Sheepeater Cliff wendigo
i was born to the witch boleyn
1,707 Posts
Ooc — ebony
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#1
@Tiarnán:


she had departed, as had her daughter, the dark tonravik. lasher alone remained, for even eismitte had forsaken him. he had attempted to return unto the glen, but his way had been barred, and tears poured from his eyes as he cried for entrance. but donnelaith had not opened for taltos, and so he had traveled slowly back toward the mountains that reared in memory of tartok.

a heavy spring rain found the strange-eyes druid mourning in the lee of a rocky crag, the scent of woolly ruminants heavy in his nostrils. but it was not for himself that he wept; no, the fragrance of hot salt that wreathed into the cold air was for all that he had failed to do, and for that lasher cursed himself.

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#2
This might be set after Jinx accepts him but idk yet.

The forest was his home. It always had been, and always would remain as such. The boy could not entirely resist looking with an odd longing towards the distant mountains, and even slipping from the cover of the boughs from time to time, as if to drift closer. As soon as the earth transitioned to beach he would retreat - and it was in this disrupted state that he caught within the shadows of the forest once again, sheltered from a sudden spray of rain. The sound of the water dripping through the leaves was soothing, like a lullaby. Familiar. It spoke to him of days in the company of his family, which Tiarnan now deeply regretted leaving. The boy moved along through the drizzle without his usual fervour, lethargic in his gracelessness, but came to an abrupt halt when he heard the sounds of heavy breathing. It sounded like his own sadness made solid, made living, and in an instant Tiarnan was apprehensive.
i was born to the witch boleyn
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Ooc — ebony
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#3

presently, the man emerged into the rain, gaze alighting somberly upon the ruddy form of a youngling, wound through with earthen shades. the leaves brushed against his dark fur as lasher, struck with a sudden urge to divest himself of solitude, wended his way toward the young one.

taltos slowed to a halt, murkwater eyes watching the child, and that he was, despite his growth. but lasher did not know the true age of himself; he was at once both ageless and with the youth of a newborn child, and great sadness gripped him again, for that which had been lost him, and the unknowingness of siku's fate.

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#4
They sensed one another in tandem, with the stranger being the first to show his face. Prior interaction with wolves of this area had soured Tiarnan. He did not want to risk being chased further, and so had remained quiet in his sullen state. When the stranger emerged and caught the spring light, the youth looked upon him with a mixture of nervousness and familiarity; there was something about the nameless one that reminded him once again of home. Perhaps Tiarnan had simply been made lonely again with the departure of Bazi - the thought stung him, prompting a small whine - but still, he did not move to intercept. It seemed as if a staring contest had begun.
i was born to the witch boleyn
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#5

likewise, the sudden bird-flutter of his nerves carried his mind to donnelaith, and lasher closed his jaws around the word, whispering it into the gloom. 'twas loud enough for the other to hear, but taltos did not care. the things he deemed precious had escaped him, and the life that swelled his chest with breaths had lessened in its treasure to the glen-wolf.

you are alone? taltos tipped his head to his wary companion, breath rising in a plume from his maw. so unwilling was the dark one to be alone that he had even found satiation for his craving in the very presence of the reddish stranger, the chocolate sunset of his pelt bespeaking the blood-moon dance of the druids in donnelaith, from which he was locked.

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#6
The silence was broken first by the stranger, who intoned a turn of phrase upon him that the boy did not know. He was aware of how ignorant his own mind was to other languages, and the constant display of it made him more annoyed than wary now. He turned his lip to the stranger and flashed teeth. It was a brief display of his own, a bestial manner that Tiarnan was forced to use when faced with entities not of his own kind. Still, he ended up responding in his family's language: Bheadh ​​amháin a cheapann go mbeadh mac tíre a úsáid a srón roimh a dteanga. The words rolled from him with the same gravid note he had slurred toward the bear woman, idly hoping that this vagrant would show the same response, or simply leave him in terror.
i was born to the witch boleyn
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Ooc — ebony
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#7

the striking green that at times lit lasher's face now surged to the forefront of his gaze, and though his heart was buoyant, a sudden weakness gripped him and he sank to his ragged haunches in the trail before the boy. ní raibh a fhios agam labhair tú mianach, he breathed, dark ears folding back against his skull. it had been long years — too many for his count — since he had last heard the word of his secret heart spoken, and though unbidden, but perhaps expected, the swampwater eyes brimmed with tears that trekked slowly down his cheeks.

briste mo chroí, ach a aimsiú mé go bhfuil sé deisithe i do láthair, taltos breathed softly, though dread thrummed along his spine at the very thought that the red-hued boy was of donnelaith, as he was.

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#8
Whatever horror the boy expected to view from the other, he was not prepared at all for what truly occurred. Instead of fleeing, his company actually responded; it was enough to cripple the boy emotionally for a fleeing moment - and he buckled as if struck by something otherworldly, losing his apprehension and going closer to the stranger. The two were alike in that they were far from home, although Tiarnan was not too distant. He had only been out of the fold for a few months at the most, yet it felt perilous and agonizing with each passing day without his kin present. The boy was homesick, but the man before him represented home in every sense that mattered, connecting him to something familiar. Something he had lost and needed, desperately. Tiarnan let out a small whine as he came closer - bridging the gap and greedily pressing his snout against the other's silt-coloured scruff; Ach na daoine eile - nach féidir leo a thuiscint. Cad atá cearr leis an áit seo? Níl sé cosúil le mo chlann.