i am a strange loop

Theodoric Martin · 11-03-2010, 04:56 PM

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set in Theo's hut in the village. all welcome (wc: 335)

Nearly a month had passed since Theodoric joined AniWaya under a craftsman’s banner. His days had been pleasantly full, but he had not yet started weaving again. He had move into an empty house within the village, and spent a lot of energy cleaning and weatherproofing the building for winter. Then there was furniture to make or find, his looms to set up, and firewood to chop. He checked up on the ponies daily, and helped with the harvest as much as he could. Whenever she was amiable, Theodoric hunted with the eagle owl Wynne and learned the lay of the tribe’s lands in the process. All in all, he was beginning to feel at home.

Intentionally or not, the Scottish immigrant filled his days to the brim and left no time for weaving. He made all sorts of excuses to himself: the weather was too fine to be wasted one day, part of the reason he’d moved across the sea was to get away from a production-based routine. Ironically, while he had been travelling, Theo had missed the stability and comfort of a workroom. Now, when he had a workroom set up, he could only think of the outdoors.

But there finally came a day when the time felt right to weave again. The weather was overcast and a little cold, just enough that Theo left live embers in the hearth after breakfast. When he had set up his hut, Theodoric had converted half of the building into a cozy workroom. It was there that he spent the morning stringing the big loom in the bright colors of his family’s tartan, wanting something easy and familiar for his first project. Theodoric took a short break at noon for a bite of lunch and a quick trip up to the stables. Returning, he then began weaving in earnest, his hands moving deftly back and forth across the loom. There was a rhythm to the work, and he hummed a melody while his motions kept time.

Ralla · 11-21-2010, 12:59 AM

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Hiya :3

The peaceful days of tribe life were just that. A sense of normalcy had befallen Ralla; impenatrable for what spring may bring when she and Kemo journeyed south again. She could only wonder when that wall of solace crumbled, and even then that urge to wonder was placated and cooled by the swiftly chilling winds. Gathering the firewood, curling beneath heaps of blankets in her hammock, and being near the Great Fire warmed her within and out, even though she repeatedly knew that the fire was sacred and not to be near. Still, she watched it and felt its heat from the distance she was assigned, and awaited the day that it would be hers to bask in.

The fascination with the Great Fire was because of its mystery, not its power. Ralla had known that there were other mystic wonders of the world, but she had never before resonated with anything but the moon and stars. She felt it special, and she felt that her tribe was special, so she worked hard for them and took pride in her work, however menial.

Ralla was just returning from a wood gathering trip--Sugar, the brown quarter unicorn, still strapped to the cart that had carried the timber--as she made her way to the stables to untack him. She had not expected to see another wolf--unknown to her--leave the building before she arrived. At first, she decided to keep out of the wolf's way; holding back until he was well enough away before going into the stables and getting Sugar situated. But then a tool in the shed fell; a pitchfork. Ralla had not seen one other than in Long Gone buildings, although they seemed more plentiful in Nova Scotia. Its shape was of three prongs, although the middle point fell like a compass straight in the direction that the wolf had left. Call it a trick of the wind, but Ralla saw the sign.

She easily picked up the stranger's scent--definatly AniWayan, if not unfamiliar personally--and followed it; the path that the pitchfork had pointed out clear as the scent trail was. As the scent became stronger, so did a tune. Ralla's ears twitched from side to side as she strained to hear that sound; the sound of music; the sound of what made her blood boil and flow. Without much preamble or reason, she knocked on the door of the house that she had not known filled. Mentally, she noted to add it to her daily-to-weekly rounds. The sounds of a shutter on a loom--distinct in its mechanical rythmn and unmistakable--had reached her ears, accompanied by the sound of the song. She was eager to meet this new wolf, as she was always with new wolves. Her encounters had been many since her arrival in Nova Scotia, yet still she yearned for more.

Moon walks. "Moon talks." Moon thinks.

Pepper Quailchaser · 11-23-2010, 02:27 AM

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Herow. :3

It had been a few days since Pepper had been accepted into the pack. Chief Dawali told her it was acceptable to stay in one of the empty huts or dens.

And yet here she awoke on the outskirts of the village, hidden among the dormant trees. The piece of earth she had slept upon the past few nights was flattened, covered by dead leaves, and muddy. Pepper could feel parts of her fur clumped together with mud. She arose, stiff from sleeping on the uneven, cold ground, and shook. Mud and dirt flew everywhere.

