Ravensblood Forest Bloody Tails of Hunting Union

Tiny petite body slithered and slunk through the forest. Blood upon tawny spots showing dark and foreboding. Black spots hiding the darker sport. 

Rabbits and squirrels and birds. She was hunting with a fervor. It was the month of spirits and Sos. Bloody sports and bloody sacrifices and she was lost.

Limbs heavy and head bowed she pushed onward. A strange gleam in her blue eyes. This was the month she gave to Sos. Fearful if she did not he would devour.

the way i made myself thirsty writing this post, lol.

cobwebbing details of the prophecy that refuses to ebb from ingram's mind make themselves known when they stare into the empty, dark sockets of the giftbone's soulless eyes and are left to tease the dreadfather even when they turn away to persue the physical need of sating their hunger and quenching their sudden thirst.

that was usual: the thirst, the cottony feeling of their tongue in their mouth.

after grabbing a quick bite at one of the food caches; dwindling, and lapping at the cooling waters of the nearest freshwater source, the dreadfather follows the one trail that seems to be as consistent as their own.

it does not take long to find her, amidst this pack of what feels like ghosting presences. the reminders of the 'prophecy' tug at the forefront of their mind, but they push it aside in favor of letting out a low chuff to garner ash paw's attention.

not me taking a big gulp of water agter i read it, lol.

Ash Paw continued doggedly forward. Oblivious to the movements of her packmate throughout the forest of ravens.

She was startled from her reverie by a low sound and she turned blue eyes to light upon the black and silver pelage of The Dreadfather.

Ahe stopped her movement and stood still, silent for a momwnt. Then forced herself forward mindful of the absolute gore that colored her.

Hello dreadfather. she offered him a small incline of her head.

ingram draws in a breath, seaglass gaze taking note of the gore that ash paw wore upon her pelage. for the briefest of moments they are surprised but then it fades away as they remember the last conversation they had with her. she was going to sacrifice to her sos. sacrifices going well? they ask in form of greeting.

a pause, a twitch of their ear.

have you noticed the ghosts that inhabit this land with us? they ask, giving voice for the first time to their observation to the fading scents of many of those who had once called this land home. a twitch of their scarred lips given.

His intake of surprise was not lost on the she wolf, but she ignored it. She nodded her head one sharp movement.

I have two piles. One for Sos and Atka, mostly Sos and then for the caches. Winter is coming. We should not be caught unaware.

She took a deep breath and nodded. My auntie said that this was a sacred place to Ragnar. And many more. That she had heard tales of witch's here.

She had smelled the scents. Had seen the paths of former footpaws even found small pieces of something worshipped and had left it be.

a sage nod is given, understanding the want of sacrifices enough despite that they do not agree they should be given to other gods ( they are selfish, they cannot help it ) they do not vocalize this. ever so slowly, at a snail's pace, they are learning to lessen their possessive hold upon wanting to hoarde such things to and for themselves.

she does not worship the daedra and they cannot expect anything else.

a soft twist of amusement tugs at the corners of their scarred lips. that is not what i meant, they correct her in a manner that could be mistaken for soft. i mean the living ghosts. the wolves that were supposed to lead and live here. perhaps it is their mistake, perhaps they see only what they want to see because they want to see it.

they want their threadbones to be true.

Were he to prove he was indeed the God he so implied. She would possibly be persuaded. However, she had only seen thr makings of a soothsayer, seer. Not god. Though she didn't voice this, as she liked the small alliance they had as of late.

She titled tawny and blq k ears forward trying to hear his words and she dipped her muzzle. 

Yes the borders have been quiet the scents stale. I know some had gone hunting, but have not returned. Should we go looking?

She didnt wish too, she would rather shore up for the winter.  And reevaluate come spring. Though early spring she herself would need to disappear for a time to be hidden and hermitage.

a soft, contemplative rumble lingers in the dreadfather's throat at her question.

the borders were going stale, according to her. so, they surmise, it was not just wishful manipulative thinking on their part which was equal parts relieving and thrilling as tendrils of the vision dance, once more, in the forefront of their mind: refusing to be forgotten.

this vision has dug it's claws into ingram like a greedy parasite and they were in no hurry to dispel it.

it is not our job to chase them down and bring them back. ingram speaks of their belief with a lofty shrug of their shoulders. if leadership cannot wisely steer this pack by sending so many hunting so far then i will not stay. and what ingram has seen so far: there was little wisdom to be found. they do not linger in the realm of morality long enough to feel bad about how cruel their words came across; cutting.

it was the truth as they saw it.

