weary guardians
#1
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SSWM Word Count → 228 :: Set right after "Path of the Scarred." Hopefully this is okay for you, Zyn! Didn't know what to write...


Tired, so tired… Vesper didn’t even know why she was so exhausted. As far as fights had gone, the attack on the blonde bitch hadn’t been particularly intense; not a lot of blood had been spilled on her end. Perhaps the frantic journey toward Ichika had tired her out more than she’d thought, however, and she realized now that she’d been hauling Kiara most of the way there. Tongue lolling from her wolfy secui jaws, she paused then dropped down onto the earth, panting and turning her head to look apologetically at X’yrin. Her Shepard had been signaled by her nameless owl companion to the scene of the chaos, drawing her student aside when it was apparent that the injured arctic wolf would be tended to by the others.

Vesper rested her muzzle briefly on her scraped forelegs. She wasn’t sure what to say yet, as only silence had passed between the pair as they’d walked somewhere more private. The coyote hadn’t wanted to be with the others when Kiara was being treated, despite her promises to be there with the arctic wolf. She prayed that Kiara wouldn’t need her, for the only way she could be of use was to help her through the terrifying transformation…

“I hope she wasn’t infected,” the exhausted fighter breathed, her voice hoarse. “She’ll recover from the cuts, but never from that…”


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#2
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What followed her summon could only have been described as surreal. The smell of blood, the res stain upon the pure white snow was engraved in her memory, churning her stomach with discomfort as she could not rid her mind of the scene. Perhaps it made her appear cold to the eyes of her packmates, taking the Infernian aside instead of following the caravan to tend to her wounded friend. Her knowledge of the medicinal art was lacking, and through her panic she recollected this fact knowing that against her initial wants there was literally nothing she could do for the girl now. At least not in the sense to heal her wounds.

The Nomad was a pillar of silence as she ushered herself and Vesper away toward the thick of the Forest so find their seclusion and replay the terrible accounts that had befallen the coywolf and the arctic female. The Kozan couldn’t even think of the fallen girl now without seeing the horrendous red staining the purity of her coat. A fate underserved by one so kind and forgiving as her.

Memory of a reserve made just for herself in her early days within Ichika lead the pair deeper into the darkening midst of looming spires. Even with their canopies barren the thickness of their towering branches alone provided ample cover, shrouding the forest in haunting hues the further they delved into the ancient family. When at last they were brought to a fallen tree, its roots unearthed and stretching skyward in vain for by a sliver of protruding light, the woman paused before it marking their found destination with a careful depress to her knees while curling her agitated tail beneath her. Quietly she offered her paw for her student to relax as well and took the time to examine her as best she was able.

The idea that infection might have tainted Kiara’s purity was not taken with the same fear as was instilled by the victim and her savior. She was silent in her contemplation of this notion, offering no word of hope or comfort when it can plainly possible that it had occurred. But by this thought alone, an image of the violence was painted in her mind. Teeth…fangs…and blood. Her attacker had to have been ruthless and wild if her friend harbored fear that the wound girl would be turned. A soul of blatant disregard for the lasting consequences they could have burdened upon an innocent. “She could very well have been infected,” she began softly while taking a calming breath. “And if that is so, we can only offer our aid through that trying time and help her understand what has happened. But if she does not undergo a change, then we should be happy for her…. But none the less make the assailant responsible for setting her lift out of balance so violently.”

Again, X’yrin tried to breathe in the fragrance of the forest, seeking its earthy aroma touched by the crisp of winter to ease her raging spirit. To think so brashly would cost not only her, but the pack as a whole if she was not careful. She had to think this through rather than rush off with Hell licking at her heels. Above all, she needed to be calm. And so she breathed again, carefully settling her eyes upon the winter blues of her cherished friend. “Can you tell me what happened, Vesper?”


ooc: 575 words.

