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 Posted: Sat Jan 30, 2010 4:22 pm
 It was winter again. The season that made her blood burn when she remembered what had happened. The pelt that was such a part of her amost seemed to twitch on its own as she remembered the old woman who had come to her in the cold, who had turned her life down this dark and hate-filled path. And yet, as much as she hated the gall of that despicable human, she couldn't help revel in the power she had gained. Strength, speed...and the willpower to overcome the weaknesses she had once possessed.
Tlocatl's son, the one who had foolishly sought her out, had left her territory months ago. She smiled at that, baring her teeth in the cold darkness. She felt that he would seek out power to overcome the fear she had brought to the fore inside of him. She wondered if she would see the end result of that. Ruadh, however, her son, had remained in the desert. Near his weakling grandmother, yes, but she had spied on him and seen the mutilated jackrabbits that were his legacy on the desert fauna.
However, reflecting on those two made her wonder what would happen if she were to...try again. Bring more foals into the world, and teach them how to hate, how to kill...all they needed to know. Bringing more darkness into the world.
Still, it was a chill night, and Wyrsa considered shifting into her coyote form to take advantage of its pelt. She might have few remaining positive emotions, but personal comfort held some weight yet. As did personal pleasure...but Tlocatl had disappeared shortly after her encounter with his son and she had not yet tracked him down. Perhaps when the trees began to bud again...
She was thinking hard, reminiscing, but that didn't mean she wasn't aware of her surroundings. Where she paced carefully, silently, through the dark and snow-covered forest, no bats took wing, no small mammals moved. Beyond that sphere of influence the forest creatures made all their normal night noises. Save in one direction. Intrigued, the mare dropped her train of thought to investigate. Most likely it was some Kalona who was utterly unaware that this was her territory. But she didn't let that limit her suspicion. Not at all. Paranoia had been a part of her before she was cursed and it served her well now.
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Posted: Sat Jan 30, 2010 4:48 pm
Working his pace up to a trot, the black wraith meandered through the unknown territory - the white wash ground almost dulling around him as his large paws hit the ground hard, footfalls growing in dark black pools of inky liquid, that seeped on him, albeit less than normally.
North couldn't handle the coldest days of the winter. It made him feel sluggish and uncomfortable - and it made the miserable creatures he had joined even more miserable. Where was the emotion? It made the skinwalker cringe.
A new sound - the sound of shuffling from somewhere in his blind side broke his deep concentration, and set the ardent on his guard, giving a giant leap and landing a little further than he was - accompanied by a large, but muted set of thumps as his paws hit the snow - lowering his head to watch the territory with his remaining glowing eye.
"Who's out there! Show your face or I'll find it and rip it off you." He called out, jaws dripping of shadow, over his sharp teeth and down the side of his face, staining the snow around him in a strange black colour.
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Posted: Sat Jan 30, 2010 5:14 pm
Yellow eyes narrowed as the growing sounds culminated in actual words. Another loud one it seemed. Probably another brash Kalona, she supposed.
She finally came close enough to see the intruder, seeing no need to hurry her pace for some damn fool, and had to revise her estimations. The scaled skinwalker stopped when she was just close enough that both black-pelted Soquili could be distinguished from the darkness surrounding them by the other.
It was a stallion she faced, of course. Wyrsa had begun to wonder if there even were such things as other skinwalker mares, having never encountered or heard of one. He was short, unusual for a male and a bit intriguing. The hints of red and a glowing teal were distinctly unusual - as well as a disadvantage for concealing himself. His pelt was...unusual. She'd never seen one quite like it and wondered what sort of creature he was in his other form.
Reminded, she glanced down at his feet. Paws. Great. Another overbearing "more evil than though" pure skinwalker. The mare hissed with distaste, though she kept her guard up and her gaze on the stranger. Just because she had hooves and a life before the darkness didn't mean that she was second -rate!
