Otter Creek burn the streets
All Welcome  November 17, 2019, 09:24 AM
Khepri
Rusalka

for @Reif

the spectre follows scarab again, making it's haunting appearance so often these days that scarab wonders if the lingering omen was the price of his recovery, of his health. perhaps, he thinks, he's escaped death too many times and death sent a reaper to monitor him. or perhaps it is the phantom of the wolf whose flesh he consumed ...either seems pretty logical to the haunted golden prince who employs his very best efforts to ignore the illusionary phantom that stays close to his side.

the afternoon was chilly and cloudy, the sun playing a ceaseless game of hide'n'seek behind the thick grey clouds drifting overhead. scarab set out of blackfeather woods in search of things to add to his menagerie now that he's found himself settled and found a place deep in the belly of the forest — the underworld of it to be exact ( though, oddly he does not fear the tunnels beneath the forest as he probably should've ) — he'd like to utilize for his new menagerie. with his petrified sandpiper tucked safely in the stalagmites that rise from the cave floor like teeth from a massive beast he does not fret over it's welfare.

he thinks a few colorful rocks might be a good place to start and keeps 'rocks' firmly in the forefront of his mind as he reaches the bank of the otter creek, determined to ignore the haunting vision that walks atop the creek's cold surface, stopping and turning to face scarab so that its ember glow gaze can burn thru him.

nanowrimo: 261

the spectre 'speech'
it's a quality of the gods
to see a creature with its back broken
and be unmoved —
November 19, 2019, 06:24 PM
Reif
Lone Wolves

the air was growing sharper- sometimes to a point where if he dared inhale too quickly it would sting at his throat and eyes would well up with hot, salty water. he knew well what it signified even if he had yet to experience the grasp of winter in all its might. he could certainly conclude however that he was not a fan of the cold, it made quick work of his sickly frame and settled deep into his bones, rendering him quite useless at times. that had become quite a primary concern of his; oh and the food thing wasn't too great. 

although the boy had proven to be a skilled scavenger, skulking about with the ravens and foxes and well, at times like this it could be debated that such a skill was more useful than the ability to hunt. what use was hunting when there was nothing to catch? of course reif's abilities came down to little more than a lack of both pickiness and pride. his mind had little time for the 'enjoyment' of food or the honour in being a predator, he got his fuel to stay alive however he had to. although..he had to admit he'd enjoyed when his lack of independence hadn't been a direct issue to his health, having his mothers give him food had been an unappreciated luxury and he often wonders should he return to the mountains. 

he's not sure why he doesn't, the lands have been aloof in his efforts to connect and discover and the wolves...well, wolf. after the sharp tongued boy reif had taken to keeping to his own company. he didn't need others and definitely did not want to risk the safety of him or stick to do something as meaningless as converse. yet as his paws carry him through the swaying grasses; the engraved tree limb gripped securely in his jaws; he does not even glance towards the looming peaks. right now his focus belongs to the burning thirst in the back of his throat and the trickling sound that had guided him to this water source. quick to dispatch his load on the bank, the pallid creature leans forth to meet the water source; relishing in the cool liquid sliding down his throat. yet in his reverie he fails to notice the presence of another until pulling back, tongue swiping the lingering droplets away and sage eyes falling right upon the form of another young boy.

in a motion he's frozen, sage eyes flickering warily as he regards the other carefully, uncertain as to if he's already been caught or not.

"-he was described as brilliant, and as quite odd, strange, solitary, and somewhat divorced from the world."
November 24, 2019, 09:44 AM
Khepri
Rusalka

the emberglow gaze of the spectre burns and burns as khepri drinks until, finally, enough is had and the golden prince of the dead looks up sharply and notes the cheshire grin formed upon half skeletal and half rotten muzzle, a slight motion in a direction that khepri, despite himself, feels his head turning towards. lapis lazuli gaze falls upon the pale cream colored wolf apparently frozen in his movements. khepri stares back, eyes following the languid movements of the omen as the illusion slinks upon the water, nearer and nearer to the pale boy in the distance.

a soft hiss escapes khepri's lips; a nonverbal communication for the omen to leave him be. the spectre, if the illusion hears it, ignores him like an insufferably imperious cat. hmph, the omen huffs. he's pretty... the illusion purls and khepri's gaze hardens as he focuses it upon the cream colored boy, and then to the tree limb near him. sticks weren't anything khepri considered collecting ...he tended to stick to his strict obsession with dead and pretty things.

