Blacktail Deer Plateau i just cannot even

For @Osprey @Yerpso the Elder. :) Bazi is a the north-western border, below the plateau.

Witnessing Björn's sacrifice to his gods had left Bazi visibly shaken. To calm her nerves and mull it over, she journeyed to the coast, keeping well west of the river that separated Horizon Ridge from unclaimed shore. A vicious wind agitated the water, so she settled for staring moodily at the horizon from dry land instead of the cleansing salt bath that had been the initial plan.

Distance allowed her to rationalize aspects of Björn actions. The cub wouldn't have survived, she knew that, but she felt an ache in her chest each time the memory of its desperate mewl replayed. It was the fact that that the babe had been dispatched as a sacrifice that bothered her. There had been a reverence in Björn's features as he addressed the voices in his head that Bazi could not - would not - accept was anything but insanity. What would happen when his gods whispered again? Would a wolf die? Bazi made a disgusted sound, and turned south - on her way back, she cut straight through Ravensblood Forest, and after a lengthy trek through grassy flatland caught the scent of unknown wolves. She was at a border, and it did not belong to the ridge.

Bazi stashed the day's trauma into the back of her mind, and took a seat at the edge of the invisible line that separated free territory from pack land. Ahead of her was an imposing, wooded plateau, and she assumed that she must be sitting at the packs outermost north-western border. The dainty scout thought back to her encounter at the ridge, and made the decision to howl rather than wait, lest someone mistook her presence there for spying. A high, feminine howl spiraled into the air and wafted south. Bazi waited, eyes bright and plush ears facing forward - with any luck, her greeter would be of friendlier ilk than those wolves she had encountered elsewhere.

ooc: I will have to check Bjorn's posts to understand, what exactly he did to scare Bazi so much. :P

Ever since the birth of little ones Osprey had kept to herself. She had gone to congratulate the new parents briefly, but hadn't stayed there long, respecting their privacy. It was Perry's and Hawkeye's celebration of welcoming the new life in the world, reserved for the tight circle only, which meant that she stood on the sidelines. But the joy wasn't long-lived, because Pied - her niece - had passed away during childbirth. She had not known Velox's girl all that well, there hadn't been any strong mutual attachment and yet she felt the loss so acute as if a good friend had died. She was part of the Redlief-DiSarinno family after all.

Therefore days after her death weren't very happy and the young girl found it hard to think about other important things. Her mind kept returning to the young she-wolf with the odd colored coat, who was too young to die. It was not fair and at the same it made her question her own fate and time in this world. Death didn't come per schedule - it could take you any moment. Blow the candle out and leave you in the eternal darkness.

A melodic howl interrupted her quiet ponderings and, since she wasn't too far from the borders, Osprey decided to go and check, who was knocking at the door. She had no desire to muster up a dominant and defensive mask, therefore, when she met the white she-wolf that was patiently waiting on the brink of the Plateu lands, she looked tired and only a little bit curious about the stranger. "What are your business here?" Osprey asked, stopping not too far from the girl and tilting her head slightly to the side.

He sacrificed a little baby cougar, and she thinks sacrifice is disgusting. I'm trying to make Bazi believably anti-religious, but it's hard to play out! :D

There was something .. defeated about the stranger that greeted her, displaying no obvious signs of dominance, aggression, or even excitement (the last of which was Bazi's choice reaction to most anything, but it wasn't very often appropriate in Teekon Wilds). This was new to the visitor, who wagged her tail experimentally at the grey Plateau wolf, "I'm from Swiftcurrent Creek," she replied, "Bazi. I'm the scout - or trying to be - and I hadn't met anyone from here yet, and I wanted to make myself known.." she trailed off, and was suddenly struck by a random idea. "Have you heard of someone called Lecter?" she asked, bold as brass. Nobody seemed to know where the old witch-doctor came from, or why she smelled like corpse, and the yearling's curiosity grew stronger with each wolf that shrugged her off.

Bazi was an exact opposite of, how Osprey was feeling now. Cheerful, bold, brave and a bit reckless too, since going from pack to pack just to have a small-talk with it's members sounded a bit too odd even for her adventurous self. On the other hand, looking at her made the grey she-wolf feel old for the first time in her life. Here she was worn-out and depressed by the recent unhappy events in the pack and then there was this young wolf, who didn't seem to be burdened by any troubles at all.

