Cicatrix - Printable Version +- 'Souls IPB Archive (November 2007–October 2012) (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb) +-- Forum: Dead IC (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb/forumdisplay.php?fid=110) +--- Forum: Dead Topics (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb/forumdisplay.php?fid=21) +--- Thread: Cicatrix (/showthread.php?tid=23780) |
- Finn Fidh - 12-29-2011 [html]
WC: 600+
It had been four days since Finn joined Anathema, and already she was out a’roaming once more. Chalk it up as an old habit. Though Finn felt the slight kindlings of happiness at having found a more permanent home than all her previous attempts, she had spent all her life wandering. It was hard to deny her feet what they were so accustomed to. And thus here she was, edging along the ice-locked coast of Aelcrest, eyeing the seals as they moved in their peculiar caterpillar gait across the beach. Such strange animals. Incredibly ungainly on land, yet graceful as ravens in flight underwater. Finn had seen them, long, long ago when she lived in British Columbia. From the cliffs, during the one summer she experienced there, she stared out into the clear, blue water with her brothers, and watched the seals dance. Brom’s smiling face swam before her eyes, and Finn cringed at the sight of her sibling. He had been laughing then, and even Aegnus had smiled. This was before the latter killed the former, before Finn was chased from her father’s territory like a mangy coyote. At the time she never would have thought it possible for so much heartache to be waiting just around the bend. She was older now, and wiser. Perhaps more jaded too, though somehow the cruelties of the world had managed to also whet her appetite for kindness. Finn shrugged her thin shoulders, feeling the absence of her almost constant companion quite keenly. Alastair had vanished from the woods outside of the caves of Anathema, and Finn had spent no great amount of time looking for him. Secretly, he hoped he had run into a pretty doe and they were spending their time in whatever strange form of courtship deer undertook. Though to most wolves her companion would be prey, to Finn he was perhaps the closest thing to a friend she had. She smiled bitterly, wondering if Alastair felt that she herself needed to get it over with and find a nice young wolf to settle down with. Abandoning her morbid musings, Finn broke into a steady run that took her down towards the scrubby grass bordering the beach. Hunger coiled through her belly, and she hoped to dispel it with a quick meal of rabbit, or perhaps gull. The seals would be far too hard to catch, and Finn felt strangely ashamed at the thought of all those expressive eyes turned upon her as she feasted on one of their own. She moved with ease, even in the snapping cold, even in hunger, even after her journey from Anathema. In fact, these days, Finn had never felt so alive. For once she was accepted, for once she was actually speaking with other wolves, instead of being attacked or driven away, and it was nice. She had not realized how much she missed a friendly tone of voice, or casual conversation about the weather. And though the sight of so many luperci sent her heart racing in trepidation, it seemed that familiarity bred contempt, and her fear for the mutations was lessening each day. She still didn’t exactly like them, but she had realized, speaking with Naniko, that they were all still wolves. Wolves in strange, unnatural, two-legged bodies, but wolves all the same. Reaching the grass, Finn dipped fluidly into a crouch and fell still, standing like a particularly battered statue amongst the turf. The dune grass reached past her shoulders, and with the gloom of the weather she became just another shadow, rippling across the ground with the movement of the wind. It was so easy to fall into this state, this zen-like concentration. Her pale blue eyes, like chips of ice, focused on a nesting gull. The pupils widened, till her eyes were all but dark. Her breath stilled, becoming no more than a whisper, her muscles tensed, tensed, tensed. And then she sprang, falling upon the gull in a sudden burst of feathers and a spatter of blood across the earth. - Sirius Revlis - 01-02-2012 [html] wordcount: +857
The bay stretched before him, its waters chilly with the bite of winter. He knew that there were seals along the shore, here; This was why the king scouted. They would be a valuable source of food to Salsola, when other food sources dwindled. The herds of deer that milled about would head further south to warmer plains, where his pack could not follow. They had given up a nomadic way of life when they had been blessed with the virus - Bipedal innovations meant that food could be stored and hunted more proficiently, ensuring that the pack would have a sufficiently supply in one territory all year around, providing they were vigilant and knew which sources to rely on.
