The dawn had broken as Tyulen made his way into the Kildeer Rest, his steps pausing as his sapphire blue gaze took in the foreign landscape, pausing only once to spare a single steeled glance over his shoulder. It wasn't that he thought the Copse would chase after their trash prince but smart guys covered their asses. He'd knew when he went after Anastasia that it would cause enough chaos and panic for him to put as much distance between him and them as he could before they caught on. He wasn't worth their energy, not when they had more immediate and pressing concerns: and they were free of him (and quite vice versa). It had always been ironic to Tyulen how he was only donned with golden laurels and adored during the few months after his birth ...until Czar's death; which resulted in the complete switch flip of his mother's behavior towards him only to abandon him for death. Except Anastasia had been too cruel to give into those wishes.
His lips were a smooth line, his stare impassive as he took a few tentative steps towards a small rock formation. They appeared — a quick glance up was given to confirm — to be scattered through out the territory. The random boulders were ...strange, and there wasn't any sustainable prey scents. Squirrels, and mice, he deduced as he sniffed at the earth, pressing his muzzle against the soft soil delving past the rich fragrance of the earth to analyze the musky aromas of the rodents. Not enough to feed him ...but he consented that it would be enough to keep him from starving, and that was more welcome than anything else at the moment.
Being a one man hunt team meant that his meal options were extremely limited, and though he had never thought he'd think it — in fact it felt verboten to think it — he missed that aspect of Siberia Copse. He always was the last to eat but scraps of venison was better than measly teases of meat that rodents gave him; and frankly if he had to eat another mouse or rat he was going to vomit. Ok, probably not but he had eaten so many of them he was sick of them. He spared a glimpse at his ribs, letting out a soft noise of discontent. He was thin ...always had been thin due to the slim pickings the Copse had left him with but it was more pronounced now than it'd been previously. Idly, he wondered in which ways he might fill out once he got the good food in his belly. Of course, Anastasia couldn't have her little trash prince eating good and becoming as strong as he was meant to be. He was svelte by nature but he remembered flashes of his father whose build he took after: sylph-like didn't mean weak by any sense of the word.
The thought of aspiring to be like his father or to look like him — something he had no control over — made his skin crawl and thus with a lick to his chops Tyulen returned to his investigating, if not a little over eager to distract himself from his thoughts.
His lips were a smooth line, his stare impassive as he took a few tentative steps towards a small rock formation. They appeared — a quick glance up was given to confirm — to be scattered through out the territory. The random boulders were ...strange, and there wasn't any sustainable prey scents. Squirrels, and mice, he deduced as he sniffed at the earth, pressing his muzzle against the soft soil delving past the rich fragrance of the earth to analyze the musky aromas of the rodents. Not enough to feed him ...but he consented that it would be enough to keep him from starving, and that was more welcome than anything else at the moment.
Being a one man hunt team meant that his meal options were extremely limited, and though he had never thought he'd think it — in fact it felt verboten to think it — he missed that aspect of Siberia Copse. He always was the last to eat but scraps of venison was better than measly teases of meat that rodents gave him; and frankly if he had to eat another mouse or rat he was going to vomit. Ok, probably not but he had eaten so many of them he was sick of them. He spared a glimpse at his ribs, letting out a soft noise of discontent. He was thin ...always had been thin due to the slim pickings the Copse had left him with but it was more pronounced now than it'd been previously. Idly, he wondered in which ways he might fill out once he got the good food in his belly. Of course, Anastasia couldn't have her little trash prince eating good and becoming as strong as he was meant to be. He was svelte by nature but he remembered flashes of his father whose build he took after: sylph-like didn't mean weak by any sense of the word.
The thought of aspiring to be like his father or to look like him — something he had no control over — made his skin crawl and thus with a lick to his chops Tyulen returned to his investigating, if not a little over eager to distract himself from his thoughts.