"Good to meet you, Bazi," she replied and smiled politely at her. "My name is O..." she hesitated, remembering her promise to Peregrine that once Osprey Jr. was born, she would change her name. "... Yerpso," the girl continued with a crooked and amused grin. "And no - I don't know anything about Lecter," even though the name itself sounded a bit scary. "Have you heard anything about Schnoodle-bat?" she asked in return.

Even though she had endured her fair share of unpleasantness, Bazi's youth made it much easier to forget. Her conscious mind was unaccustomed to dealing with trauma, and deferred to its subconscious counterpart whenever the experience came within shouting distance of harrowing. The sickness was already a dim memory, and the grieving was done.

"Schnoodle-bat?" Bazi stared, showing her naivety by misinterpreting Yerpso's teasing. Her eyes grew wide, and questions came flooding out. "What's that? Does it bite? Do you have one? Is that what your medic is called?"

Osprey's first intention was to admit that she had no idea, but that it had seemed a fair point to add to the mix of imaginary and non-existent creatures. She was pretty sure that this she-wolf had come up with the whole Lecter-thing out of the blue. But the array of questions the girl asked next sparked up gears of her imagination, she felt a sudden burst of excitement and for a moment it was like the sun had managed to get through the cloudy sky.

"Oh yeah... it has big, poisonous fangs and there is icky green goo streaking down from them," she told, her expression dead serious and not a single feature in her face would betray the fact that she was making this up as it went. "It is pretty aggressive and one bite can make you delirious - you will be so poisoned, you will see things that don't exist," she went on. "Yellow crocodiles, pink elephants, howling hyenas..."

"There is one wandering around these lands," her voice became low, a mere whisper, as if she was sharing a particular secret. "So, beware..."

Eta party. :)

There was more than a hint of falsehood in Osprey's (or Yerpso's) tale; enough even for Bazi to pick up on. Stories well told had a tendency to hold her captive, though - which was surprising for someone that was so ready to shun dearly held beliefs, often encapsulated in stories, as idiocy.

"I know how to get like that," she whispered back, making shifty eyes in both directions of the border. "Delirious, I mean. It happens if you eat too many poppies, so maybe that's what's happening. It nests in poppies, breathes all that stuff in - and that fuels the venom. Do you have any poppies around here?"

Bazi didn't believe the story and Osprey hadn't intended her to either. However rather than telling her - don't be ridiculious - she played along. A little far-fetched story session was just, what she needed, to steer her mind away from the sad thoughts. Delirious was a familiar term, though poppies were not. These plants weren't common at the place she had lived most of her life and Flightless falcons had always been such a busy buzzing beehive, where extraordinary events weren't rare at all, that hardly anyone would need anything stimulating to get away from boredom.

But Osprey wasn't going to let the other know that she didn't know something. "Nope - not here in this season anyway," she said, but added a conspiring wink, as if she still had some secrets about this plant. "Now that you have made yourself known," she leaned back to her initial position. "what are you going to do next?"

Bazi giggled girlishly and tried to wink back, but didn't quite manage it - both eyes closed instead of one. When she opened them, Osprey had retreated, and talk was back to business.

"Search for a schnoodle-bat for dinner, maybe?" she jested, but added more seriously, "I'm scouting for my pack, like I said. I've met the Horizon Ridge guardian, and a few wolves from the Vale.. we aren't on the best terms after a few misunderstandings, but I'm sure it'll pass. Are you the guardian here? Could I ask where you tend to do your hunting? So that we can be courteous when prey starts to flood back in." It would not be wise to be on poor terms with all the neighbours.

"Good luck with that," Osprey said with a smile. Had she felt a bit better, she would have initiated a game of "lets look for the schnoodle-bat". However, she was not in the right mood for that, therefore she dropped this subject and listened carefully to what else the girl had to say.

"So... you walked all this way from those mountains," she beckoned to the distant mountaintops with her head, "to scout for your pack here?" It was clear from her expression that this made no sense to her at all. What benefit would Swiftcurrent creek have by scouting so far from their home? Bones had been plain weird, but she had thought that this girl had more sense in her.

The next question was met with a quizzical smile and a little pause. "Do you know the first rule of a good hunter?" she asked Bazi. "Never reveal other hunters, which are your hunting grounds. Even if their reasons to ask are pretty polite and noble."

Legitimate question - it did seem a bit daft to stray so far from home (Bazi would soon restrict herself to the east, but for more ominous reasons than 'can't be arsed'). "Yeah. It's far - I know; I'm used to fifty packs crowding each other - old habits die hard," she explained smilingly, "Food was harder to come by."

