Sarkish Ways for Sarkish Days

This part of Tyrande's character will be based off my favorite character in the book series, Wolves of the Beyond, it adds a new spin on her character, and might actually help her fit in to the new pack more! Hope you enjoy it!

Tyrande finally let go of the stinging leaves in her mouth, whining on a little pain. After gingerly unfolding the leaves, she revealed different heads of plants, including thistle.

I really need to make something that will help me carry these things without almost skinning myself alive! she thought to herself, carrying the bag of thorn to a hollowed out tiny cave-like thing made of stone, and filled a little with dead leaves and dry twigs and brush. Quickly, she tipped the thorns into it. Smiling, she turned to the dark crevice at the back of her den.

Inside it was dark and moist, a perfect condition to put her stock. She gingerly picked up a bundle folded in leaves and took it out to a small ledge on the right-paw side of the den.

She jumped up on to the ledge and set down the bundle. "My working station." she stated, more to herself than another. She settled down and unfolded the leaves, revealing a red lump of clay.

She set to work, molding and hollowing, pressing her paw down several times...

Sitri did not have orders so he patrolled and snuck and slunk all around the territory. Finding new places and learning new faces. He did not know them all yet, did not trust any of them at all, but he needed to keep them all close so he could weed out the queens enemies yes her enemies. Enemy watch for enemy the voices in his head were singsonging along to the mantra.

Her heard a voice and for a moment he though a new voice had joined the many in his mind, but it was another wolf and he came up towards her. Blood red eyes lit like a fire as the light reflected off of them. Saliva pooled from a blood red maw, remnants of his last meal still laying on his muzzle. Brown fur and scars lit up like the fourth of july and he watched quietly in the shadows always from the shadows.

Tyrande paused in her molding, taking her dusty nose away from her in-the-making bucket. She sniffed around, picking up a rather malicious scent. She was used to those scents. Most of her new pack carried a somewhat insane scent about them.

"There is no point in hiding!" She called, "Takes a sneak to know a sneak! Why don't you come out and introduce yourself? I haven't gotten the chance to meet anyone, 'cept for Lecter!"

She turned back towards her clay, beginning to fine out the rough and bumpy edges. The bucket was shaped sort of like a shallow barrel pressed down by paw, and a wide handle spread out from its sides before coming back together in a graceful swirling effect created by endless, annoying and nastly gnawing.

One tattered ear swiveled forward as he turned face towards her the light catching the scars that he had everywhere. NO sneak watching. He only stepped a little further into the light, he did not trust the strange light that she had he didn't even know what it was.

IN a voice raspy from ill use and with no tone he asked "Who there? The voices in his head were whispered who who is it who is it. He stared at the female in front of him and his eyes were dark pools of liquid red.

She turned to see the tattered, ragged wolf.
She quickly looked around and dusted off the soft moss that grew around her den, letting the small, thin light glow a little brighter.
She set her bucket on the corner of the ledge and covered it with wet moss before hopping off, "What's your name, stranger?"

Sitri studied the wolf in front of him she was very very black. Her fur was very thick he wanted to touch it, but he kept himself to himself. Her markings were strange to him and he found them odd, yet they suited her. She looked as if they were scars, but they weren't they were just colored.

Sitri looked at her and spoke in his raspy voice "Sitri am I. He then looked at her waiting for her to return her name or not either way it didn't matter to the brute. He stood stalwart and stoic watching her.

Tyrande nods. "Call me Tyrande." She trotted over to the tiny cave to check over her stock, and then throwing a few wood sticks in that she had collected in her past time. After a bit, she turned back towards the newcomer. "What brings you to my humble abode, Sitri?"

It's okay i thought you might have. I edited all my posts if you just edit yours we should be good. Umm I don't know about the clay molding i don't know if the wolves can do that you may want to ask most of them use sea shells or make bundles out of skulls or leaves to carry things, but you can ask spirit of the wolf.

Sitri nodded at her words and repeated her name to memorize it "Tyrande" Names were still very hard for him to get used to he had been the only wolf besides the royal family with a name and for that fact he had a hard time remembering that most had names. "Watching everyone. was his simply answer to her question. He was just watching and learning, he had never had the opportunity before and he was finding that he liked it, if the voices would just be quiet in his head he would enjoy it much more.

Tyrande chuckled, moving across her large cavern.

