Stavanger Bay good day for a haunting
Loner
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Ooc — jal
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#1
This world didn't feel like his own anymore. Years had passed, like, a LOT of years since Szymon and Doe had walked this ground and given him life. He couldn't really recall what had ever happened to them in the end... nor the fate of the grubby beings he once shared a whelping nest with. Few names, like Julep and Thuringwethil, were familiar enough to edge his recollection - yet he couldn't be bothered with all that sentimental shit. Numerous concussions and more relevant life experiences since then left his memory cloudy anyways, so fondly remembering those who had once shaped him was a task he never attempted. 

Isengrim often found himself struggling to find footing in the world beyond him with such little sense of self to go on. It hadn't always been like this, but then suddenly, it was. One day something simply... stirred within him. It was the realization that he fundamentally did not know who he was. Perhaps it was that listless wonder that drove him to return to the homelands, or perhaps it was that he had nowhere else to go and nobody else left to follow. 

Somehow, an anchoring instinct had driven his weathered feet forwards. He had very little beyond it, but this innate sense of direction that urged him to return. Maybe his mother was calling him home. 

The scraggly beast falls to the shore upon reaching the banks of the water; his slender frame melting easily into the sand. The bay was gloomy and restless, much like the day his father had chucked them off the side of the cliff into the monstrous waters below, claiming the life of his brother. It was not a memory he could recall in full, nothing beyond knowing it had indeed happened and Julep's altered recounts. He sighs deeply against the chill of the season-changing wind dancing between his ribs. From afar one could deduce that he was a man surrendering to the eventual tide that would swallow him whole and send him out to sea as it did his sibling. 

He is yet to determine if there would be enough fight left in him to beat against the current and push his head above water, as his younger self had done that day. Eyes fluttered closed, he takes in the sounds of the bay and waits for a reason to stand.
the barracuda
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Ash Paw traced tiny paws along the sand. Blue eyes upon the distant horizon, pert nose in the air.  Her thoughts were on her father, who was gone, her auntie too, and Gunnar. Though he wasn't, she wondered at his health. He was no youngling. She should seek him out, if nothing more than the familial connection. She had no one here, not anymore, Not even friends.

Ash Paw had set out on this quest to help her auntie to her death bed. Had followed and watched, waiting. Knowing what waited for her at the end. And now here she was, with no ties to the land other than old memories from a mind filled with love and emotions, Ash was not privy too. A land that had sounded beautiful and promising, and now it simply felt lonely and lost. Part of it was her fault, she knew this She did not seek out relationships of any kind, perhaps she should change that, but frankly put. She didn't know how.

Ash Paw had seen the other from a distance, a scarecrow of a wolf. When they had fallen to the sands, she had stirred her tiny frame faster. Something in her, telling her. She needed to get there. And get there she did. Finally she was close enough, she nosed forward slowly, uncertain if it was still living, though upon further observation she realized the it, was really a him.

She saw his side expand against sunken rib cage and she spoke softly. Hello, are you quite alright? Can I help you in someway?

She found herself feeling or knowing to be gentler with this one than others. Her usual abrasiveness, hiding for the moment.
Ash Paw is a follower of Atka and Sos as she ages, who she will follow will depend on ic mostly.

Will be doing a lot of toiling/planting the herbs she gathered in August. Sacrifices mostly animals, but may use her own blood at times, so it will be normal to see superficial scratches on her.

September, Beaver Moon - the time of harvest and great toil. Long days and nights of rebuilding, unity, and strength for the upcoming Crow Moon. Weak links are repaired. Looming dread for the Crow Moon.
Rituals:
- Day of the Bee: sweet mint and summer flowers are harvested to promote the pollen collectors for determination and strength in work.
- Night of Atka and Sos: the end of this season heralds a vital ritual dedicated to the Primary gods. Large, exotic prey (or blood of a wolf) are offered to appease the coming wrath of Sos in the Crow Moon. A particularly savage event, it dictates the entire outcome of the pack's survival.
- ceremonies involving sacrificial offerings and gifts are prevalent to help overcome the winter and prepare for hardship.
- Day of the High Tide/Fall Equinox 9/22/22: offerings are placed within the sea to appease Sedna during the oceans highest/largest tide
Loner
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#3
Isengrim accepts his solutide for what feels like only a minute before the wanderer finds him. the pitched voice raises an inquiry and he blinks slowly up at the figure looming over him, nose scrunching in confusion as tired eyes meet the gaze of this individual does not recognize. Admittedly, her tone is kind and raises no perceived threat however he is annoyed with the intrusion and brushes off her inquiry. 

