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 Posted: Sat Jul 08, 2006 12:45 pm
Silence.
It was common to find the young, punk wolf out wandering by the shoreline of the beach when morning had not yet graced the lands with its immaculate rays. But, to Cellen, this was his job and his duty; to protect and to survey the packlands for intruders or nomads.
But today was different.
With his post secured by a lower guard, the brown wolf had decided to venture elsewhere. But the question still remained: Where was he to go?
As he casually padded upon the worn trail that snaked through the foilage and dense outskirts of the woods, Cellen's ears flickered as they sought any other presence or even a suitable prey that he could track. His crimson, tapered fur atop his head swayed and brushed over his right eyes as he wandered within the unfamiliar terriotory. The roar of the ocean surf was growing faint and the stench of sea salt was dissapating faster within the air.
He was definately farther than he intended.
Yeilding in his steps as his curled tail swayed curiosly behind him, the punk wolf gritted his teeth and glanced around his surroundings.
"Well," he mused with a thick, british accent, "this is a bit of a horlick."
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Posted: Sat Jul 08, 2006 12:58 pm
Rorrim had been more restless than ever of late. Living in the packlands with Lia was pleasant and made him happier than he had been in long time. But something was amiss. He didn't know what it was, all he knew was that every now and then, an old scent would come to him, one familiar and terrible in it's familiarity. Memories of blood and torment came back to him more often and he sought out the reflections to ease them. He followed one of the brooks that led to the sea, knee deep in the icy water, his eyes fixed firmly on the bubbling surface. He didn't care how cold he was, he could imagine he saw a reflection there, someone familiar.
He had found a carcass earlier, torn to shreds but barely even eaten. It made him shiver and move faster on his way. He couldn't be in the packlands right now, not with his past hot on his tail. It was as though the ghost of his alpha and brother tailed him once more.
Mrost was supposed to be dead but Ror was beginning to doubt this and it terrified him.
He froze in his staring at the water and raised his head, ears up. Did he just hear someone speak? He wasn't far from a trail, perhaps another wolf was nearby. Maybe they'd have seen the blue wolf that plagued his nightmares.
Stepping out of the water and shaking the excess from his pure white fur, Rorrim headed towards the sound he'd heard, venturing a "Hello?" as he did so.
He just prayed to the gods it wasn't Mrost he was heading towards.
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Posted: Sat Jul 08, 2006 1:22 pm
His metal ridden ears perked upwards as his tattered, left ear swivled back and intook the sounds of the early morning. So, Cellen was not alone? Cerulean orbs began perusing about in search of the wayward creature (most likely another wolf by the scent that lingered within the brisk morning air).
"Mornin'," he called as he stepped out from the foilage and burly brush that encircled him.
Stiff-leggedly padding out and in sight, Cellen settled his orbs upon an unfamiliar white wolf whose fur was burnished and consumed in strange, black markings. Though he did not understand what they meant or of their signifance, he shook his head and let a warm smile cross his maw.
"Well at least there's one soul whose kickin," he chuckled as he padded closer towards the estranged wolf, keeping a comfortable distance between them, "lately these part of the woods have been goin' to the dogs; desolate and scare."
Shaking his head as he wisked away the tapered, crimson streaked bangs from his eyes, the punk wolf settled himself down on his haunches and yawned.
"Names Cellen; Head guard of Phib's packlands. And what about you, mate? Are you just leggin' it or are you lookin' for something...someone?" He tilted his head slightly as he shifted his forepaws, toenails gritting across the surface as he knitted his brows in slight thought.
"That's how alot of wolves came here...'cause they were lookin' for somethin'."
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Posted: Sat Jul 08, 2006 1:41 pm
Ror pushed through the undergrowth with ease, gladdened by the unfamiliar voice that returned his greeting. It wasn't Mrost and therefore no matter who awaited him, they were welcome. As he spotted Cellen, the white wolf looked him over, old habits dying hard as such he almost instinctually sized up anyone he met. The wolf before him, though well proportioned and strangely attired did not seem hostile and that put the normally edgy wolf's mind firmly at ease. He smiled, a mannerism learned through prescise imitation of others, it wasn't something native to him but it seemed to work.