Ash Paw had thought perhaps it was her fault the borders were empty and the scents stale. It had only happened as she had arrived upon the borders and bade entry. Perhaps bad luck of her family followed her. Though she supposed....not all luck was bad. She had met this one, she had learned more of herself in the process. Perhaps. just perhaps.

Ash Paw tilted her head. So you will leave? Will you go back to your island? Speaking of. She frowned as she remembered.

I recently healed a wolf on the borders. He said to give you a name. It was I believe Isangrim. And he said that Pelageus had replaced him?

She frowned remembering the manner to which she had met the boy. He had been weak and sick and strange. Oh so strange.

though ash paw's question of them leaving does not exactly come across as judging to ingram, they rankle at it all the same; fur at their nape bristling slightly. i have no tethers of loyalty, ingram tells her simply; shoulders rising and falling in a lofty roll. no attachments.

for a very brief moment they consider her question. no, is offered both firmly and without explanation, before, slowly, words pry from betwixt their lips. it is not sustainable enough for myself...— a brief pause. or those that might feel inclined to follow me.

if there was time to incur their prophecy of usurping — though there was little left to usurp — now was the time.

there was a moment as she begun her next sentence that ingram's breath catches in their throat. their nightwife! is their first assumption. that brief spark of hope is extinguished and then lit anew by the name she speaks.

ears slick back against their skull; scarred lips parting. my son, ingram offers in a soft rumble that was very nearly a croon. even if the soul of pelageus has taken the body as host: it was not surprising. for that very thing had happened to them and their nightwife. the daedra were taking whatever hosts they so desired in these wilds and it pleases the dreadfather greatly.

where? ingram demands a bit more forcibly than they mean to.

Ash Paw watched as his fur bristled and she raised a haughty eyebrow, but said nothing for the moment. He should know by now that tone and attitude matter much to her. And he and she though they had an; she didn't want to say friendship because she is not sure he could. And were his nightwife or his fellow gods to bade her death he'd give it. But they did get along for now.

You lie. It's most unbecoming. You have attachments and ties. Your nightwife.

She gave a brief chuckle. It sounds as if you'd like me to follow you for a time dreadfather.

Ash studied him. He looked barely old enough father children. If she wasn't mistaken and if he had he was at the very cusp of age. Unlike she who had already gone through 2 seasons. But she ignored the thought. He could have adopted, stolen, raised.

She motioned towards the shore. Near Sea Lion Shores. I will take you to where i last saw him, but he left fairly quickly.

i just realized she is quite a bit older than he lol

i frequently forget how young ingram is, lol.

i meant to sacrarium, they correct smoothly; scarred lips curling upwards in a ghosting smile that is wily, reveling in their vagueness and the resulting confusion. they hadn't intentionally meant to set her up, truly, but they are amused by the outcome all the same.

that is entirely up to you, ingram murmurs in response to her conclusion. a soft breath is taken; the sweet smell of the blood colored sap filling their nostrils. any and all followers will come of their own accord. they only believed in holding wolves against their will if they deserved the punishment ...but the druids? that was of their own free will.

seaglass gaze cuts in the direction she motions. no, that is alright. ingram replies softly; not too quickly. they appreciate their offer but reuniting with their son is something they must do alone. i must find pelageus on my own. especially when there was no telling how it would go.

I did too until I was reading his profile lmao. 

Again he is amused at her expense. To this point she is wondering if the shadow vortexed wolf pelt just enjoyed riling her. Some wolves are like this she knows.

Me either when it comes to here. I joined on accident and decided what was the point of leaving, when winter was upon us. Little did I know they would make the decision for me.

Ash Paw studied him with her bright blue eyes. Could you tolerate mine own beliefs in a pack of your making? There is no denying you prefer the daedra where i prefer the bears.

Tawny and black wolf nods slowly. She wished to show him her support somehow, but she knew he was not a fan of touching, so she wasn't certain how to let him know she understood.

