Duskfire Glacier [m]I hear it all, I hear it all in my head
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AW. i hope this is okay, experimental character with an intent to join if the vibe is there ^^

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You are walking amongst other scents. 
Replace them with your own...

A low, guttural snarl tore from her throat in answer to the honeyed voice that slithered through her thoughts--a voice that always knew how to find her, especially when she teetered too close to either side of the line. 

Good. Evil. It didn’t matter. It whispered all the same.

Phoryn shook her head in a sharp, practiced motion, as if force alone could shake it loose. It never worked, not really, but habit made her try. Desperation made her hope.

It had always been there--both devil and angel perched on her shoulders. The shadow stitched to her spine.

The ghost that never slept, haunting and blessing her waking hours and her dreams alike.

Some days it seemed the only relief was to rake and chew at her own skin, a more...damaging way to quiet the voices that made her skin crawl, yet filled her with a light so bright it would burn all the way through to her nerve endings.

Today was no different, though she would do her best to ignore them. She was in a pack's stomping ground, an accidental preoccupied misstep into territory that was not hers to freely explore. She should move on, she knew, yet her curiosity was peaked. Too much so.

She stepped further in, slowly, eyes much like the ice in which supplied the area of its chill scanning ahead.

Tread carefully, child.
Lest you want to become prey...

The two-toned woman scoffed. The fallen angel should already know her intentions--yet, she would soon find that those who do not live within her soul did not.
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Ooc — Kit
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#2
approaching! not yet attacking, but coming with the intent to! lovely post btw ◡̈  
A call rang out as Tikigâk saw a wolf cross the invisible threshold. Tikigâk herself was already barreling toward the stranger. This trespass against her new kin was one she would only answer with teeth, until she felt only the stillness of death. She had never suffered fools, and she would not begin to this day. 

Whether the wolf was nose blind or foolish made no difference to the she-wolf. They would be cut down for it all the same.

Aided by her descent, her momentum would aid her in delivering a devastating blow with body and fangs combined. Their only hope would be the wisdom to turn and run, far away from here—otherwise Tikigâk would give her no quarter, and they would know what it truly was to be fallen until they knew nothing at all but the bleak blackness of death.
Loner

Ulvheim

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#3
reposting after tiki <3

— it was misfortune that let the woman happen upon the bloodkeeper.
or was it fortune, that the kaan had not found her?
it was likely the first. from what he'd seen, the baskaan had a reputation for taking a liking to many, if not all the women he happened upon. and it was not his cousin's place to judge. what was one man's taste was not so often another's—and there was nothing wrong with that.
but he hears distant commotion. the scent of his cousin's mate a sharp wound in the nose, and blackfell can only chuckle lowly. so it is misfortune afterall, but not brought on by the bloodkeeper; rather, the mate of the kaan.
blackfell emerges the stygian knight from the evergreens laden with ice and snow. a persistent figure upon darukaal's marches, and now, here. his patrol interrupted by a scent that did not belong, and then the justice dealt by a woman of the glacier. crimson eyes cut now over the trespasser, appraising her like one might an uncut gem.
tail flagging naturally, a banner that has seen war but does not rise for it yet. a growl comes rolling forth like thunder, locked in the vibrating cage of bridgework. he watches the interaction—for now—and has no doubt tikigâk would impress him.
norse“ · common

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oh lawd, she comin' XD. ty for joining! <3

IT COMES



Both voices shouted, rattling and clanging around the inside of her psyche, a momentary disorientation settling across her vision.

Yet her ears indeed still worked, on a swivel did they pick up the alert call and barreling force of paws on hard ground. 

There was not much time for her mind to choose to fight or take flight, so she stilled and hunkered.

A soft whine from her throat, tail tucked. Whale-eyed, dissociated while her brain caught up to itself.

A weak, foolish girl...
Edit: welcome Blackfell, didn't see you there ^^
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Stilled, hunkered—as good as dead. 

Tikigâk was upon her as an avalanche would be. Devastating indeed—with little chance of survival unless one knew how to use their head. 

The other made no move to defend, and so Tikigâk would use what momentum had given her to her already terrible weight to seek to barrel her over before she would then move to pin and press the girl into the earth with brutal efficiency. 

She had seen pretenders such as this. She would not give them the room to deliver a toothy surprise. Sick wolves. 

