Dragoncrest Cliffs The Freedom From Possession

Waves drove from the open water to break on the surface of the unpolished shore. Spume rolled lazily on the water's undulating surface, depositing just shy of where Roujuihnn's paws met the beige, shifting grit. The wind was calm as the serene turning swell soothed his mind. It's temperature, brisk, against the acclimatized, heavy coat that enveloped him. This place had the freedom of movement, especially now that spring had cast her hand against the land, and the threat of lethal weather waned with each passing day. Clouds that lingered overhead had barely enough in them to dapple the earth with a rare sprinkle as he made a single trail of tracks with sizable, hefty paws.

Healthy. Strong. Proud. His gait said it all. He appeared to be a man on a mission, even if there wasn't one, and had made good time of his trip under the morning sun. He was surviving physically, but mentally? Roujuihnn was thriving. Eyes, the brightest they'd been in a long time, sat beneath dark brows in sockets of ashen alabaster. Charcoal laced ears were attentive, and his tail behind him flew the flag of a loner. Barred toes kicked the mineral in his wake, leaving divots in the grainy sprawl, as the pallid white of his paws turned gray, stuck with dirt and grime.

Each step was a bounce to the rhythm of the earth. While it might not be present on his face, he was in a fantastic mood. He'd been made free of his bonds, his debt paid with his youth, and an offer given for him to start anew. Aluminum gaze reached over the sands as his gait lead him beyond the sloping edge of the water and up the cliff side. The water lapped at the high walls as the spray of mellow waves humidified the space around him. Trees gave him cover from the afternoon sun. Their shadows washed over him and he breathed a soothing sigh. He was never so content in all his life and in all honesty, he couldn't possibly find a single thing to complain about.

Planting himself down a few feet from the edge of wild roots that hung in the air, silver eyes reached out into the waters and beyond. Brilliant ripples were dotted with the apricot sun beams while clouds meandered on as he watched the world, at peace. He knew it was only a matter of time before he had to decide on where, when and how to settle down and become a part of something, but for the moment his own independence was so enticing that he couldn't bare to tame it.

[[Beginning North of Dragoncrest Cliffs and moving West to the cliffside. Roujuihnn ends, sitting at the cliff side looking at the water.
Temp: 55˚ Partly Cloudy. Possible light rain in the evening and afternoon.
@Illidan ]]

the sound could not keep him; he felt the need to wander in his bones, a familiar ache. the lean ghost passed through the dark boughs of the blackpine forest within rusalka before pivoting and aiming himself for the entrance to the pack. the wind toyed with the jagged spikes of fur along his neck and shoulders. he had lost weight in that last month. the wildling had suffered the toll of his mental strain and his body reflected every devastating blow. illidan had drifted away from his youthful figure. instead, his hawkish gaze sat within the depths of looming shadows. his shoulders jutted from his back, and his ribs had just started to show through his ashen pelt.
 
through the towering stone guardians that sat on either side of the entrance to their pack, illidan passed beneath their shadows. his eyes drifted upward only once to the cliffside that loomed above the sound. birds of the water broke free of their perches along the sides of the stone and dove downward before swooping up into the tumbling grey skies. this gave him pause, but only for a moment before the weight of his chest urged him to move forward.
 
the ghost passed upward to the cliffs without truly knowing why he had ventured that way. when he had reached the highest point, he stopped to catch his breath. from there, the ocean seemed to stretch on into infinity. the wildling tried, but he could not see where the sea ended, and the skies began. a gust buffeted against his chest, rocking him back and forcing his eyes closed. when they reopened, he was met with the stoic figure of another hound upon the cliffs. for a moment, his breath caught in his throat. the sun shone down on the stranger’s frame, dappling him in glittering light that cast an ethereal glow on him. it cast out the majority of his darkest markings, for only a second.
 
illidan could have sworn it was his father…
 
but the clouds swept to cover the sun, and the world was cast into a gloomy haze. the ghostly youth blinked, shaking his head slowly from side to side before fixing his sights on the other man once more. all of his previous hopes had been dashed at the clearer sight of the stranger. he carried a similar physique, but his cloak was spattered with ink and slate. illidan released the breath he had been holding. his shoulders sank and his crown was lowered toward the earth. a low chuff was issued to garner the mysterious figure’s attention.

Dust motes played in the dappled rays that filtered through the trees while the cast of the sun coming in the moments where the clouds splayed gave intermittent hues of warm and then cool colors to sprawl across the unknown lands. Even in it's beauty, Rouj's mind began to shift and wander from the sights to his future again. Perhaps, not so much as his future place, but his future purpose. Occasionally, the plume of his tail would flick to one side or the other as his thoughts turned. He'd been made to be a tool more than a living, breathing wolf, and direction was becoming hard to find. His focus? It was unclear. All he knew was that he had to keep moving, but to where? He couldn't say. He wished he was as simply carefree as the waterfowl that fluttered in a diamond through the swathe of feathered heather gray that they shortly disappeared within.

With the snap of his ear, followed in suit by the dart of his eye, Roujuihnn picked the sound of another out of the waves, the wash and the wind through the canopy above him. Platinum sights peered at the other whom watched him from a distance and his gaze narrowed. How long had he been there, if just now to make himself known? His edges hardened. He was hesitant to approach the male with an earthy face and caramel ears, but it would do him less good to remain seated where he was. A judgment call was made and the grayscale male brought himself to a stand.

