she's at the mouth of the den so technically AW. . .but @Astara may chomp if you get too close? >:) up to y'all tho
whatever it is. . .it moves.
the pinkish-brown slender thing writhes in the dirt, slowly—looking much like Avicus herself once had, as a blind-deaf milk grub. though, the resemblance escapes her; she sees nothing of the familiar in the creature, about the length of one of her stubby forelegs.
the world outside the den is bright. she will soon know this as high-sun time. all she knows now is that she squints as she stares up and out, and feels more comfortable just inside the den, hidden in the shadows. looking at the dirt.
looking at the. . .thing.
slowly, she reaches out a paw. she touches it—the thing moves a little faster, startled, and she startles too, ripping her limb away. but curiosity is too much her master, and she finds herself moving forward again. down goes the paw, an slow but inexorable force—
Avicus wrinkles her nose as a quarter of the creature's lithe form flattens under her paw; a gooey substance seeps out beneath it, and there's a sharp odor. she takes a step back. the thing is no longer writhing.
but see, amid the mimic rout,
a crawling shape intrude —
a blood-red thing that writhes from out
the scenic solitude
a crawling shape intrude —
a blood-red thing that writhes from out
the scenic solitude
May 26, 2020, 05:29 PM
rip galena
It had been some time since the birth of Ursus' bearberries and the pack's unraveling upon their arrival, but Galena heeded Astara's warning and had not returned to the den. She tended to her own needs, giving the mother and other members of the pack a wide birth to cool down. Weary and rattled, Galena sought the wisdom of her distant mothers in meditation. It brought her peace. She continued her patrol of the pack's inner circle until, finally, the stormcloud thought to stop by.
The man named Evien had removed the body of the dog from the mouth of the den. Good, thought Galena. It was calm and quiet today. Warm and sunny with a small breeze. The quintessential Spring day. It seemed like the mother and her children had found peace, and Gelana moved to depart... until she spotted a little fuzzball waddling out from the darkness.
From a distance, the Briarsoul watched with a happy expression as the pup encountered its fist worldly creature: a wriggling worm, and then smushed it beneath a wide, chubby paw. Galena couldn't help but smile. She adored the child already.
Cautiously, she approached — one eye watching for Astara — and laid down on her belly about two wolf lengths away from the child. Her head sank to the ground, nestled between her paws, to watch and observe the tiny babbling's exploration.
It had been some time since the birth of Ursus' bearberries and the pack's unraveling upon their arrival, but Galena heeded Astara's warning and had not returned to the den. She tended to her own needs, giving the mother and other members of the pack a wide birth to cool down. Weary and rattled, Galena sought the wisdom of her distant mothers in meditation. It brought her peace. She continued her patrol of the pack's inner circle until, finally, the stormcloud thought to stop by.
The man named Evien had removed the body of the dog from the mouth of the den. Good, thought Galena. It was calm and quiet today. Warm and sunny with a small breeze. The quintessential Spring day. It seemed like the mother and her children had found peace, and Gelana moved to depart... until she spotted a little fuzzball waddling out from the darkness.
From a distance, the Briarsoul watched with a happy expression as the pup encountered its fist worldly creature: a wriggling worm, and then smushed it beneath a wide, chubby paw. Galena couldn't help but smile. She adored the child already.
Cautiously, she approached — one eye watching for Astara — and laid down on her belly about two wolf lengths away from the child. Her head sank to the ground, nestled between her paws, to watch and observe the tiny babbling's exploration.
after a moment's contemplation, she dips her head down and approaches, pressing her nose against the goo. hmmm. . . it's not an altogether unpleasant smell, but it is different. it smells like the dirt in the den, but sharper. a quality she cannot yet define. Avicus then sticks her tongue out, giving the creature a lick.
even more curious! again, not unpleasant. not the sweetness of milk, for sure. she is half-tempted to meander back to her mother's teat, to suckle and clear the taste. something reckless and masochist within her is demanding another try, though, and she's bending low again—
!!!!
