Greetings! This contest is one of many going on in the re-opening event for Shaoilin Woods. Here, we're offering a shaman in the Sunlords pack. The Sunlords are one of five original packs present in the land of Tolas. In this contest, you'll have the opportunity to pick a gender for the shaman and help flesh out their interactions with the Sunlords pack.
Open Ends: Friday, the 15th of August @ 7PM PST (8 MST, 9 CST, 10PM EST, and the 15th @ 3AM GMT)
Posted: Mon Aug 04, 2014 4:45 pm
Before entering, you'll want to read (or review) the Sunlords Pack and the shop's Seer and Shaman Information. These will be crucial in creating a strong entry. In addition, please be sure to follow all shop rules.
Entering itself is easy. Choose a gender for your wolf, fill out the form in post 4, and respond to the prompt that matches the gender you chose. A winner will be chosen from all entries based on their prompt response. You will be judged on readability, creativity, and whether or not you've read the information needed to answer the prompts.
Rules Do not change the format of the entry form You may edit your posts up until the time of the contests' end Forms must be complete by this thread's ending date in order to be considered. Winning does not count towards your 1 seer/shaman a year limit. You may still quest for a seer or shaman this year if you win this wolf. When creating the shaman's personality, please stick generally to the lineset is on. He/she can be naturally nervous/shy/timid/ill at ease (note wolves could be shy around other wolves, but not timid in the face of danger or their job), or you can have their expression be more due to circumstance (i.e. their position has made them stress). Avoid things like an always happy, go-free shaman. However, there's lots of room for creativity and I'd love to see your interpretation! If you have any questions, feel free to ask in this thread or the main thread
Shaoilin Captain
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Shaoilin Captain
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Posted: Mon Aug 04, 2014 4:46 pm
This shaman was colored by Kaelyndra and is on Timid lines.
Prompt if Shaman is Male
A puppy has been born with a stub for a front leg. As shaman, you are responsible for returning it to its parents in the sky. The journey to the cenotes north of the pack will take a few days when all is said and done, even at a brisk pace. It doesn't take a seer to understand what will happen to the pup when its dropped in. The Spiritwalkers pack is perhaps another day's journey northwest. You might also encounter rogue wolves on your journey. Do you hold fast to tradition? Does your strength of mind break and do you give up the puppy to someone? Either way, can you handle the guilt?
Feel free to play as many NPCs as you need to tell your story. Please focus on the shaman and his response, however.
Prompt if Shaman is Female
One of the scouts has come home with an arrow through his shoulder. He's placing no weight on the injured limb. Without healing, if he lives, it is very likely he'll never be able to use the limb again. With healing, the wound may still get infected and mean the loss of the scout. You are the only shaman in the pack. Up until now, you've been extremely secretive about your shaman powers. In fact, only a few of the other huntresses know. You always practice at night, a little bit at a time during hunts. It's well known most males think shaman females are at risk of being manipulated by the Moon. What's more, one of the male wolves you admire (whether this is sexual or platonic is up to you!), is extremely outspoken about females not practicing shamanism. What do you do?
Feel free to play as many NPCs as you need to tell your story. Please focus on the shaman and her response, however.
Name: Make sure the name fits the setting. You can see which languages the Sunlords use and naming conventions in this post Domain: At current time, all domains are available to new world wolves except for ones deemed too powerful by the shop. For a list of unallowed domains, please see here.
Brief Personality: The majority of your wolf's personality should be showcased in your prompt response. Brief History: Just give us an idea of how old your wolf is and any pivotal points in their lives.
Shaoilin Captain
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ShadowFox-Sama
Loyal Dog
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Posted: Tue Aug 05, 2014 8:04 pm
Yup just gonna go ahead and sneak this right on in here~ (I apologize for my inability to briefify anything any further I TRIED)
Character Name: Aarush; An Indian/Sanskrit name meaning 'first ray of sun.' Pronounced 'ah-roosh.' ** This is assuming that the sun ray is an aspect of the sun, not directly relating to the sun itself. Chosen to sound like the Sharanjin language. Gender: Male Domain: Mirages
Brief Personality: Though the length of the day and the strength of its rays may vary, the sun will always rise and can be counted on to always set. It is this caliber of dependability that Aarush has long saught to emulate, greatly admiring and adhering to an ever-constant, never-changing pillar of belief that to be wise and just, one must be both firm and temperate. He never raises his voice, nor does he let his tempers flair; he speaks casually, and with friendly familiarity, but always with a sense of righteousness and coolness that many find hard to resist or relate to. The burden that he has placed on his own shoulders is a heavy one, as he feels that so many rely on his formal training to perform the rituals necessary to keep the sun aloft and the pack balanced, and often he puts special emphasis on how he carries himself to make it very clear that he does not live his life for himself, but rather everyone else. His priorities do not include tending to himself above anyone else, as per his selfless ideals, and often he can look a little… strained. His hearty charisma is startlingly compelling, however, as is usually the case when an individual believes beyond a shadow of a doubt that their words and actions are pure, and he firmly believes that his infallible sense of pride and honour are to be used for the good of the pack, for he must always make an example of himself. He thrives under the pressure and often preaches that a strong work ethic encites the inner fires to grow. After all, how can anyone deny the words of one who works so hard for the sake of others?
Aarush’s greatest weakness, however, is his absolute, consuming hunger to fit that exact image of the perfect wolf that he has created for himself, and his adherence to tradition and religion is as relentless as it is so that he may continue in his pursuit of self-wrought perfection. He needs to feel as though he is the subservient one while simultaneously being heralded as a creature worthy of praise and adoration, a wolf to look up to and emulate the way he does the Sun itself. His is a vain selflessness. He feeds off the positive reinforcement of his packmates and reverberates the old teachings with an intensity that can be frightening at times. He is extremely thorough in every task, every ritual - every punishment. Mercy has no place in his heart, not for anyone, not under any circumstances, and while he does what he must, as all must do, he never acts out of cruelty or pettiness; such motivations are too far below him.
Brief History: One should never aspire to grow up too quickly. Oh, perhaps there is some deeper meaning to this particular saying, something about treasuring youth or some notion like that. Aarush, however, holds to its most literal meaning: small things should not become large things in a short span of time. He was born to parents strong in both mind and body, the only in his litter but otherwise healthy as could be. So many plans were made for the little whelpling. He would be a warrior, like his father - a strong and handsome servant of the Sun, as ferocious as the desert summer but as loyal as a lamb to its ewe. Many prayers were said by his mother during the night to aid in the development of such a fine Sunlord warrior, and perhaps the Moon heard them - perhaps she listened with a mischievous mind, as well, for grow Aarush certainly did. From a rather average-sized pup he seemed to swell over the next few weeks of his life, taking on proportions unnatural for one of his advanced youth. At a month old he was nearly as tall as pups three times his age, a blessing that very quickly turned unfortunate as certain complications arose.
