The Blind Can See

Ralla · 09-19-2010, 09:40 AM

[html]

Nice integration of the owl Tongue Note for everyone: Ralla's being a Secret Santa without even knowing XD

It was only a day after Ralla had returned from her journey. Today was the day she'd go around leaving the gifts she found for Chief Dawali, Liliana, Aithne, and Susquehanna. For her Chief she had found many crow feathers and secured them at intervals to a beaded necklace of bright red orbs. For Liliana there had been what she supposed was once a Long Gone child's toy in the shape of a horse. It was chipped in some places and its paint was worn, but Ralla thought it a fitting gift nonetheless. For Aithne she had found little, shiny blue jems hidden in a box in a Long Gone home that had fastenings at the backs akin to what she wore on her own ears. Earrings... And for Susquehanna she had brought back a knife. It was dull from years of misuse, but the handle was ornately carved wood in the shapes of vines and a single rose near the end. Surely the black wolfess who had two knives already had the means to sharpen a third?

All of this was carried in a satchel that she had also found--the same one she had added to the saddlebags on her borrowed horse, Sugar, for the journey--as she went out to Serena Reserve to begin her duties that she promised herself she would work even harder at when she returned. On her back was the woodstock carrier, secured firmly over her shoulders like a backpack, and in her free hand the small axe to gather dead wood. The reserve was surprisingly active this day for fall, and Ralla supposed it was because the animals were gathering their last stores of food for the winter. Something we must all do soon, again, I think. With the influx of sudden arrivals in the tribe, the need for food was more dire than ever. A new arrival herself, but a month or so ago, she understood this well enough.

Ralla had gathered a half-stock of dry wood before she smelled an unfamiliar scent. The possibility of intruder flashed through her mind, but if he or she was bigger than Ralla, she didn't stand a chance. Maybe with the axe... Yes, definatly. It was a morbid thought, even to her. But when it came to do or die, even she wouldn't use the axe unless it were that needful. Thankfully, the territory borders were fading quick, and Ralla hoped the stranger was outside of their lines. Jumping into the trees, she shed the woodstock carrier and satchel and left them there for safekeeping as she jumped nimbly through the red and brown branches, high in the trees, to follow the scent of the stranger. When she passed over the territory marker, she felt relief that it was not an intruder; merely a close-keeping stranger.

Coming upon the stranger, Ralla was fascinated to see a large, lupus form, white wolf--perhaps even taller than her in lupus form--padding slowly through the undergrowth. She kept very still in the tree, almost certain that he would notice her scent if he kept coming on as he did. The things that most caught her attention were the obvious scars crossing over his face and the odd-shaped mark on his chest that she only glimpsed before he came too close and his chest was hidden. To her, it had appeared like...a crescent moon.

It couldn't be... Could it...? She shook that thought from her mind. Yes, she thought she had seen a crescent moon on his chest, but it was different from the one on her forehead. And Shamans from the Moon Tribe marked their foreheads, not their chests. AND what would a Moon Tribe wolf be doing so far out here? Alright, yes, she was there, but she had...reasons... But it was a sign she could not ignore about the stranger. The crescent moon meant wishes and, in her case, home...

Moon walks. "Moon talks." Moon thinks.

Login




Remember me Lost Password?