that's a nice stick. khepri compliments idly, as he takes a step and then another step into the icy water, paws feeling each press of water smoothed rock of creek bed. just because he wouldn't collect it doesn't mean he can't admire other things. his attention drifts from the other boy to the water that rushes around his ankles. he squints down at the water and scoops up a mouthful of rocks before trudging back to the bank where he promptly drops them, nosing them in the grasses to remove creek bed silt to determine if any of them were worth keeping.

a glimpse is spared then towards the cream boy, assuming that he still remains. i'm khepri. he offers, ignoring the intent studying the impish illusion seems to be occupied with.

nanowrimo: 319

the spectre 'speech'
it's a quality of the gods
to see a creature with its back broken
and be unmoved —
November 24, 2019, 07:00 PM
Reif
Lone Wolves

paws push him back a pace at the hiss to slip fluidly from his newfound company, ears pinning back distrustfully. still leery in the presence of a foreign youth after his mistreatment from the fire-eyed boy. yet unlike that...creature, this wolf has icy eyes and once again his soft sage is batted away by a set of equally piercing orbs, sharp as the muddy wolf's yet completely different too. it leaves him on edge, especially when they roam from his own form only to land upon his beloved companion. stiffening, a creamy paw is stretched out to pull stick closer, running his pads along the familiar grooves; gaze retaining its reproachful glare despite its flightiness. as usual, he is unaware of his own inability to retain eye contact for more than a handful of seconds before they must focus on a different part of his lithe frame; from an ear to his chest, the relief once he's free from those piercing sapphire's is imminent. 

like a cat his skinny frame lowers into a defensive crouch as the boy moves languidly into the waters. a frown pushes through then, distracted by a confusion as to why he'd subject himself to such a level of pure cold but is pulled back before he could spiral into the topic by the smooth voice of the water wolf. ears lift slightly, the tone instantly attractive to him and quick to free him from some of his defensive mistrust. yet to come across one who would lie about their intentions, reif can only presume the lack of aggression meant this wolf held no ill will towards him or stick although he doesn't remove his paw from its reassuring surface. an approving nod is granted as he straightens back into a sitting position, idly rubbing the tree limb as his head leans slightly to the side. "it ishe agrees softly, finally allowing his eyes to flit down towards his pride. "i like its...designshe supplies with a small shrug. the engravings were the only thing that kept him in touch with this world sometimes, he just wished he knew what they meant. the idea that they could be just designs didn't occur to him once, as far as he was concerned if it was there it had to be for a reason.

silently he tracks the other's movements with curious eyes, muscles relaxing as he becomes utterly encompassed with what was being carried out before him. slowly he detaches himself from stick and creeps closer to the brute, despite the clear signs of neglect ravaging his starved form, this collection of stones would prove to be more interesting to him than if the other presented him with a full deer. a distracted "okayslips forth at the introduction..khepri. yet a heartbeat later he catches himself and throws back a quick "reif". he's surprised by how foreign it sounds on his tongue, a name he used to hear so often and yet never had to speak. 

reif had always been more focused on the textures of objects over any sorts of appearances and so a particularly smooth, shiny one is quick to catch his attention. "that one's nicehe offers somewhat proudly before adding with a slight frown "dno if it's worth getting wet for thoughand proceeds to glance down towards the boy's damp coat as if he'd jumped through fire and was ignoring the resulting burns.

"-he was described as brilliant, and as quite odd, strange, solitary, and somewhat divorced from the world."
November 27, 2019, 03:01 PM
Khepri
Rusalka

the movement — of the butterscotch boy's paw tightening on his treasure — does not go unnoticed by khepri who finds a familiarity in the other boy's actions. it is how he clings to his precious petrified sandpiper, after all. a fixation that could've cost him his life even as the waves pulled him under and spit him back out, threatening to drown him in it's icy depths as the salt water burned his lungs. before his trip to rusalka's new claim upon the plateau it had been all khepri had thought had been left of his family. now, it is a reminder. a promise. that the plagued golden prince would return to them once his debt to the lalin of his life was fulfilled.