He was growing far too quickly. Longer, leggier, and taller still; he never seemed to stop stretching toward the heavens, outdistancing his peers at a young age and even challenging the height of more than just a few mature adults. Despite his advanced skyward progression, though, he never developed into a very large wolf - he couldn’t eat fast enough to keep up with his own body, and often bore the appearance of a rather malnourished dog swaying upon the legs of a gaunt stork. He was awkward, he was clumsy, and, perhaps worst of all, he suffered a great deal of pain as his wrists, ankles, and knees tended to wobble about in their sockets. Needless to say, he wasn’t very good at sparring. He often heard the term ‘lame’ passed about between whispering wolves with questioning tones whenever he was the topic of conversation. Most of their fears circled around the question of whether or not he was young enough to be taken to the cenotes, though no shaman ever appeared at his den to take him away. A huge part of him wanted to be bitter about his horrible lot in life, but he couldn’t figure out exactly who to blame.
It would have been easy to take his frustration out on his parents, the pack, or even the deities themselves, but that also seemed a particularly lazy choice to him. Instead, he decided to find some other alternative - something special only he could do. Something that would be so amazing and so awe-inspiring that everyone would have to admit that he was not only worthy of his pack, but unquestionably important, too. He turned to the Sun for help, and in response, the Sun taught him something amazing. It was like a vision, the mirage that came to him one day as he was watching the heat waves dancing upon the dunes. His eyes were on the sands as they shifted under the pulsing sun when, very suddenly, the earth and the sky became one great ocean of white and light. He imagined he saw a figure on the expanse - a wolf as large as the desert itself stood before him, eyes like burning flames and outline as shifting as the sands. The vision lasted only a moment but would stay forever in Aarush’s mind as the turning point in his life, as soon afterwords he discovered he could recreate what he saw in the desert that day by feeling the heat waves and bending them however he pleased.
The tides would come to turn for the long-legged youth as his control over warbling desert mirages came to light. Initially he used them as small distractions when sparring with positive results, but as time bore on and he sculpted his abilities further, it was determined that he would be a better Shaman than a Warrior. He did eventually mature past his horrible growing pains, developing a large body to match his long legs, but his fighting skills were still rather poor - something he never cared much to do anything about, honestly. He finally had the respect he desired. Everyone was looking up to him - and not just because he was the taller party.
Prompt Response: “…Aarush?” “Aaruuush…” “Wake up, Aarush! Arou-ou-ouuuu!” He was being shaken, pinched, pushed. A fierce little beast was howling in his ears and climbing all over his back, tugging at his cheek furs and digging uncomfortably small paws in between his shoulder blades. And yet Aaroush was slow to wake, first letting out a groan to end all groans that vibrated down to his very marrow before so much as cracking open one sleep-crusted eye. He was tired, so darned tired, but the loud little creature that now gnawed enthusiastically at his lips was determined, if not downright driven, to steal the first few minutes of sunrise that otherwise could have been spent in slumber. He huffed, and he puffed, and he rolled over in an attempt to dislodge his aggressor for just a heartbeat’s span of slumber more, but too late - he was awake, and though his body would have liked to remain sprawled across the desert sands for just a little longer, his mind was too busy erupting with the day’s plans to allow for a return to peace. “Are you awake yet?” that shrill little voice asked. “I’m awake. The Sun’s already awake. Shouldn’t you be awake, too?” “It is not wise to harass your elders, you know,” Aarush mused soddenly, rolling onto his back and stretching all four legs to the sky. “We are not made of boundless energy like you small ones - are! Ah.” His spine cracked, and it felt like heaven. He could have laid on his back like that for much longer, revelling in the release of built-up tension, but the tenacious little pup was once again in his face, tongue lolling as he whined, “But you’re the one who said that all good Sunlords are alert and ready to greet the day before the sun’s first rays even touch the earth.” Aarush opened his eyes a touch wider, rolling his head to the side to regard the pup with a somewhat bemused rise to his brows. “So I did,” he replied, reaching out with one paw and patting the pup on the tip of his nose. “So I did. You’re right, oh small one, now if you’ll give me a moment…” This was the second morning in a row that he had been awoken thusly, and there was at least one more noisy awakening in his future that he could count on having to endure. Moving through the desert was always best left to the early morning and that time between twilight and when the Moon began her dance through the sky, as any other time in the desert was just too hot. He didn’t harbour any real hard feelings for the puppy, and actually rather liked the busy little thing, but his was not a body that took well to long stints on the open road, especially when his charge was not able to keep up the pace necessary for their journey. He rolled onto his belly and lifted his front half first, curling back his neck and working his deadened leg muscles awake before looking again to the pup, his eyes roving down to those sharp little paws. One, two, three - but no forth, only a stub that waggled uselessly in place of what should have been a stout little foreleg. Unwhole. Unfinished. Part of the pup was missing, and yet he’d be damned if he wasn’t as persistent as a fully-formed puppy twice his age. That lost limb was the reason for their journey, and the reason why Aarush’s jaw ached. He should have been wary of the hyper-vigilant huntress who hadn’t let many see her newest litter. Those with the most to hide had a tendancy to behave the guiltiest, and while most decided it was only right to allow her privacy until the little ones were able to wobble aboveground, others had been rightly suspicious of her nervous, edgy moods. If she had been forthcoming, then Aarush would be carrying a much smaller pup to the cenotes. The smaller ones were hardly that much of a problem to get there and back. There wouldn’t have been time for her to bond with a creature she did not have the right to birthe, either,and she wouldn’t have made quite the scene when told she would have to return him to where he truly belonged. Still, he could see why she had taken a shine to this particular little wastrel. His energy and enthusiasm was hard to ignore, and he was so eager to ask questions about anything and everything - many of which Aarush had never thought to ask before. But Aarush loved talking and teaching and doing his best to appease the hungry little mind, who kept him on his toes despite his own personal deficiency. With his front half awake and his bottom half close to rising, Aarush gave the pup - nameless, as he was beyond the need of a name - a gentle nudge, smoothing down a tuft of wayward fur with his tongue. “Now then. Where were we? Ah, you were chastising me for sleeping in. Yes. So, little one, are you prepared for another long day of walking and wandering? Or would you rather stay put while I sniff out something to eat first?” The pup, eyes ablaze with excitement, hopped onto his paws. He was rather agile, though in his haste still rocked forward just a touch. “Catch me something on the way! I want to see my mum and pa, the ones in the sky? So we should hurry, because they’re waiting for me! Is that right? Are they waiting? How long will they wait? Are we going to be late?” Aarush barked out a laugh, giving his long legs one last good stretch and shaking his head. “So many questions! And it’s still so early. We are making good time, no worries, and your true parents will never stop waiting for you. Their love is eternal! But we may pick up the pace a little, if it pleases you. It’s your destiny we are walking toward, after all.”
