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 Posted: Wed Mar 10, 2010 8:20 pm
...without having to believe there are fairies at the bottom of it, too.
The snow melted and the roses grew and with them, so too did the pack. Cyclops no longer doubted Fanta's assertion that he could do this thing. The lanky adolescent Cyke had met on a hilltop one night was now nearly an adult.
Cyclops also no longer doubted that he would be staying around. He enjoyed the congenial nature of the pack, and the lands were large enough that he didn't feel crowded by too many wolves. Right now, he was toward the center of the lands. This pack was unique in that many of its inhabitants spent most of their times on the borders, near the foliage borders. Cyclops never felt far from them, though. With his extra-sensitive nose he could smell the sweet-and-sappy plants anywhere in the territory. Being too close could sometimes become overwhelming.
He was eating an old hare that had lived a life long enough to become slow. His big, blue body stretched out on the grass, he held the corpse between his front paws and pulled off the stringy muscles mouthful by mouthful. Even here, he could not escape the flowers -- apparently some of the rose's seeds had scattered with the autumn wind and now, coming to life after winter, were sprouting here, far from their parent's home.
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Posted: Wed Mar 10, 2010 8:52 pm
The light-furred female had spent her winter brushing piles of snow off of resting plants to keep them from being buried or smothered, using her long tail as a brush to do so. Still she was rewarded with a chill on her backside, but at least it had a good cause. Other than that she'd spent her free time holing up in a den, sleeping the winter away. It certainly had allowed her build up her enjoy.
In the fair weather the female had begun to make her own walks around the territory, inspecting and smelling the flowers and just generally stretching her long, slim legs after such a period of disuse. For a minute or so her face would lose it's perpetual grin to be replaced with something nostalgic. Her brothers used to love the snow, so did she! They would wrestle and tumble and rough-house, always safe within the fluff. And then hours later, all wet and shaking they'd be ushered back inside the den where they would be dried off and fall asleep. Spring brought even more fun, the scents they'd chase of new fawns and squirrels in the wood! But, shaking herself as if free from the memory, it passed. "Passed like a hopeless fancy....Lost on an April day." She called to herself, sing-song among the trees.
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Posted: Wed Mar 24, 2010 12:07 pm
Cyclops' ears pricked up as he heard a voice. It was a familiar voice, and his muscles didn't even bother to tense up. Recognizing it as Xanthe, a smile started to grow on his face, bloodstained as it was. He found it ironic, that the persistent daydreamer would notice him after he, the blind fool, noticed her.
"Are those fairies I hear?" he called to the woods, the query rumbling from his broad chest. Maybe if Xanthe didn't look so hard for her mythical creatures, she'd find the delicate things hiding in plain site.
He was sure his talkative packmate would at least come to see who was asking, perhaps charging in looking around for a unicorn. Being the gentleman that he was, he carefully tore off a hind leg from his kill and set it aside, in case she should wish to share. There was no lack of prey in spring, and it was right for a pack to share amongst itself.
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Posted: Wed Mar 24, 2010 12:57 pm
Her face was twisted in a slight pout, small feet still padding around the imposing hedges. Since the time she'd been inducted into the pack they'd grown upwards and outwards. Sometimes she likened them to the protecting walls of a cave or womb, strong and safety-bringing. But their comforting fortitude was not the reason for her unhappy expression.
She'd forgotten the words to her song.
Even humming it would be no substitute, as it would only bother her more she didn't know how the rest of it went. But luckily she didn't have to dwell on that unpleasant thought too long. "Cyclops?" Her tail cut air as it wagged, and she started over on new-sprung grass towards where she'd heard him.
"If it were fairies then there'd be me not too far behind. But you just have me, so it's doubtful they'll follow vise-versa." Xanthe grinned as she moved about a tree trunk and looked upon him. He was certainly a hard wolf to miss, by size if not his bright blue coat. "I commend you on your attentiveness, however." She laughed happily, even though she knew full well that fairies sounded nothing like that. She was pleased that she had managed to find him again(or him her). Even though they were in the same pack he seemed to keep to himself, and through the winter she had been shut in. It was good to see him.
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Posted: Thu Mar 25, 2010 9:32 pm
Unable to see her smile, he heard it in her voice nonetheless. He was pleased in his own ability to make her happy. Even if she was a little silly, he enjoyed being around his lighter-hearted packmate. Her good nature was catching.
"I had a good teacher," he replied as she laughed. In his mind's eye, the sound was like golden butterflies. It was rare that he longed for his sight anymore, but he did miss being able to see those he spoke to.
"Have a seat." It was a request prompted not only by his innate politeness by but the fact he didn't want to rise to his feet just then. "You can have some hare, if you like... it's not the best, I'm afraid." Food was food, to him, but he knew some wolves preferred their meat to taste good as well as fill their bellies.
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Posted: Thu Mar 25, 2010 9:55 pm
Her smile was toothy, and with a nod she padded over to him. Of course he would've heard the sound of her approaching, but realized the nod was lost on him. "Thank you, good sir~" She cooed happily, turning about in a circle before laying down. Both front paws were stretched out on the grass in front of her, but her hips and back legs twisted out to one side, as though she were laying sprawled.
Xanthe wasn't one to be impolite in the face of an invitation, or a meal for that matter. She herself hadn't eaten all morning, for one no prey had hopped or waddled or flew across her path and another she had been too preoccupied with spring. "It lived a good life." The female noted with a tilted head as she picked out the leg had set near her. In satisfaction of her growling stomach she thrummed her tail lightly against the ground.