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Posted: Sat Jan 30, 2010 5:37 pm
Long tail flashed once or twice behind him as he waited with baited breath, his frame soaking in whatever light that hung around him, save the unearthly glow of his remaining eye, his elongated ears pinned back, but always alert.
It was like this way for a minute or two, before a pair of bright eyes made contact with him, a dark skinwalker such as himself. Lifting his head slowly, the jackal kept his disposition, knowing his kind well. This would go either way, fight, flight, or - the unnatural ending, a conversation.
She was a larger female, though, and it made him uncomfortable knowing he would be seeing her eye to eye. But the hooves he glanced down to were peculiar. He had never met one who were unfortunate enough to become cursed, but he had heard whispers as a youth.
Another long, pregnant pause lasted between them, before he brought himself up to his tallest position, he kept her in his vision. "What brings you here, on this bitter terrible night, my dear?" He called out, his voice traveling over the dull forestland, long ears raising high, hoping to receive an answer. Could this just be a figment of his imagination? He couldn't go much further without some kind of contact.
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Posted: Sat Jan 30, 2010 5:47 pm
She watched him watch her, saw him draw himself up in order to appear taller - truly unsurprising, given the small difference between their heights. But there was something in that eye, that strange, glowing, singular eye that she didn't understand.
It was strange. She didn't get the feeling that he wanted to menace or threaten her. That could change, of course, in a split second, but for now...it seemed true.
He had asked her a question. The yellow eyes narrowed again. What gave him the right (overlooking, of course, the fact that she almost never broke the silence first, usually forcing the other to ask a question) to enter her territory and question her? This was her place, not his! Still, she supposed it would be easier to take his measure if she responded.
"What brings you into my territory?" A question for a question, spoken softly in a low voice. She offered him little with such a response, she knew, but she would not allow him to bring her down. This was her place of power and she couldn't imagine another skinwalker here for any reason but to try and wrest it away from her.
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Posted: Sat Jan 30, 2010 6:09 pm
"How was I to know this was a marked territory?" He queried, her response. Two could play at this game, but North tired of give and take. Breaking the strained glances they shot at each other, and opening him up for vulnerability, he looked around the deep forest area, his head craning far and his legs kicking up so he can move around a little to get a better view, his tail swept over the shadows stained snow - the black marks disappearing after a few minutes.
As he made the last steps in his visual dance, he looked back to the accursed mare, his tail swinging over the cold snow once more, red mane hair dripping just like his shadows, darning the black pools with bright red scars. "I'm not good with territorial rights, forgive me. I am just a mere wanderer, and this night was better when I was walking." he answered, truthfully, the dryness never dropping from his voice. "I shall be gone by morning's light."
He knew territorial rules. Whether he obeyed them, was always a question. If he knew he could survive taking a territory up from the maw of another soquili, he wouldn't back down if it was a necessity, but she seemed more interested than anything - whether or not she showed it.
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Posted: Sat Jan 30, 2010 7:08 pm
Wyrsa blinked in surprise as the stranger began to move around, viewing the surrounding area in some sort of strange dance. She was also surprised to see the black that...dripped and brushed off of him onto the snow before fading. It wasn't something she'd ever seen before. Not on a skinwalker, not on a soquili. Whatever caused it, it was a part of him on a more personal and individual level.
A wanderer, he claimed to be. And of course things would have been better when he was walking - he hadn't known she was there then! Still, nothing he'd done screamed threat in any form, so it was possible she could give him the benefit of the doubt. Or at least as close to it as a paranoid mare could come.
"Marking territory like a dog is not nearly subtle enough," she sniffed in disdain. Nevermind that Tloc called her a "rabid dog" when he was trying to be cruel and push her away. This stallion was utterly unlike the Kalona, she was convinced.
"I will hold you to that promise," was her simple reply to his expanding on his initial response. Her voice held the edge of a threat, but her posture, while cautious, was not yet aggressive.
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