Dragoncrest Cliffs anatomy of a tidal wave

The start of heavy rain! Any and all welcome (even howl-cameos!) <3 Dated: 5/22

The morning started out dull and hazy. A fog lay heavy over the cliffs that made it impossible to see the roaring waves beneath, giving her a feeling creeping up the length of her spine. With the days turning into summer, the heavy winds are gusts of warm air. The rain is evident to take over the rest of the day but the heaviness of the world around them gives her a bad feeling. Her ears droop to her head as she lingers near the lake. The sky has yet to break but as the day moves onward, they are given less and less light and the beginning of rain teasing her thinning summer coast.

It is barely more than a mist in the moment but the ominous feeling continues to grow and eventually the raindrops increase in side. Her nose wrinkles when one hits her square between the eyes and she shakes her head, huffs her breath, and steps away from the cliff and back toward the watering hole.

It is deserted as she sets her feet in the open terrain. Small ripples turn larger in the lake as the rain grows with each passing minute. There’s several minutes where it lights again, as if it might curve around and miss them entirely, and all at once it whoops from the south, engulfing the territory within seconds of discovery. Her fur is soaked in no time and she lifts her nose to howl, though the thunderous rain dampens the weight it carries through the entire territory when she only wants to know everyone is safe.

One minute she is cloud watching and the next there is a torrential downpour soaking into her fur, and chilling her skin. 

Tirgatao gathers herself up quickly and bolts for the relative cover of the towering redwoods. Still, even beneath their impressive boughs, a few rogue drops crash down onto her and one even connects square on the muzzle. She snorts, shakes her head, and pins her ears only to collect herself and speed onward in the direction of the caverns. For as much as she loved the rain she wasn't terribly fond of looking and feeling like a drowned rat. She had standards, after all.

A howl broke through the deafening roar of the storm as she neared the lake and as she rounded the bend, none other than Heda came into view. Her ears immediately flipped forward (spraying a few drops across her nose) out of curiousity only to settle back against her sodden mane. A summer squall was nothing to be concerned about, really, but she was glad that Thuringwethil thought to take count of their number all the same. It was what made her not just a good leader, but an excellent one.

Tirgatao chuffed and stretched her nose out to lick the underside of Heda's chin should she welcome the advance. She then waved her tail in a couple slow sweeps, "Guess we were due for a storm." She remarked with an amused quirk of her lips.

cameooo

 

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He goes where she goes; that much is clear about where he stands. Even as the impending signs of a storm that would normally send him into solitude, he lifts himself and follows each footstep she takes. It makes him hate her even more, and for a brief second he allows himself to imagine her slipping on the water that is sure to come and tummbling down a hill. Of course, he can only imagine. In reality he is bound to the woman in a situation he has never been in before. From a boy with everything to his name, reduced to a thrall who does not even own his own life by any accord, the adjustment is a rocky one. But in the time he takes to fully emerge the warrior she moulds him to be, he allows himself to be Isengrim Cairn, son of the Leviathan. The Barracuda; if only just for a second. 

For now, he stalks quietly behind the woman, pausing when she pauses, and being her eyes when she is not looking. When he is not loathing her very existence, perhaps there is the slightest suggestion of fidelity in whatever twisted affection he holds for her, and at the back of his mind, recognises that without her, he can never become the man he needs to become. The man who will bring his family home once again and reclaim the abandoned land on the shore he was thrown off of. So, at every encounter does he tense, watching as the other approaches the Commander, and calulating each movement she makes in the presence of the Commander. Even if the other happens to be one of them, he does not trust. It goes beyond what is assigned to him and he knows it, the only reason he does is ultimately for his own benefit; the way it is and will always be. 

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The downpour of rain does not deter her from duty and she does not seek shelter right away. The thunder rumbles the ground from a distance but there is still no urgency when she turns to find Tirgatao approaching. Her nose angles up when she comes to nudge her chin and relaxes as distance is put between them once more. She glances around through the heavy barrier of the rain, noting the Honon in the distance. He does not approach and she gives him no more acknowledgment as she turns back to the advisor.

“Sha,” she agrees, ears cupping forward and flickering with the irritation of heavy drops. “The lake has been low,” she observes, turning back out to the water. The promise of the rain given to them now in this moment will refresh the lake and hopefully pull in more prey for them.

Thuringwethil considers returning to the cavern to dry off but she knows she’ll suffer through a newly humid sauna with the rest of the pack and for the moment, she’ll enjoy what the world has given them. It doesn’t necessarily have to be a bad thing. The guardians don’t have to be a bad omen. The rain is a good thing. Her silver eyes glance away toward Isengrim once more but it doesn’t last long either. She remains in her native tongue and with the added cover of the rain blocking out most of the sound, she speaks at ease: “Hush fig au Finbak en sue. Ai don no sin in fou Seageda.”

As with everything, there is cause and effect. Tirgatao is familiar with the turn of the world, and she is grateful for the rains and their lifegiving waters. The lake, as Heda noted, was a natural draw for prey animals. Soon they would seek clean sources of water as the spring waxed onward to summer. Summertime was a favorite of Tirgatao's, but only because she could enjoy the warmth of the sun without it being too unbearable—her pale coat shed a great deal of heat by design. The same could not be said for poor Thuringwethil.

The mention of the guardian catches her off-guard, and her smile fades momentarily as she twists her head to observe Heda's expression. She seems at ease with this information, so Tirgatao allows her serene smile to unravel once more. A thought occurs to her, but she doesn't put voice to it just yet. Instead she hums, though it is hardly heard over the roar of the storm. "I haven't seen one since I was a girl." She remarked with a flick of her ear, continuing in the same thoughtful tone. "It seems timely, doesn't it? This storm and a guardian in the same week." 

The correlation between the two has lingered in her mind the last several days and she hopes it is only a blessing. There is never a blessing where work is not required and the heaviness of the storm makes her wonder just how long the rain will last them. Drageda has been doing well since the children have been born. Their outsiders have not put a strain on them with the extra family they have to carry now and she feels an easiness in her chest she has not in sometime. The weight of the storm is no added weight to the struggles they’ve run into and has been able to handle with good standing.

Thuringwethil smiles then with little effort to lighten her features despite the cloudiness that looms. “Sha,” she agrees with a whip of her soaked tail. “De foutaim hedas ar hosh,” she announces with a flick of her ears. It is not uncommon for their silence, especially since Seageda has been no more. They are there, she is certain, and they have not forsaken them. The guardians have been invited to their borders and their cliffs are safe, but they have not appeared to her in some time still.