"This is ridiculous," Pepper muttered to herself. "I should at least find somewhere comfortable to sleep tonight, even if I'm too much of a pup to meet anyone new." Pepper ambled out of the brush and surveyed the bustling village. There were a few huts that looked unoccupied, some with their doors open. The young wolf wandered through the huts, thinking as she padded along. "I should probably decide upon a profession sometime soon as well. I promised Chief Dawali that I would be a great asset to the pack. What were the professions again? Ayastigi is a warrior, right? That would be fun. I've always been good at wrestling. Tsula Agateno is a beginning Scout, I think. I would like exploring all over the land. Then there's the Rabbit Hunter. I'd like to get better at hunting. A medicine woman would be boring I think. I'd much rather explore. Crafts would get boring, too. And unicorn esteemed colleague..." Pepper cringed. She hadn't gotten used to the horses yet. They were so huge and scary when riled up. "No horses. Oof!" Pepper was so enveloped in her thoughts that she had skedaddled right into a tall figure standing in front of a hut door. She glanced up at the towering figure and instantly put her ears down against her head, her tail laying against the back of her leg.

"I'm so sorry! I wasn't looking---I should've been watching---I apologize!" she stuttered helplessly.

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Theodoric Martin · 12-07-2010, 03:19 AM

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apologies for the delay! (wc: 560)

In weaving, the beginning few centimeters were the most critical. The tension of the yarn must be gauged correctly and subsequently kept even, otherwise the edges of the product would be lumpy and misshapen. Generally, with the high quality yarn Theodoric was used to working with, this wasn’t a problem, but forgetting to check was a rookie mistake that he wouldn’t be caught making. In a tartan weave like the one he was making, the first bit was also important for establishing the fabric’s pattern. A waylaid line at this point could make the entire design flawed. In something as important and recognizable as a family’s weave, a flawed pattern rendered the fabric useless commercially. Of course, Theodoric wasn’t as concerned with commercial value as he had once been, but it was a point of pride to make the weave flawless.

In his concentration, Theodoric’s mild humming became a full-fledged workroom song. The lyrics were mostly in the muddled old gaelic and english speech that was commonly spoken in the markets and streets of his hometown. In any case, the words were never important for a working song, so long as the general rhythm matched the over, under and across motions of the loom. Back home if a workroom held more than one weaver, it was not uncommon for their motions to become synchronized by the songs they sang.

A knock at the door broke Theodoric’s working reverie. He was more curious at the novelty than he was annoyed at being interrupted. Theo had never had visitors before, let alone unexpected guests. Wynne whistled a greeting from her sturdy perch when he exited the workroom, an area divided from the main room by a long curtain suspended from the rafters. Briefly, Theodoric scanned the room for anything potentially embarrassing that he might have left laying about. Other than the morning’s dishes by the basin he used as a sink, he was satisfied.

Unsure what to expect, Theodoric went to the door and opened it. He was a fairly slender luperci of average height with a grey pelt with some mottled brown. Because he was at home working, he wore only a pair of many-pocketed doehide leggings that covered him from hip to shin. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the daylight beyond the doorway, and to his surprise he had not only one but two visitors on this day. Both looked fairly young, one snow-white and the other mostly grey. He did not recognize either of them, but they both smelled of the pack and so he welcomed them warmly. “Ladies!” he said with a friendly grin, “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Stepping aside from the doorway, he gestured inside, “Please, come in!”

Although Theodoric was a bachelor, his home was tidy and quite clean. The rafters were clear of dust, and only spiderwebs with active inhabitants were allowed to linger in the corners. There were fresh rushes on the floor, but none too near the large fireplace in the left corner of the room. Otherwise, it was clear that the home lacked a lady’s touch. The furniture was made or chosen for function rather than form, and the only decoration on the walls was a solitary small framed tapestry. But with embers still warm in the hearth, the building was snug against the oncoming winter’s chill.

Ralla · 12-15-2010, 07:58 PM

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Well, THIS is long overdue >.<

Twitching her ears again, Ralla turned her head to see another wolf meandering towards her. It was a female, grey, and younger than herself. In lupus form, the female's head was dipped low, and Ralla could hear her muttering to herself, although it was much too low to decipher. With a complacant face, Ralla watched in amusement as the wolf walked right into her. The small one began to stutter in apology, displaying lower rank quite profusely, and Ralla couldn't help but smile and feel bad for the pup at the same time. "It's alright, it's alright! No harm done," she said while kneeling down to the other's height. "But just what were you mum--" Ralla was cut off as the door opened to reveal the hut's occupant. It was a male luperci who seemed as surprised as Ralla had first been when she had seen the Great Fire, although he promptly welcomed both she and the grey wolf into his home. "Thank you," she replied to his gesture, motioning with her hand for the grey luperci to follow, a kind smile marking her muzzle, since she felt like the little one needed the encouragement. Inside, Ralla instantly felt cozy even in the mismatched and bare room. But she supposed that the things being mismatched was what gave it its charm. Not like I can complain. Back in her own hut, hanging above her hammock, were hundreds of glass shards and bobbles, odd ends and cloth stacked or decorating the walls haphazardly. It gave her a sense of culture...and she really just liked odd or beautiful things.

"This is really quite nice," she said as she felt the rushes beneath her feet. "Ah, pardon my manners. My name is Ralla, the Gata Hineyu here. And this is...?" She gestured to the grey wolfess with a paw, unsure.

Moon walks. "Moon talks." Moon thinks.

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