'Souls RPG

Full Version: black sands
You're currently viewing a stripped down version of our content. View the full version with proper formatting.
[Image: wolfmoon.gif] Prompt  It's early evening near Rabbit Lake, and the clouds look amazing.
Your character is trying to read words etched on a boulder.

Fallow had sat there for what had felt like an age as the sunlight had started to creep further out of the sky and cast the world in a purple twilight hue. The breeze was soft, and welcoming as it tousled the red of her coat, green eyes transfixed on the stone and its peculiar etchings. They were evidently unnatural in their uniformity, and moss had swallowed up some of the shapes.

It was enthralling, inexplicably. Fallow was not a creature like these Luperci – she’d no education, possessed no literacy, and yet; This had to mean something profound. It had to. Why else create something so permanent? Why change the world in such a stark, lasting way? It was not something that she herself had thought capable – and yet, here was testament to some bygone time.

Lips parted a moment, as though she were about to ask something, as she often did in these moments of silent repose or recourse, and blinked to turn her head over her shoulder -

Yet, like so often before, there was nothing there, and no one. Where Staghorn perhaps would enlighten her with his own take on the matter, and re-ground her to the present, there was no such luxury now, and, with a moment long of her skimming the blooms and the brambles, she closed her mouth again, and turned her gaze back to the boulder.

OOC: Open for one! <: technically kinda on the cusp of rabbit lake and shiloh hills
Daylight turned into nighttime, turned into daytime, and so on.

The comfort of knowing she and the boys had other allies was justification for her waddling walk just that morning. Full. When was the last time she had ever said she was full? Two years, eight months and twenty days ago, to be exact.

Happening upon another animal wasn’t unlike anything, yet the four legged dog creature simply tilted a head towards this other… Lupus creature. It was staring at a Boulder, words etched into it that Harley couldn’t make out. From her scent she could tell she was alone. Harley smelled of the boys, it was comforting to her to say the least. Another smell upon her could mean danger.

Tilting her head to the left she let out a little whine, alerting her to her presence. Even though she whined, her tail— what was left of the bobbing object— remained raised like a flag.

What are you doing?
WORD COUNT -
Harley is in Lupus form, Priscilla isn’t with her for now
A voice drew her from her speculating, and Fallow twisted her head over a shoulder towards the stranger that approached, looking just as perplexed as she felt, her pink tongue darted out over her lips in a moment of appeasement, and her gaze did not linger long on the other, slowly growing more accustomed to the curious nature of strangers around her.

Provided they did not harbor a two-legged stance, they had all seemed friendly enough here. Her own tail gave a few stilted wags as she turned her gaze back towards the rock.

”Looking at this,” she stated, her nose twitching. ”Wondering what it means.”

She had not meant to get introspective. Often times, she had kept these thoughts subdued and at bay – easy to ignore – but loneliness brought the worst of her wandering thoughts out and into the light where she could not push them away. Her whiskers bristled forward a moment, and she moved to stand slowly, only to stretch her front limbs forward, and follow through the motion as she craned onto her forelimbs with her back legs fully extended, and she yawned.

”It’s probably nothing, right? Just like, scratchings.”

She figured it was best to hide sentiment.

OOC: fallow: I can't read
How could she react as anything but hospitable now? Harley's smaller bobbed tail-- once raised like a flag-- began to wag a bit, her ears dropping a fraction as this other had her full alertness.

Aquamarine orbs shifted to the drawing, it had scribbles and what looked to be fading words from another Lupreci. Drawing her eyes to now be on Fallow, Harley scrunched a nose and her lips pursed in stoicism. Calculating the amount of pushing it would take before someone's temper forced the other to react.

"Dunno." A rather jaded response. Clearing her throat, she wet her lips. "Looks like a Lupreci's handiwork." Did this mean thise femme wasn't Lupreci? Anyone who was a Lupreci knew in their optime form they learned to read and to write.. Harley had been taught long ago,, but preferred the more feral form. Wait a second--

Lifting her nose, she flared her nostrils and ducked in the others scents. "You aren't a Lupreci." Surprise was etched into her tone, rather than cynicism or judgment. Eyes slightly squinted once she met her green ones, two paws stepped a little closer. "Where are you from?" The female seemed older than Harley, or perhaps, that was simply wishful thinking. 

Careful to remain placid, expression kept neutral. Not hopeful, or interested. 
WORD COUNT -
Harley is in Lupus form, Priscilla isn’t with her for now
[/b]
Fallow had let her green eyes flitter over to the speckled wolfdog alongside her. By all means, the woman had looked exotic – with her bob tail, her bent ears, her spots; these qualities were not things the non-luperci had seen much of back home. The world at large hid a few of these odd-colored gems, however, as she was growing to know, and part of her had felt wounded at her own garden-variety appearance.

However, as she spoke, Fallow’s imperturbable comfort waned. This woman held a great deal of questions, and needled the wolf relentlessly with her observation, prompting the red canine’s ears to fold back, whiskers bristling and hackles giving an uncertain lift as her tail dropped stiffly against the back of her legs.

”I am not, no,” she answered. Part of her had felt as though she were being accused, as though she were on trial yet again for her allegiances and unspoken loyalties. Her lips pursed into a tight line. Cast out as she had been, Fallow was still reluctant to over-share her origins out of her programmed sense of duty to protect a populace untouched by this unfeeling and frightening world.

”Far north.”

She did not divulge more, as it was unnecessary; This stranger, with her unreadable expression, gingerly stepped across her boundaries, and Fallow found herself wondering. Was this a trap, somehow? Did she know more than she was letting on? Was this a test? A beat of tense silence passed as the duo seemed to size one another up, and Fallow spoke again.

”Where are you from?” she countered firmly, not dropping her suspicious stance, the pretense of her wistfulness abandoned.

OOC: gorl you bein' SUS
A small smile curved at the base of her lips, barely notable.

"That's cool. I stay in my four-legged form." Admitted too freely, Harley bounced on her paws a bit, and then hesitated, before staring into the somewhat older females eyes.

Far north? How interesting. Harley's own demeanor became somewhat less combative, grounding herself a bit more, and folding the one perked ear backwards. This female seemed somewhat isolated, without much interactions.

"East." She stated simply, the clicked her teeth before saying; "I found a new place to call home though. Not too far south west from here. Or..." she wrinkled her nostrils, "At least I think so." Shaking her fur around her neck, the speckled dog woman shifted again, on her paws.

"I'm Harley." A glance at her empty side, she waited a heartbeat before glancing back with solemn in her eyes. On a normal day she would have introduced Priscilla. But not today. It felt empty without her. The Fisher always came back though. Always.
WORD COUNT -
Harley is in Lupus form, Priscilla isn’t with her for now