Anything you can be, I can be greater

Dahlia | Wabanaki Coast

POSTED: Tue Jan 08, 2019 9:35 pm

Optime | Wabanaki Coast; midday | NPCs: Glade & Brimstone (+585)

U stinky, ‘yote

She could have picked a better day to scout out the areas beyond the Vale. Snow fell softly around them, slowly covering the land in a fresh blanket and erasing footprints and masking scents. It deafened the world, though, so too, could it be said that not many creatures were out and about either. Many—especially lesser creatures—might have sought a warm, sheltered place to wait out the weather, not Ragna though.

Her time with Boreas had taught her to take advantage of such mild inconveniences. Too easy it was for Luperci to become complacent during such times. The mentality of “if I won’t do anything, neither will my enemy,” was one that she had once heavily relied on. It was easier to spy, easier to set up a trap, easier to gain the advantage when her target was otherwise preoccupied with other things, like staying warm or otherwise trying to not be miserable.

Such were times of the past though.

The Vale had no enemies for Ragna to actively deal with, only fun and games in the form of a costume party some days away. Her work outside the pack’s boundaries that day was not to kill, not to apprehend. She was gathering information, but of a rather mundane variety compared to what she done with Boreas.

Trails. She searched for viable routes to take for when she—and likely others of the Vale—would make the trek towards this southeastern pack that called themselves Cour des Miracles. Though the route across the rocky land bridge that split Fundy was rumored to be faster to get to the peninsula, no amount of orders or bribery could have made her make the crossing on foot. Not during this time of year. Not when the waters were frigid and could easily sap the energy from and drown even the most athletic and healthiest of Luperci. She’d rather take the extra time and keep her life than risk it all for a slow and icy death.

So, there she sat atop her dark steed, in the middle of a well-worn trail through the forested terrain of the Wabanaki Coastline. The scout had a map spread out between her hands, her glacier eyes searching its crude lines and notable landmarks scrawled across it. She wore a deerskin, hooded cloak about her shoulders, and had done well to pull the hood up to help thwart off the snow. Upon her person, she had her usual set of weaponry with her too; her knives and her bow and its quiver, as her experience as a soldier of Boreas made her rue to be without anything to protect herself with when out in neutral lands.

On her lap, protected from the falling snow around them with her partially hunched over figure, sat Glade. He, too, looked over the map in her hands. “What bout here?” The marten asked, patting his little hand upon the map. The area he had pointed out was closer to Mount Oromocto. “Think trails better there?”

Ragna let out a soft huff. “I doubt it. The terrain would only get steeper. Our best bet may be to just stick to the lowlands.” She shifted a bit in the saddle before she placed a delicate claw onto the thick material, tracing out a rough trail with her finger.

Glade looked up at her as if confused by her judgement. “But open?”

“Tch,” she clicked her teeth, “We won’t need to hide, Glade.”

Ragna Eklund

Mistfell Vale
Whalstray (NPC)
User avatar
Songbird
Luperci Scout II
Do not go gentle
into that good night

POSTED: Wed Jan 09, 2019 11:54 pm

Innocence, once lost, can never be regained
Darkness, once gazed upon, can never be lost

OOC: Sooner or later, I'm greater than you. You stinky woof. +400 words.

Dahlia had learned her pathing well, she had to for the trips she made back and forth between Salsola and the Cartel. At first, there had been some trouble keeping up with the movement of the coyotes, having taken to moving from their previous home in the Dampwoods to a place closer to the destroyed Freetown. It made sense, branching out to get away from the other packs. Inferni had always been a clan known to keep to themselves, and it was the closeness to Salsola that had forced the decision to move over the mountain. No doubt something similar had gone into the decision to move further north and west.

The gray coyote had done her best to make sure she was making good use of her time, getting to and from the place in one day. It took hours on foot, but it was still in one day. Her horse was not ready to make the journey along with her, as she still had to work on her own riding skills before then. There was no point in risking herself and the animal's temper during the middle of winter.

