[M] Slippery When Wet

Ciellen- Halcyon Mountain

POSTED: Sun Feb 02, 2014 12:40 pm

WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.


Marked M just in case. Let me know if anything needs changing! This came out a lot longer than I had expected it to be. xD Dated to 2/15. Time: Midday Weather: Cloudy Location: 2 miles south of Arisiag Shoal (936)

This land seemed full of shifters, and unsurprising fact to the seasoned traveler. Certainly, this became fact the moment she had broke away from her birth lands, from a realm that seemed hidden in the past, full of wolves and coyotes who lived as they had for centuries without complaint, on four paws. That embittered yearling cast out from her home, naive to just how common, present, widespread this accursed illness was. Beyond her home range, largely untouched by the grasp of the disease, many thrived. Yet, they were like her, infected beasts capable of many forms...

Yet, they were unlike her as well. The further east she went, the more prevalent were communities, not worthy of the pack stature, that seemed to praise the horrid form, the two-legged, upright position. It never seemed to stop there, though, as these shameful canines seemed to adopt the ways of the weak, furless beings rumored to have existed during the times of their ancestors. Fixtures of cloth, material adornments, handled tools of metal meant to replace the purpose of claws and teeth, structured settlements that were above ground, shelter for full year purposes... The list only seemed to go on and on. "Advancement" they cried, "progress." They were disillusioned fools, disconnected from their roots for one reason or another.

This land seemed no different than the surrounding area, and the earthy female wanted none of it. She had resolved to hide away from the fools of the land, make a living far from their settlements the best she could before she wandered off to whatever lands called her. She headed south, traveling both day and night relentlessly. Her paws led her to the mountains. An uncommon terrain for her, she was used to solely trekking through the lower regions of the rocky cliffs, passing through rather than settling for any brief period. Now, however, she would roam these outcroppings, until spring, perhaps, where her travels might take her away from this cursed land.

Cautious paws, calloused by constant motion over the years, carried her along the uneven terrain of the mountainside. Gleaming, sickly yellow eyes were locked on the sole deer that tentatively dug at the frozen ground, hoping to unearth any plant hidden under an unforgiving ground. The doe seemed to have been separated from her herd, or abandoned, given her slight limp. She was young, but injured...A perfect meal for a lone wolf to take down and feast upon. Opportunities like this were few and far in between for the earthy female, and she wasn't about to pass up a few meals. Stealthily, she lowered herself to the ground and crept forward. Closer, closer.... Until the distance between them was small, small enough for her lean muscled, ragged body to lunge forth with snapping jaws.

The chase began. Wild, intense, as though the silent earth were sudden shocked back into life by the endless struggle of prey and predator. The deer started and sprang away, weaving between trees. She pursued hungrily, paws smacking the rough, frozen ground, pushing her forward. Jaws snapped near the flank, close but not close enough. Unknowingly, hunter and prey pressed closer and closer to the edge of a small cliff, barreling at full speed. The earthy hunter sprang at the deer, claws ranking down the flank, trying to pull the deer down. The doe struggled, kicked wildly, and escaped, limping heavily as she attempted her get away. A snarl ripped from the starved loner's jaw and the pursuit continued. Onward, onward...

Until, at last, they reached the edge. Cornered, the deer scrambled, but had little means to protect herself, and little energy to try. Sharp yellow eyes locked on the doe's throat, the earthy wolf pressed forward in a crouch, intending to finish the job. The doe foolishly stepped backwards, and a hoof slipped out from under her, losing grip on the ground. The wolf, meanwhile, had started to lunge, realizing too late her mistake. The doe fell backwards, rolling down the cliff side, no more than fifteen feet from the lower ground. The wolf's front paws smacked against the edge, but momentum propelled her body forward, and she too was sent down the slope. Her body smacked against the hard earth and through bushes, until at last, the ground caught up to her and she smacked down with a thud.