~
The morning felt cold. Maybe not temperature-wise, but something was off and it did make Aarush shiver a little. The day before must have been taxing for the little pup as, for the first time since leaving the pack, Aarush was the first one to wake; he had to nudge the pup from his sidefurs, where the little thing had buried himself sometime in the night. Movement told him that the pup was awake, but reluctant to move. “Is it my turn to chide you for not being up with the sun?” Aarush asked softly. The pup’s voice was muffled, as he spoke through Aarush’s fur. “Yesterday was really hot. And today is gonna be hot, too, right?” “Yes, undoubtedly. But we are very close now, and should reach our destination by the sun’s zenith.” The pup rolled rather limply to the sand, stretching his legs and frowning. “I wish we were there already. My neck hurts and I’m tired of all the sand in my fur.” “Well, the cenotes are filled with the freshest, cleanest water one could ever imagine; it’ll be a fine place for a wash and a drink on your way to meet your true parents. The water is cool, and the way is down is well-shaded.” “I think it is kind of silly to be going down when I want to be up,” the pup grumbled, climbing to his paws and stumbling a little as he made his way closer to Aarush’s muzzle. “Will you tell me what I have to do again? I don’t think I remember it very well. My down-here mother was shouting an awful lot when you tried to explain it the first time.” With a yawn and a stretch, Aarush straightened up his spine and let his demeanor become firm. “Are you fully awake? Will you listen to me and not grow bored?” “I’m up all the way, I’ll listen. I like to travel with you, but I’m tired now and I’d like to be up there. It doesn’t look so hot up there, especially at night. I’m going to be like the lights in the night sky, right? Those pretty white spots that twinkle?” “Yes, you will be returning to your true form as a small sun, not unlike our Sun Warrior himself - a true Sunlord who hunts with the deities with your true parents and your true pack. Perhaps you will meet others who were born as you were, in the wrong world. Maybe a few will remember old Aarush the shaman, even. I have sent a few others ahead of you.” “And they all took the same path I need to?” “They certainly did. Each went down the cenote and returned safely to where they belong, if I recall. But they were scared, as you will be soon. It is not an easy path.” “You keep saying that, but I promise, I’m brave! I can do it if they could.” You must do as I tell you, and in the exact order I describe. Can you do this?” The pup nodded slowly, solemnly. Aarush smiled. “Good. You have my faith, little one. Now listen well: what I am about to tell you to do will be hard, and it will be frightening, and it will not be comfortable at all. I can promise you that the path will be long and dark, and your body will not like letting go. Do you understand?” Another soft nod. Aarush studied the pup’s face closely, narrowing his eyes, hunting for the slightest flicker of hesitation, but he could find none. “May your bravery in this life follow you into the next! You know what I must do to return you to your rightful place among the suns, yes? You must allow me to drop you into the cenote, and I will say this; the fall is far, and the water is cold. Very cold. But do not fear the cold, for it is your friend - it will cleanse you, so long as you let it in. You must breathe the water so that it can free you from your deformed body and return you to your purest state. Can you do this?” A wrinkle appeared in the pup’s brow, as with a frown he asked, “Breathe? Breathe the water? But I did not think wolves could do that?” “Yes, it is indeed a very strange thing for wolves to do! But it is possible. And necessary. Your body will not like breathing water, and it will feel very unpleasant, but you must fill your lungs until it feels as though they’ll burst. Then, you will be ready to sleep. You must sleep in order to wake up, after all. Your body will become distant and heavy as your soul pulls away, lifting into the sky, and then…” “What? And then what?” Aarush lowered his eyes and smiled. “Then you will be with Them. Your true parents. You will become a small sun in the night sky, and it will be your turn to look after me. I am not allowed to know what comes after the sleep, but it is a beauty beyond anything our dusty land can provide. You will be happy and whole again, and will hunt at the Sun’s side! I envy you, little one, yours is a grand fate.” Grand, yes, but not particularly one Aarush coveted too dearly. And yet the pup was satisfied with Aarush’s instructions, and seemed firm enough in his resolve to see the quest out to the end; such loyalty from one so young was admirable. If only he had been born whole, Aarush could have made a fine acolyte out of him… But that was neither here nor there.
~
“Are you ready?” The little pup shivered, his eyes cast uncertainly over the edge of the cenote. Not wasn’t time for hesitation, however, and with a soft mouth, Aarush took hold of the pup‘s scruff. Immediately, all three good legs began to flail. “W-wait, just for a second!” the pup cried. “Hold on, I - I’m not ready yet!” He let go. The pup rolled to his side, scrambling clumsily from the edge of the cenote. “Take all the time you need,” Aarush murmured, lifting a paw as the pup ducked to hide underneath his belly. “But remember that fear will only keep you trapped as half of who you should be. Take heart, now, I am here.” But the sun was high and the scent of heavy weather was gathering on the wind; the pup must begin his journey in full, holy daylight, or else they would have to wait for another perfect day to send him off. Aarush did not want to be the impatient kind, but neither did he feel it was wise to tarry too long when all that could come of waiting was a greater sense of trepidation. He sighed, glancing down at the little pup - whose eyes could not have been wider, nor more anxious - and with a roll of his shoulders, he set out to feel the sun’s rays. They were indeed strong here, the edge of the cenote being quite high and flat, and it was without great effort Aarush was able to call up the ephemeral lights. For the little pup he created the delicate illusion of a tall figure that stood, tail erect and nose pointed to the sky, just above the cenote’s mouth. The warrior’s warbling silhouette suggested a yearning howl, though no sound could be heard - it was just an illusion, after all, though a pup's imagination could fill in the blanks easily enough. The cenote seemed to vanish, leaving behind only a plane of bright, reflective light, onto which Aarush nudged the shaky little pup. As the pup watched, Aarush maneuvered about enough light to form a second figure somewhat behind the first. Celestial parents, in search of their son; the perfect mirage for one too afraid to take the first step. The pup was entranced. But then again, those who looked upon Aarush’s mirages tended to be thusly attracted to the images they were shown; that was both their nature and their purpose. All Aarush had to do was give him a little nudge, and the pup - no longer trembling - did the rest. “They’ve come for me...” One step, then a hop, then another, tail wagging in earnest. “They’ve come for me! Look, Aarush, they’re here!” And then, he was gone. Aarush waited for the gentle splash, then lowered the illusion. He held his breath, eyes scouting the sky and espying a few low-hanging gray clouds. Then he stood, glanced over the edge, and when he saw the ripples fade on the surface of the clear-as-ice water below, he left.