she looks slightly upward as she licks, and she spots the being a short distance outside the den. it looks like Astara, except lighter, less like darkness. Avicus crouches low, fur bristling, a russet bottle-brush babe. her blue eyes are unsettlingly round, stare gimlet; the faintest approximation of a growl rumbles in her tiny throat, a subterranean sound audible only to those by her side,
and the only one by her side is the writhing creature, except it writhes no longer, and it tastes of deep, damp earth.
even more curious! again, not unpleasant. not the sweetness of milk, for sure. she is half-tempted to meander back to her mother's teat, to suckle and clear the taste. something reckless and masochist within her is demanding another try, though, and she's bending low again—
!!!!
she looks slightly upward as she licks, and she spots the being a short distance outside the den. it looks like Astara, except lighter, less like darkness. Avicus crouches low, fur bristling, a russet bottle-brush babe. her blue eyes are unsettlingly round, stare gimlet; the faintest approximation of a growl rumbles in her tiny throat, a subterranean sound audible only to those by her side,
and the only one by her side is the writhing creature, except it writhes no longer, and it tastes of deep, damp earth.
but see, amid the mimic rout,
a crawling shape intrude —
a blood-red thing that writhes from out
the scenic solitude
a crawling shape intrude —
a blood-red thing that writhes from out
the scenic solitude
i'm going to bring it all back to you
848 Posts
Ooc — Lauren
Guardian
Rogue
Offline
May 27, 2020, 10:19 AM
just a cameo, continue on without waiting for me! <3
beset with many of the challenges of fresh mothers, astara often found herself catching pitiful snaps of sleep between cleaning and nursing. she did not know it, but day by day her heart for these little grubs grew -- and while she was neither affectionate or overly emotional, astara was an attentive, protective mother.
she knew little of the taboos that forbade wolves from entering her den, but outside visitors she would tolerate, so long as they did not touch. her fur bristled as she recalled the alien feeling that had overcome her as evien had grabbed her child.
she woke to the sound of a wolf outside; catching a glimpse of a shadow as it passed along the den lip, astara watched dully -- but not inattentively -- as her child bristled like a startled catch while a dead worm ceased its writhing at her feet.
galena. astara measured the lioness with a careful gaze. so long as her child was not touched and the den not breached, the blackbird would allow it; after all, there was no better time to learn than early on.
»» they may promise you that the river ain't too deep. ««
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Disgusted expression. Pudgey, wrinkled nose. Wide, angry blue eyes. Galena had to suppress an audible AWWWWW, having been deprived such cuteness for many, many months. The Order always seemed to have children, especially in abundance throughout the Spring... but caring for them had never become a chore. Galena took great pride in her role of Sister, doting on the new mothers and their cubs. Raising children was a communal effort shared by the entirety of Siahaedra.
Suddenly, the little pup seemed to notice her presence. Like a startled cat, it puffed up and rumbled a tiny rrrrrr. Galena could barely contain her heart eyes for the wee beastie. "You rascal," Galena murmured affectionately, taking a moment to slowly cross her paws. She wondered if the baby was male or female (for the fuzzball smelled only of Astara and mother's milk). "Are you a prince or a princess?" In Siahaedra, natal sex determined your path in life. "Either way, you'll have me cowering in no time," she exclaimed, adding some playful wolf noises in for good measure.
Her gaze briefly flicked up, and Galena swore she could see Astara's outline in the darkness of the den. Remembering the violent weeks before, she licked her nose and took a mental note to exercise caution.
May 31, 2020, 02:44 PM
her eyes grow impossibly wider as the stranger. . .makes. . .sound. a kind of sound she's not heard from either her mother nor brother (and had been deaf when her father had spoken to her, outside the den). her lower jaw drops slightly, moving idly, wondering: how? what? the language has no meaning; only the noise is monumental and foreign to her.
