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 Posted: Thu Apr 08, 2010 2:37 pm
A wee mini-log of Quin's self-rps. WIP - little bits of story all in one place. Silence
Silence was the overwhelming feeling one got around the shrine. Shining spring-blue light made its way through to the clearing, dappling its way through the intertwined tree and creating soft shimmering patterns on Quin's already patchy coat.
The place had drawn him, since he came back, and after greeting the others, he had sought out the peaceful glade to make an offering. A glossy, large black feather - no doubt from a winter moulting - which symbolised the very thing he'd been dreaming about all this time. A dark bird, a crow, a fleeting, floating shape. He wasn't sure what it was supposed to signify, but its prevalence in his dreams gave him the thought that it represented something.
He sat down, letting his mind wander.
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Posted: Thu Apr 08, 2010 2:38 pm
The Journey
Quin had been given too much time on his journey, too much time to think, to ponder, to go over what the hell had gone wrong in his life. He had drifted in on the tide and let life carry him, really, he thought miserably. No, not entirely true - he had needed to work hard to overcome the difficulties imposed on him - learn a new language, learn how to fend for himself. The Outriders had given him a place to be, had mentored him, but he was always on the fringes, unable to really feel at home. There had always been... something else. Ever since that first time when words slithered into his mind without taking the time to travel through the air, his mind had felt restless, seeking.
He had left, then, seeking... whatever it was. Walking, tired, he had stumbled into territory where he was not wanted and the injuries of which had nearly killed him. They had also led him to Kalain. Another unusual one, another odd set of circumstances. He had been 'washed up' on the step of the mountains, another odd shore.
That had only been the latest journey. The first one had been that which had grabbed him away from a loving family, a home and, for all he knew a life of contentment - free from existential angst. He remembered it only in flashes, sometimes dreams. Falling. He didn't remember slipping or where he had fallen from, only the sensation and then the sudden cold, his mouth filling with water as his small paws paddled at the choppy ocean water, trying to keep afloat. Eventually, there had been a log... or perhaps part of a broken tree, washed out to sea and riddled with pockmarks from salt and sea creatures. He had held on, clinging dearly to life, panic overcoming weariness. then there had been a beach, a warm snout, someone who pulled him back from the brink. So young was he, and so frightened, but she had taken care of him and her words had seeped into his mind. Always there was someone to rescue him - first Amelie, then Kalain.
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Posted: Thu Apr 08, 2010 2:39 pm
Kalain
Ah... Kalain. Such hurt inside him, when he thought of that name, but such tenderness. The slight male had confused him at first - brought feelings to his heart which he had thought locked away. Feelings which made him uneasy. At first he'd thought... maybe... but, no, Kalain had a mate, had pups - even if Mu'sha and he acted more like they disliked each other at times, the pair had an undercurrent of strong feeling which could be sensed when both were close to each other. No, those feelings would have to be buried away... Maybe he should let himself be party to Saturne's affections - she obviously liked him, and catered to his every need - whether he wanted it or not - and he was, oh gods he was, lonely.
Gods. When had he started to believe? When had he tripped from 'outsider interest in odd customs' to, well, integrated? The shrine, he thought. Definitely the shrine. Kalain had taken him there and simply let him stand and look. It had been enough - there was something there, something other, something spiritual which tugged at his soul. Maybe he was just hungry for meaning in his life, who knew? Either way, it had strengthened him and, with Kalain's tuition, had begun to learn the more intricate details and nuances of the Aves' beliefs, their rituals - an education which was continuing now that he was back.
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Posted: Sat Apr 10, 2010 8:38 am
The Dreams
One such lesson had been about personal spirits - Kalain said that all Aves usually had one by their adolescence and that most rites performed required one by way of protection - allowing intercession with the other via that companion and not allowing their own soul to be tugged away. Quin had instantly worried that this would be a barrier to his learning, but Kalain had asked him to think on any dreams, portents, unusual incidents with a slight glint to his eye which suggested he was guiding the younger wolf towards a forgone conclusion than leading him to an unknown.
He was surprised, then, when the shaman had been startled at the dreams he described. Dreams of the world from above, such as no wolf would ever see it, dreams of flight and soaring freely, unfettered. Dreams, sometimes, of dark carnage into which he stuck a glistening black beak. "Crow wolf" Kalain had said, slowly, managing to look delighted and unsettled at the same time. "Sati called you that the first time she met you". Appraising, a cool look, had come over Kalain's features and, for the first time since meeting him, Quin had felt a little uneasy in his presence - he exuded power, a sort of slightly repellent magnetism, which pricked at Quin's hackles. Kalain's abilities had always been wrapped up within the Aves mysticism, but at that moment Quin could, for a flash, see them clearly. For a moment, just a split second, he was sure the shaman's eyes had been slitted, his face more serpentine than wolf - but he had no idea whether he himself had projected that thought or whether Kalain had put forth an image himself. It was then that Kalain told him of a place where he might seek answers when he was ready.
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Posted: Sat May 08, 2010 5:07 pm
Recurring
At first he had felt unworthy, confused, torn, stupid. His life had been a series of random events strung together to lead him to the one place where he might seek answers. He had gone, hoping to come away with it and, thoug hhe had gained some peace, he had come back with more answers than he had gone with.
What was it he wanted? What within himself was preventing him from moving forward and feeling confident in himself? Why did he never feel worthy of the care and kindness that others had given him? What was it he felt he should give them and how could he go about it?
He shied away from introspection - he saw too much in himself which he was scared to address but that was exactly what he had to do. How could he be of use to anyone if he didn't do that. What use could he be to others? He certainly didn't feel useful - he felt as though he'd done barely enough to pay for the kindness and love shown to him by the Aves. It was safer to worry about that, though, than pry further into his own foibles.
His sleep was still troubled with dreams, even now, and every night he fell asleep thinking about his failures, his wishes to do better, his lack of surety - which is to say almost every one - he had the same dream.
Again he flew, again he soared, and at first it was wonderful, the beautiful freedom, the lack of care, the sheer vibrancy of it. Eventually, though, he would begin to feel as though weight had been added to his wings. His soaring became haphazard and he was pulled side to side uncontrollably. It felt horrid, sickening and sometimes he woke up shivering with the stomach-lurching falling sensation as he felt his wings stop supporting him and he dropped to the ground...
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