Stavanger Bay If it wiggles and it jiggles and it says boo

[size=x-small]Just a fall little activity it is not mandatory, but I think you should do it. Will get Exp for joining in on an activity in pack I believe :) You may dress your wolves in leaves or shells or seaweed. You can bring food all sorts of fun things :)

@Ragnar @Mordred @Ranger @Krikor @Goldrinn @Onyx @Aemilia @Gunnar @Charon @Liyaní @Levi [/size]

There had been much unrest in the pack in the last few weeks. There were orphans and missing children and dead friends. Today Thistle sought to make an end to this. It had taken her a long while and she had gotten some help from pack members, but had told them nothing. She had told them to meet her here when she howled and if they felt like it they could change their looks or bring food. In the middle of her area was a rock circle for them to dance around if the wished. There was an altar placed strategically near with offerings of food and plants for those who were passed on in this world. Her pack mates could bring an offering for a departed loved one.

She had rabbits, and fish and squirrels. She had not managed to get a deer, which was disappointing, but there were enough animals here for them to eat. Then she had went in search of items and she had some things here, if anyone forgot or didn't feel like bringing a costume of sorts. There were feathers and branches and shells, there were dyes she had made from her own herb stock.

She herself wore feathers in her fur, twisted and bound tight, dyes on her lighter spots including over her eyes, dark red streaks went down her face and muzzle giving her a more savage like appearance, black berry juice was present around her eyes, making her blue eyes seem to case an etheral glow. A willow branch twisted and turned adorned her head.

Then she lifted back her muzzle and she howled to her family. Offering them food, and games and stories and dancing to enjoy the day of Hallows Eve to some, Samhain to others. Then she waited quietly and with excitement bubbling in her belly.

Gunnar heard his mother's call and grabbing the two squirrels and the gyrfalcon he trotted towards her voice. Upon arriving he stared around wide eyed. There were so many things to look at. A ring of the pearly white stones that were washed clean in the rivers. There were altars of food for both the living and the dead. He sniffed at the menagerie of items to bind in his fur, or paint on his skin. His mother had outdone herself to give them all some joy. What a sight, he laid his offerings on the two altars, some for his family and some for Julooke and Verinne both who had gone onto Valhalla. Then he twisted feathers and shells throughout his fur, and put spots of color on his face and back. Then he sat and he waited.

Ranger had heard her alpha calling, Ranger had went and got some white feathers and put them in her fur, she also found some braided twine and placed it around her neck, she had looked into the stream and thought herself beautiful but often she wondered if she was, setting her thoughts quickly aside she turned and got the baby deer that she had killed earlier that day.

Ranger hoped that the pack liked the little fawn, the fawn wasnt alot but Ranger had two rabbits she was going to get also from her hunt that morning. Ranger had found a quite unique looking feather that morning to it was grey but with black and white lines going side to side so she was going to give it to her alpha.

Ranger ran to her alpha, she set the little fawn down then went up to her alpha and bowed graciously, "i found this feather and thought it unique so i thought i would give it to you so that you may wear it if you wanted" she said setting the feather down at thistles paws

Before Krikor had joined the Bay there had been many events that had caused turmoil. So many deaths in such a short amount of time could shake almost any strong hold. The Bay remained strong even after all of these events. Krikor had joined after the dust had settled. These shockwaves of death seemed to bring most of the wolves closer to each other.

When the ebony wolf heard Thistle calling out, speaking of some sort of party, he responded quickly. Grabbing a lone hare, that he was going to eat later, Krikor went off towards the direction of the petite wolf's howl. Upon arrival at the meeting grounds Krikor noticed two wolves he had never met before, and his female alpha. Walking gracefully over to the Thistle he laid the hazel hare in the pile of dead flesh.

Seeing that Thistle had dyed her fur the male chose to follow in her footsteps. Taking some dark blood red dye Krikor painted three lines on ether sides of his cheeks. The male also died one ring of ruby around his left paw. Walking back over to the stock of flesh the swarthy male took half of a large fish and laid down on the cold dirt. Krikor slowly consumed the fresh fish as he waited for more of his pack mates to arrive to the gathering.

Onyx heard a call from Thistle, a party of some sort. She was not so afraid of Thistle so she decided to attend. She first went hunting, quickly catching three adult gulls within minutes. She also searched throughout the undergrowth for a minute, finiding several crow and/or raven feathers. Onyx twisted several in her fur, especially on her tail. When put in the sun just right they glinted dark greens and dark purples.