Dazed, the canine laid there, panting, allowing awareness to slowly seep into her mind as she began to take into account the scrapes and forming bruises under her fur. Yellow eyes scanned for the doe, and came across a corpse. The deer had suffered the worse fate, her neck snapped from the tumble, her beaten body sprawled out on one side. All was not lost, then. Carefully, the earthy wolf moved the push herself up, only for pain to rise up from under her, and a strangled sound, a mix between help and growl, exited her throat as she fell back. Her left front paw throbbed painfully, the surrounding joint was beginning to swell, and was lacerated, likely from a rock she tumbled past. Foolishness had thusly been paid for, her carelessness having led to her current situation. With more caution, she brought herself up onto three paws, shaking herself off. She limped closer to the body of the doe before sitting down again. By instinct, she ran her tongue tenderly over the throbbing paw, attempting to clean it out as best she could. Earthy ears swiveled for a hint of sound, a presence of any potential threat while she tended to her wounds.

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Lydia, unless otherwise stated, is in her Lupus form.

POSTED: Fri Feb 14, 2014 2:03 am

OOC| Sorry for the wait! I seemed to have jinxed myself when I said I would have more time....woo for rush jobs haha.

IC|

Ciellen had gone back to the coast after he saw the consequences of his neglect. Although Genova's wounds were not directly his fault, he saw himself in the coincidence of their meeting and did not like what was revealed to him. He searched for hours along the rocky shore, wondering if the notes and herbs and everything of his history had gone the way of all else before him, into the wide embrace of the ocean. It wasn't long before the sun deserted him to the repetitive task, and without its guidance he settled among the stony audience to watch the horizon turn dark. When he thought about it, so much of his life was lost to the waves that he might as well be water. He saw the white foam churning through shallow pools and crumbling sand and saw Relaic's eyes, Orfeu's inks, Thubten's pendant tucked away into the deep darkness. He shouldn't have been surprised that when given the chance, the tide would take the remnants of his old life. When would it be his turn?

Gulls awoke him the next morning, their prying beaks pulling at flesh that would not easily yield. He clattered to his feet and broke their gathering, sending them aloft with loud complaints about his deception. No good, they cried, no good! until they were marks in the sky. He rolled the soreness from his shoulders and thought about their words. The line of his dark lips hesitated in a waver, then gradually strengthened into a smile, and he laughed long into the brisk winter wind. "No good!" He laughed, "Of course!"

"You can keep it then, it's yours!" he called to the ocean, throwing his arms out wide. "You have my brother, my past, but you won't have them," He gestured to the land, "You won't have the bleeding souls I will help, the wounds I will patch, the people I will serve until my body fails me. And when it does, you still won't have me. They will have me!" And he laughed again, feeling lighter, a little freer. When his chest burned and all breath was shaken loose, he decided it was time to move on. It was clear to him that what was done was done, and the more he agonized about rectifying mistakes long past, the more mistakes he made. There was only one direction to go now that he had been stripped clean, white as whale bones and shore stones in the summer sun. He did not waste another glance to the wordless waves, although he should have, as his satchel lay stooped beneath the platform he slept on that night.

The mountains greeted the wanderer in misty confusion, unsettled and unfamiliar, though it was his only lead to Genova. He would find her again. His thoughts ran with the things he might say to her, carefully navigating around some central premise that he couldn't entirely grasp. All that he knew was that seeing the marks of her back had stirred something in him, an anger so visceral and so unfamiliar that he was shocked by its intensity. He wanted to be there, with the balms he knew how to make, with the salves and pastes and teas and all the things he should have had for her then. He wanted to ensure that should any mark happen for any reason, his remedy would soothe it until the trembles were those of laughter and settled warmth. There was something he could offer, he would always offer.