Dahlia pulled her jacket over her shoulders, winter's chill biting into her. How she longed for the fires of home and the warmth of the other coyotes. Even though she helped in raising her niece and nephew, she was not welcome in Coaxoch's home to stay. That was fine, as she had never wanted to impose on his space.. though it was a bit lonely without having Faith around anymore.. or Hope.. or anyone really..

How she really wished though that she had something warmer to wear for this time of the year. Her style of clothing was really starting to bite her in the ass.

The coyote's head moved up, coming to the point in her trail when she had to make a turn towards the north. She had caught the scent of the new pack that had settled down in this area, which forced her to go around it to get to where she was going. Green gaze focused on the woman on the back of her horse. She was clearly a wolf, those that most Inferni members knew to avoid. Even if it was coyote, she had somewhere to be, and she did not know who this was.

Still, Dahlia moved cautiously, one hand near her waist for a knife she carried along her person. One could never be too sure when out on their own.

Dahlia Winthrop

Del Cenere Gang
El Probado
User avatar
Salena
Luperci Mate to Boone Chaos Star You have to love yourself a fire

POSTED: Sun Jan 20, 2019 10:43 pm

NPCs: Glade & Brimstone (+566)

I’m so glad you knew the rest of that song xD

“Still don’t like.” The marten murmured.

Ragna grunted and folded the map back up. “Hnn. You don’t have to like it. It’s the safest route for the others.” She highly doubted many—or perhaps any, if she was being pessimistic about it—from the Vale would have seen the reason behind a more covert route. Mistfell Vale was without enemies, and, thus, without any reason for them to hide their presence within an area. So, why take a more complex route if they didn’t have to?

She twisted in the saddle, replacing the map back into one of Brimstone’s saddle bags. It was then that she felt it, felt that familiar feeling of another’s eyes upon her. As a scout in Boreas, she had learned to heed that instinctual warning well. Ignoring it could have easily meant being on the receiving end of a Scintilla coyote’s teeth or the target of a well-aimed arrow. Even as far away from those chaotic fighting grounds of her younger years as she was, there were plenty within the realm that might have still been her enemy.

Salsola was not so far to not be considered a threat, and who knew how many of those wolf-hating zealots scavenged the neutral territories now that their home had disappeared?

Slowly, her glacier eyes roved over the snow-covered landscape. They searched amongst the dead colors that made up the season that was winter, searched for something, anything that didn’t belong. The light snowfall would have aided in dampening the sound of careful footfalls, and Ragna was not about to let herself and her companions become the hunted. She reached for her bow, feeling the need to be armed for combat should she need to defend her group.

Feeling the sudden shift in her aura—the way her body grew rigid and how she had become deathly quiet—Glade understood that there might be trouble afoot. He clambered up her vest, wormed his way between her shemagh and hood of her cloak. Beady eyes stared out into the frigid terrain. Having been with the Eklund for as long as he had, he understood the signs of her trying to find something or someone.

A quick but thorough search found Ragna’s judgement to be sound. Hues of warm, rosy grey swathed in a vibrant red caught her eye, and Ragna turned Brimstone towards the figure with her knees. It was a woman, from the looks of it, and she looked about as friendly as the Mistwalker probably did in that moment. One hand hovered near her waist, an action the ex-soldier recognized as a silent threat of a weapon to be drawn. It was likely a knife, as anything larger would have been more visible and obvious.

The blaze that marked many of the coyote kind shined like a bright beacon across the top of her snout, and Ragna had a sour taste upon her tongue as she put together the entirety of what she saw.

“You picked a poor choice of targets if you’re looking to rob me, scavenger,” she snarled, reaching fully for her bow now and another for an arrow. Sensing Ragna’s aggressive energy, Brimstone snorted and tossed his head, pawing at the ground as he stared down the opposing Luperci. He had run down coyotes before.

Ragna Eklund

Mistfell Vale
Whalstray (NPC)
User avatar
Songbird
Luperci Scout II
Do not go gentle
into that good night

POSTED: Wed Jan 23, 2019 11:58 am

Innocence, once lost, can never be regained
Darkness, once gazed upon, can never be lost

OOC: It's a fitting song for this thread. +300 words.