A short bark shot through the distance between them, summoned from a hoarse and scarcely used tune. He hadn't called out so quietly as he had been addressed, but when he finally noted the downtrodden posture, his own features softened. Still wary, but now less so, the coal laced gray wolf stole steps from between them. After a time of cautious weaving through the more unsteady appearing edge of the rocky ledge, all the while keeping an eye on what he was hoping would be transient company, he finally made it near enough to get a solid look at this male. The drifter lifted his graveled note, curious as to why he'd been given the time of day for such a short invitation to usher him across the gap,” Rouj',” The utterance was short introduction, but spoken in such a way that it was clearly a name even if what the meaning behind it was obscure and forgiving the fact that it sounded a bit more like a sneeze than the sobriquet of his born handle.

Rather than ask the younger male what he was doing out here by (hopefully) himself, agaze for a time only after announcing his presence, Rouj' would keep his interrogation to himself for a while. There wasn't a way of telling who this guy was, not without knowing the surrounding region or the packs that might take up residence in nearby areas. For all he was concerned, this stranger may be young, but that didn't give reason to underestimate him. First rule of rough rouge living was that if someone assumed frail seemed helpless, It was a trap. It was a shame that Rouj's mind wasn't quite so mature enough to know if that had been the case, he'd have been long ago surrounded.

the beast across from him turned and illidan was met with a chillingly ethereal argent stare. he did not need to know about this man to understand that he was a creature of the world, and he had power within the length of his limbs. when he stood, the young leader had become incredibly aware of his own body and the limitations that he had set on himself. this man could have destroyed him, if he so wished. the thought should have given him more concern than it did. somehow, death did not seem to be such a frightening thing. instead of fear, the sea born hound felt only the astounding weariness that had made a home in the marrow of his bones.
 
‘rouj,’ the man spoke.
 
it was only fitting that illidan would be taken off guard by the sudden word. it took him only a moment or two to discern that this was the man’s moniker. the ghost lowered his head for a fraction of time, showing his respect to the wolf called rouj. with no more distance to keep them fully apart, it was the first time that the weary leader caught wind of the scents that had intermingled in the ink-touched coat of the man. he smelled of places that illidan could not dream of seeing. wanderlust ate at his insides, but he did what he could to fight it away.
 
“illidan,” he offered his own name in a haggard voice, strained by an unknown force. the wildling then gestured with a swinging motion of his muzzle toward the sound below the cliffs. “i am the –“ but he halted in his statement, realizing that he had started to introduce himself as the beta of the pack below. this was no longer a true statement, and illidan was forced to catch his tongue before he slipped. “i’m the alpha of the pack below.” and even though the words had left his inky lips, the ghost did not believe that they were true.

A dip of Illidan's head had offered a sign of respect that Rouj' was more than willing to accept, but certainly didn't deserve. He was nothing more than a scab where he'd come from, and even less than that where he'd been born. He'd earned none of that kind gesture, but he was more than willing to accept it. The action, alone, kept him on his better behavior either way.

“Alpha, huh?” Rouj's sights followed the directed motion that Illidan had made, his toes digging into the ground as his eyes tipped over the edge of the cliff side. This young, and an Alpha? Impressive. For what he saw beneath him was only coast and sand, he didn't doubt that the pack was down there,” That pack got a name?” He inquired, icey blue eyes slipping to the corner of his gaze, meeting Illidan again.

The tawny eared, sooty male still seemed lackluster despite. There was something definitely going on with him, and it was clearer than the light of day, but Rouj' was nothing more than a new body in a new land who he had happened upon as far as he was concerned. The grayscale wolf wasn't in the way to pry, or particularly be moved one way or another, but information was something that was far more valuable than friendships had ever been,” How long ya'll been around down there?” There was little fear in asking questions, since they were harmless enough, and the near stutter when the other had misspoke opened the window for a few questions to be asked without too much of Rouj' own history for sale.

it seemed as though his rank within rusalka was of some interest to the slate-cloaked male. there was something that shifted in the stranger’s gaze – something that spoke of understanding on an instinctual level, and interest beyond that. then, the male asked what the pack was called. illidan’s eyes trailed the cliffs before roaming back down to his home. a breathless sigh passed through his lips in that moment. “rusalka,” he answered evenly. it was just another name in a long list. before rusalka, there had been grimnismal, and before that… well, it was called many things. the name meant very little, only that it represented a home.
 
when the beast inquired about their longevity within the area, illidan’s brow furrowed into a thoughtful expression. there was a crease between his eyes, a somber frown. it felt like they had been there since the beginning of time, but that was no accurate measurement. how much was he intended to share with this fellow? if he asked for history, it could be provided, but the ghost was not interested in talking through the daylight hours.
 
“we have been settled there for just under a year. we had lived in the pack that had been there before, as well, before a bear had displaced us,” the wildling responded. he recalled back to the time when the bear had sought their shores and instilled terror in the members of the pack before rusalka. “what of you? where do you claim your home?” illidan then returned to the brute of a man. he was curious about him. something in his frame seemed to speak of a lifetime of travel – a vagabond – and it reminded illidan far too much of his father to ignore it.