Onyx headed towards the source and arrived about four minutes after the call. Everything was set up all nice, and it was obvious some effort had been put in. Upon seeing the dyes, and noticing this was trending, she headed towards them. She found a vibrant purple-blue color, and put it on her eyelids like eyeshadow, making her more attractive. She then took the color and put stripes like a raccoon's on her tail. She also coated her front paws in it. Now she had black feathers and vibrant colors mixed in her fur. She looked truly festive for whatever they were celebrating.

Onyx went to Thistle, and said quietly, "hello." She dropped the three seagulls in front of her. "These are for you and your family if you wish." She said politely. Not in a way of showing off, but instead it sounded like she didn't know what else to do with them.

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Ragnar was not in the mood to be festive, yet the Gods demanded that he be. Yet, and not for the first time in his life, Ragnar contemplated being defiant of their wishes, which was about as worse as the time he screamed at Odinn for taking Dagmar and his children's lives before they had came from her womb. Being angry at the Gods was not something that Ragnar openly practiced, or enjoyed being but there were some instances when it had to be ridiculous. Why should he praise them? When all they do — all they would ever do — was give with one hand but take away with the other. Julooke and Verrine were dead. Gyda was missing, Mercury had left to try to find her and Nerian had left without so much as a goodbye. Ragnar wasn't really seeing in which the Gods had given him. These days, the Lodbrok couldn't help but feel that all they did was take from him. And what did they give him in compensation? What had they given him that equaled the unbridled pain of all of that happening at more or less the same time. Nothing. They had given Ragnar nothing, and to say that he was irritated with them was an understatement of the year. He was furious, and he needed to have a nice, long chat with the All-Father and soon; because Ragnar wasn't sure how much more he could take. Again and again he worked tirelessly to prove himself to Odinn, and again and again Odinn tested every single limit of Ragnar's being Repetitive. Unending. Was it too selfish to ask for ease? For a full, happy pack? Or was the blame, instead, to be placed upon Ragnar's own head? Was this — all of it — his fault.

Ragnar kept taking the obstacles as they came, kept surviving in the hopes that someday soon he would appease his Gods and that they would grant him something from all that they had taken from him. Ragnar had little ones to take care of once more, he had a pack to continue to lead, and lives to account for. Giving up, was not only decidedly not in the Northman's nature, but it was also not in the book. This, all of it, was just another bump in the road and like all things, it would pass. Life would resume and the activity of the Bay wolves would pick up and everything would be fine. Ragnar had to convince himself of that in order to convince his subordinates of it. Lesser men would break, but Ragnar had never seen himself as a lesser man, and at the end of the day: he'd endured worse before.

When Thistle's call had risen into the air, he set aside his irritation and his stormy mood as much as he was physically capable of doing in favor of not ruining the festival. The greed of the God's (perhaps it was Loki playing a nasty trick on him all along?) was not enough to shake his faith, nor dissolve his loyalty to them. In honor of the festivities Ragnar had painted his fur in the blood of a sacrifice to Odinn, mixing some of his own blood into the platinum hairs of his coat, enlisting the help of Thistle to twine raven feathers into the en-longed fur at the nape of his neck. The scarred Scandinavian cut an gruesome figure, painted in blood and decorated with raven feathers, but it was in honor of the All-Father (never mind Ragnar's disagreements with him at the moment). He was not the second to arrive, showing up after Gunnar, Krikor, Onyx and Ranger, yet that did not give him any hesitation as he strode to his Queen Wife's side, pausing to give her a playful nip to her cheek, before he took a seat beside his son, offering the boy a playful bump to the shoulder.

When Thistle called, Charon had followed some or other family member — one of his siblings or Ragnar's family — to the location. He didn't really understand much of what was going on but, seeing that others of his family had done things with feathers and colours in their fur, Charon brought a feather in his mouth and had splashed some mud over his freckled face. It didn't look like much of a dress-up — more like he'd just got dirty playing in a puddle of mud — but it was the best the young child could do.

He wasn't sure what the intention of the festivity was, and wasn't sure if it was a good thing, but as soon as he arrived and saw the pile of food, he was excited and forgot all his earlier worries and uncertainties.