I hope it is a good meeting when you come upon each other again.

he's one of those characters that i feel so familiar with that i feel like i've played him forever, lol.

he is not particularly surprised to hear that she, too, does not feel like there are any binding ties of loyalty to this place; after all, the first and only time he'd seen leadership was during his joining ...and that had not lasted long at all. not enough information had been shared for him to feel like he knew vagabond at all. the others ...appeared to stick to themselves. and while that was fine, there was a lacking sense of community. which, he wonders, is what the downfall of blackwater had been, though he was not critical of his nightwife.

this consideration he will take and apply it to the foundations of ...what ever he appeared to be building.

i could, ingram rumbles his reply. i do not think the daedra and your bears are so different. those words felt like poison upon his tongue, but he cannot deny the similiaries to himself and her sos. a druid is a druid regardless of who they worship. and he would not turn her ( or any other ) away. cohabitation was possible, after all.

i favored his sister before isolation took my nightwife and them away from me. perhaps they all still lingered in the wilds somewhere...but the voidwraiths would bring them back to him when they were ready, he feels sure. i cannot say for sure how it will go.

I am that way with Rodyn and Reyson.

Ash Paw may not know much of community or pack ties. She herself was in a simple familial unit until she no longer was. Her first foray into pack life had been this one, and thus far. It was lacking. Though she didn't truly blame the leaders all. She herself was not the most easy to get along with. She was haughty and proud, a bit stand offish. 

Ash Paw fully laughed. He had not given much away, but she had grown to know him well enough to realize. 

That was painful for you to admit wasn't it. She giggled again, loud, and carefree. She wasn't sure how he would take it, but she couldn't help it. Though there wasn't a lie in his thoughts were she privy to them. Sos was much like his daedra Sithis/Sithus that he claimed to be. She could not remember the full name. 

Ash Paw studied him. Will you favor his sister again were she to come back? Because if you are, perhaps it would be a kindness to let him be. Granted I really have no way to say or really I shouldn't say, for I have no siblings. My parents were quite on in years when they had me. Mother died upon my birth and father, well he tried, but what are father's to do with daughters who do not listen.

her laughter trills thru the air 'round them, the leaves of the towering trees rustling in their amusement as well, joining in on the mirth. a scowl forms upon scarred lips; salmon pink tongue drawling across his jowls. it was in good fun, he knows ( hopes, assumes! ) but that does not mean that he likes being the source of amusement ( though he deserves it ). it was. he admits lowly, smoky timbre lifting within his exasperated sigh.

the words tasted like rot. that was a dramatic overexaggeration but he was suddenly feeling theatrical. but my second sentence holds true. a druid is a druid, no matter their religion. on that, at least, he holds firm. magicks had no true home, did not have one true god: they flowed like the ever rising and ebbing tide. it came from the earth and the moon, from the stars. magick was older than gods; greedily harvested by them to be twisted into their bidding.

no, ingram says, after giving it a moment of thought. i will favor no child. i will mentor him ...and his siblings if they return to me. but i will no longer favor one over the other. for favoring only ended in perdictable disappointment.

His scowl only formed her laughter harder. Truth be told. She liked him like this in all his grumpiness, he was a bit like a surly child and she found it amusing. At his admission her laughter grew again. and even more so at his dramatics. And she could not help the nudge of her paw to his shoulder in mirth. Though she quickly drew it back as it burned.

Sorry. 

We can agree on that then. That the religion doesn't matter in a way as long as the end result in the same.

She could hold a peaceful existence with him, if he did not harrangue her of her religion and she would, must remember to do the same courtesy. It was only a kindness.

Ash Paw gave him a winning smile. You've grown. This shows growth. Good. I think you will make a fine mentor when they return to you.

She wiggled in place and shook out her fur. Now I really must continue hunting. Would you like to come along?

his scowl deepens at her apology; especially when it was followed by more laughter. he takes it in as good a stride as he is capable...which was something of feat. but he is all too eager to move the conversation elsewhere when it presents itself to him. perhaps. he allows in response to it being growth: but it makes sense that he wouldn't notice it.

i will hunt with you. he offers; gesturing for her to take the lead, content to let her take charge of the hunt.