Hideaway Strath A vulture in a suit and tie
Tha gràin agam air an t-saoghal
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Ooc — Sofie
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#1
All Welcome 
He'd dropped into another of his...slumps. That familiar feeling of a weight clenching his fur and dragging him down, forcing him to carry it around day and night.
He should be happy. His wife and children were healthy and growing but...he couldn't help but feel an emptiness.
He brought food to them, but he didn't want to play, wasn't as curious as he thought he'd be.
Keen and Ronnie... they plagued his mind but he had no desire to find them. Not anymore. How could he?

He sucked on his tongue. He needed to let go because he could see what it was doing to Arlette...brave, strong Arlette. A soft rain pattered the strath. He wandered. He should talk to Kynareth. Anyone really. He'd been so reserved.

Perhaps he felt a lack of purpose. There was nothing to protect his family from, his pack. It was so quiet tucked away here. Maybe he wasn't as ready to settle as he thought he would be.
His unkempt fur was soaked through, the dirt running from it now. Arlette tried to keep his spirits up but he made her focus on their - ...her?...no, he had to step his shit up - their children.
Otherwise, what else could he do?
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Loner
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#2
He was an inquisitive boy, always looking for the next thing to learn. He was an obedient boy, until his curiosity trumped his obedience, until he found a purpose to abandon the rules to chase his own.

Ma wouldn't want him so far from the den, and Turmeric knew better than to wander. He carried himself beyond the rendezvous despite the dangers and the reprimand he knew he'd get once someone found him, or found him missing.

But that wouldn't happen. He'd be back before anyone knew. And his pursuit was well worth any scolding he'd get from ma.

Could she really be upset with him, for trailing after dad?

Turmeric leapt and fumbled over soggy branches and low lying leaves with a grin, and with dogged determination to reach his dad, who he thought he could finally sort of glimpse through the trees.
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Ooc — Eoran
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#3
Another child in trouble? War stood some feet away when she saw a scarred male cross dangerous territory and soon after a child following. War blinked. Was that his? She began walking toward the scene, closer and now within sight of the pup. A small one, then again everyone looked small to her. The gigantic female walked up next to the child and leaned forward and attempted with the outmost care that War possibly could muster to collect the child.

She was not a mother, never had been, likely never would be, so where to grab the pup was not knowledge she had. Instead she collected it around its body and with outmost care she tried to lift it up, if it did not squirm or kick her. If the child fought her War would let it go. If the child let her she would collect it, and with long strides through the mud catch up to the male who was now several feet away and almost out of sight.

War was not a caregiver, but she attempted to be gentle when running up to the male with his, eh pup. If it was his? War would grumble to get his attention, try and make him stop his determined stride through the mud. War did not mind getting muddy, getting dirty was part of the job description for her, but carrying children were not.

If she caught the male’s attention she would find a dry spot to put the child onto and look at the male with an emotionless face. ”Yours?” A question. She looked at the pup and at him again. They certainly had some resemblance.
Tha gràin agam air an t-saoghal
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Ooc — Sofie
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#4
Derg wasn't stupid. He might look it, getting all beat up the way he has in his life. But not really.
He knew someone was following. Just not Tumeric, his miniature carbon copy.
If he knew he''d turn back and take him back to Arlette, since he was almost looking for Kynareth...
But he didn't think to check. Assumed it was Nyra or the tiger himself stalking him.

He glimpsed another as he crossed their path. A new recruit, by the looks of things. He wasn't in the mood for teaching, so he kept his head down and carried on.
Behind him was the sounds of a little scuffle. He stopped and turned then to see this untried stranger reaching for his son.

He turned fully, stiffening. Was this ok? Would Arlette allow this? He stared, almost dumbfounded. Why didn't he check to see who was following? Stupid, stupid.
"He's mine," he offered, shifting closer and trying to relax more. He itched to move the stranger away, but it was all or nothing with Derg.
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Loner
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He was so close! almost there! when a presence fell in from the side and sought to scoop him up in her mighty jaws.

She? Grab him? Not a chance! He'd come too far to be caught by someone bigger, and with a yelp and a sideways shuffle, Turmeric dodged out of the red woman's grasp and bolted in a direction he hadn't meant to go -

- which he fixed, after a mad scramble to right himself after tripping across some floopsy flopsy rain-soaked ferns.

Though drenched himself, and caked with mud, Turmeric shot towards his father with a, "Daddy! Dad!" and only a glance at the woman he'd evaded - the same woman, he realized, who'd thrown Alduin to the ground some short days before.

He didn't think she'd hurt him, but he wondered why she was always around. Her presence sung a song of mystery, and even as Turmeric scampered closer to Derg and sought out one of his forelegs for shelter, he wondered just who she was.
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Ooc — Eoran
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#6
They boy was clearly not in the mood for being picked up and shuffled sideways. She let him and did not attempt to pick him up again but watched as he darted around, first in a different direction, then turned toward the brown male. They certainly looked alike.

”He’s mine”

Good.

She nodded and watched as the child scurried behind the front leg of his father. She pointed her ears toward father and son. Not until then did she notice the many scars across the male. Battle scars was her first and only thought on the matter. Another warrior of the saints. She liked this place for its refinement of warriors and she knew then that this man was not a beginner in the arts of fighting.

”War”

She offered her name, though not realizing the male might not understand at first. Her name held deeper meaning and whatever or not it was her birthname she couldn’t recall anymore. She had known no other name or engraving to her than that, she was meant for war, she was build and trained for it. She would hate for it to change one day and would rather die in battle than of old age.

She could have offered more words but instead she looked at the small boy with a curious look. He always seemed to get himself in trouble somehow and War was there. Not to help necessarily, but she would watch over him anyway. She seemed to have become a guardian of pups as of late. Lots of puppies were being born lately. It was her duty as a packmate to protect them after all. They were the warriors of the future. Newcomers to battle and war but she the saints would prepare them for that. All in due time.
Tha gràin agam air an t-saoghal
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Ooc — Sofie
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#7
Derg could help the little smirk that crept on his face from his son's panic and poor escape.
He tucked his mini-me closer, hopefully helping dry him out. Arlette will be furious. Maybe he'll dunk the kid in some water - yeah, hell look fresh out the womb then. Perfect. No mud, no strangers, just playing in the river with dad.
He assessed the woman who was certainly a new member to the pack - Derg was surprised Kynareth let new faces in during whelping - and was probably another side piece. He wondered which limb the brindle male will be missing when Derg next sees him.
War.

"What about it?"
He knew they were planning on fucking up Ursus sometime soon. But still. not in front of Tumeric, who Derg now tucked further underneath him, blocking his way forwards through his front legs.
And to hide him from that too curious glance.
What was she doing with his son?
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