A new hope

POSTED: Sun Jun 11, 2017 6:27 pm

For in truth, it's the beginning of an end

Life was a merciless cycle. It offered hope, like the pale rays of sunlight that fleetingly peered through thick clouds only to be swallowed by darkness. Everett's existence had become something similiar. His senses returned, and with each passing day so too did his strength and mental faculties. Perhaps the gods had smiled upon his wretched path, as strangers had taken pity on his broken body and fed, watered and clothed him. Much to his surprise, they had gifted him with a sturdy horse that did not tax his petite frame. Such gratitude would burn forever in his heart. Eventually, his guilt tore him away from their promises of a home and warmth as he hastened after a trail long run cold.

His mind, now awakened from the hold sickness once held over it, was restless. The male's nose seldom left the ground, or else tasted the air frequently for the familiar odour of the lavender-eyed woman. Occasionally Everett would regard his surroundings critically, and decide he had circled this area numerous times. The shack that he had once shared with her had been dubbed a tomb of memories. Everett hovered at the building's perimeter in the hopes that Olivia might have returned to look for him. It was useless. Only his own now stale scent and that of prey and predators alike lingered there.

The absence of the moon in the night sky hinted that a full cycle had turned. The silvery male's search had come to naught. Despite the unwavering hope that Everett harboured in his heart that Olivia could be found, the reality of his efforts held more sway. With a sigh, the male stood from the trunk he had been sat upon and led the stallion, which he had named Percival, in a north-westerly direction. He turned his thoughts toward a promise he still had yet to fulfill. The effervescent figure of Arlen was never far from his thoughts during his arduous trek through memories. A hand swept through his thick mane, freshly styled, as he recalled the agonised face of his friend. The way he had pleaded for him to stay. And how had he responded to his kindness? The man's brow furrowed at the thought of his indiscretion; his plan had to be allowed to follow out first. And yet, he mused, had he not been fortunate enough to meet the kind-hearted souls who had provided for him in his time of need, he could have withered and died.

His footsteps, silenced by a thick carpet of pine needles of undergrowth, quickened as new scents piqued his interest. The darkness of The Dampwoods had served as a pleasing sanctuary away from others, but the time for solitude had passed. Ears twitched at the dull roar of the sea, its scent clung to the woods despite its evident distance from the coast. Everett treaded carefully through the abundant spring growth, lest he tear his fine new attire. Narrow gorges dominated the land as the strong scents of territory markers halted his steps. The gentleman waited a heartbeat, as he allowed his senses to acclimatise to the markers; horse, metal and sea salt. Percival snorted softly at his master's side, one ear perched forward at the promise of meeting others of his kin.

Everett dusted down his waistcoat and fussed with his shirt-sleeves as he stalled for time. He had gone to great pains to ride the stench of sickness from his coat; bathing frequently and scrubbing every inch of his form with lavender scented soap. The thought of being rejected for the carrying the merest hint of illness caused his hand to reach into a pouch at his waist and pop mint leaves into his mouth. He chewed slowly, as he tried to summon the courage to call and quell the anxieties that cautioned him against scrutiny. Finally, the silvery male dipped his head backwards and called for Arlen firstly, and then let his howl carry. To a particularly knowledgeable ear, one can fathom the high doggish notes to his cry that hinted at his husky heritage.

I'm excited for this! My first joining post so poke me if I've made any mistakes. As discussed, could Arlen post next and then leadership?

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Everett Moreau


Art Credit: Skizophrene

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THAT'S IT! ~

POSTED: Mon Jun 12, 2017 3:27 pm

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POSTED: Wed Jun 14, 2017 4:02 pm

OOC - Short, but I figured it would get the ball rolling
[370]


Pale chest heaving, Arlen repeated the attack again and again and again. Repetition was the key here. In a battle, one couldn't think too much, they just had to do. His body had to learn to think for him, Callum had said. So Arlen had to drill it into every fiber of his being it seemed or else suffer the wrath of yet another brutal training session where he left with more bruises and scrapes than he had whole skin.

Mind wandering, he slowly shifted into thoughtless action. His thin blade gleamed brightly in his left hand, the guard wrapped around his thumb rather than his knuckles in the absence of a proper left-handed hilt. The young Stryder had thrown himself into his training, hoping to see extensive progress, yet... It was a far slower battle than he had hoped. His footwork was still shoddy, his form unclean. The boy's ego was taking a beating at the fact that he couldn't perfect this blade within the few months he'd had hands.