The cavern was circular, big enough to house about fifteen wolves. On the far right was her small ledge where her clay pot sat. In the back was a small crevace leading to small, moist room where she kept her clay stock. Back in the cavern, on the left, was a small, hallow indention in the wall, lined by stone and clay. Here, she kept her herbs that she used to mush into a pulp to make "paint" for her pots. Next to that was yet a deeper indention in the cavern. On the floor there, there was a spot that was circled by smooth river stones, which was her bed, which was composed of leaves and soft, dried moss. The entire den was dimly lit by the eerie light a special species of moss let off. The entrance was half blocked by a bolder, so that only about two average-sized wolves could come in at the same time.

"I doubt you'll find much to entertain yourself here, Sitri." she said, grabbing her gnaw bone and carving a small circle next to a previously made notch. "The most I could offer you with is where to avoid thistle patches, and what berries not to accidentally swallow."

Sitri looked at the wide cave and shifted his weight a cave like this in his former home would have been where they held the slaves alone and apart from many and all. Sitri looked around scarred ears moving to and fro as he listened scarred face showing starkly white as the moss light hit the scars.

"Nice home for Tyrande. he grunted softly he continued to take in and look. He was learning new things a day at a time though it was slow going for the wolf who had been deprived and starved of the knowledge that even the basic of pups would know. Thistle what? Berries? he was confused he did not know what she was speaking of.

Tyrande was shocked. She was astounded that such a scarred wolf wouldn't know a thing as simple as a thistle patch. But she would be patient, it was someone who seemed willing to learn. She liked wolves like that.

She looked at him, smiling brightly."Thistle patches! Groups of thistle! Thistles are annoying, and if they get too deep in your fur, it can cause painful cuts and scratches, so it's best to know where they grow so that doesn't happen. Here-" She went over to pick a head of thistle, carrying it gently in her mouth. She set it down in front of him. "Stroke it, but not against the spines, and be very gentle." She then furrowed her brow. "As for berries, there are some out there that look pretty enough, but can suffocate you and lock your muscles before it even reaches your stomach."

She looked at him, eyeing him up in down. Not in disdain, but in sympathy. She remembered the days where she knew little about the world.

Sitri was scarred from war, years of slavery and abuse. He had been taught a certain set of skills from birth and those were the only things he was allowed to learn. He was the only one with a name. he had been taught to hunt, to fight, to sneak, to stalk and to obey, that was all. To say he was simple minded would be wrong as he was not, he had just never been nurtured enough to be able t othink for himself fully.

Sitri looked down at the small plant with a strange expression on his face, he did know this plant though he had never known it's name. "I know this plant. he grunted at her and then looked back down "Did not know name. He was finding that he had to speak around these wolves and it hurt his throat as he was not used to speaking very often. He was taught to sit and be silent when near others and the queen.

Tyrande flicked her ear at his voice and frowned. "Is your throat hurting? Give me a sec..." The shadow went to the back crevice, coming back a few seconds later with a pot with an ill-fitting lid, draped over in moss and folded in leaves. After unrolling the leaves and removing the lid, she gingerly took out a small honeycomb. She sighed as she handed over her most precious piece of her stock. Giving that honeycomb to him would mean she would only have three.

"Lick that." She told him warmly, in a mother-like way. She always had motherly instincts to care for a hurting soul, whether she absolutely loathed them or not. "Bee's honey will make you throat feel ten times better, trust me. And the actual comb is a treat to chew on. But if your thirsty after, there's plenty of moss to get water from in the back..."

Sitri heard her sigh and though he was not a kind wolf, she was a pack mate and he had a certain duty to her, though his loyalty and duties were reserved for the queen and if she needed him he would not be able to help the other, but he would do his best to try. "Sitri get you more, you umm show 'im where when ready.

He locked red eyes onto her for a moment and dipped his head in thanks, not sure how to say thanks as he had never been taught, but he hoped she understood his gesture. He lay his large body down and licked the honeycomb gently chewing on it a little bit.

Tyrande smiled kindly, "Do not worry about my stock. I'd give away every bit of it if it meant to protect someone."

She watched the wolf closely. Quietly, she asked, "Sitri, what do you believe in? I know it's a personal question, but... what's your religion? What did you grow up to believe? Any deities to worship?" She wanted to know if they all believed something different from her, because so far she hasn't seen a single wolf that believes in her god, Lupus. Some say Sos, others say other things... but not a single Lupus' believer.

Sitri looked at her and swallowed swiftly his throat working up and down scars showing up white even there. "I was trained to believe in the queen only the queen. No Gods for Sitri. Sitri shook his head any wolf that believed in anything other than the queen or worshiped anyone other than the queen it was instant death.

"Oh." She said, looking away. Something about the way he said it told her that the question was almost blasphemous in his eyes.

