A Cloudy Reflection

For Whither

POSTED: Wed Jun 03, 2020 10:48 pm

Miramichi Valley
⟿ Word Count: 540
⟿ Date: June 3rd
⟿ Time: 1pm-ish
⟿ Form: Optime
⟿ Gear: Outfit, Sword, Travelpack

Sky blue reflected in opulently shined silvery metal as Atlas looked into his own eyes. The shine he had put into Mire’s blade was brilliant. Hours of pleasant work now a mirror showing dreary clouds outlining his own dark muzzle. The sky above threatened with heavy grey clouds and was a large part of his decision to engage this weekly tradition. They would let free rain undoubtedly and soon. His sword needed the oiling and care to make sure it did not begin to rust or fade in the wet weather. It was a beautiful weapon and he would keep it that way as best he could. Deciding the polish was fine enough he carefully began to rub down the blade with a bit of oil and a cloth he kept for just this reason. He would need more oil soon but that wasn’t a worry he allowed for now. The simple work was comforting and atmosphere pleasant where he sat cross-legged in a clearing amongst trees and wilderness. It reminded him of simpler times and a life left behind. It made him ponder about the future and his part in it. The wolfdog let his mind explore these possibilities and questions as he worked the weapon.

Worries filled most of the future and those were what settled in his mind as Atlas’ hands whiled away. Specifically he pondered on his unused skills. Like the blade that would grow dull and ugly with neglect so too would his skills begin to grow clumsy and awkward without some sort of reinforcement. True, somethings he used even in this wilderness. Working hide and practicing sword forms were easy enough chores to use his ample extra time on. It wasn't the same as learning to make better, more complex gear though. Or comparable to the thrill of a true spare against someone as good with a blade or better than he. And what of his smith skills? There seemed to be not a single person in these barbaric lands to teach him the key things he didn’t know. He couldn’t even build a forge. He didn’t know some of the deepest secrets and skills that made a true blacksmith. A sad thought but there might never be a time he would know these things. Here across the great sea there seemed so little of the life he had grown up in. There was no civilized organization in the land as far as he could see. Not a farm. Not a village. It was wild and apposed to folk tails that spoke of magic and brilliant creatures there were only regular, mediocar dangers. No place existed here for such things as a blacksmith he supposed. He would cling to the skills could though. They were who he was.

Atlas finished the oiling and stuffed the various care tools into his pack before standing. With a deep breath he slid his paws apart in the soft grass, blade before him, knees bent, grip firm on the hilt. His strengths could now protect him from the barbaric nature of this place. It could not -no- would not beat him again. He was no longer walking the long road toward a slow death. This place was now something he could fight. With determination and a final moment to clear and center his mind he prepared himself to launch into the battle forms.

POST. “Speech”. Thinking. Intensity.

Flames alight the trees
spread to fallen leaves
now they're right upon me

Template by Kitty, image by Me, Lyrics by Shaed

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Wolfdog
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Atlas
Luperci

POSTED: Sat Jun 06, 2020 9:49 am

There was just something about rain that made Wither so dour.

Not like anyone particularly cared to be caught in the rain, though, so maybe this was the typical amount of angst, given the circumstances. At least she wasn't half as prissy as Fennore and cared more about her precious hair getting wet than anything else. No, for Wither, it was particularly problematic because it made her job of hunting that much more unnecessarily difficult; suppressing smells, washing away tracks, yada yada. Of course, for her part, Fennore never thought about these practical things. It was all about her.

Well, whatever. She wasn't here right now, thank god, so the coymutt could just pout on her own when the bottom eventually fell out.

Two things that made this marginally better: for one, she left her cat at home, so having to comb out all the knots and brambles he would inevitably gain after a good rain was not happening. And for two, the summers were growing stuffy and warm enough to where she didn't need to wear clothes anymore, so those wouldn't get ruined, either. Nope, today, all the wore was the little utility belt that held her knife and her flask, along with other little tools. And her quiver, of course. But that was a given.