Posted: Sun Aug 10, 2014 11:34 am
Character Name: He goes by his given name, Anweri (from Arabic Anwer; “very bright”) during formal occasions, but more commonly by a nickname, Jawani (from Arabic Jaunie; a feminine name meaning “cute/pretty”) Gender: Male Domain: Ritual
Brief History: Since puphood, Jawani has enjoyed an almost effortless popularity among his peers and elders. He was a happy, charming child, always making light of strong reactions and, as he got older, fighting spars with an amiable disinterest in winning the bout. He was known as a lazy fighter, but one so naturally winsome that even critiques of his languid sparring wore spoken with an affectionate smile.
Jawani earned his nickname while he and his friends were under the hormonal sway of adolescence (prettiness was at this time a top-billing topic of conversation), and he bore it with such good humor and pleasure that it followed him into adulthood, put aside only for formal occasions and introductions to strangers.
It was midway through his adolescence that Jawani first exhibited a talent for healing, and was brought under the wing of the pack's shaman for appraisal and training. Jawani accepted this development with the good grace of one calmly expectant - to have grown up to take the rank of a warrior would have been a great blow to the wolf's self-image. With guidance from the old shaman, Jawani learned to harness his shamanic power through the enacting of Sunlord rituals, and he began to learn to heal himself and others. Over many seasons, though he became a competent healer, no other powers arose from Jawani's domain; another shaman might speculate that this was in part due to the wolf's lack of drive to develop his powers further.
Jawani occupies the position of shaman as a local politician might, cultivating good relations with every member of the pack, but taking special care to stay involved in the lives of the most influential Sunlords. He enjoys upholding the traditions and rituals that structure daily life, particularly those that do not require placing himself in solitude; greeting the Huntresses at dawn is a responsibility he especially enjoys, although - his status as a handsome bachelor notwithstanding - it has more to do with connection and companionship than leering in any sense. While he is stringent in his belief that Sunlord females must be kept exactly as they are, it does not interfere with his genuine enjoyment of their company.
Brief Personality: Jawani has the easy, charismatic confidence of a wolf who has been popular his entire life and who has landed, so to speak, in one of the best seats in the house. He has in fact become quite a proud wolf, confident in his judgment to the extent that even acts that run contrary to the laws of the Sunlords become justifiable if he is the one committing them.
Jawani's pride creates some blind spots in his judgment; he is certain beyond question that his pack, among however many packs that might roam Tolas, is right, both in custom and religion, and if there is one thing that truly nags at the wolf, it is the knowledge that his magnificent pack is stuck in a lopsided truce with their closest neighbors – one in which the Sunlords' most precious resource, the huntresses who feed the pack and whose careful supervision keeps the very Sun in the sky, is yearly picked over and taken to an ugly, senseless, foreign land, where all manner of social and celestial chaos might reign. He is the most persistent voice of distrust on the subject of the Timekeepers, and privately, he believes that a Sunlord seer could and should be raised and trained in secret, in the hopes that having such a wolf could help tip the scales back in his pack's favor.
Prompt Response The pair had traveled for four days and nights, all told: even without the sightseeing, it was slow work moving through the desert as a three-legged pup and a shaman. There were many stops to rest, to hunt, and to pray. But Jawani had allowed an indulgence: they made a detour to explore the riverbed and the tar pits, and the pocked green plains south and east of the woodlands.
Jawani watched the pup hop about through the tall summer grass, calm and happy from many days of strenuous exercise and undivided attention. They were only a day's walk more away from their destination, maybe two, and the pup was determinedly stout-hearted in the face of his uncertain future. The shaman, who was in turns both playful and wise, had explained that he was headed for a neighboring pack, one in the fertile woodlands north of Sunlord lands, where prey was bountiful and wolves with physical peculiarities were no burden. He would meet several transplants from previous years when they arrived, Anweri continued, and after that said no more, and so the puppy tried to copy his reassuring nonchalance.
It was hard to be nonchalant at the cenotes, however. The pup's balance was poor, and leaning safely forward to peer down into the stony caverns was impossible. He strained, but could not push himself past the animal fear of falling. Noticing his struggle, Anweri came to stand beside the pup, casting him a knowing, kindly glance. “Need help, little moon?”
The pup nodded, and succumbed to a rapture of delight as the shaman's jaws closed tenderly about his nape. Testing the hold, he leaned forward and gasped, one paw trembling at the lip of the cave, in awe of the paradise-blue below.
And tumbled forward.
With learned skill, Jawani stepped immediately back from the ledge. In this way he kept the moment of betrayal brief, a lightning flash of paw pads and tail, then eyes averted upward so that there was no chance of seeing eyes, of letting that fear touch him. A wolf's length away from the cenote, the sound of splashing was muddled by the prairie wind and birds, covered up. In this way, he was a child-killer for only a moment.
He performed the ritual.
“Bright Ones! Your son returns to you. He is a little moon who lost his way, and so the Sunlords send him back to your embrace. May your gifts continue to fall down upon us!”
Jawani shook the earth off of his head. As soon as the last words left his mouth, the feeling had begun: a rush of vitality sweeping up his legs, through his chest, hitting his mind like a breaking wave. The three-legged pup was gone from his thoughts, replaced with the knowledge that he could now run for days without stopping to rest or eat.
--
He would not need to. His path home made a different line than the one tracing up from the Sunlord lands, veering east into the hills along a track delineated clearly by his memory. Wolf-scent greeted him, a blooming desert smell that still made him feel young and full of wonder.
She had almost been a cenote pup, years ago, shortly after the old shaman died. Her eyes were crossed, clouded and useless, but even as a fallen-moon pup she had bewitched him with her preternatural calm, her appraising quiet. He had been sure her eyes were watching from the heavens, and he wandered with her for nearly a week before finding a family of wolves who would take her, teach her to fish the stream like a raccoon, and watch her grow into adulthood. Her name was Najwah, a packless wolf and competent fisher, and she was Jawani's mistress as well as his secret, early betrayal of the gods. Jawani saw her two or three times a year.
“Anweri,” she said that evening, after an enjoyable reunion and an exhaustive account of the Sunlords' affairs, “the Sun still rises. I think you are imagining the harm.”
