Shadow Mountain Come on, lets go break their arms.
Ghost
"God is every bit as feral as that which he creates."
816 Posts
Ooc — Talamasca
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#1
All Welcome 
The forest was a place he now frequented when he needed time away from the valley. The pack was well fortified to begin with as there was only one way in or out, and the majority of the wolves within Ursus were warriors he held in high esteem. Revui felt superfluous there. However, he grew quickly bored with the slaying of foxes within the woods, and aside from prowling among the trees in the daylight, there wasn't much action to be had. He'd either killed or frightened the majority of the foxes in to darker segments.

While pursuing the alluring scent of blood-and-fox one evening, he discovered that he'd met the end of the forest where it rose up to become the foothills of the range. It was darker here than anywhere else, and as humid as the devil's armpit. Seeking fresh air, Revui continued to climb, and climb, and climb, until he'd spent hours finding a piecemeal avenue of ascension. It felt good to work his body this way — to taste the mountain air again, as if he belonged there.

Eventually he found a deeply set plateau that hung upon the side of the cliff like a wide-brimmed mushroom set in the side of a log. He hoisted himself partway at an odd angle, scrambled with his hindquarters, and then stood proudly at this precipice while looking out across the world. There wasn't much to see aside from the spires of trees descending towards the meadow, and distantly the rise of Ursus beyond that.

His heart was pounding in his ears, he was breathing raggedly, but felt more alive than he had in weeks.

The woods have always been filled with these soft doe-eyed things;
with hearts beating for the arrow, the bullet, the lance.

I have always been the huntsman.  ⤑

204 Posts
Ooc — jem
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#2
suffocation had driven her from the valley's ever tightening clutch, prompted to take flight to avoid greedily snapping shadows hungering for their promised bite. pele was gone, alsek's sister, her sister; simply gone. was it her fault? the assault of memories wailing the words of surya, aphrodite and alsek himself was a common occurrence over the past five days, initially starting off quite canonically; 

'but alsek has a sister at whitebark stream, too. she's all alone now'

'your sister, and lots of other people, are very worried about you. they miss you a lot.'

'pola, i wa-.. i want pele.​'

only to gradually distort into hellish caterwauling; screeching, fiendish versions of their initial selves that spat 'this is your fault!!'

 'you selfish bitch!'    
'you took away her only brother after she lost her parents'

'you thought only about yourself and now she's probably dead, all because of you'

and so she'd fled, rather than finding the blackbird to offer any sort of comfort, she'd succumbed to that selfish flair once more. too much of a stinking coward to bring herself to dance within the grasp of loss' claws after having only escaped them herself so very recently. freshly healed wounds cringing away at the idea of what might threaten them should she face the demon's surely beginning to slink around her sibling by now.

there was no real destination in mind and she is not void of surprise upon reaching the embrace of the mountain's shade as the earth began to slope upwards. hesitation occurs for only the briefest of moments before she plows forth, muscle feathering within a tightly clenched jaw as limbs worked to tug her higher and higher and higher and- there. by the time she clambers upon the pinpointed precipice, lungs offer protestant burning whilst her heart hammers hard against a lean chest but polaris- she is grasped by something akin to euphoria in that moment and oh she plans to exploit each and every drop of it.

or that is until she realises that she is not the only creature to have taken a shine to this particular tooth of rock; and the scent to ride upon the breeze giggles impishly at what it is entrusted with to deliver to her.ursus. and unlike the unorthodox snowdrop she'd discovered also thickly adorned in that stench, this man was the exact type of wolf one did expect to run with barbaric ruffians; he was a finely edged blade if she'd ever seen one. somewhere, she does have the sense to feel a minute flicker of fear and yet- there is something intoxicating about being up here; riding upon the brazen earth that challenged the sky itself. svelte figure moves forth so that she too stands upon the edge, overlooking the world that rolled away from them, a few metres stretching along the edge between them. after all, these very mountains had tried to kill her and her family. and had failed.
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Ghost
"God is every bit as feral as that which he creates."
816 Posts
Ooc — Talamasca
Master Warrior
Ecologist
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#3
Aah sorry for taking my time with this, I probably can't match you. D:

He is alone for a small window of time and he manages to catch his breath moments before the wind hints at company; he is glad for it, eager enough to test himself against this mountain but more-so against the teeth of an adversary. Revui has already mentally claimed this mountain as hey climbed its many paths, deeming himself the minotaur of this labyrinth (in more basic terms, of course). He stands tall upon a stretch of exposed bedrock where roots white-knuckle in to the ancient soil, the trees long since felled to the will of the mountain and leaving massive ruins of petrified pine. Between these desiccated once-spires he lurks; but before long the scent he has found becomes something greater, and he prowls after the sound of something moving.