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#3
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SSWM Word Count → 800


The scents of the forest soothed Vesper slightly; her nose fell between her paws, and she blew the snow from her whiskers before nudging her muzzle against the loam underneath, trying to unearth the odors. Her retractable claws dug lightly into the ground, the strain stretching up her shaky limbs with sharp pain that had her almost whimpering. For once, she was glad for the coldness in the shadows of the thick branches overhead, evergreen boughs offering frigid shade that numbed the young woman and the minor cuts she had suffered in the attack. The scrape on her cheek had ceased bleeding for a long time and would likely not even scar.

All these thoughts and sensations whirled through her foggy mind, and she had almost fallen asleep when her friend inhaled and spoke. Her angular head lifted, blue eyes refocusing as her discipline shoved away the weariness that had overtaken her. When her Shepard acknowledged her very real fears, the Infernian trembled with anger. "I couldn't leave her if that happened," she murmured; the vow was mostly to herself and to her comrades back home. The pale tawny luperci had gone through the pain and the fear and wasn't certain that Kiara would be able to survive the transformation with an intact mind. Hell, she was pushing it when she mentioned the arctic wolf's ability to get over the brutal attack itself. She might be underestimating the pack wolf, but it was a very real fear. No one lived the same life of another, and not everyone was conditioned for disasters like this.

Mention of the young wolf's attacker had Vesper trembling again, a growl slipping through clenched teeth. Claws gouging the earth underneath the layer of frost, she stood and lifted her coal-tipped tail. Only the practiced layer of ice cocooning her rage enabled her to stand still rather than attack the nearest inanimate object. Months of training after she'd let her anger take hold of her -- and the training with her new mentor -- managed to cool her temper though she still lashed her tail and met her friend's golden gaze darkly.

"What happened," Vesper echoed. She closed her eyes as if to imagine the scene, but that proved to be too much. She could only remember blood on snow and the rage that filled her when she saw what was happening. Justified rage, she had to tell herself, but something screaming and feral and lusting for the shearing of flesh under her jaws had exploded out of the secui-formed woman.

Her head ached. Shaking it did not help. She nearly collapsed, trying to keep her eyes focused on her friend. The image of another young she-wolf leaped into her mind, one dark, collapsed against a tree, whimpering because her sight was lost. This time, shaking her head did cause her to lose balance, but a quickly thrust-out limb kept her from falling into the snow. She was glad for four legs.

"The bitch was cutting her," the coywolf hissed. "She had a knife and was cutting her." If she ever saw a knife again, it would be too fucking soon. "The dog was completely unharmed. Kiara wouldn't hurt a fly. All I saw was that dog practically carving into her, and -- " Her head throbbed again, and one eye squinted before she huffed in annoyance. Perhaps there were more lingering wounds from the attack than she'd thought; that weapon had brained her pretty hard. All she could hope was that it would pass. "I attacked the dog. I didn't do as much damage as I wanted to" -- for that was an impossibility -- "but I managed to buy Kiara some time to wriggle free. And then we managed to reach Ichika." Her words trailed to a halt, and she sighed, plopping her rear down on the ground.

She had to think realistically now. X'yrin was doing a very good job of keeping calm; she wouldn't want to listen to any more of this babbling. The next step would obviously be to find the assailant and dole out justice, a task that Ves knew she wouldn't be able to do on her own. Hopefully, however, the peaceful pack would be able to see past its ideals; if so, the dog would have hounds on her heels.

"I could identify her if I ever saw her," Vesper muttered. "I think that collie was going to try to track her with her bird. I don't -- I don't know what else we can do right now, other than pray for Kiara." She would pray, too, even if she didn't know who or what she would be praying to. There was a boundary between hope and prayer, and Ves would cross it when she deemed it necessary.