“The sun still-” Jawani scowled at her, free to look and sound as irritable as he wished to here. “The sun still rises on a captive pack. Najwah, do we wait under their paws until they choose to conquer us again? It is untenable.”
The brown-and-white wolf stretched her nose forward to bump his face, an affectionate dismissal. “Lead them to war, then. But you'll have to let the Huntresses fight.”
“Bah,” said Jawani. “I'm waiting for my opportunity.” He then smiled winningly at Najwah, confident the shmoozy grin would carry over in his voice. “In case you'd like to infiltrate the enemy pack on my behalf?”
She responded with her traditional chilly calm. “You need to know how many steps to take from the dens to their water source?” Jawani rolled into Najwah's side, nuzzling below her ear. “Or what sort of fish they catch. Perhaps that would be useful.”
Her ear was in his mouth, so it was quite easy to whisper there: “You wait, little moon. I'll show you. I will make us lords again.”
Bombazine Crew
Hilarious Fairy
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Ctrl F Greenie
Colorful Waffles
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Posted: Tue Aug 12, 2014 4:55 am
Character Name: Chausiku - 'born at night' Gender: Female Domain: Gravity If Gravity is not welcome please let me know <3
Brief Personality: Brief History:
Prompt Response
WIP
Posted: Tue Aug 12, 2014 9:32 am
Character Name: Suri [meaning 'red rose' in Farsi] Gender: Female Domain: Fireflies
Brief Personality: Brief History:
Prompt Response
WIP
Kimaria
Fuzzy Kitten
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JetAlmeara
Eloquent Raider
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Posted: Wed Aug 13, 2014 9:04 am
Character Name: Kiwanja (Earth in Swahili) Gender: Male Domain: Sand
Brief Personality:
Kiwanja was not the puppy that everyone expected to grow up and show signs of being a Shaman, indeed that honor would have belonged to his brothers who were far braver and steadfast then he has ever been. Kiwanja is a flighty wolf - easily startled and quickly unnerved, the term 'scared of his own shadow' would probably be an apt description some days.
Despite these inner nerves however, you would be hard pressed to find a kinder and gentler spirit. Kiwanja might be easily frightened but he is very difficult to anger and takes a personal interest in the well being of each and every wolf in the pack. Kiwanja knows well that he lacks the stalwart backbone that his calling is reputed to have and to make up for it the timid, flighty wolf has thrown himself into the role, he performs his duties to the best of his abilities and completely believes in the Sunlords role within the land. Kiwanja desires above all else to be seen in a good light by the rest of the pack, when his time upon the world is done and he becomes part of the sun with the rest of his brethren, Kiwanja wishes that he will be looked back upon favorably, a faithful and dedicated servant to their cause.
Brief History:
Kiwanja was the pup who always trailed behind the rest during training, he never won the wrestling matches and rarely volunteered for them if he could get out of it. The rest of the pack likely watched him with a slight sigh, Kiwanja seemed destined to become that pup that no one really wanted to train or have working for them - he was, well mostly he was a screw up. He tried hard ... he just didn't have the resilient nature demanded of fighters and their ilk. Maybe...he might have passed as a Scout but then again he was so flighty that his threat judgement couldn't really be trusted either. Maybe he would grow out of it? They hoped so.
He didn't. Kiwanja wanted to please, he truly did but every task he tried, every path he followed was an inner war between his all too often frayed nerves and what his superiors wanted him to do. When he was surprised by the stirring of Shamanistic abilities within him Kiwanja grabbed onto this lifeline like a drowning pup to the banks of a river, he threw himself into advancing his skills because, finally, here was something he could do - something he could,maybe, be good at. So far he's managed to handle his duties as a Shaman quite well.
Prompt Response
Quote:
A puppy has been born with a stub for a front leg. As shaman, you are responsible for returning it to its parents in the sky. The journey to the cenotes north of the pack will take a few days when all is said and done, even at a brisk pace. It doesn't take a seer to understand what will happen to the pup when its dropped in. The Spiritwalkers pack is perhaps another day's journey northwest. You might also encounter rogue wolves on your journey. Do you hold fast to tradition? Does your strength of mind break and do you give up the puppy to someone? Either way, can you handle the guilt?
Every step was torment, an inner war between what Kiwanja knew his pack expected him to do and what his heart wanted him to do. The pup was almost dead weight in his jaws, curled and quiet as all pups were when carried by an elder at this age - trusting that the older wolf who carried them would keep them safe. The ache in his neck grew as the day wore on and was matched only by the ache in his heart. This was a duty he had known about in theory, had been taught to believe in and while it had been terrible to learn about he had accepted it in theory as better for the puppy. Surely life as they were born would be harsh and tough, how could an un-whole, disable wolf thrive in a world that demanded strength? Look at himself, even with all four legs and a sound body life had been difficult.
And yet....
It was turning out that 'in theory' was a lot different then 'in practice' and Kiwanja was having a hard time reconciling himself with the duty that had been placed before him. Thank the sun and the moon that it was something that did not happen often, the Sunlord's were full of good strong wolves and issues such as this were few and far between - this was the first that he had ever encountered and for that he was grateful. Not as grateful as he would have been for this pup to have been born whole though. The parents probably thought the same, while the mother had given up her pup, bravely following pack traditions and laws...Kiwanja had seen the pain in her eyes, to loose a child just barely born was a terrible thing for a mother to deal with. How selfish was he to focus on his own problems when she, the mother, lay grieving back in her den. There was nothing Kiwanja could do for the mother ...or the pup. Their fates had been sealed long before Kiwanja had even been born, still the young shaman made a mental note to check in on the mother when he returned, to make sure that she did not fall into depression and continued to eat and care for herself and the rest of her healthy pups.
The trek was long, longer for Kiwanja perhaps then for most in the pack as his frayed nerves caused him to stop and start, cautiously keeping watch for any dangers he might encounter along the way, or perhaps he merely used these dangers as an excuse to delay the inevitable. Arriving at the cenotes was not something he was looking forward too. The pup was starting to suffer from the trip - whimpering in hunger as the trek wore on and each tiny cry felt like a stab to his heart. It was cruel of him to delay it's fate because of his own insecurities, cruel of the pack to demand it's death for something it could not control and Kiwanja found himself questioning why such an accident had occurred.