Forgetting that it was actually a part of his dressing-up, Charon padded over to the pile of food on oversized paws and dropped his feather on the pile. He looked like he was very proud of his "catch", as though he was greatly contributing to the pack and its wealth by adding his one feather to the pile of many foods. Eyeing Thistle, Charon queried, "I can has?" clearly — in his mind, anyway — speaking about the catches the pack had brought together. He saw a squirrel in the pile that he wanted to play with, but he wasn't sure it would be okay.

Levi followed Charon, but without much of his usual playfulness. He was sad, depressed even, and his blue eyes that were just starting to turn held a lifetime of sorrow within their depths. Levi had no mother, had no father, and his twin was missing. He didn't know how to function without those three wolves in his life, and now that he was alone, he didn't know what to do. Charon was his only comfort. The older boy kept him warm and even played with him from time to time, when Levi felt up to playing.

Today, even as the others around him dressed themselves in shells and seaweed and mud, Levi simply sat on the sidelines and watched, the silence surrounding him like a bubble. He hadn't spoken in days now, and only nodded or shook his head when others asked him questions. He still ate and drank, still used the bathroom like he was supposed to, but his heart wasn't in it. Levi simply went through the motions of being alive without feeling like it.

The pack had experienced losses, two of the older members had passed and a pup had gone missing, and a few others had left. Yet the pack still lived on and they pushed aside their troubles by celebrating. Dyes and baubles decorated many of the members of the pack, and Mordred followed the trend, using brighter colors to offset his natural dark tones. He used blue to streak underneath his eyes down his neck and swirling it on his shoulder. Green he used to decorate his haunches and tail with smaller streaks and dots. On his neck, bright white feathers made a blinding white mane.

Sir Mordred collected a brace of large, plump fish from the sea, and trotted towards the Lady Thistle Cloud's howl where many of his fellow pack mates gathered, decorated in primitive makeup. He dropped his offerings by the others, sitting as he waited for the others.

Most of the pack was there not all of them, but most. She smiled at them all, she wanted to nudge the little puppies, but stayed a bit aways until it was time to eat. She did not wish to force herself upon them. Standing with her tail held high she had leaned into her husband's love bite and smiled.

Looking around her she spoke loudly This is rather an informal gathering. As you can see there are two altar's. one is for any and all of you to eat from. The other is to pay homage to both the gods and those we have lost in time. I have put together a ring you are more than welcome to dance around it or merely sit and tell stories of those ancestors that may have visited you in time. Also if any of you have games from your respective homes you'd like to introduce us too, please do. Now ENJOY! Then she backed up that was the best she could do, it was really very informal, not much she could make them do.

She nosed Charon gently Yes you can have it Charon. Then she smiled at all the others and grasping a rabbit for herself she waited to see if anyone would speak up.

Charon nudged Levi's shoulder as they waited for the other wolves to arrive and festivities to begin, trying to cheer his brother up a little. Even though Charon was sad, he didn't want to let his sadness show too much because he knew it would only make Levi sadder.

As Thistle began to speak, Charon's ears perked up and he listened to what she had to say. He didn't understand all of it fully just yet, and he wasn't sure what these 'gods' were that Thistle spoke of (he hadn't ever heard Julooke or Verrine mention them), but he was glad that he was allowed to pick up the squirrel he'd eyed.

"C'mon Levi," said Charon and he nudged Levi's shoulder again. Then he quickly dashed towards the pile of catches and grabbed the squirrel he'd seen before and wanted to play with. So far his meat had come in regurgitated form, so he didn't start eating the squirrel, but he moved his head from left to right and back again really fast, swinging it around, in play. Then he looked around to see if Levi had followed (and if not, he trotted back to Levi with the squirrel dangling from his mouth) and swung the squirrel through the air in front of Levi, throwing it into the air and catching it again to show his brother how much fun it was and, hopefully, encourage him to either try and take Charon's squirrel or grab something of his own to play with.

oh wait there's no posting order? Ok.

Onyx watched as a few others arrived, including Ragnar. Then she listened as Thistle began to speak to them, explaining the festival thing. Onyx didn't get the part about gods or those lost in time. She wanted to tell stories and play games, but she didn't know anyone who might want to play games... Unless Thistle and Ragnar wanted to, which she thought probably not. (At this time she has not yet met Charon.) So she quietly, but a little louder than usual called out, "Does anybody wanna play a game or tell stories with me?" She asked, and began to feel very lonely. She sat on the ground, waiting to see if anybody would come over to hang out with her or if she would be left alone.

