Blackbeak Bluff The night wages on

He was close, he had followed the directions Gavriel had given him very closely. The lay of the land was starting to look as the older man had described. Finally he would see his Commander again, he would be home.

He took a moment to take in the beauty around him. The Teekon Wilds were certainly a beautiful and hospitable place. Thuringwethil couldn't have picked a better place to start again, his pride swelled for her and her accomplishments. He had time, Cecil thought to himself, as he sat on the hard surface of the Bluff.

He was a domineering figure to any who might come upon him. His dark fur, and large form would be hard to see in the dark night that surround the male. However, his amber eyes gave almost a glowing effect, when contrasted with the darkness of his fur and the subsequent surrounding of evening. He currently had his tail wrapped around his paws, to keep them warm against the salty spray of the water. His eyes watching the waves crash against the earth.

@Seabreeze or @Mirabelle or whoever you want to throw in here Kati, here is your surprise :P

You gave me the first bit of muse I ever had to bring this character into the Teekons, hope you don't mind that I use my beloved headchild.

Corva woke by moonlight, traveling without aim yet still with purpose — an enticing and dangerous contradiction.  Night always had a way of unveiling what the garish, haunting light of day hid from her clouded eyes and she noted that these strange lands she had been drawn to were strikingly beautiful underneath the soft haze of moonlight.  Though she never stayed in one place very long, she mused that perhaps if she were a wolf that could ever settle down that it would be here.  

She had seen these lands before, flashes of them appearing to her in dreams and visions, she had felt its presence though she had never touched it and as her paws hit these hallowed grounds she felt a presence within her, shifting, a breath of fresh air as she realized that this is where she had been called.

She pushed forward, smelling the salt as the crisp ocean breeze washed over her and although she feared the crashing waves of the sea she knew she could not refute the feeling that she was drawn to them, the moon calling her towards those rising tides.  Just as sure as she is in this she is in the thought that it is no coincidence that there is someone there, perhaps fated to be waiting for her on this night.

To many, the shadow of a girl seemed to just appear, as if she had just begun to exist when she reveals herself to them in the night, but she wonders abesently if that someone who was as dark as she had learned to be aware of the presence of others.  She withheld her words; what was there to say?  It was something that her visions, the stars, the gods could not provide her with.  So her full-moon eyes turned upon the stranger and waited for him — whatever his reaction would be.

headchilds are the best! you're writting has brought my own muse out! for that i thank you :)

He hadn't heard her approach, it was more a feeling, a disturbance in the air that another was with him. As he turned his head slowly to land an amber gaze on the woman, he almost missed her. If not for her moonesk gaze, he would have thought himself imagining things. The very gaze that gave him sanity, also transfixed him. The moon his favorite companion, was made mortal by this females very presence.

"Another travels by the moonlight." Cecil stated, although he almost regretted breaking the silent bond that hovered between them. "Perhaps our own darkness makes us immune to the surrounds of night." His voice was barely over a whisper, and yet it seemed to loud and mangled. Perhaps silence would have been the best course. Yet he found he needed to affirm that she was in fact real, and not a figment of his outlandish imagination.

Just as she had imagined she might, it seems that she had startled him.  The man's gaze turned to her, his dark pelt setting the stage for fiery, glowing eyes.  She feels something rising up in her, jealous of him (as she is with everyone with working eyesight) but almost even more so with this creature because he looked so much like her that it was easier to imagine herself with his eyes instead of her own china-dish eyes.

Down, down down, she pushes against the feelings that bubble in her chest.  They would not be allowed to surface here.

The shade only laughed at his response — not the cruel, jabbing laughter one might expect from such a creature but instead a low chuckle.  I only travel beneath the cover of my mistress, she offers, subtly responding to both of his statements.

What brings you here tonight, hūra-azantys?

Cecil found himself most intrigued by the blind she-wolf, although he couldn't be sure that she actually was without sight she didn't act as though she was in any way. Her laughter, while mysterious brought a slight smile to his own dark maw. A worshiper of the night, he presummed by the inclining of mistress.