Despite his hesitant pace and the question which circled through his mind no answers had managed to work thier way into his mind by the time he arrived at the pools of water. Setting the pup down Kiwanja stretched his sore and aching neck. It was time, he had to do it - it was his duty. Picking the pup back up again he quietly shushed it's complains and walked deliberately towards the waters edge, the pup hanging from his jaws over the watery grave. All he had to do was let him go, release his grip, without it's leg the pup likely wouldn't struggle for long..it would sink and die and rejoin it's true parents in the sky. Let him go, Kiwanja told himself sternly, his jaws loosened slightly and the pup drooped in his grasp, kicking slightly at the unexpected motion, just a little bit more the wolf told himself. Between the pads of his paws Kiwanja could feel the grains of sand within the dirt of the ground, working his toes her reveled in the feel, he could do this, he could draw strength from the sand and the ground and he would find the courage to do this terrible but necessary deed.
His jaws loosened further and the pup dropped, but no sooner did Kiwanja hear the splash and hear the pups newborn cry of terror then he was hurling himself in after it, sputtering and gasping Kiwanja fumbled for the sinking pup, hauling it up and throwing it back on the bank before pulling himself up behind. Why had he done that? He was weak, cowardly...he had done his duty, all he had to do then was turn and walk away and yet he hadn't, he'd gone and rescued the pup, saved the life he was supposed to return to the sky, the pup mewled and shivered, crawling closer with its still closed eyes and Kiwanja let it burrow into his thicker coat. He should push it back in - end the torment that he kept prolonging for selfish reasons.
But he could not, He, Kiwanja was far too cowardly to do such a deed - or perhaps a nagging thought wiggled in the back of his mind, perhaps he was too kind, perhaps it was a different sort of strength, to buck pack traditions and beliefs to do what he thought was right. That was thought Kiwanja decided to grasp onto, though he wonder briefly is it was just another excuse, like his slow arrival at the cenotes in the first place. Still he had made his decision - he would not kill the puppy...but what would he do with it? A few thoughts crossed his mind but the only one which seemed to make sense was to take the puppy to the Spiritwalkers - they were a good pack from what he had heard..and at this time of year they were likely to have a nursing mother who could adopt the pup.
Of course..there was always the chance that some visiting Spiritwalker could mention the mysterious arrival of a three legged puppy should one come to visit - but that was rare and Kiwanja decided that was simply a risk he would have to take. He could never tell anyone...not the grieving mother, no one in the pack...no one. It would be a secret and a guilt that he knew he would carry with him to his death. Picking up the pup he shook his coat out, raining water onto the ground and taking a deep breath before he set his paws into this new path, it was a happier trail to run, one without the oppressive knowledge of death at the end of it...but a terrifying one for his own future. He would take the puppy and leave it on the edge of the Spiritwalkers territory, someplace he knew they would find it and then he would return to the Sunlords and hope that his weakness, his inability to follow through was never, ever, discovered.
Posted: Wed Aug 13, 2014 5:32 pm
Character Name: Nisha (Meaning: "Night" in India) Gender: Female Domain: Rainfall
Brief Personality: A lithe and swift hunter, no other huntresses could ever claim that Nisha didn't do her job successfully. She used her intelligence to their advantages, helping organize the other huntresses into smaller groups that complimented one anothers abilities. It allowed them to work more closely as a team, knowing each of their huntress sisters would be right there to help take down their prey. They were able to seek out bigger prey, such as boars (and much more rarely, deer), with more confidence. Her desire to have things structured and organized became an asset to the females. Though she is not a wolf so bold as to wish to be a leader. Nisha can be and is soft spoken, however when she gets excited she'll be a little more vocal. This mostly occurs when she's around her huntress sisters, under the Moon's watchful gaze.
When being escorted and surrounded by the males of the Sunlords, Nisha is quiet and more nervous to speak her mind. Especially as she came into the realization she was gifted. For being a female shaman was extremely frowned upon. And for the soft spoken she-wolf, that meant telling very few. Those that knew were those that had caught her practicing in the night while on a hunt. They encouraged it. Helped if they could. But above all, told Nisha to stay quiet about her ability. Because of her growing shamanism, Nisha has become even more timid and quiet, fearing that one of the males will discover her secret.
Brief History: A happy pup born to a loving huntress mother and a Striker father, Nisha was only one of four. The litter only produced one male, but her parents were proud of their offspring all the same. Her brother was large for a pup and when he was just old enough, their father started him training to be a warrior. Unlike her and her sisters, he was not as swift and agile. He would most likely be an excellent Guard. Nisha and her sisters, however, would become desert huntresses. All three of them had gained their father's agility and their mother's grace. They were swift on their feet and eager to please. Nisha was the only female to gain the stunning colors of the Sun, like her brother and father had. Her sisters had darker coats of blue, taking after their mother.
Nisha was raised believing she would be highly sought after because of her lovely coat, and therefore had to become the best huntress she could. She was a little intimidated by this, but when she was out running under the Moon-goddesses watchful gaze, she was elegant and forgot the small fears that plagued her during the Sun God's hours. This allowed her to bond closer to her huntress sisters and grow a little more confidence each night. Until she discovered a unique ability. It scared her and intrigued her. She had been told about Shamans and Seers, but never dreamed of possibly being on herself! Curious about this new ability she'd been granted, Nisha began to practice in secret. Each night when they hunted, she would practice, only a little bit, and never around anyone else. It was her secret gift she'd been graced with and now it was her duty to keep it hidden.
Prompt Response
Quote:
One of the scouts has come home with an arrow through his shoulder. He's placing no weight on the injured limb. Without healing, if he lives, it is very likely he'll never be able to use the limb again. With healing, the wound may still get infected and mean the loss of the scout. You are the only shaman in the pack. Up until now, you've been extremely secretive about your shaman powers. In fact, only a few of the other huntresses know. You always practice at night, a little bit at a time during hunts. It's well known most males think shaman females are at risk of being manipulated by the Moon. What's more, one of the male wolves you admire (whether this is sexual or platonic is up to you!), is extremely outspoken about females not practicing shamanism. What do you do?
She licked her lips in an unconscious gesture, watching some of the other males gracefully pass by. They were proud and confident, where she was shy when faced with the Sun's time. Her ears picked up a soft commotion, head turning towards the sounds of voices. Curious, she moved closer to her escort, peering around the large male. "What is it, Mehrdad?" Nisha quietly asked, letting her green eyes raise briefly to Mehrdad's before watching the other wolves. The big male was frowning, ears swiveling forward.
"It's the scouts." He said finally, frowning more. "They appear to have... come across some trouble."
Nisha felt herself frowning, wishing to get closer. Something was off about the way one of the scouts moved. But from her current location, it was difficult to see. "Mehrdad... ?"