The knight looked up, listening to the Lady Thistle Cloud as she explained the meaning of this celebration. To worship the gods and those they had lost. He worshipped no gods, or spirits. And those that he had lost he had stopped mourning a long time ago. So instead of doing that, the knight turned to the young black female who had spoke louder than the rest. "I could spin a few tales, young lady."

[size=x-small]One more round. Didn't mean for this to drag on like this, but I was waiting for others. So yay :D[/size]

Thistle shifted and smiled at Onyx. And studied the little ones from afar. Then she nodded at Mordred. By all means Mordred the floor is yours. She stepped back and tucked her small body next to ragnar's and simply waited. She was glad to offer the good times he could today. Happy to offer a little bit of something to her large family.

Levi didn't seem to be into playing much, so Charon gave up after a few good tugs on the squirrel himself. He wasn't yet of the age where he ate his own non-regurgitated meat so he didn't do much beside play with the dead carcass, and left it alone as soon as Mordred offered to tell stories.

"Yeah!" said Charon excitedly as Thistle Cloud gave him the floor, and Charon plopped down, hoping Levi was still somewhere by his side, waiting for Mordred to begin his story telling time.

During the story, he would listen intently and Charon would stay until everyone else had gone home and it was just him and Thistle Cloud - and others of the family - left over. Then he would go home with his foster family, tugging his brother along as he went, and sleep plentiful after such a busy and eventful day.

Levi ignored his brother's antics, though some instinct wanted jump forward and play with that squirrel, too. However, he was old enough to know that he was sad, and he didn't feel like playing today. But he was here, and that had to count for something. His slowly-changing eyes turned toward Thistle Cloud, his ears swiveled forward as he listened to what she had to say, but in the end Levi didn't care to play or celebrate anything. He didn't know if he would ever he cheerful again.

there has (obviously) been a long pause but i got permission to continue and assume Onyx was going to tell a story first.

Onyx couldn't help but smile a little as some became interested. But she hadn't wanted someone else to tell a story, she wanted to tell one! Maybe the dark grey man, apparently Mordred, could tell his after hers. She would start first though. After just a few seconds she thought of the perfect one. Her Mama had told it to her when she was very little, and in her mind she dedicated it to her. I'd like to tell mine first. She murmured politely, and continued. Once upon a time there was a young man called Axe. Axe had gray fur, but the wonderful thing about Axe was that he had two different colored eyes! One was very bright blue, like Sir Ragnar Loðbrók, and the other was honey colored, like Sir Majesty. She didn't stop to think about the fact that few here had even heard of Majesty, and even less seen his eyes. So one day Axe was out for a walk along the shore. Then he saw something in the distance. It was a brown bear! The bear noticed him. It was eating some gulls, and it was afraid that Axe would try to take them. It was going to fight him anyway, but suddenly it saw his eyes! If it killed him, it could tear out his beautiful eyes and keep them. So the bear forgot about the gull and raced forward towards Axe! It slammed into him, and he fell, but was up again in seconds, not without some large bruises along his side from hitting the ground so hard. Axe became fearful for his life. Now, Axe was no normal wolf, no, he had powers. His ice blue eye lit up and within seconds he was invisible to the bear. His amber eye lit up next, and he charged forward with the power, anger, and strength of ten angry cougars. He collided with the bear, and threw it to the side. Axe was about to kill it, but it pleaded for mercy. Said Axe, "why should I show mercy on you, when you have charged me for no reason?" He became visible again, and his strength and anger faded. "Because, I only wanted eyes like yours." Both of Axe's eyes lit up, and the bear thought he would kill it, so it closed it eyes. But there was a sound like an avalanche, that faded quickly as it came. And the bear wondered what hapened. When it opened it's eyes, one was a magnificent purple, and the other was bright leafy green. "Look in the water" Axe told the bear. It got up slowly and walked to the sea, and looked in. It gasped when it saw it's eyes. Axe smiled and his ice eye glowed as he disappeared and walked away. Now, Axe's eyes represented invisibility and strength, but the bear's eyes were for wisdom and beauty, which was what it needed most. Perhaps the story didn't have much of a moral, it was just something to listen to, and hopefully entertain the rest.

Thistle Cloud tilted her head and listened to the story. The young ones were all nestled softly asleep and content. She would not move them perhaps, let them lay there if the adults would allow. She smiled and gave Onyx thanks with a dip of her muzzle. She did not wish to wake the children, but rather allow them to sleep.