Avicus makes an inquisitive chirp, still caught inside a growl, and tilts her head nearly ninety degrees. she remembers the worm, then, and bends down, all while keeping eye contact with the wolf outside. she picks it up, takes several brave, stumbling steps outside the den, and flings it with all her might at the woman.
if she is so different, what else does she know? can she tell Avicus why the thing once moved but moves no longer?
alas, she has the strength of an infant, and the creature lands only a tail-length or so away—not nearly far enough to reach Galena. still, her courage is spent, and she backpedals into the den, growling once more. one of her forepaws stamps the ground idly; she presses on it with the other, thinking. . . if i press hard enough, will i stop moving?
ouch! it becomes painful, and she ceases the experiment. what would it take? what has she done?
Avicus makes an inquisitive chirp, still caught inside a growl, and tilts her head nearly ninety degrees. she remembers the worm, then, and bends down, all while keeping eye contact with the wolf outside. she picks it up, takes several brave, stumbling steps outside the den, and flings it with all her might at the woman.
if she is so different, what else does she know? can she tell Avicus why the thing once moved but moves no longer?
alas, she has the strength of an infant, and the creature lands only a tail-length or so away—not nearly far enough to reach Galena. still, her courage is spent, and she backpedals into the den, growling once more. one of her forepaws stamps the ground idly; she presses on it with the other, thinking. . . if i press hard enough, will i stop moving?
ouch! it becomes painful, and she ceases the experiment. what would it take? what has she done?
but see, amid the mimic rout,
a crawling shape intrude —
a blood-red thing that writhes from out
the scenic solitude
a crawling shape intrude —
a blood-red thing that writhes from out
the scenic solitude
June 02, 2020, 07:19 PM
Though Astara lurked like a panther in the shadows, Galena's attention returned to the nursling... who seemed absolutely awestruck by her baby talk. The proctor could babble for days to children, talking nonsense or telling stories to entertain them. Did she wish to hear a tale?
Nope... the child took her dead worm and chucked it a twig's-length away towards the reclined lioness, all while keeping her huge baby-blues fixed upon the woman before scuttling away back to the safety of the nest. Galena craned forward to sniff the dead thing, blowing up dust as her open nostrils blow out air. "Look at what you've done," Galena crooned with a lilt in her voice. "The mighty warrior has slain the great serpent of Ursus. We should bury it's body before the foul creature resurrects itself!"
She reached a stormy paw forward to scrape a shallow grave, rolling the worm inside with a flick or her nose. Moon-colored eyes flicked up towards the child, noticing her attention was now on one of her paws. Galena wondered why. "Help me cover it?" she asked the pup, beckoning her with a dip of her snout.
June 06, 2020, 07:07 AM
more strange sounds from the stranger's maw. Avicus wrinkles her nose, displeased at the mystery. things have been so simple for her in the den—milk, play, sleep. none of these. . .noises.
but she understands the gesture—come hither—and does so, albeit hesitantly. step by step, she emerges, coming closer. even when she stops, she is a good distance away from the woman, but she is still OUT. she looks at the slight depression in the ground that the wolf had made.
slowly, Avicus slinks forward and places her own paw within the hole, then makes a similar motion. her mouth rounds in a slight o as dirt follows, moving with her foreleg and settling in a little pile beside the. . .den? (grave.)
brows drawn together, she stares at Galena, waiting for further instruction. obviously this is a game of some sort, but the woman is too large to tackle, and Avicus does not smell milk on her pelt. what, then?
but she understands the gesture—come hither—and does so, albeit hesitantly. step by step, she emerges, coming closer. even when she stops, she is a good distance away from the woman, but she is still OUT. she looks at the slight depression in the ground that the wolf had made.
slowly, Avicus slinks forward and places her own paw within the hole, then makes a similar motion. her mouth rounds in a slight o as dirt follows, moving with her foreleg and settling in a little pile beside the. . .den? (grave.)
brows drawn together, she stares at Galena, waiting for further instruction. obviously this is a game of some sort, but the woman is too large to tackle, and Avicus does not smell milk on her pelt. what, then?
but see, amid the mimic rout,
a crawling shape intrude —
a blood-red thing that writhes from out
the scenic solitude
a crawling shape intrude —
a blood-red thing that writhes from out
the scenic solitude
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