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#4
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Raw anger… the taste for vengeance… repercussions for the violent act done to so innocent a creature as the white wolfess; the Nomad could only think of those things even as she fought to calm herself and find something rational to this madness. But there was none to be found. The calm adorned upon her muzzle was but a fragile mask already chipping away with each angered twitch of her lips. The Exultare prided themselves on their mental fortitude, able to keep a cool head even when the atrocious acts of others roused their desire for violence. She was certainly proving their skill this day, but she was near shaming them once her tawny companion spoke.

X’yrin did not hear, but felt the words as they were spoken. Each syllable painted a painful image, each venom word poisoning her ears with the tale of how harm came to their friend. Cutting…carving… Claws could not have done something as that and rarely was the damage described as such. Only those infected that favored tools beyond their own teeth and claws took materials that warranted such descriptions. And dog… The woman felt her ears perk up and eyes grow wide with alarm. Her angered gaze cut to the ice blues of her student. “Dog?” She growled softly, testing the water of her assumption before delving in completely.

The woman was not prejudice in nature, in her eyes all were equal and warranted the same earned respect. But she had her silent reservations about their more domesticated kin, favoring clothing and more humanoid status than retaining their primal forms. Carrying themselves as if there was something to prove… Deplorable. The female wrinkled her nose in disdain, lengthy incisors flashing as quivering lips briefly unsheathed the perilous fangs then just as quickly veiled them again. With difficultly, the woman continued to breathe, fighting with what strength she could muster to reclaim her calm and think clearly. She could not allow herself to get emotionally. Knowing herself far better than any other, she knew her capabilities and what he heart would lead her to do.

But the life she led was not for herself any longer, for it was bound as well the lives of Ichika. Her actions would not just be looked upon as her own, but as a reflection of this peaceful pack. Their reputation would be tarnished if she was not careful. And so she breathed again, inhaling the cool winter air then exhaled the heat of her anger. “Kiara is fortunate that she has a friend to pray for her,” the warrior spoke softly. “I will sing and bid that the ancestors watch of her and deliver her from the dangers that lie ahead.” Carefully, she brought a clawed digit to her nose in gesture of an inquiry, a curiosity that need be appeased.

“You attacked this dog Vesper… and I am grateful to you for coming to Kiara’s aid when you did. But I must ask you; this dog… what did she look like?”


ooc: 504 words.

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#5
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SSWM Word Count → 350


Amber eyes flicked suddenly to pale blue, and Vesper tensed in response to the alertness the russet woman displayed. She echoed a single word, which the hybrid nodded and shrugged lightly at, still trying to recover from the waves of aggression breaking powerfully over her throbbing head. It had been another dog—or a cross—that had stabbed Ves and infected her with the bloody virus. Perhaps, if she didn’t take everything and everyone on a case by case basis, she might have fallen into a prejudice such as others in the coyote clan held. It was true that dogs were influenced genetically by humans, with tendencies bred into them that were either exaggerated or downright unnatural. It seemed that she had been unlucky enough to run into the worst of the bunch.

A flash of teeth betrayed the fury coursing through the Exultare woman, and the coywolf winced as another jab of pain rattled her mind. She knew that X’yrin was strong enough to suppress her rage in order to see the situation objectively—or at least hold back the rashness that had been Vesper’s bane as an adolescent. Honestly, though, she was surprised she had been able to put off bloody vengeance long enough to even get Kiara to safety. With her wisdom and training, X’y would be able to calm herself once more so they could figure out what to do.

X’yrin spoke in soft tones, and the reassurance that they would do all they could to pray and sing for the arctic wolf smoothed the ragged hybrid’s fur. When finger touched nose and the tall woman made an inquiry, however, her ears stood at attention again.

“She had creamy-colored fur,” Vesper murmured, remembering that it’d looked flat and disgusting through her hate-clouded vision. “Blonde hair. One of her ears was brown, maybe.” She couldn’t really discern color when she’d taken said ear in her teeth. The thought made her snort before she brought her attention to X’yrin once again, hoping that the information was helpful, not realizing the deeper curiosity that might linger behind the question.


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