But she trusted their submission. And if the other resisted and did not show their belly, as Tikigâk so vehemently and physically suggested, then they were as good as dead.
Loner

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— he remains several feet away, but not motionless. pacing around the scene as it progresses, feeling the thrum of battlelight beneath his own hide.
there is no need for him to be called to action. the woman cowers quickly and she is dealt with, the kaan's mate attempting to pin her swift.
blackfell growls his encouragement, tail lashing like a whip, thick splaying paws covering the snow and icy ground as he goes.
norse“ · common

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"I. Am. Not. WEAK.

Her voice had taken on an almost ethereal--dangerous--tone, made of gravel, shadows. A quiet thunder. It was not to the woman it was voiced, but the bear would not know this. 

The weight of the women above her had triggered what she could only describe as an unleashing; something that only happens once in a blue moon, a way to protect what was so fragile inside: a bleeding and broken heart. Once as strong as a warrior's, but life tends to happen in strange ways, and those who have been preyed upon can only continue on however they can. If they can. Some choose an end, some choose life.

It was not hard to guess what Phoryn had chosen.

Once crystalline, her eyes were now glazed over, both seeing and unseeing. She eyed the dark, heavy-weighted figure above her, a demon come to life, and she snarled a return, teeth glistening and gums exposed.

Child, this is not the way
Breathe, she is doing what she must
Now, you must do the same

The fallen angel's voice chastised her, and it was all it took for her to come back to reality, to see this for what it was. She was the intruder here, and the other was only protecting their own. Their claim.

And where she had none, she deflated, softened. Defeated. 

Slowly, her neck tilted, exposing the softness there, a show of surrender. 

And she waited.
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Tikigâk met her in a snarling and snapping riposte, a brutal correction provided with her fangs as she snapped at the others muzzle, before she pressed harder for their throat. Words fell on deaf ears—Tikigâk was but seconds from becoming her death. 

And then, a calm sort of quiet—where she felt the body give in acceptance, in defeat. Tikigâk held her there by her vulnerable throat, tail square over her hindquarters in an assertion of her position over the trespasser. Her snarl did not end. The sounds of Blackfell, the weight of his support, was answered with each driven movement.

When the other maintained their submission, Tikigâk released long enough to say: leave, now—or die. No threat in her words—only promise. Tikigâk stepped away to give her room to retreat, but no more room than that—if the girl sought to go around her, Tikigâk would meet her again with tooth and claw. 

Darukaal had no room for a wolf such as this—one without sound mind and good sense to not trespass. If it had happened here and now, how many other times might it have happened? Would it happen again? It smelled of trouble.

Tikigâk should put her out out of her misery—the temptation to was abundantly clear. An ear turned toward Blackfell—if he called for it, she was prepared to answer.
Loner

We're known for our renowned lack of manners,
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faust’s figure broke the mist and cold like a blade drawn clean. thick-coated, scar-shadowed, his eyes scanned the scene without urgency—but there was a weight to his stare. he watched the stranger pinned beneath his mate, saw the bloodless defiance in her eyes and the submission that followed.
his body moved with controlled command. a flick of his tail—sharp, silent—sent blackfell circling closer, a warhound summoned forward with purpose. but faust’s first movement was toward tikigâk. his shoulder brushed hers, a subtle anchor, a steadying force. not a command, but a signal: he was here.
then his eyes found the woman on the ground.
…speak, he said, voice as cold as the glacier’s bones.
a long breath passed. he studied her—her posture, her tremble, the strange strength that still lingered beneath her surrender.
you hunter? healer?
the question was simple, but not idle.
meat. hides. skilled hands. if she had use, she might live.
if not—she would bleed.

┈ You want to eat a bullet in battle, you start wishing for a letter.
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Loner

Ulvheim

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— commanded with a tail flick to sweep in. he moves, head sinking between twin shoulders of black boulder. taking to the right flank, crimson eyes spilling over the scene. tiki, pinning the rogue brusquely beneath her.
faust taking over the situation, commanding with an ease. blackfell does not linger long after this, sharing a glance with his cousin before he departs to leave.
he was no longer needed here, and had a wife to attend to.

exit BF!
norse“ · common

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Two newcomers, each flanking the female, one speaking and one assessing the scene before moving off. As if her presence meant nothing. Though, she didn’t quite blame the man; she was nothing, indeed.

