Welcome to Gaia! ::

((-pokes dead thread-))

(( *is waiting for russtiie* xD))

((*poinks lil* ))

Jade shook off the snow, pushed backwards into the ground and thrusted forward, chasing after Tobias.

Looking all around, Tobias was nowhere In sight. Jade grinned and headed towards a small cluster of rocks, pressuming Tobias was hiding nearby. Come out come out wherever you are! ... GOTCHA! Jade pounced behind the rocks, thumping into the ground. Feeling rather foolish Jade quickly dashed off from the embaressing moment, and continued in search of Tobias.

A slight ruffling came from within the forest. Jade crouched down low, and proceeded extremely cautiously, not wanting to create the smallest sound. Squinting into the distance, she could see the figure of a wolf staggering behind a large Oak tree. Still low to the ground Jade hurried along, filling with excitement she briefly paused. On the other side of the tree was Tobias, and she wanted to get him back. She counted down in here head. 3... 2... 1... Jade bounced out from behind the tree. GOTCHA!!

POP! Jade's eyes widened and she rushed over to see her grand-father collapsed into the snow. TOBIAS HELP!!! TOBIAS!!! Jade's voice echoed with panic, and her body lost it's strength. Jade's legs began to rapidly shake. TOBIAS!!! Jade cried for help from her hiding friend. Nuzzling into her grand-father, Jade whimpered. Please be ok Pops, please...

((Sorry about the delay SJ redface Been a bit busy..))

((Gah. Someone fill me in? *sweat* *doesn't know what to have Lexi doing*))



Bran, now that the snow storm has passed, is spending part of his time in the work to clean up afterward, rebolstering the leaning wood shed and shoveling a path to it, and cleaning rust off the traps he had to find, and dig out, from the snow for not being able to befind them BEFORE the storm. The winter is an isolating time of year, even with snowshoes, as he has no speedy means of travel to and from the towns, and he's had a fair amount of time to consider, and dislike, Lera's behavior. There's somthing dangerous and alarming about a wolf who can speak in his thoughts, and he has NO intention at all of being caught off guard again.
He draws back the bowstring, eyeing his target, this time a hay bale across the field, and lets fly, sinking an bolt into the straw in the center of a painted target. The practice bolts have no tips, simply because of their nature, but he has enough arrow heads to make them into true weapons in a pinch. His lack of one eye makes it harder to strike a target acurately, but it's made him work all the harder to get good at it. He has no intent to miss any target he's called to fire upon, and great confidence that he'll sucseed when he does.
"Even if it means a wolf pelt on the door." He growls quietly to himself. He has no idea how the other wolves would react if the witch-wolf died, or if it would simply make them act more like normal wolves...but it's a posibility he feels the need to keep in mind, rather than EVER consider himself omega.
"You coward." he adds, chiding himself.

Bran jerks the bow up at the last minute as the pup comes hobbling from the bushes, sending the practice bolt sailing off into the treetops, hopelessly lost.
"Littlebit?" He starts forward, surprised, seeing the blood on the brownish pups fur. "What the devil happened?" He pushes forward through the snow, slinging the bow over his shoulder as he moves to investigate without thought to what other wolves might be in the area. If there was a grown wolf here to help her, surely she'd have gone to it...."Come here Littlebit..." He reaches carefuly to lift her out of the snow, trying to keep from hurting her further, so he can examine the extent of her injuries.

Bran pulls the pup close, after giving her a cursory examination to see what happened. "Well something did a number on you. At least it doesn't look like bites though..." He reasures, having no idea whats been said to him. "Why don't we go put somthing on those cuts." He has a few salves himself, to take care of such injuries. It would be difficult...no...pretty much impossible to bandage a wolf, and stitching the gouge on her shoulder would mean having to keep her here until he could take the stitches out again, which he doesn't think would work. "Hopefuly you don't need stitches there kid...Your mother would have a fit..." He speaks in soothing tones, turning to go back to the cabin, which smells faintly of woodsmoke, smoked meat, coffee...the various small things that make it 'home' for Bran instead of just a place, many of which are the scents that faintly cling to Bran's wool and leather coat.