April 15, 2016, 09:56 AM
I hope you don't mind me :P
The mystical wolf had returned to the dreaded Teekon Wilds. It was destined, meant to be. She was better now, stronger. Hecate took a deep breath in, feeling the energy of the Earth's spring rebirth seep through her soul. But, something interesting caught her nose. A scent, it was.
Soon, she followed the scent, it leading her to a thin wolf, who seemed quite close to achieving a skeleton look. Her icy blue eyes sparkled with curiosity before she decided to speak.
"Hello, there, sir. It seems you are searching for something?" she called out. There was no time for introductions, as she could feel the Earth pulling her towards the peculiar wolf. Maybe the black wolf could lend some of her magic to this wolf, as he looked lost.
April 15, 2016, 04:58 PM
Not at all! Thanks so much for joining! <3
A voice called out to him and for a moment Tyulen froze, the streamlined muscles beneath his coat pulling taunt as he prepared, instantly, for fight or flight. A soft snort left the trash princes' leathery black nostrils, his sharp exhale aimed into the dust under foot, the cause of a small puff of it billowing up around his soot masked snout. His head rose slowly, sapphire gaze taking in the shadow borne form of the stranger that had made her presence known. Slowly, his salmon colored tongue swiped across his chops, collecting the dust that had settled upon his nose, tasting the earth for a moment. Still better than rat. Her icy blue gaze chilled him to the bone — which was only slightly ironic because he was thinner than he should have been; but Tyulen wasn't scared. What was there to be frightened of? Death? Death would be a welcomed respite from the hell Tyulen had called life. Probably, he should have died several times over now but he was too stubborn, too resilient and too much of a survivor to give up.
The stranger called him sir, and a sneer tugged at the corners of his sooty lips. “Faith, trust, and pixie dust,” His riposte was a familiar friend, a guard that probably aided in his survival skills. Cope and brush it off with a smirk and sharp sass ...and thus far it worked plenty well. “Does that answer your question?” It was a mechanism, so automatic these days that he wasn't sure he could tell if there was anything beneath that. Some logical part of him — not ruled by the stubbornness, obviously — warned him that chasing her away wasn't a practical or a particularly smart thing to do. After all, he was hungry and two of them stood a better chance at catching something substantial than just him on his own.
But he wouldn't ever beg for help, out of distrust and what little dignity and pride he was able to retain from the brief months in which his life had been good. The part of his life that felt like nothing more than something he had imagined up in his head. His gaze rested upon her with indifference, his ears cupped forth atop his skull as he awaited her response.
The stranger called him sir, and a sneer tugged at the corners of his sooty lips. “Faith, trust, and pixie dust,” His riposte was a familiar friend, a guard that probably aided in his survival skills. Cope and brush it off with a smirk and sharp sass ...and thus far it worked plenty well. “Does that answer your question?” It was a mechanism, so automatic these days that he wasn't sure he could tell if there was anything beneath that. Some logical part of him — not ruled by the stubbornness, obviously — warned him that chasing her away wasn't a practical or a particularly smart thing to do. After all, he was hungry and two of them stood a better chance at catching something substantial than just him on his own.
But he wouldn't ever beg for help, out of distrust and what little dignity and pride he was able to retain from the brief months in which his life had been good. The part of his life that felt like nothing more than something he had imagined up in his head. His gaze rested upon her with indifference, his ears cupped forth atop his skull as he awaited her response.
April 16, 2016, 05:04 AM
"Very funny," was all she replied with. Hecate was once a sassy, annoying wolf, thankfully had grown out of it. Pursing her lips, she thought for a moment.
"Are you hungry?" she asked. Obviously, he would be. He was practically halfway dead. It seemed the male was aware of his condition, but Hecate must've reminded him. The fortune teller felt that his demeanour had seemed a bit guarded at first, then it was as if he used sass as a defence. His personality was quite interesting, and the black wolf wanted to understand it.