You are not nothing, child.
Come to full height and show them.


Heeding its advice, she did so, pulling herself to stand, her head held aloft, ignoring the way she had become so disheveled by the bear woman’s assault. 

Fat ass woman better watch herself.

Phoryn silently agreed, but outwardly, her attention turned to the man who spoke. She weighed the man’s stare, assessing him in return. What did it matter to him that he knew her capabilities? 

The woman who stood beside him would surely rather see her dead than hear what she had to say.

I am whatever I am needed to be. Having dipped my paws into many skills, I am no stranger to the things that are needed to be done. If it was the right thing to say, she wasn’t sure. The moment was too tense, each party strung tight like a bowstring about to snap.

Anything to get her out of this alive.
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The arrival of her mate tempered her, for a moment. But as the woman held her head aloft, still on lands not her own to behave as such, Tikigâk found herself out of mercy to give. Faust, kinder than she for the others trespass, had given her one final opportunity. The white wolf’s words meant nothing next to her then continued behavior. Her pride was misplaced. 

Tikigâk looked to Faust. How would he answer the disrespect the other displayed? Tikigâk, incensed, was all too prepared to chase the she-wolf out and make good on her own words, paused only for her own respect toward her mate—not for good, should the other woman kept her behavior up, but certainly for this moment in time. 

She disbelieved her words—the other was not at all what she needed to be, which then and there was sound of mind. Her mistrust was significant. 

But to her own credit, Tikigâk looked now upon the stranger without indicating any of her thoughts. Her hard stare had turned indifferent, detached—here, or elsewhere, the other woman was not long for the world with her behavior. Truth be told, the other had her mate to thank for still breathing then and there—Tikigâk, normally, would have gone for her throat for her resumed arrogance—toward the Kaan, now, too. 

Unruffled, Tikigâk released the tension from her own furs with a great shake before standing taller, plume rigid over her own hindquarters.
Loner

We're known for our renowned lack of manners,
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faust’s eyes narrowed as he watched the woman, her posture defiant, too sharp for the moment. the air between them crackled with tension, but he didn’t react immediately, letting her words hang in the cold air. the quiet hum of his patience settled in the space, though his nostrils flared slightly.
come, he said simply, his voice low, but carrying weight. show me. his gaze flicked to tikigâk beside him, offering her a reassuring touch of his nose to her shoulder. i know, his touch whispered, and she would understand. she had made her point. now, it was time to see if the woman would rise to the challenge—or fall to the ground beneath the pressure.
he stepped forward, movements fluid and steady, but not hurried. the hunt was a test of more than just skill; it was about trust, understanding, and dominance.
stay close, faust murmured, his eyes flicking to her with a brief glance of reassurance before turning back to the stranger. we hunt, and we see if you’re truly what you claim to be.
his stance shifted, ready to move into action. his words held no further venom, but they were clear: prove yourself.
i can start new!

┈ You want to eat a bullet in battle, you start wishing for a letter.
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Sure! We can end here or after Tiki if you want one last post!

It was clear to her that the voices were what hindered her here in this moment. Her affliction, though brief as it were and not at all what it used to be, gave these brutes a vision of her that was wildly untrue. 

She was indeed a force, a brute in her own right. 

Show them your claws and your teeth.
Make
them
bleed.
They will hurt you
No, child.
Hunt and kill, dissolve their untrue thoughts of you.
Give them a new one.

You are more than the shadow that haunts

Sharp-edged eyes did not give way to the conversation happening in her head. Instead, they watched the way the two interacted, a quiet gesture meant between two souls, whom she could only guess were tied.

To be loved and not used. She could feel the devil on her shoulder now, crawling up her neck, whispering of pain and warning her that he was coming. But, she knew, that he was not. He could never find her again.

The dead did not seek.

Her gaze flickered from man to woman, returning to the man before she spoke, her voice steady. “After you.”
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Tikigâk is grounded, and merely watches. Faust suggests they hunt together—and Tikigâk does not shy away from the idea. It is not that she doubts that the she wolf can hunt, and it would answer the question of whether or not the woman was nose blind.  

The steady voice was answered with the flick of her ear. Tikigâk would hunt with them.