The male had simply been stating his knowledge of her so-called ‘heartbeat of the earth.’ It had only succeeded in making the monster of a wolf more disconcerted than he had been before. Still, she seemed adamant about teaching him her ways. He had to admire the spirit with which she spoke of her weeds and trees. Kierkegaard did not believe that he could ever find himself so passionate about such a bland subject. When she spoke, though, there was a flash in her fiery gaze.
Attention span fading, there was something that she said that caused the male to draw a single ear back and squint at her. It was not a hostile expression that he offered, but a thoughtful one. “Does the heart actually beat?” he asked her in a hushed growl. It was poised almost as though he would not believe her either way if she told him, and still she had him captivated with her strange words and bizarre behavior.

Harlyn · October 30, 2014, 08:55 PM

Harlyn watched the stranger silently, waiting for his response. When it came, she was slightly baffled by it. Does the heart actually beat? What an odd thing to say. It seemed all at once skeptical and deeply philosophical. For a moment, the Cinderloch wasn't certain of what to make of it. But then, clarity came to her, and she stepped towards him with utter confidence.

She paused within a few feet of him, closing her eyes even as her smile wrapped across her muzzle. After a moment she admitted, "Yours does." Her eyelids flickered back to reveal the smouldering embers beneath that were trained upon his pale face, "So why should not others?"

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Kierkegaard · October 30, 2014, 09:14 PM

Kierkegaard was fully aware that his heart did beat, and that there were other creatures in their terrain that also carried the blood-pumping organ in their bodies. His words were not intended to be something of a mystery, or even to bring out a deeper meaning to their conversation. He had asked the question very straightforwardly and had – in turn – received a straightforward response from the peculiar woman. In her response, however, the strange female had also managed to bring about an argument, whether she had realized it or not. Narrowing his brows over his eyes and casting his gaze away from her in a frustrated manner, he found himself watching the trunks of the trees and the branches as they swayed with the lightest touch of wind. Kierkegaard did not like being made to look like a fool in front of this she-wolf, but her intentions seemed friendly enough. If anything, the expression on her face suggested that she was merely teaching him. He did feel doltish in the light of her confidence. To remedy this, he knew of only one solution to said predicament.
“Show me,” his voice cracked in the autumn air as though it were rough from disuse, but the words would be clear enough to understand. The fair creature could speak to him of life and tree trunks all day, but what it came down to was the idea she was suggesting could very well have been proven. He expected her to do so.

Harlyn · November 06, 2014, 09:06 AM

This is all I keep thinking of here...
[Image: colors-of-the-wind-o.gif]

A smile curled across the woman's lips as the white wolf requested that she show him. It was not the first time she'd come across one so skeptical of her beliefs, nor would it be the last. But she had made believers before, so she felt perfectly comfortable as she gestured for this one to follow her back towards the trees.

Harlyn's gaze trailed across the trunks as they walked, searching for the perfect candidate to show the pale ghost of her ways. Finally, she stopped before a great giant of a tree--its trunk nearly the width of her entire body. Wordlessly, she pointed with her muzzle towards it before stepping up herself and pressing an ear to the cool bark. Echoed upon the tree was the sound of the tiny footsteps of insects. The sound of limbs, reaching high towards the sky, swaying in the wind and the rustle of the leaves that still clung to them. Somewhere in the high branches, birds were bouncing from limb to limb, collecting tiny twigs and leaves to line their nests with extra bedding for winter. Squirrels skittered across the same branches, collecting acorns and other seeds to fill up their own caches for the coming cold months.

Her eyes had closed as she listened, but opened then to look upon the skeptic, waiting for him to hear what it was she heard; The sounds of life and survival echoed upon the tree, telling of a healthy and thriving forest. To her, this was the heartbeat.

Kierkegaard · November 16, 2014, 02:57 AM

I'm crazy sorry for the wait on this. My work schedule has been really horrible. Also, it's kind of a strange response... but you get my 100th post! <3

There was a split second in which the ghostly male found himself wondering if he should truly follow the stranger on her quest. The idea was simple enough; everything had life. He did not find this that difficult to believe or even understand. In fact, he was certain that he had been aware of it all along. It was the peculiar way in which she presented this reality. Her words were simple, yet the breath behind them carried so much meaning and passion that he found himself more transfixed by her than what she was saying. There was something curious about the auburn and fire-hued female. There was a compelling nature in her words.
It was this that led the hulking mass of ragged ash-colored fur to trail behind Harlyn. She sought out a particular specimen, and while Kierkegaard was not entirely a patient creature, he found himself entertained by the drive in her expression and the way in which she carried herself through the woodland. Had he been at all interested in what she was saying, he would have found the same sounds and breaths in the leaves on the ground and the branches of the trees above their heads. Instead, he lingered behind the female with very little regard for her personal space, and watched her work in an environment that was comfortable for her.
Once the two wolves had stopped, it was before the tangling roots and expansive trunk of an old tree. Kierkegaard drew his gaze upwards and peered thoughtfully at the girth of the core of said tree. The female made a move to gesture with her muzzle towards the gnarled bark before she took up the position of listening intently to the sounds of the plant-life. For a moment, Kierkegaard was more than hesitant. He was certain that he would hear nothing on the other side. Yet, if the strange female was so captivated by it, he knew that there had to be a reason. With a stiff figure, the ashen brute leaned just slightly towards the trunk of the tree and flicked his ear so that he could listen to the bark. A heavy frown had settled on his face. When the sound found him, he was not entirely surprised. And, at last, he pulled away from the rough edge of the tree without saying anything to the female… not entirely sure he could speak at all.

Harlyn · (This post was last modified: December 15, 2014, 04:57 PM by Harlyn.)

No problem, doll! I'm a lot slower on Harlyn than my other characters so it worked out. Gonna go ahead and fade since this seemed like a good spot! <3

Harlyn studied the white wolf's face as he listened. There was skepticism clearly in the frown, but intrigue in his golden eyes. When he pulled away, he seemed unreadable, but Harlyn was quick to assume and believe that it was because he had been awed into silence. She gave him a knowing smile and a wag of her tail, wanting to give him as much time to let the epiphany sink in--assuming there had been one at all.

"You should join us in the Spine," Harlyn said after a few moments had passed, "There is more that I could show you, if you have a mind to see." She smiled at him then, pausing for only a second or two more before she turned and glided away, her dark patterned fur disappearing amongst the other shadows in the forest.