"Are you hungry?" she asked. Obviously, he would be. He was practically halfway dead. It seemed the male was aware of his condition, but Hecate must've reminded him. The fortune teller felt that his demeanour had seemed a bit guarded at first, then it was as if he used sass as a defence. His personality was quite interesting, and the black wolf wanted to understand it.
is it day or night??? (maybe we can have some fortune telling later :P )
April 16, 2016, 05:21 AM
very early morning. c: ooh that'd be interesting, i'm not sure tyu would believe it but why not? ;D
She wasn't amused by his quip. It would be a rare day when he found another living creature that didn't mind his sassy retorts. He was used to the verbal abuse of Anastasia and for a very unfair moment he awaited it to follow. There was a slight moment of surprise when it did not follow and a wave of relief that washed over him in the according moments as the shadow woman's expression turned contemplative. This wide range of emotions within him burned quickly and with the skill of someone doing it all his life did not make it's way into the expressions of his face which remained snide.
He wasn't sure her interest in him but she did not appear like she had intentions of going anywhere soon. Internally, Tyulen struggled between wanting to be left alone and letting her hang around just because he was tired of being alone. In truth, Tyulen'd been alone the day his father had been murdered for his existence. “Shouldn't you ask my name before you ask me on a date?” Another quip, of course, because for him to use anything else would be to delve into something he wasn't sure he wanted to discover. His guard was familiar. It was self-created comfort where he'd been offered none. It was harshly forged strength he believed. For a moment he hesitated on the brink of lying to her and telling her that he wasn't hungry but the potential promise of something more than meager rodents and half rotted corpses left behind was so tempting that he had almost no will power to resist.
He wasn't sure her interest in him but she did not appear like she had intentions of going anywhere soon. Internally, Tyulen struggled between wanting to be left alone and letting her hang around just because he was tired of being alone. In truth, Tyulen'd been alone the day his father had been murdered for his existence. “Shouldn't you ask my name before you ask me on a date?” Another quip, of course, because for him to use anything else would be to delve into something he wasn't sure he wanted to discover. His guard was familiar. It was self-created comfort where he'd been offered none. It was harshly forged strength he believed. For a moment he hesitated on the brink of lying to her and telling her that he wasn't hungry but the potential promise of something more than meager rodents and half rotted corpses left behind was so tempting that he had almost no will power to resist.
April 16, 2016, 09:16 AM
There was no sign that he would stop the sass. Which annoyed Hecate greatly, but she attempted to dismiss the feeling. "If I were to date anyone, you would be the last on the list," the she-wolf pointed out sharply. Hesitating, her voice softened a bit. Sometimes, she would forget that she wasn't an alpha anymore, so she wasn't in a higher status than the thin man.
"Hecate. And you are?" she asked.
"Hecate. And you are?" she asked.
April 16, 2016, 02:41 PM
Her own retort was sharp, finely pointed and deadly like the point of a dagger aimed right at him. Yet, this was the kind of banter that Tyulen lived for. A soft snort left the trash prince's black, leathery nostrils as his sapphire eyes raked over her once in an assessment before he responded with a sneer. “Ouch, I'm hurt by that,” but of course her opinion of him didn't matter to him nor would it cause him any sort of sleepless nights. “Hecate, goddess of witchcraft,” He surmised absently with a soft rise and fall of his shoulders in a casual shrug. “You don't look like much of a goddess.” What a dumb idea to name your children after gods and goddesses. Like it would make a difference in the hand life dealt them. Like Czar. Named for king and slaughtered for committing treason. This almost made Tyulen glad his mother had been the most creative being in the world's history and named him “seal” in her native tongue. He'd been pudgy into childhood until she left him to die when the decline of childhood fat transitioned into the too thin adult he was, aided by the poor food he'd been given by Siberia Copse.
“Tyulen.” The trash prince offered her monotonously.
“Tyulen.” The trash prince offered her monotonously.
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