Recently, his thoughts had been plagued by the illness that had swept over the area not too long ago. Though it was technically over, everyone could still feel its effects lingering. They had lost livestock and prey, but luckily none of his packmates had been lost to it. Arlen couldn't say the same of his friends outside of his home though. He'd only ever met her once but he still felt her loss keenly, even more when he thought of how her companion must be feeling.

As if fate had destined it, the instant his thoughts drifted to Everett, a high pitched cry hit his ears. Arlen let his blade lower in disbelief for a few moments before he sheathed his sword and began sprinting. He wove between houses, horses, and people who all got in his way. Though Len heard the guard, Howland, call out to him as he ran, he didn't stop. He couldn't stop.

Not one built for endurance, the boy was wheezing and his legs were shaking by the time he finally made it, knees and hands dirtied by several falls along the way. But sure enough, the he was.

"Everett!"

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Kris
Luperci Joker
A Royal Pain

POSTED: Sat Jun 17, 2017 6:48 pm

(+500)

The Sola noted that the gardens appeared particularly lively that summer day. Where Lyris sat beneath the sweeping branches of a maple, the scent of warm dirt and growing things assaulted her nose. The chirping of birds and buzzing of flies' wings would have also impacted her senses, but instead, these noises were mostly drowned out by the rhythmic sounds of the woman's knife peeling wood. She watched the curls of treated pine curve from the blade and fall among the fleshy grass, eyes intent on the shape she urged into the wood to mimic the perfect image of a fine bow.

She had been sitting and working for a small handful of hours now, ever since her Queen and Stable Master duties had been done. This location, where she could lounge in the shade along the edge of the gardens, was a particular favorite because she could enjoy keeping eye on the bustling activity of the Fort while on the outskirts of peace. Of course, the gentle quiet often allowed for too much room for straying thoughts. When these appeared, Lyris shook them off like cobwebs and refocused on her work. It was a therapeutic practice.

The image was only serene for so long, of course, because eventually, a strange call summoned a streak of a reddish boy to flash past her and through the Fort gates in a matter of seconds. Lyris stared after her son's form until it vanished completely, and then she sighed. Her exhaustion at rearing her troublesome children was almost comical, really. Almost. With sudden haste, the mother stood, dropped her bow among the grass, and raced for her horse. She mounted the stallion bareback, and together Kenyon and Lyris thundered out of the Fort in pursuit of Arlen and the stranger's call, leaving Howland looking exasperated at Kingsbury's gates, which he was meant to be guarding.

Despite Arlen's head start, it took only minutes for Lyris to catch up on horseback. She, however, trailed a fair distance behind, where the green-eyed boy could not hear Kenyon's hooves over the ruckus of his less than tactful running and occasional falling. In due time, they reached the scent line. The Candid excitedly shouted a name to the pale stranger who stood on the borders atop his own mount. The single word, however, was all that Lyris allowed to be exchanged in silence. The Sola and her stallion broke through the woods behind Arlen, and with a heavy snort from the horse, the queen urged him to a stop astride her son's panting form. For a moment, the scarred woman said nothing and only dismounted. Her dark eyes flitted from Arlen to the loner and back again before she spoke. "Stranger, this is the territory of Casa di Cavalieri." The mother's expression darkened considerably as she looked back to her son, but an experience in the past encouraged her to keep the majority of the anger from her voice. "Would you care to introduce your friend?"

Lyris Stryder
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Ann
Luperci Mate to Luca Stable Master The Brotherhood: Master of Tooth and Claw 2013, 2015 SoSuWriMo Champ! Stryder
princess cut from marble
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these scars that mark my body?
SILVER & GOLD

POSTED: Sat Jun 24, 2017 5:07 pm

For in truth, it's the beginning of an end

The sound of an approaching figure caught Everett's attention. His ears tilted forward as he inhaled the comforting scents of Arlen. A blur of red answered his call; the youth stumbled toward him and almost tumbled in his excitement to meet him. "Arlen! It is good to see you again." The male chuckled at his friend's eagerness, as a genuine smile touched his lips. How long had it been? Since they had spoken that fated day, since he had laughed, genuinely laughed, with another? He hoped to be able to put such ways aside, for this opportunity could be his new hope to make something anew from the tatters of his life. Curiosity flickered in his cerulean gaze as he examined Arlen - it was evident that the youth's lithe form had gained a layer of solid muscle about his limbs and chest. Everett raised a brow as he noted the physical changes in Arlen. The wolfdog had explained to his silver-touched friend that his pack prided itself on its strength and fortitude in equal measure.