But it was proving not to be the most productive of hunting trips. She huffed, bringing her bow back to her side when she misstepped, scaring off the doe. It wouldn't have been a big deal to follow her -- not a colossal inconvenience, anyway -- but a mix of irritation and a bout of laziness held her back.

Oh, well. Wither Rose wandered for a bit longer, entertaining the idea of just heading back home and calling it a day, before she noticed something just there beyond the trees.

It wasn't prey, though. Pretty far from it, actually, because she caught the glint of a blade -- so she kept her hold steady on the bow all the same in case they proved to be a tad trigger-happy themselves.

She wuffed lowly, making herself known; there was no reason to pussyfoot around it. "What'cha up to, fella?" she asked, amicably enough, with a wry smile.

• • •

thanks for starting!
[+300]

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POSTED: Mon Jun 08, 2020 9:48 pm

Anytime!
⟿ Word Count: 450
⟿ Date: June 3rd
⟿ Time: 1pm-ish
⟿ Form: Optime
⟿ Gear: Outfit, Sword, Travelpack

A drop of water so small it was barely a sensation pricked the end of Atlas’ nose. This was what made him initially pause and wonder if it were pertinent to train now. The oiling would do no good if he let it rinse free in a rainstorm. It wasn’t a storm yet… but the decision was made final by the approach of a stranger. She didn’t hide her intrusion on his little clearing but Atlas still let his first look fall on her with caution, his blade held at his side for a moment as he eyed her.

Before him stood a rather pleasant looking canine though it was only after he took stock of what danger she might pose that he noticed this. The weapon in her claws made his ears want to lay back but he kept them forward intentionally. It was not his way to show submission or fear in the face of strangers. Besides, if she intended to put an arrow in him that arrow would have likely found its mark well before now. It was a discomforting logic but true enough that the male slid his blade back into its scabbard in a practiced motion. She was quite free of clothing too, a fact that would have once made the male redirect his gaze politely. It was too common to be shocking any longer but the fact did gnaw at the back of his mind as he looked into the pale eyes she bared him. Nothing hostile in those either but her tone and wry smile garnered a curiously arched eyebrow from the male. “Blade maintenance,” he answered a little bluntly. Months of near solitude and other interactions with canines of this area had turned him a bit mistrusting of strangers and he tried to be conscious of that. Not every stranger deserved a cold reception. They weren’t all bad. Just most of them.

A few tell-tail pricks at his fur announced more little droplets beginning to fall from the grey above. Idly Atlas wondered what an archer was doing out when rain was so clearly on the way. He knew little of how to shoot a bow but caring for one was different. Moisture was bad for the string and the wood itself if not treated correctly (something he doubted a creature on this side of the great sea knew much about). Irresponsible use of a weapon was another mark of disapproval for the streaking stranger but he tried to keep it off his muzzle as he stood a little straighter. He looked slightly downward at the shorter female and addressed her, “Who wants to know?” Atlas didn’t let suspicion into his gaze exactly but his flat tone might have been enough to indicate as much.

POST. “Speech”. Thinking. Intensity.

Flames alight the trees
spread to fallen leaves
now they're right upon me

Template by Kitty, image by Me, Lyrics by Shaed

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Wolfdog
User avatar
Atlas
Luperci

POSTED: Tue Jun 16, 2020 7:08 pm

He turned, and Wither caught sight of those pretty blue eyes -- a weakness of hers, for sure, but not enough of one to have her swooning or letting down her guard. A fat raindrop fell on her cheek, causing her to cringe a little, and she knew that the rest of the clouds were sure to follow.

Seemed kind of a waste to be knee-deep in blade maintenance if the rain was just going to wash it all away, but hey, it was his business.

The coymutt cocked her head, ears flicking at his deadpan voice, but she decided to humor him. For now. "I reckon I do," she returned, her own tone halfway between being amused and sarcastic, before she shifted her hold on the bow.