Lowering his head in greeting but not relaxing from his strictly assertive posture, he replied "Nice to meet you Cellen, the name's Rorrim, not really a pack dog, not really a roamer. Not really anything." his voice was strange, devoid of inflection of intonation, monotone.
He nodded however, at Cell's perceptiveness "Indeed I am looking for someone. At least before he looks for me. He'd be very hard to miss, unnaturally blue covered all over with markings not unlike my own." he sat down too, momentarily glancing around them as though Mrost might lunge at any moment.
"But by far the most noticable thing about him is that he's mad. Mad as a hatter, killing anything he can and hiding from anything he can't." he frowned and shook his head. "I doubt you'd have met him though, he seems to be tracking me rather than anyone else."
He paused, realising that he wasn't actually sure where he'd ended up, looking from his paws back to Cellen. "Where is "here" anyway?"
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Posted: Sat Jul 08, 2006 1:57 pm
The punk wolf nodded his head in the given greeting and let his checker-banded forepaws outstretch; the taunt muscles and knots within his back loosening as he slunk down, nearly on his stomach, and breached upwards feeling the pent up tension and discomfort leaving him.
"Rorrim," he mused as he let the word flow off his tongue. Cellen rather liked the name and, for the sort that stood before him, he even deemed it fitting. A nice match, really. "A pleasure."
Listening attentively to Ror's explaination, Cellen nodded his head and let a small smile cross his lips. "A blue wolf? Well, I've seen a countless sorts around here but a blue bloke?" His brows furrowed with thought as he stuck his tongue out the side of his mouth in a typical "ponderous" expression. "Can't say I have, mate."
"But you say this wolf you're lookin' for is-well, a Mad Allec?" Shaking his head, Cellen glanced to each side and casually settled his ceruelan orbs back upon the white and black marked wolf before him.
"That surely will have Phib deal a bit of a hit for six if he finds a mad wolf romping about," he chuckled with a low rumble as he stammered his right paw upon the ground.
Sighing a soft breath as, for once, Cellen was feeling a bit more relaxed than tense, he opened his maw slightly as he was trying to get his bearing of where exactly he was.
"Behind me is the ocean; this region is the far, far outskirts of the woods and all that's here are vagabonds, outcasts, wanderers, surf and sand. But, from the direction you came from, the center of the woods is just past and near the right and if you keep going north you'd hit the boarders of the mountains and Seer's Cliffsides."
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Posted: Sat Jul 08, 2006 2:14 pm
"Pleasure's mine." he countered, grinning again. He really did find this unusual wolf facinating, having come across no one like him in all his wanderings. He seemed eccentric but amiable, his turns of phrase leaving Rorrim running to keep up. He hadn't expected Mrost to have been sighted around here, at least not yet, but it never hurt to be wary, he supposed.
"That's good in some ways I suppose. But yes, if anyone from your pack, alpha or any rank come across him, do not trust him, his silver tongue is concealed between backstabber's fangs." he shook his head "He only cares about rank and power, nothing else. Like I say, if you see him, best be driving him out." It was an honest warning, Rorrim had been a tool to Mrost's devices too many time to underestimate the wolves capacity for betrayal.
As the other wolf described the lands he had stumbled into, Rorrim mentally mapped things out. He hadn't realised he had come almost all the way to the shoreline in his restlessness. It was a long way back.
"Wow, I must have been walking longer than I thought." he laughed, a laugh as monotone as his voice. "Let my legs get carried away."
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Posted: Sun Jul 09, 2006 1:54 pm
Cellen couldn't help but let a wide-set grin sweep across his maw as he continued to converse with Rorrim. There was something about him, a familiar sense, that made the punker feel- well, at ease. The white fur like that of fresh fallen snow and the moonless black upon his fur reminded him of another wolf, Damu if he recalled correctly.
He nodded attentively as he brushed his right paw against his checkered bands, a mere thought rolling through his head. "Well, I'm sure that if that manky fellow tries to storm through Phibs packlands he'll be in a bit of horlicks with the Alpha and his guards."
"And I do have to express my thanks for you givin' us a warning, too." He added with a friendly smile, ears swiveling as his curled tail behind him thumped and swayed casually.
Listening as the white wolf spoke, Cellen tilted his head slightly and gave a quizzical look.
"I never did ask you, mate, where do you hail from?"
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