But his path would not be direct that day, as it never was. Chaos erupted along the distant hillside and by its erratic sounds, he knew that something was amiss. Emboldened by his new commitments, the wanderer sped after their echo, the thick pads of secui form taking him across the crumbling earth with ease and dexterity. It wasn't long before the situation clarified itself to him. The twisted doe, its legs splayed in unnatural pause, and the wary ward that lay small against its back. She did not seem in good condition, though her success was clear. It was a delicate situation he knew, for two reasons; one being that she was a lone female with a fresh kill, and the other, her staggered movements marked an injury. The wanderer made his way into her periphery with slow and deliberate steps, black nose inquiring, and his head bowed in humility. "Are you well?" He offered gently, once he was in closer range. He paused a few yards away. The smell of blood reached his nose, a mix of doe and wolf. "I am a healer," he explained, "If you will allow it, I can assist you."
Code by Raze     Avatar by San

POSTED: Sat Feb 22, 2014 12:34 pm

It's fine, I apologize for my own lateness in responding. Got sucked into other things.(675)

Her mind was still muddled, numbed from impact. There were far more pressing matters as a result than her current state of mind, though. The injury she sustained on her paw alone was crippling, she knew. She couldn't so much as stand properly with it. She swore under her breath at her own foolishness, her lack of caution, of consideration! An injured loner was as good as a dead loner in her eyes. How would she hunt, how would she feed herself, how would she even protect herself? The blunt answer was obvious: she couldn't. She couldn't do anything like this, and without treatment or a pack to support her, what chance had she in surviving? If a bear were to come out to take her food, she wouldn't be ale to get away or defend the meal. It seemed as though she just managed to sign her own death warrant.

what a pathetic way to go... Not from surviving years upon years of harsh travel, nor in a bloodied frenzy, but from an idiotic mistake made while hunting, one that would lead to either starvation or something finishing the job before nature could. She was raised better than this! She could have avoided this if she had paid attention to where she was leading the deer! She growled to herself rather to anyone in particular, furious. She would die here, yes, because of her own foolishness. She would fight, though. She wasn't about ready to just lay down and wait for the end. No. She, she was Lydia Ancientfire! Formerly known as Lydia Swiftwind, with full-blooded, untouched wolf heritage running through her veins! She hardened herself to her travels, and would be an unforgiving monster of a wolf before she let Death snatch her!

As though Death himself had heard her challenge, the injured female picked up the sound of treading paws. Her head lifted from its lowered position, tongue slipping back in. From the corner of her eye, she could make out the stark whiteness of another pelt. Male, in what looked like the much larger form of the cursed here. Her hackles raised and eyes narrowed. Had he plans on stealing her meal? Though she was injured, she would make sure he thought twice about it. Her lips twitched, threatening to pull back into a snarl. Though, instead of assuming a dominant, challenging posture, he humbly lowered his head as he approached, deliberately moving slowly. Was he mocking her, then? A growl grumbled in her throat, though it was quickly cut off when he began to speak. A stupid question. Well, did she look well?! She wouldn't admit to it, no, but any wolf with eyes would easily be able to see that she certainly wasn't well. Her unruly fur was thinner than it should be, though her ribs didn't quite poke out from under it. Before now, she was as capable a hunter as a loner could be in winter. The raised paw was as good as an indicator as any, if the stench of blood wasn't signal enough.

The stranger continued his approach, slowly but surely, until only a small distance of a few yards separated the two of them. Sickly yellow eyes remained narrowed, focused on him, challenging him to act. Why hesitate, did he wish to prolong this moment before he attempted? He spoke again, and this time, his words caught her off guard. This random male...wanted to help her? Suspicion flooded her face, a scowl formed on her features. Now why would he do that? She hadn't much to give him, other than her food that laid broken beside her. Was he trying to trick her, to get her guard down before he could strike? How could she know this male wasn't trying to con her? "Why should I trust you? Why do you want to 'assist' me?" She nearly growled at him, on the defensive. She remained bristling, glaring, waiting for his response.

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Table by Cait, coding by Sammiie! Avatar by Westy!

Lydia, unless otherwise stated, is in her Lupus form.

POSTED: Sun Mar 16, 2014 9:22 pm

OOC| omg I'm so sorry for this lateness x_o; I have like 10 drafts and I finally settled on this one. I had no idea where I wanted to go, ah!