"I'm looking for someone, and I've been distracted by a beauty." Cecil's fiery gaze remained fixed on her pale orbs, even as he referenced the moon of in the distance. "I can never resist a beautiful sight." A light incline of his lips, was the only evidence that he teased her with. "What does hūra-azantys mean?" He tried his best to make his tonge move in the correct pronounciation, however failed miserably.

Corva was a pious woman but not in the way others often thought.  Blessed and haunted by visions, she wasn't sure if she was given a gift by the gods or if perhaps she was one, though she was at most times not so bold to assume the latter.  Her vision by daylight was hazy; she could make out shapes and colour but details were lost, fuzzy.  It was only by night that her vision peaked.

The shade remains unoffendable, a flicker of admiration appearing on her face at his attempt to speak her tongue.  His question stumps her; languages and their variations often lacked direct translations but she did what she could. Knight of the Moon; moon-knight.  She wondered if her description was accurate; the woman had a striking, critical eye for detail and his mesomorphic body type had not escaped it.  But all who were large did not use their brawn for battle and she had room to be incorrect in her assumptions.

She casts her gaze to the sky, lingering on the stars.  I do not blame you.  You are lucky.

He gave a lingering smile before droping his gaze to the rock beneath their paws, and looking back out to the evening sky. "The warrior in me appreciates the distinction." Cecil gave a short, and quiet laugh. Indeed he was little more than a warrior at the moment, a foot soldier, however he aspired to greatness one day. To be able to protect the Commander. He hoped that one day he might prove his worth as more than just a warrior, perhaps as a diplomat or a scholar. He wasn't to sure yet, but one day.

"And what brings you out here tonight Natshana-Sin?" As she had enthralled him with he language he would do that same of his own. Although he had a feeling she might pronounce it better than he had hers.

Natshana-Sin, she whispers, a language she decidedly liked but had never had the pleasure of hearing before.  Her flews pull back in a grin, revealing a set of alabaster fangs that glow against her pelt.  What does it mean?

Her tongue falls heavy in her mouth.  When she had spoken of her visions, her spirituality before she had been branded a monster.  But she was led here, surely they would not fail her now. I was drawn here, is the only answer she is willing to give now; the rest depends on how much he pries.

Without removing his gaze from the scene that played out before them, Cecil smiled, "There is no direct translation, however in essence it meant, Moon-sighted." He decided in that moment that he loved the way his language dripped from her tongue. "Trigedasleng suits you." He praised her pronounciation.

Drawn here? He quirked a brow at her, as he looked over at the woman over his sholder. "Drawn here?" Cecil spoke his thoughts a loud. "Drawn here to this place? Or to me?" He couldn't be sure what would draw her here, however Cecil would forgo the opportunity to possible learn more. What he was learning only time would tell.

Moon-sighted.  What an ever-accurate depiction of the recluse.  She sighed at the moniker: was it in jest or appreciation that he dubbed her?  Her doubt is assuaged (only somewhat) by his admiration of his native tongue.

His confusion pleases her in a way she cannot define, and she toys with it for a moment, avoiding the answer he seeks. Neither.  Both.  Each were true in their own right.  Her gaze fixes upon him once more, predatory, as she divulges her innermost secret — if need be, he can be one of the many she will never see again.  I have visions.  I dreamt of the Teekons, I was embodied in them before I was present.  

She draws a breath, running her tongue across her lips.  I was drawn to this shore but I feel our encounter was fated.

Cecil frowns at her toying nature, however he waits patiently for her to continue. If she will.

Which to the ebony males relief she does. He is surprised by her revelation, he has known of visions. However, knowing what might come to pass has never been a blessing in his eyes. He knew of a council-woman once, who had visions. She forsaw the death of someone close to the Commander once, but there was nothing she could do to stop it. Her warning had caused the death, yet there was no way for her to know until it was to late.

She had killed herself the following day.

Cecil looked away from her, "What a burden." He stated it simply, with melancholy in his tone. "Fate is a fickle thing, however I doubt I have to tell you that." Cecil closed his eyes, shrouding his amber orbs. "Do you believe our predetermined encounter was for our good? Or our downfall?" He wasn't sure she would have the answer, or even if he wanted to know the answer. Yet he couldn't help but ask futher, perhaps that was fate too.