Everett dipped his head and lowered his shoulders. "I apologise for my delay in reaching you. I hope you and yours will accept I intended no ill will by refusing your invitation." The gentleman tipped his head to one side as he noticed the wild tangle of Arlen's hair, or the stains of earth upon his pelt. He was about to ask after his friend's well-being when another figure atop a horse appeared through the trees. His body tensed instinctively as the woman halted her horse by the russet boy. The mount itself was an imposing sight, a heavy draft if he was not mistaken; the rider herself was no less lacking with her collection of scars that marked her face or the fluidity of her muscles as she dismounted.

For a heartbeat, the three luperci were silent. Percival shifted underneath him, as he leaned forwards and shifted from his back. The silver male could feel his spine curl upon itself in an involuntary submissive gesture, his tail was kept low and tucked to one side, while his eyes flicked respectfully between the alabaster woman and Arlen. Everett felt the weight of her stare upon him and met her eyes for a moment as she addressed him. It was the expression in her dark, inscrutable eyes that interested the male as she turned her storm-tossed orbs toward the copper youth and spoke to him in tones of familiarity. A prickling at the back of Everett's neck formed as he glanced from one to the other, and he found his hand rose to hold his horse's reins tightly.

"If I may, madam..." His voice sounded far off, unlike his own. Everett cleared his throat and hooked a clawed digit to pull back the collar of his shirt, allowing the woman to see his exposed throat. It was a gesture of obedience amongst his own people, and he hoped, the meaning he tried to convey would not be lost on the woman. "My name is Everett...Moreau," he paused as he introduced himself, and added her name after his own. The meaning or reason for his pause would be lost on the others he was certain - even Arlen might not remember Olivia's family name. Cerulean eyes stared straight ahead as he continued to speak, occasionally moving to meet the jade ones of his friend warmly, or to ascertain how he was being viewed by the pale woman. "I come here by the invitation of Arlen, whom I believe is one of your own. I wish to join your pack, if you will have me."

608 words Sorry for the wait! ;-;

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Everett Moreau


Art Credit: Skizophrene

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Ketsuki
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POSTED: Wed Jun 28, 2017 12:18 am

[382]

Arlen filled in the gaps with his panting breaths, a single red hand resting on his abdomen in an effort to still it's rocking motion. His ears pricked toward's his friends words, happy to hear his voice after so long. Though he struggled to speak, he grinned broadly in response to Everett's explanation. As he was attempting to catch his breath, the sound of approaching hooves was enough to still his heart.

Oh boy, here comes the fun part! He couldn't help but remember the fiasco that was Raine's introduction to Lyris. If she was that averse to Myra having a friend joining, how would she react to him having invited someone to join and insisting that it would be okay? Oblivious to his mother's true worries, he couldn't help but feel a knot forming in his throat when she turned her sharp eyes towards him. He opened his mouth to answer her but his teeth clacked shut when Everett spoke.

Arlen felt a new sense of respect for his small friend for standing up to Lyris Stryder. While he himself rarely felt any need to truly fear her, he knew that many did. What Everett lacked in strength, it seemed he had in courage. That would do him well in the house of Cavaliers.

Len's tail wagged slightly before he pushed off of the tree he'd been leaning against to stand beside his mother. An observant person would perhaps notice similarities between the two luperci. An observant person could also chalk those similarities to them being of the same species. From Lyris's side, he nodded and smiled encouragingly at Everett every time the man looked his way.

"Yeah, I met him a few months ago out in the woods and then I saw him again when Tea and I were on our way back from Cour de Miracles." He blathered on, ignorant of whether or not his mom actually cared about how or when the met. His big green eyes seemed to grow in excitement, tail never having stopped its furious wagging. Slowly, he raised his hands clasped together as if begging to the new Sola. "He's really nice and he said his old home was pretty similar so he'll fit right in. So, Mama, can he stay with us? Please?"

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Kris
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POSTED: Mon Jul 10, 2017 4:51 pm

(+400)

She wanted to snap at Arlen for being foolish. But she did not.

Every fear she harbored for her children meeting and trusting strangers beyond Casa's reach was boiled down to her shadowed past and recent experiences. Lyris's trust was a currency more valuable than diamonds, and she did not give it out freely. This had, on many occasions, proved efficient; she had avoided toxic relationships and dangerous people by holding her low supply of trust close to her heart. Furthermore, her earlier children had been wounded by giving away too much trust. She wanted to grip Arlen by the shoulders and snap in his face; You cannot trust someone unless you know how to flawlessly fight. Fight, fight, fight. But again, Lyris swallowed these words. Her children would need to learn on their own. She did not want the disaster with Myra to repeat itself.