IC|

His interactions in these lands had been fortuitously gentle thus far, but that had not always been the case. He never knew how many wolves objected to assistance until he began his practice with the monks. He recalled feeling very strange the first time Thubten summoned him to hold a struggling man down so that they could bind his bloody limb, though probably not as strange as he must have felt. On the road, Ciellen was occasionally confronted with spit, insults or violence, a new scar or two to chastise his care. Whether it was the traveler's nature or their affliction that inspired such fear and opposition, Ciellen would not know. Her reaction was one he came to anticipate over the years, and admittedly felt more at ease with despite the pressing circumstances.

"I am sincere, but there's no way for you to confirm that," he laughed. The absurdity of trying to prove his intentions struck him as funny, though he thought it was completely reasonable for her to ask. "I want to help you. That is the only reason." His expression was mild, soft, an open kind that seemed to welcome her distress. He made a slow and deliberate movement to ease back onto his haunches, careful enough so that she could see his actions clearly. There was nothing to hide, and he wanted her to be at ease. White ears faced her, then turned to the wind, while the gentle blue of his eyes calmly assessed her wound from a distance. "I will tell you what I know. Then at least, you will have the knowledge to help yourself." He would not tell her that if she did ask him to leave, he would return with help. He knew of a feral pack in the area from his days with the nomads, and though he did not meet them personally, he imagined they were as kind as their allies.

"From here, all I can see is swelling, which to me indicates at worst a fracture, at best a big bruise. Either way, you will need time and rest to heal. And if it's the worst case scenario, you will not mend well if you don't reinforce the area with something rigid now. Better that we are safe, than sorry." His head turned to scan the area quickly, picking out the distant trees, looking for anything that could be used to create a makeshift splint. Inwardly he chastised himself for being so foolish and self absorbed by leaving his satchel in the first place. He had a hide rope in the bag, he could have -- his gaze snapped back to the fallen doe. His brow creased as the gears of thought turned.

"Your catch has generously supplied you with options." His face seemed to brighten as the resources came to him. What a fortunate young woman, to fall before a healer, a meal and a splint. "We can use these bones, this hide. We could use them to create a support! Here, let's get started. The sooner we have your leg in proper order, the faster we can get you somewhere safe and comfortable." He smiled at her, his lips drawn broad and effortlessly across a pristine row of teeth. He stood up, forgetting himself, and began to shift. Hands would be more helpful to the task, after all.
Code by Raze     Avatar by San

POSTED: Thu Apr 03, 2014 6:20 pm

I'm so sorry, this took me longer to reply to than I had intended it to take. Had part of it written up for the longest time. Aaaand I think this just became my new longest post. Sorry for the unexpected length.(1310)

He laughed at her. How dare this cursed male, this stranger laugh at her! She scowled at his response, though she couldn't provide an argument to his statement. She had no way to discern whether he was sincere or not, regardless of whether he provided a clear answer or not. Still, his response did little to ease her mind. He wished to help for the sake of helping her... To what benefit was that for him? Wasted time, wasted energy, all on a stranger he scarcely knew and would, if she could, gladly chase him off. To her, he was an oddity, one who, if so foolish to make such offers to just anyone, was foolishly lucky to have survived thus far in an indifferent, often brutal, world...

Unless... This was his means of lowering the guards of otherwise helpless, trapped, weakened canines. For whatever purpose he could gain from this was not clear. Perhaps he hoped to make off with her meal and leave her to starve. Ot was the most logical of thoughts. There was the possibility of violence for violence's sake, but he seemed to lack too few visible marks on him to prove to be much of a fighter. Either way, this consideration agitated her. She would not allow herself to so quickly become a victim to more foolishness and stupidity. She eyed him with narrowed, untrusting. He was no better than a pup with a sharp tongue, one that ought to have a nice cuff over the head. Or a vulture circling over the carcass caught and left by another predator. Perhaps he knew this, or perhaps someone had managed to knock some sense into him, as he moved slowly down to his haunches. Hawklike eyes watched his every movement, and remained focused on the larger white male while he assessed her.

His constant attempts to ease her, to just work with her despite how against it she was indicated one of two things: sweet innocence and a bit of naïveté, that of a good, if foolish, heart... Or of the cold precision, calculating and cunning mind of a more survival-focused or malevolent being. Better safe, than sorry, indeed; she would rather keep him at bay than let him near her for any closer an examination. Sickly yellow eyes did gaze sharply at his facial features, the softness in his eyes...