Those old habits weren't particularly old at all - they were things she had been taught, hardly had time to practice, and would soon give up in favour of a more stay-at-home attitude. Teekon Wilds packs were aggressive, and what they called borders were actually the innermost wall of several - all guarded. Truth be told, she was just plain curious, and one day that would get her killed.

Osprey - or Yerpso - refused her request for information, with good reason. Bazi felt awkward now - like a child playing pretend at diplomacy (which she was). This wolf was civil and kind, but there was no natural reason for them to fraternize - certainly not at pack-land borders. "I should go back," she said, out of conversation and suddenly nervous in the shadow of the plateau. Fox hadn't sent her, after all, and her visit might be misconstrued by whoever was watching from higher ground.

I'm used to fifty packs crowding each other - old habits die hard. Seahawk valley had been a decently crowded place, because you couldn't pass a meadow or forest without catching a sight of another wolf. But fifty? That was a bizarre number even for Osprey, who knew more numbers than the rest of the average folk. She leaned to scratch the side of her neck, then staightened herself and shook her coat.

Her remark had made the young wolf uneasy, even though this hadn't been Osprey's intention. They had just met and now the lass was planning to sneak away after having, what it seemed a fraction of conversation. "Leaving so soon?" Osprey asked, feeling a bit surprised by the sudden decision. "If you travelled so far - make your journey worthwhile at least," that would be just the thing she would do, had she walked a distance that long.

"I am fond of stories, therefore you have to tell at least one, before you go," she politely requested.

"If you travelled so far - make your journey worthwhile at least."

Bazi hesitated. Technically, the Plateau was a stop on her way home, and she felt weary now. But Osprey was pleasant, and the Creek wolf's attempt had peacekeeping had been so woefully awkward and out of place that a story might just set things right.

"I can do that," she decided out loud, and sat back down. Stories weren't her forte, but auntie Nura had been an excellent storyteller until Shar-Kali had threatened to slit her throat for the offence. But there was no Shar-Kali here to tell her off, and Bazi remembered the stories.

"Far, far north, where the sun doesn't rise for months at a time, there was this pack of wolves," she began, clearly lacking her late aunt's panache for storytelling but giving it a good go.

"The eternal darkness - that was what it was called - was about to happen. They had filled up all their caches and were hunkering down; you can't do much when it's that dark, even when your eyes get used to it."

"Every now and then, a couple of sentries would go out a bit further and make sure nothing was going to surprise them in the darkness. Two wolves went - one big warrior, and a smaller sentry. The pack waited for an hour - then two. Then three - then a whole day."

"On the second day, they thought they could hear groans in the darkness, but it didn't sound like a wolf. A wolf would have howled - this sounded like something dead; like the wind moving through rocks."

"But eventually - on the third day - they heard footsteps. It was foggy, and even the keenest eye couldn't see anything. Slowly, slowly, two shapes - one big, one small - materialized. 'You're back!' one wolf shouted, 'Where have you been!' shouted someone else... but they got no response. And as the two wolves came closer, they saw why."

"There was hardly anything left of the flesh on their faces. The skin had peeled back from their nose and jaws and muzzle and was sloughing off in black, slippery scraps. But they walked - and they moaned, hungrily, bony mouths open wide. 'Wait!' said the elder, 'Stop! ... "

Dramatic pause.

"Sometimes, on a particularly black night in the north, you can hear a chorus of moaning howls - that's when you know to go back inside, post your guards, and wait for light."

The story ended there. It was much shorter than Nura's version, and probably not as eloquent - but she had managed to get to a similar sort of end.

".. was that OK?" she asked, looking both hopeful and nervous.

A ghost story - full of blood, walking dead and mysterious darkness - Osprey didn't hear them often, because she didn't favor this particular kind very much and most of the folk she had met were up for a more light-hearted version. However, just because the genre was not hers, it did not mean that she couldn't be an attentive listener. Therefore all the time Bazi told her story, Osprey's expression was curious and satisfied. Because it was a good story, it captivated you and let many loose ends for speculations.

"I had never heard this one before," Osprey said, when Bazi had finished. She smiled at her sincerely, thus telling her that she had had a good time and that the story had been wonderful. "I will return the favor, before you go," she continued. "Give me five characters you want to hear in a story and I will come up with one just for you," this was one of her favorite games and she was looking forward for the challenge.

