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 Posted: Thu Jun 09, 2011 8:00 pm
 The young femme laid out in a small patch of sun that poked through the canopy overhead. Lilac ears twitched to the sweet birdsong and she could hear the little brook trickling a quiet lullaby that bade her pale eyes heavy in the warm day. Though her pack lived much to the north of many of the larger packs it still warmed up decently in the mountains.
Ithil forced herself to sit up and yawned, letting her tongue loll from her maw, her great white teeth shining, though not quite as white as the main of her pelt. She lifted her rump into the air and stretched out her legs flexing her paws in the soft ground and shook herself and she righted herself up; lifting up a small cloud of dust that had settled into her fur. Black tipped tail raised up slightly as she followed the sound of the water to satiate the dryness of her throat. She lavished the warmth of the day, but with the thickness of her pelt made summers difficult, she was better suited for winter like many of the northern wolves.
At the stream she lapped up the cool water, letting it soothe her throat and relaxing her body and cooling her down. She sat at the waters edge and looked down into it, almost wishing she could see into it like she heard the seers could sometimes do. Wondering what it would be like to have such a gift, almost like her father and his ability to heal others, bring a new sense of life into them. She admire no one more than she did her father. But today was of her own, her minds personal wanderings.
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Posted: Fri Jun 10, 2011 9:59 pm
 He was currently purposeless. The worst state of existence Twiddle had ever experienced in his pawful of months of sapience.
Before Ignis, there was traveling. Before traveling there was nothing, and thus no worry for a need to do something. In Ignis, he cleaned and changed bedding, and whatever other menial tasks were asked of him. Without Ignis . . . he was purposeless.
True, Twiddle had taken back traveling again, but it had not taken long before he realized he had no place to go. Nothing to do. Well, besides walking.
So he walked. And walked. And walked. His paws throbbed by each day's end, begging for him to stop, but Twiddle didn't want to stop. Nothing waited for him if he did. He had stumbled across his first purpose by traveling; and he was certain he would find a second purpose by doing the same.
Really, he didn't know when he had found a river. Like a bug to a bright light he had simply been drawn in by the sound and followed opposite to its course, further into the mountains . . .
His paws were scraped to hell now, and began to bleed.
And yet he still kept walking, his head bobbing low.
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Posted: Sat Jun 11, 2011 9:07 am
Ithil's mind drifted over a number of odd things, from the how water flowed so beautifully, to how the sun show rainbows on the bottom through the water, to the little minnows that darted around her paws as she sat there letting the flow of the water through her fur sooth her mind and body from the heat of the day. Her delicate white fur bristled with a small breeze that drifted past, sending a slight chill up her spine with the air that had come down from the still snow tipped mountains, keeping her home from getting as hot as the lands further south.
Pale eyes lifted up and looked out hazily through the trees an greenery. It was hard to see, but there was movement, though at first it escaped Ithil's notice there was something odd about the brown shape that blended in so well amongst the trees. Shaking her head a little, lilac ears perked forward and blinking several times to clear her vision from the foggy haze of the heat. And sure enough before her in the distance she could just make out another wolf, one who look weary and tiresome.
She wanted to get up and bolt, it could be a strange wolf that could hurt her, she was no fighter; she couldn't even hunt very well for that matter! She lifted a paw out of the water, she knew among her surroundings she stuck out like a single pale flower in an expanse of brown and green. It would be amazing if the other had not already noticed her, so unless she could outrun the other she had little chance.
But the more she sat there, ready to bolt if need be, the more and more she felt that this other meant her no harm. He seemed tired, worn to the soul and ready to collapse at any moment. She called up her little voice, choking on it at first but forced it up and out in a call.
"Hello there stranger. What business have you with the Aves Pack?"
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Posted: Sat Jun 11, 2011 7:33 pm
Walking . . . walking . . .
Bleeding. Bleeding. Bleeding. He looked down for a moment and raised a paw.
Yup. Still bleeding. Nothing terrible yet, but the sting of dirt in the open cuts continued to run up his legs in spasms of pain.
Hmm . . . could a wolf bleed out without attending to such things? He was tempted to find out. At least that was a purpose: experimenting.
Thankfully he was distracted from that option by a soft voice nearby, though he did not process her words all the way - it was a delayed response between getting back to the real world and actually listening for words.
There was . . . a "hello" in there. And a pack name, but he missed it. Twiddle blinked.
"Repeat your words. I was lost within myself."
And then he had to blink again. His voice sounded disused, rusty. Was he truly so tired?
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