Sirius Revlis Hail the Conqueror Worm .gsiri-01 {width:500px;margin:0px auto;text-align:justify;line-height:15px;font-family:Georgia, Helvetica, serifs;font-size:12px;letter-spacing:.75px;word-spacing:1px;} .gsiri-01 .ooc {text-align:left;font-style:italic;font-size:11px;border-bottom:1px dotted;padding-bottom:5px;letter-spacing:.90px;} .gsiri-01 p {text-indent:40px;padding:0px 0px 5px 0px;} .gsiri-01 b {font-size:13px;letter-spacing:1px;} .gsiri-01 .name {text-align:center;font-family: 'Permanent Marker', cursive;font-size:50px;line-height:20px;} .gsiri-01 .quote {text-align:center;font-size:10px;padding-top:10px;letter-spacing:10px;text-transform:uppercase;}</style>[/html] - Finn Fidh - 01-03-2012 [html]
WC: 700+
As she chewed at the gull, Finn came aware of another presence. The breezy air wafted back and forth, but two quick snuffs brought the scent of a male wolf to her nose. Feigning ignorance, Finn continued her meal, waiting for him to call out. When he did, a small smile flickered at the corner of her mouth. Finn did like company, and she liked talking even more. Maybe she could even convince this newcomer to help her hunt down a seal, if he proved mannerly. "Finn Fidh goes here." She replied, glancing at the other wolf unconcernedly through the corner of one eye, "And who does the asking?" She marked his dominant stance, his proud mien, and his rather lacking tail held straight and bushy as a wee rabbit’s. Ah, so she was expected to play this game, was she? Indifferent to such politics of the loner lands, Finn kept her posture neutral, tail neither high nor low, ears cocked in a roguish manner that spoke only of polite curiosity and attention, not of violence. All the while she continued her meal, the feathers of the gull drifting about her head like a bizarre, bloody halo. As she chewed, she took the chance to measure up the wolf, from toes to lanky legs to dappled pelt, to shortened tail to green, green, green eyes. The latter were rather hostile, though Finn guessed by the general body language that this might be par for the course. "Should be interesting." Finn Fidh approached slowly, dropping the gull between them as an offer of goodwill. "What brings you to the shore today?” She asked, presenting her good ear towards the wolf and simultaneously exposing the scars that bared her teeth. He looked young, but proud. Perhaps he was important. His pack scent was that of Salsola, she knew that fact like the back of her paw. Finn had already begun expanding her repertoire of knowledge when she had joined Anathema. The caves held a library, a library! And Finn couldn’t imagine living without one now. She had carefully taken book by book away to her cave to peruse, returning them dutifully in due time. She couldn’t read the words, but the pictures she could remember. She had always thought of Canada as a place bursting with fauna, but some of the encyclopedias she had nosed through held images of such fantastical creatures! It saddened the she-wolf that all their names and places were (pun horribly intended) a closed book to her. She could no more read than those seals on the beach But something had started to change in Finn, and her views towards luperci and their ways was beginning to gradually shift, like the ice of a glacier carving the stone across eons. She felt a new desire within her, the desire for knowledge. Her life had been so dark until now, full of brutal instinct and ancient traditions. She wanted to know more about everything. The sun, the sky, the clouds, the birds, the fish, the wolves, the ocean, the mountains, the world. How could a wolf go through life ignorant of these things? It made Finn ashamed to come from that places in the mountains to the west, where paper and pen was a thing unheard of, let alone books. Her father had made proclamations about the world and they were expected to be learned, unchallenged, lapped up like milk. And already Finn had found several things wrong with what he had said. It was frustrating, to say the least. It meant the great and endless library in her head had to be *shudder* edited. What was even further distressing was that even the new knowledge she might eke out could be wrong. It was silly to believe everything you read. So what did you believe? Finn had heard that the silly creatures that used to crawl all over this land, the ones that built that city of stone to the southeast, couldn’t smell most things five feet from their nose. Yet wolves, and dogs and coyotes excelled at this, and knew far more smells than any human could name! Therefore the human’s world was defined by their limitations, and thus it stood to reason so did wolves’. Trying to keep her mind from spiraling further into that philosophical morass, Finn gave a little mental shake, her eyes snapping into intense focus from the cloudy, far-off state of a space cadet. She returned to regarding the wolf. Perhaps he could read. Perhaps he knew things. Well, she’d just have to be her nice little self and see if he could prove helpful. - Sirius Revlis - 01-08-2012 [html] wordcount: +470
There was usually a nervous energy in anyone that Sirius approached. He prided himself on some form of intimidation - While not outwardly bloodthirsty, or infected with the lust for death that some creatures had, there was undoubtedly a deep danger within his veins. It stemmed from his very blood, for his father had been a mad prince, and his mother came from a line of ancient kings. Wickedness was in his very nature, his very composition. It was all he knew.
Sirius Revlis Hail the Conqueror Worm .gsiri-01 {width:500px;margin:0px auto;text-align:justify;line-height:15px;font-family:Georgia, Helvetica, serifs;font-size:12px;letter-spacing:.75px;word-spacing:1px;} .gsiri-01 .ooc {text-align:left;font-style:italic;font-size:11px;border-bottom:1px dotted;padding-bottom:5px;letter-spacing:.90px;} .gsiri-01 p {text-indent:40px;padding:0px 0px 5px 0px;} .gsiri-01 b {font-size:13px;letter-spacing:1px;} .gsiri-01 .name {text-align:center;font-family: 'Permanent Marker', cursive;font-size:50px;line-height:20px;} .gsiri-01 .quote {text-align:center;font-size:10px;padding-top:10px;letter-spacing:10px;text-transform:uppercase;}</style>[/html] |