Bazi breathed a soft sigh of relief. That had been her first story in.. months, but probably her best despite it. Supernatural stories had not been popular in her youth, and to tell one felt daring. Osprey's suggestion was one she tucked away for future use. Fox liked to tell the occasional story, as did Ferdie - perhaps the would be interested in playing this game too.

"OK, you're on. A ... vain queen, two lusty men, a wild pig, and .. a god." Three of those characters were borrowed, the wild pig had no story at all, and the god was another daring move. It felt quite refreshing not to have to defend ideals, or care - this was a stranger, and they were unlikely to meet again.

"Very well - give me a minute," Osprey memorized the five characters, closed her eyes and didn't say a single word for five or six minutes. The creative part of her mind was working in full speed - making a web of connections and associations with those words, drawing images and tying the possible turn of events, making a good plotline step by step. Finally, when a vague idea of the story was molded, she opened her eyes and smiled. She was ready.

"Once upon a time in a faraway land there lived a pack of wolves. They were a big family, led by a noble and fair king and a queen, who was the most beautiful being that had ever walked the Earth. If only her beauty had matched her character... she was vain and mean and spent most of the days, staring at her reflection in the lake, acknowledging over and over again that nothing more perfect and amazing had ever been created.

The king, of course, knew her flaws, but he was blinded by love and, since the rest of the family favored and respected him, they kept their dislike for the beautiful queen to themselves. One day a wild pig passed through their lands. And not any kind of, but one a hunter would be willing to give anything up to to hunt it down. It was big, it's pelt was in an unusual white color, streaked with golden guard hair and it's tusks were of pure gold.

It didn't take long before they wete engaged in a hunt and the queen, who usually didn't join the hunts for fear of damaging her beauty, ran at the front of the group. Her eyes were on the golden tusks and the unusal pelt, which she desired to have to herself so much. But the creature was very quick and agile - every time they came near it, it managed to run off again. One by one the hunters grew tired and in the end only queen was still going after it.

They ran long and the queen had run past the borders of their home a very long time ago. They arrived in a clearing, the wild pig stopped, turned to face the she-wolf and all of a sudden changed it's form. It turned out to be not a wild pig but one of the great spirits of the forest itself (they are called gods in other cultures). He told her that her beauty had infatuated him and that he desired to claim her as his lifelong mate. The queen was flattered at first, but her vanity got the better of her and she told that in order to have her, the spirit had to do various quests to gain her appreciation.

Keep in mind that spirits are not to be toyed with and this was no different, it grew angry and kidnapped her.

Back at home the king waited for his queen's return, then began looking for her. While the pack was glad that their vain ruler was gone, the king grew more sad and depressed with every passing day. Until he handed the throne to his most loyal subordinate and set off to find the lost queen.

It took him a long time and a lot of adventures to finally find a thread of, what had happened to his love - but this will be left to be told for another time. One day he arrived in the same clearing, where the spirit of the forest had taken his mate hostage. He called for him and challenged for a fight. And it would have resolved in the spirit killing the king, because no mortal can fight a spirit and win, if not for something that transpired between them.

The spirit appeared, having taken a form of a big wolf. There were words left unsaid, a fight that never took place. Because the moment their eyes met, they knew that they were meant to be together. That one of a kind, love at first sight thing - unexplainable, irrational, but very real. They stood there looking at each other for a long while and then came together and embraced.

The spirit freed the queen, but the king no longer saw her beauty or allure that had held him captive for a very long time. His eyes were only on the spirit and the spirit couldn't turn away from him. They set on a journey around the world from that point on, went through many hardships and difficulties, but always found consolation, strength and happiness in each other. When the king had become an old man and his soul went through the veil to the other side, the spirit followed him. For they had sworn to each other so many years before that they would be together for better or worse, in life and death," she finished her long tale and smiled at Bazi.

"That's all."

Those five or six minutes were worth it. By the time Osprey reached the conclusion of her story, Bazi's eyes were brimming with tears. She rubbed them away on the inside of her knee, flushing with embarrassment under her bright-white coat. That was a story. That was the world where gods and spirits and every forbidden thing belonged, safely encapsulated in fiction. It was without a doubt the best story she had ever heard, and the first one she had allowed herself to truly enjoy without fear of the repercussions.

"I hope you tell your pack stories," Bazi croaked - a sound that surprised her, and she was quick to clear her throat. "That was the most beautiful story I have ever heard."