He chuckled at her and nodded, knowing what she wished without asking. That was one thing she liked about him. The two wolves padded over with the other curious spectators. And as soon as she was close enough to see, Nisha understood why the scout had been moving funny. An arrow stuck out of his leg. The leg itself was useless, for the most part, not offering any support. It was clear he was in pain, though trying not to show it. And Nisha couldn't blame him.
To be less than whole was frowned upon. For a Sunlord was meant to be beautiful.
She felt her shoulders hunch and ears lower, unease filling her. Maybe they shouldn't have moved closer. That way, she could just say she knew nothing of it and not worry about such things that shouldn't matter to a huntress.
But her gut twisted and Nisha was quickly moving away from the scout. Away from the beautiful face trying to conceal pain and fear.
"Nisha!" The sharp bark behind her made the she-wolf stop abruptly. She waited for Mehrdad to catch her, his look disapproving. Her tail lowered, his look enough to chastise her. "Are you ready for me to take you home, lady?" He asked politely. Always the gentleman. So strong and handsome. Nisha ducked her head a little, trying not to make it more obvious what she was thinking.
"Y-Yes." She squeaked out, waiting for him to lead the way. Stupid! Oh how she couldn't wait for the night to come! To run with her sisters and escape the fear that hovered over her like a gloomy cloud. To not have to feel such a strong attraction to Mehrdad. Nisha was fairly certain he would offer to dine with her soon.
But he couldn't! It would break her heart to have to refuse him. And break her more if he knew what she hid from him. From all the Sunlords.
"Make sure to catch us something outstanding, Nisha." Mehrdad was saying cheerfully. "A nice deer would be divine!" He always joked.
"I'll surely do my best." She replied, like always.
By the time the sun drifted below the horizon and the Moon rose up to tease him for his departure, Nisha was all but bolting out of the eyes of the Sunlords, blending into the night with the other huntresses. When she caught up with the group, she was panting, sides moving rapidly as the cooler air of the desert whispered through her lungs.
"What word is there on the scout?" She asked their alpha's mate, without meaning to. Only a few of the other females gave her lingering looks before glancing away. They knew. Were the only ones that knew.
"Not good, I'm afraid." She replied with a heavy sigh. "They say he will lose the leg, more than likely, if it can't be healed. But even then... " Another heavy sigh. "Even then they can't guarantee healing would save it."
But healing would give him a chance, she thought.
"Nisha! Let's go." Shaking herself, as if it would rid her of the glum thoughts, Nisha sprinted off to join the others. She couldn't let herself be distracted. It could mean the loss of prey and a meal. Yet try as she might, the she-wolf couldn't stop thinking about the scout. She could do it. Nisha was fairly certain she had practiced enough. But female shamans were not acceptable. Because she could distract the Sun, just as the Moon tried so very hard to do. And that was not allowed! A females place was as a huntress. And only a huntress she could be. Yet she'd not shied away from her calling. Had not ignored her growing ability. It was weak, still forming as she learned how to use it. But her shamanism was there. Though she did not practice as much on hunts now, especially since she'd been found out by a few of the others. They made her swear to not tell anyone else, as they would do the same.
When the desert huntresses had finished their hunt for the night, the females made their way back to their homes. Most were laughing about one thing or another. But not Nisha. She fell to the back of the huntresses, slowly making her way towards the Scouts on duty. They were serious wolves, doing their job to the best of their abilities and more. And he was there. The injured scout. Limping along his route. He was growing weaker. It was obvious to any that looked.
She could help him. Give him a chance...
And out herself for a shaman. The males would be displeased and tell her to quit practicing. They would watch her. Make sure of it. Force her to be only a huntress. And Mehrdad would be disgraced by her.
Nisha looked up towards the Moon. "Lady of the night, what should I do?" She whined softly, ears lowering. Perhaps the Moon-goddess could give her the answer she desperately needed? She waited, taking comfort in the rays of the moon that fell around her. But then they began to fade, clouds slowly blocking her radiance. And Nisha was placed in shadows. Hidden.
"Thank you, Lady." She whispered, turning her gaze from the Moon. Her goddess had given her an answer. Nisha turned her back on the limping scout. No one could know. She would practice and get stronger. But only in secret. Under the Moon's watchful gaze.
"I am a huntress." Nisha murmured. "And a shaman."
Kyrieko
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medigel
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Posted: Fri Aug 15, 2014 6:55 pm
last minute entries ahahah…….
Character Name: Saraf (Variant spelling of Hebrew Saraph, meaning "burning one" or "serpent." Gender: Female Domain: Smoke
Brief Personality: A doting if dry-witted maternal figure among the huntresses and a sharp-eyed but obedient follower among the males, Saraf has carefully led a double life ever since her adolescence. She cherishes her sisterhood like nothing else now that her mother (her last remaining parent) has returned her spirit to the moon, but in spite of the devout family she grew up in, the shaman has a few choice words about the patriarchy. While she keeps her wit to herself or restrained to the occasional observation or joke, she is painfully aware that one figure alone cannot cause the change she seeks for her sisters; rather than cower, however, she keeps that knowledge close to her heart as a means to fuel her own personal, if secretive, fire.
In general Saraf is kindly and can easily be mistaken for a docile female—she certainly does the act well enough in public. But when it comes to her work, she has the capacity to become almost mulishly obstinate about her opinion. Things must be done her way or it will all go wrong! The health and safety of her patients is without question her top priority, but she is not above nagging or affectionately berating her ward if the wounds in question come from questionable judgment. Her temper is not easily raised, but she does unfortunately bear grudges if the crime is large enough (that is, she is more likely to take offense on behalf of someone else than she would for anything against herself). While never outright in her anger about them, Saraf’s passive-aggression can become just as powerful as an open and angry wolf; if she can, she will make someone pay back twice as much before letting them off the handle.
While she disagrees with the gender imbalance, the shaman’s upbringing has given her an odd mix of devotion and wry affection for the Sunlord doctrine: if the Moon truly is trying to tempt the Sun through her, then she supposes it’s her duty to uphold it, albeit in mild-mannered and non-threatening ways for now. Saraf does not seek absolute revolution after all, merely reformation. There is a small amount of unavoidable guilt in her shamanism, however, that manifests in her occasional habit of dust/mudbathing to hide her beautiful coat in some psychological need to not stand out, though if asked it’s merely because she likes keeping cool. She is of many minds about her power: pride and shame in her potential, hope that it is a sign that even the Sun will allow females something more than the hunt, fear that its reveal will cause her to be outcast or even killed, resentment that it must be hidden; she does not know what is the right path in spite of knowing what she wants. The stress of it all, including whatever the day-to-day life in the pack already gives her, shows if she isn’t careful (and she must be, oh, she must be).