She was not a cruel mother. She was a fearful one.

While her internal dialouge raged on, completely undetectable behind a well-practiced poker face, Lyris examined the newcomer.

He was a finely built male, and his gestures of submission appealed to the Sola's feral past and upbringing. A flash of his throat lowered her hackles, though her eyes still glittered. When he spoke, his words were well-calculated and polite. Though the half-second pause before speaking his surname tipped Lyris's ear curiously. Hmmm.

The mother was still considering, Kenyon snorting at her shoulder and pawing a feathered hoof at the ground, when her son spoke. The simple fact that Teagan had been with Arlen upon their second meeting of Everett eased her aggression furthermore. Teagan had a fine and mature head on her shoulders and would have mentioned any fears to Lyris. And, besides, Arlen was wearing his pleading eyes again. Lyris glared at her son, though such a look was not uncommon.

Surprisingly, her next words did not bite. They were neutral, neither kind nor aggressive. The mother's evergreen eyes were, however, eternally wary.

"Casa di Cavalieri does not accept simply anyone, sponsor or not." Lyris shot Arlen another look, though it was not particularly negative. "And begging will not help." She lifted a wolfish eyebrow at her son, and then returned her eyes to the loner seeking entrance. " What skills and abilities do you have to offer for the strengthening of our kingdom?" Lyris's hands stroked her horse's nose as she waited keenly for the male's response.

Lyris Stryder
Casa di Cavalieri
DEAD
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Ann
Luperci Mate to Luca Stable Master The Brotherhood: Master of Tooth and Claw 2013, 2015 SoSuWriMo Champ! Stryder
princess cut from marble
smoother than a storm
these scars that mark my body?
SILVER & GOLD

POSTED: Thu Jul 20, 2017 9:27 am

OOC532

The glimmer in his friend's eyes when Everett glanced his way soothed his weariness. He doubted his lack of useful combat skills and delicate physique won the admiration of the alphess. The male fought back the urge to preen himself nervously, and instead thumbed one of his rings absently as he listened to Arlen converse with the unnamed woman. As the youth referred to her as his mother, even Everett's practised stoicism struggled beneath the weight. He barely registered that his friend thought it appropriate to plead for his admission into the pack as though he were a beggar at their gates; the noble quickly reminded himself that this was a fact of his current situation. The woman appeared to empathise with Everett's finer feelings and chided her son for his attempts at supplication.

He felt the weight of her stare upon him, and respectfully met hers briefly before resting his gaze into the woods ahead. "Madam, I feel at a disadvantage. I do not know your name." With that matter neatly wrapped, Everett allowed a silence to fall upon the group as he considered his next words carefully. The male felt it important to dance around his gap in martial abilities by elaborating upon those he did possess. "I quite agree," he nodded in agreement at the alphess' statement. "I may lack the strength of body to be considered an equal to you in matters of might and warfare, but do not be mislead. What I lack in physical prowess I possess in ambition." Images of his recent struggle flickered cruelly in his mind as he continued, "I come here to learn how to arm and defend oneself from harm and in turn, protect that which is dear."

Everett wrapped his arms about his chest, and his ears twitched. As much as the male wanted to trust Arlen that this pack could be his home, he had dreaded this day in equal measure. The male was the target upon which their considerations were fixed, the untouchable, the unseen. It was distressing to be scrutinised once more, but not something he lacked experience in. His palms felt hot upon his skin, and it was tempting to surrender to his doubts until Percival nudged him with his nose. The male smiled at his horse who rumbled low as Everett focused on him. "I am interested in scholarly pursuits, such as reading and writing. If you have need of these skills I would be willing to offer my services. I can also prepare and cook any meat you provide of me, and transform it into a meal fit for an army. If your pack partakes of trading with others, I have some knowledge there as well."

The male paused and smoothed his tongue against the side of his muzzle. Everett needed to slow the flow of his thoughts before he sounded too egotistical, but the woman had queried how he could benefit her pack. "As a craftsman I can produce objects the pack could trade with, or make custom pieces should they be required. Lastly, I have some knack with herbal remedies. It is something I wish to acquire more expertise with, my lady."

It's better to face these kinds of things with a sense of poise and rationality
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Everett Moreau


Art Credit: Skizophrene

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Ketsuki
Luperci
THAT'S IT! ~

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