Stories were meant to be shared with others and if they made the time spent listening worthwhile, then the story had achieved it's goal. Bazi's amazement of her skills flattered her a little, but she didn't think that the tale was something extraordinary. Now that she had told it, she could find numerous flaws in the plotline and the choice of words and characters. Osprey could improve here and there, refine the various lines and edges, make it more grand. However - you needed to know, where to stop, otherwise editting could turn out to be a neverending process.

"You are the first to hear it and don't forget that this is dedicated to you," she said and winked. Stories were good gifts in her opinion. Especially if you came up with them yourself. "Haven't had a chance yet, but maybe someday," Osprey replied.

Bazi's story. She smiled widely at that. It was far more exciting than her actual, much shorter history, which didn't have much of a plot. There were no golden tusks, no queens, and no spirits.

"I'll treasure it. And re-tell it - maybe not as well, though." There wasn't much depth to Bazi's imagination, and her story-telling was a bit flat - she wondered how Osprey had come to possess such a talent for it. Her eyes drifted to the plateau in the distance. It offered better protection than the Creek did, boasting natural barriers on all sides. "Is everyone here like you? Friendly, I mean," she asked, squinting at the hint of a treeline on top of the plateau. This was by far the most relaxed reception she'd had at a pack's borders - Swiftcurrent Creek included.

Osprey had been a social butterfly at Flightless falcons, but not here. She hadn't lost her friendliness, natural curiosity of the people she met along the way, as well as the outgoing nature, yet she had kept to her tight-knit family circle for the past two months. Rob, Blue Willow and, of course, Hawkeye were the only other people she had talked with and formed some sort of bonds. As for the rest - it was a shame that she hadn't done it.

"It depends," Osprey replied, choosing the most neutral way to describe her fellow packmates. Their healer was definitely of the friendly and welcoming kind, however, her brothers and the alpha female could be very defensive of their land. Even moreso now that the puppies were born.

"On the weather, time of the day, their mood, luck or lack of it and so on. For example, don't expect a warm welcome from Peregrine, if you howl for him in the middle of the night. Especially now," she didn't know much about his sleeping habits now though, but she was speculating, not sharing general truths. "Or... I wouldn't be as half as friendly, if there weren't the sun peeking through the clouds," she beckoned to the small window the sun had managed to create in the gray and solid mass of clouds.

Peregrine. Bazi made a note of the name, though she was aware that Fox already had some sort of relationship with the Plateau alpha. As far as she knew, it was neutral to good, and her own pleasant interaction today could only strengthen relations between the two packs. They were far enough apart for competition over land and prey to be a nonexistent problem, and both groups seemed to keep to themselves. Blue Willow, Osprey's healer, was welcome to the east of the mountains as far as Bazi was concerned.

"Seems fair enough," she agreed, nodding. "But you've got good natural boundaries here, so I'm guessing visitors close to the borders are infrequent," she noted, nodding at the imposing plateau. The Creek had no natural boundaries, but its inhabitants more than made up for that shortcoming. "Have you been to Swiftcurrent Creek?" she asked, "Or do you need any messages delivered?" It was time to head back - Bazi had quite a journey ahead of her, and she would use it to recite the details of Osprey's story to herself until they were properly memorized.

ooc: My last post here. Thank you for the thread.

"No, I haven't," Osprey replied. In fact, she had heard about this pack for the first time in her life today, when Bazi had appeared knocking at the door of her home. Even, when she had been in Flightless Falcons, she didn't have a habit of wandering too far, since there always was something exciting going on in their own lands.

"Not really," she declined Bazi's polite offer, because the white she-wolf was the only one she knew from there. "I have to go now," she got to her feet, "it was nice talking to you." She offered a kind smile and, before leaving, waited a little, in case Bazi had anything more to say.

You too! I'll archive.

There was precious little for wolves from different packs to talk about. Teekon Wilds was large enough to make interactions outside your own family rare, and they were short or hostile or both when they did happen. Theirs had been an unusual meeting, but ultimately pointless for both parties - it was unlikely that Osprey would venture beyond the borders of her own pack, and Bazi had no real reason to visit again. Even if they had not sown the seed of something lasting, she would treasure the story.

Predictably, Osprey had no message for the Creek. Bazi got to her feet, and made to move in the direction of Horizon Ridge - or at least the stretch of neutral mountain that bordered it. "Until next time," she said by way of farewell, smiling back at the storyteller. Both wolves turned away, and started back towards their respective families.