M - Winter's touch

Shaamah

POSTED: Sun Dec 30, 2018 11:44 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.


Word Count → 400+ :: Moon is wearing the outfit and padded armor in this table image (her pelt is adapted enough to the winter). She'll have Kiss Me with her, a satchel, and her knives strapped to her hip. It's almost as if she expects something.... ;)

This place was nothing but a graveyard now; all of the once large, bright, and sunny flowers having succumbed to the frost weeks ago. Moon Moon had heard of it through word of mouth from some loners… or maybe it was a pack mate or something… so she set out to see it for herself, failing to take into account that all of Souls was covered in a thick blanket of snow. The happy flowers had shed their petals long ago. Heavy heads drooped and let go of their precious seeds in the fall, and now those seeds burrowed into the ground and lie dormant beneath a crust of frost until the Spring thaw.

Moon Moon was sad when she saw it.

Ivory ears disappeared into her messy white mane as she looked out upon the field sullenly. There was nothing but dead stalks left; tall brown stems. The dead legacy of a once happy place. Eventually, the migrating animals would trample down what was left of these frozen flowers, and they would recycle themselves into the Earth to become fertilizer for the hidden seeds next season.

Feeling as though she could cry, Moon peered face-to-face with one flower that had not fully wilted to the ground. Its frozen stalk stood above the remnants of the rest, and its wilted brown petals were preserved in ice. A puff of steam billowed from Moon’s nostrils and enveloped the flower for an instant before dissipating into the ozone.

Why’d ya have ta die? she asked the flower, cocking her head to the side. Propping her trusty baseball bat, Kiss Me, against her leg, she lifted a hand and slowly touched the frozen head of the sunflower. It was no fair. Why couldn’t they all be alive and happy?

Even though her finger barely brushed the seeded head, it was just enough to make the brittle stem snap. With a crack, the flower head broke off and tumbled to the ground, and Moon Moon peered down at it at her feet miserably. After a time she bent down and retrieved it, thinking that the seeds might still be good and maybe she could bring their brightness to the Court when it warmed up. Surely someone there would know about these things…

She folded the seed pod away in her satchel and, dejectedly, retrieved Kiss Me and began to wade through the old, dead stalks, heading south.

If I am an angel, paint me with black wings.

Template by Kitty, artwork by Thimele.

Image
Mistfell Vale
Whalstray (NPC)
User avatar
☠ Nukiira ☠
Luperci 2011, 2012, 2018 SoSuWriMo Champ! Thalia and Melpomene Kiss Me
off the deep end

POSTED: Sun Jan 20, 2019 12:27 am

[[Shaamah acts as if he claims loner status; Moon won't be able to tell he's SL. :3 Hes armored to the gills, too: Armor Reference]]

Wide steps brought the soldier across the width of the Pictou, a shimmering glimpse of the ocean on the horizon, glittering with the cast rays of the sun. Just as was his usual within Sapient, he knew not only the edges of the lands needed careful, protective tending, but the neutral zone outside of these lands did as well. A watchful eye was given to those that were close and even Shaamah had taken to Salsola's way. As long as no one saw him within the pack lands, in a way that couldn't be explained, then Shaamah was a loner and had been since Sapient. It was a simple false truth, fortified by the inner workings of Shaamah's mind. It wasn't so much as lie as it would be something unspoken. It made decisions within neutral lands much more simple, when there wasn't a pack at his claim that would suffer the consequences of his actions.

Today, he took the scent of pine and cedar. Strong cover, easily obtained and found throughout. The faintest hint of moss and mud, thanks to the river's far edge covered the last of Salsola's scent upon him. He was as undercover as a beast like him could be.

Atop a hill that cast it's shadow over the Sunflower field below, a sentinel stood tall and surveyed the great expanse of what could be seen. It was a perfect vantage point for Salsola to stand, to watch the unclaimed and untamed land below. A brown sea stood where there was once a vibrant, lemon field of flowers had been, and within the patch of winter's sleep, something moved.

A narrowed, cold gaze fell on the creature that plucked stock from the snow laden field, and the soldier set foot off to approach whoever, or whatever it was. As he neared, the white of the snow, made brilliant by the sun, revealed the outline of clothing. A bipedal one tread here, all too close for Shaamah's patience to let fly free. A soldier's mind twisted, unyielding, within. He had to know who, at least, and from there, a why would suffice. No stranger were welcome to walk so close to Salsola's boundaries, l'est they be passive. He could stop a problem before it began.

All thought of that, however, was held with caution as the woman was revealed. A taste on the breeze. The Court. A familiar scent. Moon Moon Daimachu.

One of Sapient's kind.

Slow and creeping, a shiver traveled up Shaamah's nape. Hackles lifted. The nerves of his damaged eye grew hot and his blood pumped with fire through his veins. There wasn't a drop of trust for their kind within him. As he neared, he was likely seen by the woman who strode through the dead fields, but didn't utter a single word. Warily, his hand found the bladed tekko at his waist. Plucking the weapons from their place, he armed both knuckles. A glistening edge, freshly cared for, protruded from the back of his hand. With a flex, he shifted muscle beneath armor for a readied fit. Moon's weapons were no secret to him, her rang far outstretching his own, and her only highground here.

Low and furious, a growl thundered from Shaamah's throat. The loose fabric from beneath his armor flapped in the passing winds. Leather creaked as he stood rigidly.

She wasn't welcome here. She wasn't welcome in his sight, or in his mind. Nivosus last gift, to her.


600
Show'em the Ol'Razzle Dazzle
Salsola
The Warden
User avatar
Dark
Luperci Mate to Kaeli
War is in My Heart

Dead Topics