Sleeping Dragon Stormcloud

Anyone! He is in a prison cave and will have a guard so your wolf could be either the guard or a visitor. He is known as Storm to his captors

Cirrus gazed at a vein of coloured rock on his cave wall. The sunshine outside filtered in only far enough to touch the tips of his paws, and it was only a weak winter sun. He had hours to while away, and contemplate his wrongdoings. Also to nurse his absolute hatred towards the thick giant that had caused his imprisonment in the first place. Goliath had caused all of this, in his mind, and had also been the one to break his leg. That it had been at Heda’s bidding was of no interest to Cirrus. The man did not feel much blame lay at her paws – Heda was doing what any Alpha would do.
 
He wondered when Heda would tire of him. When his drain on her pack would become obvious. Perhaps when his leg had healed and she realised he had no talent. Exhausted by these thoughts, Cirrus drooped over to lay on his side, his once-silky fur matted and dirty now that his cracked rib did not allow him to twist his body and groom. He gazed up at the close ceiling with one liquid brown eye and silently chastised himself for not thinking of a more inventive name.

Hello!

They had a captive. The thought of his Queens harboring a criminal among their midst did not surprise the silent wolf; they were warriors after all, and this was what civilized warriors did - take prisoners. He was tasked (or rather, he tasked himself) with guarding the prisoner, seeing as he had not much else to do for the moment. Taking the oldest piece of meat from the nearest cache - the leg of some long dead ungulate, Hush loped over to where the captive - Storm he was called, though Hush could never call him that - was being held.

He was a strange beast, a hybrid just like him, though his dog side was shown prominently in his (previously) silken coat. Hush paid it no mind, dropping the leg in front of the captive and nosing it towards him. He chuffed softly, then took his place in front of the creature, laying so his side was facing Storm, half watching him, half watching the area around them.

Hi!

Thankfully he had not seen much for the Brute who had caused all of this, Goliath, since his capture. Instead most of the wolves visiting or guarding him had little to say to him but were neutral enough. Cirrus caught the sound of an approaching wolf with the furled ear that wasn’t pressed against the floor. Cirrus made no movement to lift himself – no one could say that it wasn’t submissive to lay with his belly exposed.
 
The stranger that entered the cave was an odd-looking one. Cirrus felt his interest piqued, especially when the creature nudge a piece of food (somewhat past its best-buy date) towards him and chuffed. Hush then flopped down nearby, and kept a wary eye on the horizon, and Storm himself. Lifting himself up from his melancholy, Storm reached across and grabbed the leg and brought it to rest between his own long skinny appendages.
 
Carefully, he tore some flesh and chewed it, letting silence reign for a couple of moments. Then the prisoner spoke, watching Hush closely. “Was your Grand-daddy a dog too, then?” Storm enquired casually, making it obvious (as if his fur, nose and ears hadn’t already) that he was of mixed heritage. Perhaps they could have something in common.

Hush, being used to silence his whole life, did not feel uncomfortable as the two of them lapsed into stillness. Half listening and half watching the silken hybrid, Hush began to lull into a sort of trance as he focused on nothing, and everything. He felt complacent, calm, chill, the silence finally broken by the captive.

His head jerked towards the captive half heartedly, unsurprised by the question. A hybrid knows another hybrid, especially when it was so blatant on his face and body. Hush, who barely knew his hybrid father, responded with a simultaneous shrug and nod. He might have been a dog, or his grandmother was a dog and his grandfather was the coyote. Hush did not know and would never know. Such things never had mattered to him, especially when he could never ask.

The prisoner could tell that Hush had felt more at ease with the silence. This was only to be expected, given that he may not want to be lulled into a trap by ‘Storm’. Perhaps he had been told not to speak to a prisoner. Cirrus might have been more keen to let silence continue if he wasn’t so bored. Gazing at a half-breed as he ate his meal was not as good as knowing more about him.
 
So… the other didn’t know what he was. That was obvious from his confused nod-shrug combo. “I see…” he murmured.  Since Hush didn’t feel he could talk to a prisoner (whatever the reasons), Cirrus decided he could at least continue with some yes/no questions. He chewed another strip of meat, savouring the taste despite the age. “Has this pack been around for a long time?”

He doubted that anyone would tell a captive about his muteness, especially since it wouldn't matter to him if a person had the will to talk to him or not. Because of course, everyone would treat him like a lesser after all, lifting their noses and ignoring him. But Hush humored him, since he really wasn't talking to him was he? So, Hush shook his head in response. Their pack was fairly new, but it seemed like a lot of packs nearby were.

Cameo, but if you want me to continue please tag me. ^_^

Hush - I'm assuming she knows of him from the other thread, but I will be vague because it's not far along.

The longer she stayed and observed, the more she felt mystified. Was she trying to force herself into a place that she would never fit into? As a Corvidae and travelled, the woman had an open mind - but there were values that had been imprinted upon her. It was strange to kneel before a wolf that had not yet experienced heat (not that she had), or at the very least its stirrings-- but if she had not, Magpie likely would have died. And it was her fastest path to leadership, if only she could learn enough to advise the Heda as promised.

So, she remained. It would soon be time to speak to the others - something she longed for, but also dreaded. If she misspoke, it would not reflect well upon her talents. Magpie could not advise on a culture she did not understand.