"I'm Wither Rose." She had no problem handing her name out to strangers; she was well-aware how capable she was of handling herself. Besides, right now her focus was more on the trouble brewing in the sky and how the floodgates were very likely about to open up on them. They might could hunker down under a tree, but that wouldn't do a whole lot of good. Maybe there were some little caves or dens around here? Or an outcrop or something.

"You got any genius plans for ducking out of the rain, by chance? I'm not in love with the idea of getting washed away out here." It was worth a shot asking.

• • •


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POSTED: Wed Jun 17, 2020 1:05 am

OOC
⟿ Word Count: 410
⟿ Date: June 8th
⟿ Time: 8pm-ish
⟿ Form: Optime
⟿ Gear: Outfit, Sword, Travelpack

A low rumble of thunder rolled across the clearing on the tail end of Wither’s question. The sass in her tone went unchallenged. If she wanted him to know she was brave it worked. Bravery was one thing but being foolhardy was another. She toed the line well enough for now. The rain in these lands was cold anyway, not unlike the rain in Atlas’ memories. It would be better to get out of it even if his cloak could repel the water for a time. Perhaps she knew a bit more about her weapon than he had given her credit for too.

If they could find something roomy to take cover in it would be alright. Something really, really roomy. The brief memory of a tiny, dilapidated cabin hidden in the trees somewhere nearby made the fur on Atlas’ back prickle ever so slightly. Where had that been? It wouldn’t do. Too small. So with a shrug he deftly lied right to the stranger’s pretty face, “Not really. Just trees for miles around.” Bowing had been how he had been taught to greet other canine’s while in optime form so bow he did. It was shallow but respectful and the male had to keep himself from being annoyed by its lack of reciprocation in any form. That was just the way of these people and their customs it seemed. "I’m Atlas Starski.”

After finishing the short bow Atlas took a few steps toward the forest in a direction that took him a bit closer to Wither. He tried to keep the distance polite but they did end up close enough that if she decided to get crazy he could strike back at the edge of his swing ark. Better safe than sorry. His right and left claws then came up in a gentle, sweeping gesture toward the forest as he spoke neutrally, "I’ll help you look, if you like, Ms. Rose. Practicing in the rain would undo all my work anyway." His intention was to match her in step and pace. It would be nice to get some information about the land and people herein. Who better to ask than a local? His suspicion had melted away somewhat thanks to something honest that seemed to hide in those pale eyes. Atlas’ mind nagged that she might still be dangerous despite her lack of hostility but within his attack range he was confident he could easily out match her so long as he didn’t let his guard down.

Flames alight the trees
spread to fallen leaves
now they're right upon me

Template by Kitty, image by Me, Lyrics by Shaed

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Wolfdog
User avatar
Atlas
Luperci

POSTED: Fri Jun 26, 2020 12:09 pm

Ms. Rose was a new one, one that she felt was a bit too prissy; one she might've corrected in any other circumstance, but considering she and Atlas were about to be rained on mercilessly, she reckoned there were bigger fish to fry.

The little bow was... strange, and she desperately hoped that he was not stuck-up or obsessed with diplomatic airs like someone else she knew. He was probably just being polite, right? She'd give him the benefit of the doubt. First impressions weren't everything.

Looked as though they were in this together, at least until the storm blew over.

She reached around to strap the bow against her back again, and she huffed through her nose as she glanced around the wood. "Fair enough. C'mon, then. Between the two of us we'll probably find something." Her words were softer now, a more gentle sort of suggestion rather than a command, and she gave him another crooked grin before padding off.

Her eyes scanned the area as they walked along, though there was an obvious pep in her step. Maybe they could still beat the rain. Only if something popped out at her in the next few-ish minutes, anyway.

"You from around here, Atlas?" she asked, looking back over her shoulder for just a moment before sweeping her gaze across the trees again. "I don't see a whole lotta swords in this neck of the woods."

• • •


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Northern Tides