"Do I know you or sumthin'?" He grumbles dryly before returning his gaze to the approaching tide. But she is here now, and he is burdened to carry out this interaction for however long it extends and so with a sigh, he digs his nails into the sand and stretches out his skeletal frame. The man is taller than he looks laying down, a nod to the regent Cairns' impressive stature. A couple (or, maybe a lot) more pounds and a leviathan could have been made of him, but years of lonerism left him permanently lean. 

On that note, a low grumble stemming from his abdomen indicates it has been too long since his last meal, and he turns to the girl once more. "You uh... got any snacks?" his head tilts slightly, asking the question with a lighter tone than his first retort. Perhaps it would benefit the man to be generally nicer, however, the salty brood had been raised manner-less and proud, and the wilds had taught him to be anything but.
the barracuda
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Yellow eyed gaze had met hers. He hadn't said anything at first just looked at her. Clearly she had bothered him, though with a look around her. She wondered briefly what could be so pressing that the man would lay down and let the tide take him. That was depressing. Though she supposed had she found him dead, he would have made a wonderful sacrifice to her gods for this current moon.

Ash Paw raised a haughty brow. I certainly wouldn't think so. I'm not keen on laying down for the tide to take me, and most of my aquanitances wouldn't do so either. However, my name is Ash Paw, so now you do. Know me that is.

Ash watches as he stretches out. He is much bigger than her, and a brief flare of unease sets upon her. She really should learn not to talk to strangers, but she quickly pushes it aside. She will not show fear to anyone. And why fear anyway. If it were her time, it would be her time.

Ash Paw's maw dances into an amused smile at his stomach growl and his query. I do not, but I can get you some. I'll be right back.

She gave a decisive nod and without any further indication she turned towards the nearest small meadowed area. Leaving him to his own devices for a moment.

Benefit to having an auntie that have lived here, she knows some of the secret places of Stavanger. She didn't need to go far, before small and tightly wound, she bursts forward and grabs a nearby rabbit.

Loping back to the stranger, the rabbit in her maw. She drops it at his feet and moves backwards a small pant.
Ash Paw is a follower of Atka and Sos as she ages, who she will follow will depend on ic mostly.

Will be doing a lot of toiling/planting the herbs she gathered in August. Sacrifices mostly animals, but may use her own blood at times, so it will be normal to see superficial scratches on her.

September, Beaver Moon - the time of harvest and great toil. Long days and nights of rebuilding, unity, and strength for the upcoming Crow Moon. Weak links are repaired. Looming dread for the Crow Moon.
Rituals:
- Day of the Bee: sweet mint and summer flowers are harvested to promote the pollen collectors for determination and strength in work.
- Night of Atka and Sos: the end of this season heralds a vital ritual dedicated to the Primary gods. Large, exotic prey (or blood of a wolf) are offered to appease the coming wrath of Sos in the Crow Moon. A particularly savage event, it dictates the entire outcome of the pack's survival.
- ceremonies involving sacrificial offerings and gifts are prevalent to help overcome the winter and prepare for hardship.
- Day of the High Tide/Fall Equinox 9/22/22: offerings are placed within the sea to appease Sedna during the oceans highest/largest tide
Loner
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Ooc — jal
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#5
Almost judgingly of his current predicament, the girl replies with a haughty retort - something about her response irked him. What did he care for the mannerisms of her and her flock? He doubts any of them had once been a literal warlord's slave. At some point, he had gained the mental baggage of being tossed around from one trivalent experience to the next; worn and weary with the weight of all that had occurred. He even struggled to recall much of it, and still was unable to determine if those gaps in his memory were by his own omission or not. 