Dahlia was not around in the time of the Boreas event, having only been young when Salsola started their war with Inferni. She knew not of these wolves and of the glory the two enemy packs once held in order to drive them away. Even so, it was clear what many thought of those within the clan. It was so easy to understand why this band of coyotes hated wolves so much, why they would decorate their borders with skulls as a warning, why they sought to find a land of their own that was so far away from them after the blaze died down.

She heard enough of their comments when she was in Salsola, and she didn't need to hear it outside the kingdom's borders as well. Then again, it gave her all the more reason to be drawn into the Cartel. At least they accepted her and held her same values on these luperci.

The coyote rolled her eyes, standing up a bit straighter, though her hand remained at her side. It was clear the other woman was reaching for her own weapon, the horse she was riding bracing himself for a move against her. If she wasn't careful, then she may very well have to crawl her way to the Cartel or back home an injured mess. A snort passed through her nose, tail giving an annoyed flick, "Do all you wolves have such a black and white outlook that you think every single coyote is out to get you. I was just looking to pass by and instead you decided to instigate an argument with me. I'm not the one in the wrong here."

Sweet words would only be able to get her so far, and while she was no expert fighter, she could fight on instinct. The only problem would be trying to deal with the horse if it came into play. She gave another flick of her tail, "So, unless you want this to get ugly, I suggest taking your hand away from your weapon and getting your horse to turn its head the other way."

Dahlia Winthrop

Del Cenere Gang
El Probado
User avatar
Salena
Luperci Mate to Boone Chaos Star You have to love yourself a fire

POSTED: Sat Feb 02, 2019 11:16 pm

NPCs: Glade & Brimstone (+514)

Welp, I guess we can end this soon? xDD I tried to think of a way to make this continue, but, Ragna made this difficult :x

The rosy-hued thing rolled her eyes and had the audacity to act like she had any power there. She looked young, and this was perhaps what drove her arrogance. But, who did this teenager think she was? Armed with nothing but a knife? Thinking she could intimidate a seasoned soldier atop an equally seasoned warhorse? The odds were not in the coyote’s favor no matter how many ways the situation was split. Ragna could have laughed that this girl thought anything otherwise.

Her lips twisted, continuing to show her teeth as she spoke, “Thank you, pot, for reminding this kettle that it’s black.” She found it hard to see how she was in the wrong when the coyote had done much of the same, putting a hand upon her weapon before Ragna had even acknowledged her presence. The other could have simply denied being there to rob the Mistwalker, but, instead, she chose to argue and accuse right back. Was this coyote one of those Infernians? She wondered. One of those that thought themselves better than wolves and thought it good sport to put the heads of their victims on spikes in a macabre display along the length of their borders?

“But when you’ve been attacked unprovoked by so many of your kind though, it’s hard to not assume the worst out of your lot.” Glade shrunk a bit in her hood, recognizing that things might get ugly if the stranger decided to escalate things further. The marten had never thought very highly of coyotes either after what they had done to his mother and brothers, but, his dislike for the species felt small against Ragna’s hatred.

Ragna snorted at the demand made by the coyote. “That’s awful big talk for someone only armed with, what?” Her glacier eyes flicked to where the female’s hand hovered. “A knife?” She had yet to catch wind of there being any other individuals in the area around them. So, the likelihood that this yearling was alone was high. “I could put an arrow through your breast before you would even become a thorn to scratch at me or my horse with.” At their distance, her arrow stood a greater chance of hitting the coyote than if the younger Luperci decided to toss her only weapon away at Ragna or her companions. If that was the girl’s plan though, so be it. If she didn’t have a weapon on her, it only made mowing her down with Brimstone’s hooves even easier.

“If you’re really only here to pass by as you say, get on with it, coyote.” The Eklund felt confident enough that, should the feisty little thing decide to turn and fight, that Ragna and Brimstone would be able to outmatch her. There was a reason why cavalry were treated as seriously as they were on a battlefield. So, she felt little fear or worry about what potential danger this little inconvenience could cause her. “You go your way, and I’ll continue on mine.”

Ragna Eklund

Mistfell Vale
Whalstray (NPC)
User avatar
Songbird
Luperci Scout II
Do not go gentle
into that good night

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