alas, khepri could not be fully distracted from his whole reason for being in this territory in the first place and as he listens to the boy concur with his assessment and admit that he likes the designs, khepri gives each paw a shake to dispel the trickling tickle of the icy droplets that slide thru the spiked fur of his ankles. reif the introduction, like everything else the other boy has spoken thus far is soft and draws half of khepri's attention, acknowledged by a flick of his ear in his newfound companion's direction as he remains intent on inspecting what he dug from the silty creek bottom.

the sound of quieted footfalls tells khepri that the other boy draws nearer — but the ominous visage of the spectre draws the brief rise of khepri's gaze as the omen paces back and forth, disappearing and then reappearing in a wisp of smoke that khepri finds more distracting than he'd like to admit. once more, determined to ignore the creation of his imagination, he swings his head towards reif as the other comments — proudly, it sounds like — on a smoothy, shiny stone. the following comment causes khepri to draw back in slight offense. it was like saying that his petrified sandpiper — the crowning jewel of his once magnificent collection! — hadn't been worth nearly dying for ( it wasn't ),

                in khepri's line of thinking the boy is wrong. treasures are always, always worth the risk; and if there wasn't a risk attached to them then they were boring and frankly, not worth having.

treasures are always worth the risk. spoken in a pompous manner as a glimpse is given to the other boy. he noses the others and draws a pale moonbeam colored rock — a smoothed flat stone — towards himself. i like this one. compared to some of the other its almost plain ...but the bone coloration is what attracts khepri to it the most. you can have that one, if you'd like. khepri gestures to the one that reif had commented on. it was rare ...khepri did not have a reputation of sharing his spoils — in fact he'd went to great lengths to hide them after the great reyes disaster of his very first menagerie. this ...kindness, if indeed it could be considered that, wasn't something that khepri was all that interested in looking too deeply into.

nanowrimo: 535

the spectre 'speech'
it's a quality of the gods
to see a creature with its back broken
and be unmoved —
December 01, 2019, 06:16 PM
Reif
Lone Wolves

he remains completely unawares of the offence he may have caused the boy with his careless statement, all he offers is a side look at the movement but upon seeing it didn't seem to lead to anything; refocused on the little collection at their paws. yet then he does follow up and sage eyes detach once more to gaze vaguely at his pallid companion with a slow blink. "treasures...he echoes it very quietly, running the word slowly over his tongue and therefore within the confines of his mind. he would never have thought to refer to his trinkets as something as prestigious as that yet he finds he likes the word and tucks it away carefully. as for the rest of the statement, reif wholly disagrees. he loves stick but he wouldn't do anything stupid for it and he frowns as his eyes fall back to the waters. "there's not much use in owning something if you end up deadhe counters simply, offering up a shrug as he trails a paw idly through the damp grass; nose wrinkling with distaste at the feeling and therefore stopping quite abruptly.

he looks back to the stones when khepri specifies his favourite; blinking curiously at the muted item. this time he finds himself agreeing, there's something oddly attractive in its simplicity although he's not sure where it originates from but for once doesn't look too much into it; opting to simply appreciate it with a small nod. "i like ithe chirps; leaning closer to inspect it just as the one he'd originally ogled at was offered to him. ears lift slightly and he stretches out a paw to draw it nearer, flinching very lightly when he brushes off the other but still managing to draw the stone close. he doesn't think to offer up a thanks but the little wag of his tail and the way in which he ran his paw over its smooth surface with something akin to fondness was something perhaps only reif's family would be able to acknowledge as his own way of expressing his gratitude. 

looking up once more, his little nose twitches at the scents rolling about him with the proximity of the other's pelt. other wolves and undoubtedly food, ears lean back at the reminder of how shitty he felt all over. "where are you from?he asks, not for the sake of making small talk or anything so much as to gather information. his mothers had mentioned other packs before and although he didn't like the idea of being expected to talk to loads of other wolves and something about..duties, he didn't like being hungry and cold all the time. also he was really bad at fending for himself, ideally he'd like nothing better than a quiet corner where he could be fed and warm but be able to spend his time focusing on himself and whatever obsession he'd latched on. did khepri's home suit those conditions? he was, after all, out here collecting which reif rather liked the idea of.

"-he was described as brilliant, and as quite odd, strange, solitary, and somewhat divorced from the world."