A pointed gaze settled within his sharp features, ears pinned forward to return the sentiment. "Oh, well, good for you and your acquaintances." The salty man rolls his eyes. "Some of us have issues, sister." Ash Paw. At least he wasn't named after a dirty foot, the man snickers to himself internally. He has no chance to verbalize it before she darts off in an unspecified search, returning almost no minute later with... apparently his dinner? She drops it at his feet and he stares down for a moment, before returning his gaze to her. 

What the hell? This had never happened before. In fact, he had been rather expecting to be told to fuck right off. However, with no apprehension, he flops to the ground with a wet thud and his canines eagerly begin the work of tearing the small carcass apart. "Did you... pull... this... outta your ass or... something?"  Isengrim questions between gnarled bites, wondering in the back of his mind if there was some sort of nearby cache he could continue to steal out of. 

Bellowing out a full and happy belch at the satisfaction of devouring the rabbit in record time, the man settles comfortably into the sand again. Upon gazing back at the woman before him, he recounts their earlier exchange of words. It then occurs to him that he had absent-mindedly admitted a personal defeat, and his brow furrows once more. "Hey, who said I was letting the tide take me anyways? My folks owned this bay once. I know how to swim." He knows he sounds like a child desperate to prove something, but truly, she has stumbled upon him at an unfortunate time for his very fragile ego.
the barracuda
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Ash Paw had not been judging just pointing out the obvious. He was the big fool who could roll her over twice and stand above her with sickening delight if he so wanted. She sniffed. Anyway, he was the one laying down like a dunder head, while the tide came in and out. It was not becoming really.

Ash Paw gave a soft giggle and nodded her head, but made no more comment. He had stated it himself when he had said some had issues. Though she was taken back a bit at his use of sister. She had never had siblings before, and thus the remark was a bit lost on her.

Ash Paw stared at him with a deadpan look. I think not. One, wouldn't fit whole. Two, disgusting.

She shook her head, small petite muzzle turning up into a smile. My family lived here years ago. I know many of the spots around the bay that most are not privy too.

She shifted and settled to her haunches to let him finish his meal and she wanted to ask him, were he alright, but it seemed rather intrusive in this instance. He was clearly not fine, but for what reason she didn't know. 

Ash paw blew out a soft breath at his words, wrinkling her nose at his belch. You were laying on the ground, right next to the tide as it was coming in on high tide......I believe that is proof enough for my eyes.

She wished to add Thank you very much, but felt that this would be rather unbecoming and tactless. She looked over him with Azure blue eyes, taking him in as he now was in a better position to study.

Sunny Yellow eyes, pretty fur. But clearly unkempt, dirty and she sniffed. He smelled like fish and brine.

What were you doing by the way?
Ash Paw is a follower of Atka and Sos as she ages, who she will follow will depend on ic mostly.

Will be doing a lot of toiling/planting the herbs she gathered in August. Sacrifices mostly animals, but may use her own blood at times, so it will be normal to see superficial scratches on her.

September, Beaver Moon - the time of harvest and great toil. Long days and nights of rebuilding, unity, and strength for the upcoming Crow Moon. Weak links are repaired. Looming dread for the Crow Moon.
Rituals:
- Day of the Bee: sweet mint and summer flowers are harvested to promote the pollen collectors for determination and strength in work.
- Night of Atka and Sos: the end of this season heralds a vital ritual dedicated to the Primary gods. Large, exotic prey (or blood of a wolf) are offered to appease the coming wrath of Sos in the Crow Moon. A particularly savage event, it dictates the entire outcome of the pack's survival.
- ceremonies involving sacrificial offerings and gifts are prevalent to help overcome the winter and prepare for hardship.
- Day of the High Tide/Fall Equinox 9/22/22: offerings are placed within the sea to appease Sedna during the oceans highest/largest tide