"It had too, hadn't it? It's beautiful here. And rabbits nibble rose bushes, so it would have had plenty to eat, certainly." She remarked between chews. It was a habit that some found slightly disturbing, that she seemed to 'justify' what she ate. The female was just too curious about everything, food stuffs included. 'The best' was something to keep her going. Though it would be a lie to say she didn't favour sweet meats, what good was it to speak ill of something that gave its life to nourish you?
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Posted: Sun Mar 28, 2010 9:23 pm
Cyclops had never really... thought about what kind of life his food had lived. Certainly, he did try not to eat the forest animals whose mental acuity matched that of Telk wolves, especially if they had an affinity with one of his own kind. There were a few like that -- some called them familiars. As for the rest of them, well, they were just stupid animals, right? Capable of some fleeting appreciation for food in their bellies and a protective den, he supposed, but much more than that...? Could a hare even appreciate the beauty of where it lived?
Then again, he thought ruefully, you can't either, can you.
He didn't express any of those feelings to Xanthe, instead giving a noncommittal mumble as he finished his own meal. There were still some scraps of tendon and skin holding the skeleton together, but he was sated, and the rest could be left for the scavenging birds. He licked the blood off his face and set about grooming his forepaws as best he could.
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Posted: Wed Apr 07, 2010 11:05 pm
Had she been anything other than in full swoon of the fresh season's ambiance she would have poked and prodded Cyclops about what he thought about it. But she was enamored, and as she finished her small -but heartily appreciated- meal, she rolled onto her back. Small grass shoots tickled her ears and ruffled against her belly as looked about, daintily tucking her forepaws into her chest.
"The plants are growing again. The wall?" She lay the side of her head against the ground so her nose face him, the statement not so much as a question of its reality as whether he knew what she was talking about.
"Well I thought it was going to freeze right up, but no! It's grown! And the flowers? Mmmm." Her grin widened as she made a happy sigh, still watching him. Sometimes she wondered whether his eyes were open underneath, just as a passing thought. Like if underneath there were eyes, though unseeing in the darkness of their lids, or just nothing. Her ear flicked softly as she wondered.
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Posted: Fri Apr 09, 2010 11:32 pm
"Mmm..." he responded in kind, but unlike her appreciatory tone, his was simply a polite I'm listening. He was quite sure that other participants were completely unnecessary for Xanthe to have a conversation. "Yes, it seems the alphas knew what they were doing when they planted it." He didn't mean to be biting, even if it came off that way.
"Roses are hearty," he continued. He finished with his cleaning and rested his head on his forepaws lazily. "Everyone only thinks about them being beautiful, and assumes that means they're delicate, but they're not, really. The blossoms, maybe, but the plant only cares that the blossom turns into a seed... it doesn't know it's beautiful." Roses didn't appreciate their own form; they simply got lucky, providing enough beauty and spiky protection to the world that an entire pack of wolves would create a hierarchy to protect and honor them.
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Posted: Sun Aug 15, 2010 2:33 pm
She rolled over onto her side, watching him as he spoke. Her tail kept a steady pace as it flicked back and forth, rustling the small grass and dandelion shoots in rhythm. For a moment it stilled.
"I wonder what they'd be like if they knew they were beautiful..." She breathed, looking at her friend. Her eyes ticked from the hedge and back. "Maybe they wouldn't have thorns. I mean, then they wouldn't be so spiny and sharp, catching in your fur. Others wouldn't try to hurt them, they'd know, they just want to appreciate them...."
Shaking her head, Xanthe dismissed the thought with a yawn. "But then that'd be trouble for us, huh? As impenetrable a wall full grown, the thorns are still quite a discouragement." She laughed, and her tail went swishing in contentment once more.
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Posted: Sun Aug 15, 2010 11:33 pm
Cyclops exhaled, not quite a sigh. He wasn't used to this sort of philosophical discussion. His gut reaction was to say, but that isn't how things are. There's no point in wondering how things would be. You need to deal with how they are. But they were speaking merely of the roses, not anything important. Nothing that would truly matter, if things were different.
His attitude still left him at a disadvantage in the discussion, even if he agreed to participate. He didn't have quite the imagination to see what Xanthe did. "I suppose," he said cautiously. "Or maybe they would guard themselves all the more jealously. That which is most precious must always be guarded." He was cynical even about flowers, permanently seeing the worst of options.
"You're right, of course," he added, glad that she had come to his default conclusion. "It can only be the way it is."
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Posted: Mon Nov 01, 2010 11:27 pm
"Mhmmmm."
Xanthe sighed dreamily, content to sit and watch the trees and woods without any more thought to the discussion at hand. At least for a while. Living in The Order, roses were on hand and mind nigh all the time. The alphas had them on their pelts for goodness sake! Love was cultivated by the growth of a rosebush (secretly she hoped she would receive a rose herself). It sheltered and protected them against the outside and filled their noses once they bloomed.
A fleeting thought gave her cause to frown for a moment. Even if the entire wall was not grown, they were beautiful, but Cyclops couldn't see them. Her friend couldn't watch the roses bloom like she could and had. Xanthe didn't know when he had lost his sight specifically, or if he'd even ever seen one before. Her tail lost its momentum and lay flat on the ground for a minute as she looked at him.
"Have you ever seen the roses, Cyclops?" She asked innocently sounding enough, though the undertone was scrutinizing. Her head cocked as she watched him.
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