She had gotten wind of a prisoner, though was unaware of the circumstances or if the rumors held much truth. But captives were something Magpie was adamantly opposed to, and so she sought to investigate. She scouted for the cavern, and halted behind an outcropping when she saw the guard.

The silent male from yesterday. She would not win in a fight against him, nor was she certain how to bluff her way in to converse with whatever soul he guarded -- and if she could, her lack of knowledge on the situation could get her into trouble.

Magpie settled to her stomach, resting her head upon her paws; she feigned a nap, in case she was spotted, but her ears were casually positioned to capture anything useful.

Cirrus ‘hmmmed’ softly at the shake of the dog-featured head. There was the insinuation that this pack had been around for a while then. That meant it was well-established and likely to be superior to the packs around it. Cirrus’s heart froze when he thought about what he could do to help the pack, lest he be starved and shunned. He tried to push it to the back of his mind for now.
 
“And how do you help the pack? Are you a hunter? Carer?” Neither seemed to fit the gangly lad, nor did the next: “protector?” It would be good to get an idea of the roles already filled. Cirrus’s nose flared as the scent of another wolf filtered into the cave, from somewhere off outside. His ears flattened in distaste – another guard? He could hardly run, could he? A snort emerged from his nostrils and he left Hush to decide whether to acknowledge the female pack member who lingered somewhere on the boundaries of his prison.

Hush nodded at the last role, then turned his attention from the captive to the black-furred woman for a brief moment. He chuffed a greeting to her, wondering if she was still smarting from the spar they had the day before. He hoped he didn't do much damage to her, but he couldn't ask. She looked fine to him. Hush nodded to her, then resumed his post. She could talk to the captive if she wanted; she could entertain him with words.

So sorry! I didn't realize you were waiting for me to continue.

The voice coming from the cavern was faint, and she couldn't make out what the captive was saying. Magpie hadn't done much to mask her presence, nor did she feel it was necessary-- and so it was no surprise that she was noticed. She lifted her head to chuff a greeting in response, and after a moment of consideration, heaved to her feet. It seemed the male she had sparred yesterday was incapable of speaking, and she was unlikely to glean anything useful from a one-sided conversation.

She moved to the entrance, offering the male a nod of acknowledgment as he maintained his post-- and then awkwardly peered inside to take stock of the prisoner. He didn't look good, and for a moment she felt incensed that he was even here. It had been a long time since her own captivity, but the impression was lasting. "Hello," she offered gently, but left it at that; she couldn't free him, and 'Can I get you anything?' seemed a lame consolation prize.

*rolls around* sorry if there’s any overlap with the other thread Emalee, we’ll keep this one as their first meet!
 
Cirrus noticed that Hush turned away from him to greet the stranger. She came closer at that, her dark fur drinking in the light until it blazed like a black hole. Still Hush didn’t speak, and Cirrus began to wonder whether this stemmed from a lack of a voice box, rather than unwillingness to talk to a prisoner. Then again, he had chuffed a few times so he must have some ability to speak.
 
The lady looked into the cave and her eyes took him in. Cirrus looked back, careful. Hush had put him at ease, but that didn’t stop him from tensing again at this newcomer. It was like living on the edge of a knife – he had no idea who to trust and what to say. If he teetered two far in one direction, he was liable to be impaled on the blade.
 
She greeted him, which was quite unusual. Ears plastered against his head, with his body already pressed low to the ground, Cirrus had no option but to respond to a member of his captor pack. “Hello.” His word was quiet, but still echoed loudly against the silence that otherwise reigned in his cave. Cirrus cringed at the sound, feeling it too brash and bold – he waited to see how Magpie would react. He was a mirror in his current state of mind, and he tended to reflect the demeanour others provided him. Hush was calm and quiet. It remained to be seen how this lady would continue, or whether she would exit after her chance to stare at the prisoner. Cirris gazed at her paws.

Putting Hush in the background for a while. Just ignore him I guess.

Hush listened to the short, two word conversation, his one ear cocked towards them as they awkwardly spoke. Hush wondered what the black female was doing here; she was obviously not here to take guard. He had no idea what the wolfdog was held captive for either, for it was not in his place nor ability to ask. He simply sat there and listened, his baby blue eyes sweeping from the cave to the outside.

She was struggling with her own emotion; while she preferred logic when making decisions, she just as often acted on gut instinct. It was too late that she realized she never should have begun the conversation with the captive to begin with. Even if the silent guard was unable to speak, it would reveal too much ignorance of Drageda's culture— and if she were to climb her way to the Commander's side, she could not show weakness.

The captive's returned greeting was loud in the cavern, but the silence that followed was even heavier. Magpie could only look upon him, intelligent eyes intent upon the poor soul— though the rest of her expression was stoic, unreadable. It pained her, but after a moment the woman realized there was nothing to do or say here; she peeled her lips back to reveal pearly teeth in disgust, the action genuine, but though it would likely be taken as directed toward the captive, it was truly an internal disgust with herself.

She exited the cavern with purpose, nodding once to the guard as she passed, and sauntered away with feigned confidence.

What am I doing here?

She bared her teeth at him in disgust after a moments’ thought. Storm’s ears wilted again and he settled back against his haunches to shift his body further away from her. Too little too late. She turned and left without further word. Hush had positioned himself outside, apparently peeved with Storm’s questions. The prisoner crumpled to the floor in despair, and curled into a tight ball, unable to sleep for the pangs of anger and self-pity and hunger.