He spoke of this burden she carried so heavily on her shoulders as if he knew, and the feeling was so intimate she recoiled visibly, withdrawing into herself.  She knew he had meant no insult by it, perhaps he was speaking of secondhand experience but she could not help to feel scorned.  Her expression darkened.

I do not know, she answers, praying that their downfall would not be something she catalyzed, but I suppose we will find out.  She did not know how long she would stay, and she assumed that the stranger would have to be on his way soon to find who he had originally been seeking.  By now she had returned to her normal posture, but her moon gaze would remain averted, even from his sheltered eyes.  

"My people used to believe that visions were messages from the gods, a way of warning or of blessing." Cecil spoke softly, even though he had missed the recoil, as he opened his eyes he could see her aversion. He couldn't be sure what had caused her reclusion, however he felt sadened that he had lost her steady gaze.

"Are you alone?" The suddeness of his question startled even himself, he had no idea as to why he had asked, however he felt it was important. "I can't imagine what your visions tell you, nor can I imagine enduring them alone. Whether they are good or bad." Cecil shrugged, they were strangers, and yet he felt a sort of kindred spirit blossoming between them. "Perhaps this encounter was more for your benefit than for mine." He mused softly. "Did you forsee my arrival?" Cecil fixed his warm gaze on her once more, silently asking for her to look at him.

I am alone, she answers him directly this time, dropping the games.  She does not want to leave him hanging, to mislead him now that the tone has shifted to something more serious.  I have always been alone.

It was more or less the truth, once again.  It had certainly felt like she had always been alone, of course, having never traveled with an individual longer than a few days since her outcast from the Spire.  Honestly, she could not forsee herself doing it now either, although she could not ever pinpoint why she had such an aversion to pack-life.

Perhaps it was fear that these visions were cursed, doomed to show her the fate of anyone she grew remotely close to.

It was upon this lingering thought that he shows her such foriegn kindness that she almost sours under it, wondering just why he would take mercy on such a pitiful soul as she.  She was not beautiful, such as many of the leggy, fae-creatures of the wilds.  She had no connections, no worth in these lands... but maybe he is not wrong in his (bold) assumption that meeting him was something fate had bestowed on her, instead of her presence foreshadowing something else.

His movements catch in her peripherals and she turns to face him once more, daring to make herself comfortable and lying down.  Any amount of spite she had for the other dissipated.  No, I did not.  I saw the Teekons.  I saw the bluffs.  It was only once I arrived that I felt myself drawn, but it may not have had anything to do with the visions.  These things just.. happened to her, she guessed.

wrap up?

Cecil nodded as she spoke, her body lowering into a more  comfortable position. He followed her, inching just that little bit closer to her, perhaps if he was lucky she might accept his presence near her own. "Perhaps fate has deemed you worthy to have companionship." He meant no form of romance, merely the idea that perhaps she could rely on someone. Cecil thought perhaps, it didn't even have to be him. "Perhaps the burden fate has set upon your sholders shouldn't be held by you alone." He shrugged, willing to offer her the remainder of the evening in the company of another. Giving her a sense of comradery that had been snatched from her.

He settled beside her, trying to convey his willingness to help her with her burden. "I head for Drageda, at a place called Dragoncrest Cliffs." Cecil gave her the information for no reason other than he wanted to help her. He never specified that she should visit. He only hoped that perhaps, if she needed it, he would be there and she could find him.

[ooc]Yep!  :)  I might edit this later to be better but now it's bedtime.

Perhaps.

She supposed that a single night indulging in the companionship of another wolf would do no harm.  She accepted his hesitating presence, making no attempt to move as he moved towards her.  Corva was unused to others wishing to be so close and in a way it was uncomfortable, but the intent behind it was benign enough to allow.

Va remained at his side until the sun rose, content to let the silence fill the space between them when there were no words left, and as the moon started to dip below the horizon she bid him an aideu without promise of seeking his Drageda out.