She set the pot back in the back. She absent-mindedly organized what little bits of imperfection was there. She was quiet as she walked across to her small stock of herbs and quickly organized those as well. She scanned the room again, walking over to gently put her pot-in-the-making back in the cool, damp crevice. Dusting off some more of her ledge, and looked over to make sure her bedding wasn't too massy-looking.

After a minute, she looked back at the other wolf. If that's all he believes in... does that explain why he knows so little about life?

She turned towards him, looking a him intensely, her odd-colored eyes studying him, the violet-flecks seeming to stand out more than ever in the eerie moss-light. She quietly asked him again.

"Did the Queen teach anything except for fighting?"

Sitri watched as she worked around her small den. He chewed absently on the honeycomb his mind blissfully blank and quiet for once. The voices were not screaming at him. He shifted and closed his eyes for a moment as he waited for her to speak again, because he did not know what to say.

Sitri stared at her for a moment and then spoke , "Sitri can sneak, hunt, kill, maim, torture, father pups and work. That was what Sitri was taught, sister was taught to bear children, mother same thing, father was taught healing. He shrugged again, he was trained for his size and prowess to fight and kill and hunt.

Every word he said bore into her head mercilessly. When he named off what he could do, she cringed each time, her ears would slowly begin to lie flat, and her hackles would begin to rise. How ever it wasn't until he got to what his sister was taught when she let out a silent snarl.

This wolf was taught only how to hurt others. His sister and mother were taught only how to keep the line of ancestry going. His father was taught healing, which was rather a good thing compared to the others. She loathed the dictatorship she had not even heard about until a minute ago.

She shook the glare off her face and looked back at him. She continued her inquiry, "Would you obey the orders you were given upon anyone? Would you torture someone that you were close to if they told you to?"

A flash of alarm stretched across her face. If those wolves he spoke of still existed... If they found out that she had taught him something more than harming or of how she came to know about them... Not only would the wolf in front of her have the possibility of dying, but they would kill her for sure, or at the very least, make sure she lived a life of pain and agony.

Sitri saw her start to snarl and her hackles raise and he stood swiftly, he was not allowed to attack his fellow pack members demon queen Jinx had told him so so why was this female going to attack him, he was confused and was not sure what to do, but soon she calmed down which left him even more confused.

if she loathed the dictatorship wait until she found out he was the only one with a name, other than the royal family and that he had been taught the ways of males and females by his own mother and sister and that the queen had frequently used him for her own consort, that he had been bitten, ripped open tortured and everything else and he still obeyed.

Sitri looked at her and gave one brief nod "Sitri must obey, sitri have no close ones...sitri belongs to queen..not allowed to meet anyone else not be close to anyone... The voices in his head began t ospeak at her constant questioning Obey belogn to queen belong to queen..shut mouth be quiet enough. he shook his head and felt like whining softly.

Those wolves were long gone they had all died all but him...he had been the last one standing

Tyrande did something that she never imagined she would do. She slowly walked forward to the confused wolf. While he still stood their she passed her head underneath his chin soothingly before walking back to her original spot. She looked at him sorrowfully.

"Even dictators cannot deny feelings and thoughts. You have seen so much sorrow and pain, I can see it, etched onto your fur as hideous scars."

She looked at him, straight into his eyes. "Sitri... There are some words you should not obey to, no matter how much it would hurt. There are some things that should not be taken from wolves. Something that was taken from you.

"It was your ego.

"The cruelest thing a wolf could do to another is not torture, not pain, not dark feelings or thoughts. The cruelest thing a wolf could do to another is take away your personality and shape it to their own desires.

"Sitri. Listen to me when I say this... You are not a tool, not a thing to be broken. You are a being. A wolf. You are Sitri, not some toy. If you ever want to talk- Not discuss battle tactics or about orders or where to hunt, just talk- you're welcome here, always."

She frowned. "I unfortunately have a lot of work to catch up on, Sitri. If you would be so kind to leave me in peace for now, unless you wish to talk about something now?" She went to go take out her bucket and work on it again. As she set it on the ledge, she waited for him to respond.

Sitri tilted his head trying to understand what she was saying, though it was hard for him, as no wolf had talked so brazenly to him or about him before. He tilted his muzzle thoughtfully and then nodded his head and spoke quietly "Have to think. Leave Tyrande alone as asked. He stood on massive paws and shook his scar riddled pelt he pushed the honey comb towards her and then with another look at her her left the den to walk around in the darkness allowing the voices to fill his head and fill the void with their words though tonight they did not bring comfort, but rather unrest. Worthless Sitri always worthless