He is pleased to find a wolf marching among the ruins with him. She is young enough from what he can tell, glancing her way with that predatory eye of his. Pale, although not entirely. There is a messy configuration of dark marks across her coat which he assumes are merely shadows dappling her from the surrounding trees and abutments, until she steps in to the open, at least. There is a sense of vigor to her: heavy breathing, wind-burned cheeks, the airy mineral scent Revui had noticed of the mountainside as he'd ascended it. She had been tempted by the mountain too. They were alike in their fixation.

She must have noticed him in return. His presence was obvious enough as he put forth no effort to conceal himself, but Revui was more at-home here upon this mountain than anywhere upon the lowlands nor in Merrick's valley. He was a bulwark, some sort of gargoyle cleaved of the mountain itself, blending in adequately beneath the boughs of the pines. He does not greet the girl so much as present himself to her—striding in to the light so that summer's glow may touch upon him, spotlit.

The woods have always been filled with these soft doe-eyed things;
with hearts beating for the arrow, the bullet, the lance.

I have always been the huntsman.  ⤑

204 Posts
Ooc — jem
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#4
you're good! & your posts are absolutely perfect!

he lingers in cloaked silence but the press of his look is not unnoticed as the dove slides scintillating stares from the plethora of colour stretching out before her to roam back to his sublime bulk. it is his eyes that she snags upon as he steals forth into the sun's embrace, so at odds with what else he presented. he could be carved from the very mountains themselves, a burly gargoyle of stony adornment and yet...the lustre of such curious eyes is enrapturing. not quite the verdant green of so many others, there was a cool sharpness to the gleam of his...an airy wildness that went beyond the lush pastoral hue. it reminded her quite suddenly of the night kissed man who'd told her about fireflies and wanderlust, he too had hailed from more distant mountains. of course, this brute hailed from the valley at least as of now, as his stench so waggishly informed. 

a slender brow is arched as she straightens to shift her figure away from the edge and wholly face him, chin tipped high despite the ease in which he dwarfed her. honestly, these ursus characters intrigued her to a vexing point. from the ones that had taken it upon themselves to toy with easthollow for whatever reason to the outlandish residents like the beautiful wraith she'd found haunting the meadow. she wanted to know more, were they similar to the ruffians running the nightwalkers or something new entirely? and at that, were they potentially more formidable than the violent knuckleheads claiming the tenebrous woods? 

an ear flicked as she cocked her head to the side in a small bird like movement, tail swaying at her haunches; heart continuing a rapid progression within the clutch of a bird boned chest. at first she'd thought it to be fear induced, a much more sensible reaction and yet....as she pressed pale toes against the tough ground she felt buzzed by the touch of something more along the lines of excitement. it must be a side affect of the air up here, its intoxicating taste enough to whisper tales of invincibility to anyone; perhaps that is what drew those to settle so close to the sky. "it's a little rude to stare without so much as a greetingshe finally hums, much too touched by riveting energy to entertain the silence of a stare down.
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Ghost
"God is every bit as feral as that which he creates."
816 Posts
Ooc — Talamasca
Master Warrior
Ecologist
Offline
#5
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"It's a little rude to stare without so much as a greeting."

The woman says. Her eyes have been roaming across him in a similiar appraising fashion and he cannot tell if she is satisfied with what she sees, but she certainly is not afraid of him. Her tone does not sound fearful or nevous in any way. Then again, Revui isn't the most astute creature when it comes to verbal cues and communication; there is a look in her eye though, one that he recognizes, one that he has held before himself. Curiosity, intrigue, and challenge.

Hi. He half-barks, half-belches. There, now it wasn't rude anymore. By her own ruling he could stare at her for hours more, investigate those patterns on her shoulders, try to discern if she was missing an ear or if it was caught in a patch of shadow, perhaps figure out why her eyes were broken and two-tone. She's a funny little thing.

Revui thinks about what to do next, leaving a pregnant pause after his bland little greeting, and works her over with his eyes again; he draws his tongue across his lips thoughtfully, curious to test if her apparent attitude was coupled with a warrior's drive. Maybe he can goad this woman in to a fight like the others he's encountered - but he remains quiet, and finally looks away, almost deferential.

You are on my mountain. He comments, but does not move against her to chase her off. Today he decides to be more aloof.


The woods have always been filled with these soft doe-eyed things;
with hearts beating for the arrow, the bullet, the lance.

I have always been the huntsman.  ⤑