It was bitterly cold, but her winter coat had grown in, and when she shivered, it was for the strange feeling of deja vu, and not the chill the wind raked continually down her belly and back.
It seemed impossible that she had made it back to this place, but the dark girl recognize it at once. The snow seemed to fall in just the same way it had when she'd been small, a seashell batter by the sea that was Doe.
She wondered what had become of the bitter old shewolf, and then decided that her wonder was better spent elsewhere. There were forgotten places to explore, and memories to collect. The den -
Sif set off toward the beach, tail held out in a straight line behind her. Doe was gone, and Sif answered to no one.
December 25, 2017, 11:31 PM
(This post was last modified: December 25, 2017, 11:32 PM by Isengrim.)
The Barracuda, broken and worn crawls back towards the cliffs, ragged breaths turning even as he breathes in the ocean's crashing mist. Eventually, and in time, he reaches the familiar shore and collapses under the weight of his travels. The undersides of his feet are weathered in, harder than rock and scarred where they should not be. Exhausted he collapses, and shuts his eyes, pressing his face against the sand and burying himself under the noise of the tides, letting the familiar waves of his youth drown away the memories of the present.
He awakes disoriented a few hours later, inhaling a hard breath of sea water and shooting upright to find himself mildly soaked and emitting an ungodly stench. The water had revealed how battered he truly looked, noticing how miniature mounds of dirt had piled up around him in the form of his silhouette as he slept, leaving himself much cleaner than he had been yet still, smelling like a wet dog who had just crawled out of a sewer. Fucking disgusting, he thinks as he shakes himself free of the remaining water and settles about, looking for anything at all to eat.
He quickly realizes how open the setting he stands in is, lacking the greenery his months spend travelling in dense forestry differed from where he felt was home. It is unsettling. There are no trees to hide his shame; he is naked on for all the world to see his failures. To see how far he had fallen.
Time passes as he aimlessly wanders, swallowing the familiar ache of starvation as no hunt beside wretched crab lingers near. Not that he had the strength to hunt anyways. Displayed rips show the evidence of helpless survival, and the failure to do so. It is only the scent of another approaching that snaps him out of his disorientation, and his eyes peer in the distance, attempting to focus on the figure that trots along in his direction. He knows her. He knows her. Recognision churns within his mind and he lets out a strangled yelp before bounding towards her unceremoniously. Her name is lost in the catacombs of his memory but instinct pushes the fact that he knows her, and she is of his blood.
He awakes disoriented a few hours later, inhaling a hard breath of sea water and shooting upright to find himself mildly soaked and emitting an ungodly stench. The water had revealed how battered he truly looked, noticing how miniature mounds of dirt had piled up around him in the form of his silhouette as he slept, leaving himself much cleaner than he had been yet still, smelling like a wet dog who had just crawled out of a sewer. Fucking disgusting, he thinks as he shakes himself free of the remaining water and settles about, looking for anything at all to eat.
He quickly realizes how open the setting he stands in is, lacking the greenery his months spend travelling in dense forestry differed from where he felt was home. It is unsettling. There are no trees to hide his shame; he is naked on for all the world to see his failures. To see how far he had fallen.
Time passes as he aimlessly wanders, swallowing the familiar ache of starvation as no hunt beside wretched crab lingers near. Not that he had the strength to hunt anyways. Displayed rips show the evidence of helpless survival, and the failure to do so. It is only the scent of another approaching that snaps him out of his disorientation, and his eyes peer in the distance, attempting to focus on the figure that trots along in his direction. He knows her. He knows her. Recognision churns within his mind and he lets out a strangled yelp before bounding towards her unceremoniously. Her name is lost in the catacombs of his memory but instinct pushes the fact that he knows her, and she is of his blood.
the barracuda
December 27, 2017, 10:05 PM
Awareness of him began as a prickle at the back of her neck, and then quickly exploded into a flurry of motion and jagged teeth. Sif spun toward the strange male, hackles raise, a reproving growl already ripping past her scarred, black lips. I am dangerous, said her body, and her eyes flashed red when they caught the light while her pelt seemed to go bright and dark. Instead of cream and brown, she could have been silver and black. But it was only for a moment, and then she was a girl again, large but rawboned.
But the male was far enough that she did not immediately attack. She wasn't one to bite first, if another option was clearer or easier. Waiting seemed best for the moment - his advance did not seem to be an aggressive one, and there was a peculiar expression on his face. His face...
"Isen?" she breathed, the word escaping her in a cloud of heavy white vapor - as easily as she wished it had when she was a child, before her brother and sister had gone away. She still remembered standing on that beach, Jule going in one direction and Doe's shadow in the other. She'd stayed rooted to the spot until fear had won out and she'd chased after Jule's ginger heels. And when Jule disappeared, she'd gone back to the bay, only to find her brother and carer long gone. "It - you - " Her words were stilted, stuttered. "Moor," she said, her voice begging, tail whipping wildly. "It's me!"
But the male was far enough that she did not immediately attack. She wasn't one to bite first, if another option was clearer or easier. Waiting seemed best for the moment - his advance did not seem to be an aggressive one, and there was a peculiar expression on his face. His face...
"Isen?" she breathed, the word escaping her in a cloud of heavy white vapor - as easily as she wished it had when she was a child, before her brother and sister had gone away. She still remembered standing on that beach, Jule going in one direction and Doe's shadow in the other. She'd stayed rooted to the spot until fear had won out and she'd chased after Jule's ginger heels. And when Jule disappeared, she'd gone back to the bay, only to find her brother and carer long gone. "It - you - " Her words were stilted, stuttered. "Moor," she said, her voice begging, tail whipping wildly. "It's me!"
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