(Addendum since I had ideas but didn’t know where to stick them: Power usage could include signals (white smoke vs black or gray); incense-like if allowed (add flavor to rituals, help soothe others with particular scents); possibly help flush out prey; offensively to help cover escapes, blind opponents/cause respiratory problems; creative derps like smoke tricks if feeling particularly artistic. Backdraw of too much usage is causing her own breathing/eye problems.)
Brief History: Saraf’s bloodline was nearly wiped out in the war against the Timekeepers; this fostered a healthy, if intense need to prove themselves for surviving, and that fear and shame of showing weakness had been passed on just as surely as their sunny coats.
Perhaps the ancestral stress carried as well: no huntress of the bloodline seemed capable of holding pups for longer than three weeks in the womb, if at all, and what litters that did survive were small. Saraf and her brother Samir quickly became a treasure to their parents, the father simply for being a father, the mother, Rajani, for being allowed a rare blessing. She revealed their bloodline’s struggle to survive to her daughter as she grew older, and only with weary reluctance accepted that Saraf was destined to become a shaman (which was, clearly, another obstacle put in their path to make things more interesting).
The young huntress grew more accomplished alongside her sisters, but her rebellious streak opened her up to more than simply healing possibilities: one bright evening, too early for females to be allowed out, Saraf attempted to control her burgeoning powers before the hunt as she was frustrated enough with what little time was given to her, and she wanted to prove herself, selfishly, as the scion her bloodline had been waiting for. A scout returning from patrol was close by when he saw the smoke trailing up and investigated; it was only because Rajani too had followed after her daughter (tugging Samir along) that she was safe, inventing a story about the Sun sparking dry tinder that drew her daughter’s curiosity which the male accepted mostly because he was too tired to look into it further.
From then on, Saraf’s mother oversaw what development her daughter managed, forcing her to stay on the path of healing. Her death as well as that of her father’s has given Saraf freedom to do as she wishes, but she still hasn’t shaken off that burst of fear she had felt that day. The shaman has taken her power development as a sign that changes should come to the Sunlords; it is either that or accept that it is yet another fluke to add to her family's history, an option she refuses. Caution tempers her choices now, but it has not completely smothered her will; to squander her gift, regardless of the troubling circumstances, is tantamount to showing the very weakness her sires loathed.
Prompt Response The late afternoon was slowly becoming more bearable, but the scouting party was late. Beside her, Sarim shifted idly, a hulking Guard of living, contained fire and dark eyes—the sort of presence she might need.
“You should be with Mother,” he muttered under his breath. “Father is set to go soon.” This wasn’t the first time she had asked him to accompany her on a “hunch,” but last time had been a close call. He did not want to dawdle more than necessary before the warriors were called to practice.
“Just wait,” she said patiently. Saraf could not explain the uncomfortable p***k in her chest that had led her to wait for the second to last group, but there she was. The last time she had ignored a gut feeling, one of the huntresses had been nearly gored to death on the hunt. This time, her nerves made the sensation even more acute.
And then they appeared: a small Scout patrol trotted in, their heads bowed, some gasping for breath. But it was the black and azure one that caught her eye, his gait unblanaced: Nadif, the male who had been slowly but with increasing fervor trying to gain her favor. An arrow protruded from his shoulder.
Sarim knew at once what was going to happen, and he turned a sharp glance towards her. “Sister—”
But she called Nadif over anyway, and with an expectant look to Sarim, she led them to a shaded and secluded spot, brushing them both with her tail periodically to incite quiet cooperation. Nadif supported himself against Sarim, wheezing but forcing a smile up anyway, for what better greeting was there to him than that beautiful huntress’s smile?
It did not last long once they were alone. “You are a fool, my light,” Saraf grunted as she listened to his tale, losing all pretense of the relieved and concerned wolf from before as her work self came to life. Nadif was laid out for inspection, and she leaned in towards the wound. His honeyed words of supposed heroism—he had taken the shot for his friend!—were glossed over in her concentration. The arrow was embedded deep: she knew without proper treatment that it would mean the end of not just his career but most likely his life as well.
And yet he continued to behave as though it were a medal of honor for his bravery. That was what irked her and seemed, today, even more than her compassion could take without reaction.
The pressure she placed on him with her paw was perhaps too harsh, but the whimper Nadif made was music to her ears, moreso the yelp when she yanked the arrow out and spat it away. Placing her mouth near the wound, Saraf closed her eyes and began to pour her power, enforced her will to make it a reality. She ignored the gasps of her patient as smoke curled from her maw, encircling the wound. For a stretch of time that was all she knew: the white, soft as a whisper curls of powers that filled what was aching and slowly but surely mended.
Nadif was stunned. Perhaps he meant to act, but his eyes flickered on her larger brother warily. “You . . . But you can’t . . .”
“Can’t I?” The female lifted her brows. “I haven’t heard of a shaman undoing their work, but if you’re so staunchly against it, I suppose I could give it a try just for you . . .” In her heart of hearts she knew the male would have never accepted, but even so a small part of her had hoped even Nadif could change, selfishly, just for her. But the rough treatment and the revelation, along with her inability to appreciate his valor, was too much; she could see the answer in his eyes before his mouth opened.
“I will keep your secret,” he murmured as he winced and stood up. “But I will not keep your company, shaman.”
“Ah, and now I am the one who is wounded,” Saraf replied evenly, though she could not stop the stabs in her heart with each word. “Nevertheless, I pray that the rest of your day is as bright as you are.” And with a final snort, he left.
Neither sibling said anything for a while; her eyes were stuck on the last image of Nadif’s back. Then, gently, Sarim nudged her. “Mother is waiting.”
“Yes,” she said faintly as she followed him back, pretending to look as strong and stoic as she did then in hopes that the longer she acted as such, the more likely it could one day become true.
Posted: Sat Aug 16, 2014 12:37 pm
Firstly, I want to thank everyone for their entries. They were impressively creative and I really enjoyed reading each one.
The winner of the Sunlord shaman is ShadowFox-Sama. Aarush's great necessity towards perfection fits the timid-lines, his domain readily matches his desert environment and I enjoyed the direct use of it within your entry.
ShadowFox-Sama
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Bombazine Crew
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Posted: Sat Aug 16, 2014 1:13 pm
Congrats, Shadow!!
Posted: Sat Aug 16, 2014 6:35 pm
((Aaah finally I can post!))
Ohhh my goodness, thank you so, so much ;3; I can't wait to get this guy in action, I already love him to bits and have so many awesome plans a-brewin' XD
