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 Posted: Thu Oct 22, 2009 8:48 pm
 The biting cold in the morning, leaving frost strewn across whole fields and hills, breath visible and trees bare were the most prominent signs of the coming winter. Even inside what she had taken once more as her 'home', her den, she could feel it in her bones. A low-toned growled emanated from the literal hole in the ground as the carcass-coloured female crawled from it like a corpse from the grave. Grey paws felt an almost shocking response as they moved from body-heated dirt to the wet, cold grass yet it was just one problem in the world that caused the characteristic scowl across her maw.
Every morning she awoke in the same manner, and every morning Necrala questioned her being here. She was mad, now certain of it. She'd tied herself down to a beast that clung like a pup to her when she allowed it, and after a while, though she didn't admit, she had grown used to the company. Though at first she had rejected all the meals of rabbit or vole he'd brought, claiming she didn't need any of his 'damned help', the wolf possibly found herself, appreciating it? She was going soft, and she struggled with the notion of it.
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Posted: Thu Nov 05, 2009 11:22 pm
 She quickly saw her breath appear and evaporate into the air before her as she leapt through the brush and about trees. Most careful she was about moving around the piles of leaves that littered the ground all around her. The trees had dropped all of their leaves, creating nothing but countless obstacles for the female to skitter about. Her heart pounded fearfully against her ribs it seemed, and every beat with audible to her. If she was going to do this, she preferred it to be quiet instead of bumbling and clumsy.
Of course, she was getting her hopes up just going over here, now wasn't she? She'd overheard a tip that Alas had said, and though it filled her heart with dread it also carried hope. The sort of hope, she supposed, likened to that which rabbits have when traveling in the dark through packlands. As in, very slim. Her red-dipped tail was like a long, plumed paint brush, ready to strike across canvas in a brilliant crimson to paint the world. It was her pride to keep it and herself clean and respectable, another reason why the leaves bothered her so. The ability to cling to her fur was quite difficult sometimes.
Mastilan slowed as she reached the edge of the forest, tip-toeing on cold feet[the same as she felt] to look out through the trees into the meadow beyond. For a moment her breath caught in her throat, sucking in a surprise of brisk air. Mastilan hadn't been here since she was a pup and weaned, herded away with Mahli and Moranna[bless her soul] to the Akiiki Chibale packlands.
"Necrala?" She called out warily, her voice faltering despite it's sufficient volume.
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Posted: Thu Nov 05, 2009 11:48 pm
Before the female had even come close to uttering her name, she knew that she was there. There was hardly anything in her meadow that she was unaware of, unwanted guests included in that. Even if it's your own daughter? Her flickered back as she heard Musketeer's disgustingly pleased voice in her mind, shaking her ruff with clenched jaw as if to rid herself of it. Whatever she had admit to him did not extend to them.
"I'm not deaf." She growled, turning to face the bewildered looking young female standing a the treeline. What did she want? That damned wolf would've known better than to send her here, more than that simply to tell anyone that she was still about. Necrala would not do to have visitors, especially those that just visibly screamed of past mistakes. She gave the female a hard glare, looking her over.
"What do you want?"
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Posted: Fri Nov 06, 2009 12:34 am
Even more starting than her own words breaking the early morning silence was the figure that appeared before her, and promptly chewed her out. Blindsided at once by her anger[after quickly realizing that she indeed was there], Mastilan dropped her head passively, ears pulled back against her head to give a more compliant posture. The values of the pack were still strong with her, and with the old crone who just happened to be related to her out here, she figured they would still apply. Don't talk back to your elders and parents, respect their place in the pack. The rules were like a mantra to live by, and it only occurred after a moment how foolish it was to extend the courtesy to one who had never[and refused to] live by those rules.
Quickly the female straightened up, though her posture was held stiffly as she regarded Necrala. With no one else to be compared to in the pack, she was obviously her father's daughter. But out here, other than height and body shape, it was easy to see where the grey-blue wolf had gotten most of her colours from. In some lights wolves found Mastilan's pelt silver-grey, the spitting image of her father's. Yet she knew also that at some times it shone a strange blue green, the colour of dead flesh. The same pelt she saw Necrala had. No doubt her sporty markings came from Musketeer's side, however.
Swallowing, the female forgot what she was supposed to be here to say.
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Posted: Sun Nov 08, 2009 11:00 am
The female watched the other's stupid gawking with little patience. For a moment she gave the warning flash of her teeth, before climbing up from her den closer to the edge of the trees. Not close enough to make contact, of course. She's been able to keep away for too long to allow this slack-jawed whelp within 30 feet of her.
"So you are as daft as you look."
Necrala growled, looking for a response still. Her tail flickered unsettlingly behind her. As much as she would like to leave, it would take a stronger wolf than her to get her to leave her meadow with an intruder afoot.
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Posted: Sun Nov 08, 2009 11:12 am
Looking away for a moment, the female gathered her wits. She ignored the comment with an unamused look, a skill she'd tried to take to heart during childhood. Necrala wasn't well in the head. That's what she had been told. She couldn't help herself. She seemed fine, except for lacking any sort of compassion, a pre-requisite for being actually alive. And by the colour of her coat it was easy to see how some people[her mother included, she was sure] could mistake her for otherwise.
If she had been in better mind and feelings at the time, she would've snorted. That insult was awfully ironic.
Swallowing, Mastilan looked over the defensive female, but refused to back down. "Why are you here?" She called out, voice cold. She wasn't worth courtesy, she didn't owe her anything.
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Posted: Wed Dec 23, 2009 10:23 pm
"Cheeky little thing, aren't you? Treat your elder with some respect." Necrala said, her jaws snapping quickly in warning to the younger female. In her own mind she hadn't an idea why she was drawing out this visit, goading on her 'more civilized' daughter. Maybe she enjoyed messing with her head, making her aggravated. Perhaps, the thought was like a sucker punch, she wanted to see her snap, to see how much Mastilan really was like her mother.
"My affairs are none of your concern." She grumbled, her head and tail lifted straight in an air of dominance that she saw made the other wolf flinch. She should've figured, Necrala realized with a snort. All that pack life was involved sucking up and dropping tail to anyone and everyone.
"Pitiful."
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