Her mother once spoke to her about eyes. The eyes, they served as reflected pools. The most subtle of motions, of glistens and gleams, could reveal the true intents, the underlying thoughts of a canine... Or so she believed. Her mother claimed it served more accurately than even body language, for a well-intoned soul could control even the smallest twitches to make them near invisible to the eye. Why, eyes meant so much, and held so much power and knowledge, it was, according to her mother's reasoning, the cause of challenging dominance to hold prolonged contact with a superior's eyes.... For the large part of her life, she had ignored what she tossed away as folklore, pup tales and legend. For how often was one on common enough ground to even gaze into the eyes of another to pick out such things?

Bit here, now, she would put a little faith into such words as the white male talked of the possibilities of the extent of her injury. If he saw it as a challenge, he could rightly leave or kill her. At any rate, there seemed little hope for her in her current shape anyway, and if his intentions were truly dark, it may well have been his plan to eliminate her anyway, so what fear should she have at this point? Now, she studied his soft, gentle, caring eyes... She dug and searched and watched for a flicker, for a glance away, for anything that would show deceit or otherwise poor intentions... She could find none... At any rate, what else could she do of he did choose to come over? She could only snap at him a few times before the likelihood of her being overpowered and subdued would be extremely high, in the worst case scenario. She was subjected to whatever it was that nature had tossed at her, and if it proved to be her end, then she would die a fool and rightfully so, for her dimwitted mistake. So, it was with reluctance and more than a fair share of suspicion that she listened... And, if such was the way, allow him nearer, with teeth ready to snap and to fight with her might should he truly prove dangerous. Just because the odds weren't in her favor, didn't mean she wouldn't try to put him in her current disadvantage before her own possible demise.

He swung his head around, and briefly, she wondered if he came with others who had managed to find some way to keep hidden. If she had fallen into a pack's territory, she would have certainly been killed, in her mind. She would prove a weak trespasser, who would have been convicted of hunting on pack land and dispatched without a hitch if a group was gathered. Just as quick as he searched around, did his gaze focus on her doe... She nearly growled at him a second time, but remained silent, scrutinizing him closely, taking in the focused, thoughtful look that crossed his features.

He wanted to use the carcass... For what? His face had brightened, he smiled, he seemed quite pleased by what must have been good fortune, had she believed in such a thing. He talked of a "splint" made from hide and bone, some sort of support. Never before had she heard such jargon, she wasn't sure what to make of it. How precisely would this all help her out? Her medical knowledge was sparse: confined to the use of certain herbs from certain areas for certain things, nothing more complicated than certain gashes and certain illnesses. She knew not how the treatment of more advanced problems worked, had scarcely heard of the use of animal parts to make this so-called "support" for an injured paw. Was he making this all up, or was he to be believed? That was the difficult question that nagged at her mind. For all purposes, he seemed sincere... But she knew him not, he was a faceless stranger without so much as a name... Dare she believe him?

If there was ever a chance of trust, it faded as he made to rise... And shifted. The guard hairs on her back and neck rose up at the sight, and another growl was quick to leave her throat. That! That horrid form! That bane, that screamed of unnatural phenomenon, of those filthy furless weaklings canines were so foolish as to imitate! Oh, if it was bad enough to be found injured by another, it was this. And he wanted to help her. Not this way. Not like THAT. HIS kind was the reason that led to the tainted blood within her, the curse that inevitably led to her current situation. She would have none of it, not around her.

"No," She growled fiercely as she bared her teeth at the shifting, nearly two-legged beast before her. "Do NOT approach me like that, you foolish wolf! You, you betrayer of the natural order!" She had plenty more if he attempted to come closer in such form. How she despised it, those freakish paws with elongated "fingers" and odd-shapes, softened pads... Those horridly disproportional limbs... It was not natural, she disposes it... And feared it. For it was not her familiar. She was not raised to accept this form. She abhorred it, and, as such, abhorred part of who she was herself...

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Lydia, unless otherwise stated, is in her Lupus form.

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