you hold the line that holds my heart

oscar

POSTED: Tue Jan 08, 2019 6:36 pm

backdated to lateish December! 310

The argument with Bramble had soured her mood, this was evident as mismatched hands pulled aggressively at the straps of her saddlebags. There was little to repack, Saga hadn't intended to stay near the Shoal for longer than it took to get her information and was therefore underprepared to spend a night camping on the outskirts of a place "where she was not welcome". Dourly, she supposed that had she bothered to complain to someone, the warrior's decision may not have stood. In the end, she hadn't been in the mood for debate and had found a dry (as dry as she could find in this weather at least) spot to construct a fire and lay down some ground cover. If she hadn't needed the information so much, she'd likely have travelled back to the Vale immediately after, but what she needed to know she needed to know in the most vital of fashions and she wasn't going to leave without it. Someone else would find her when she called in the morning, she supposed, and she could ask them.

The fire didn't let off much heat or light, which was fine considering that Saga wasn't particularly cold nor was the lack of light proving problematic for her. It was gradually getting dark, inch by inch the sun seemed to drop below the horizon, causing the sky to light up in spectacular shades of reds, oranges and pinks. Verdant eyes watch this phenomenon with half-hearted interest, too frustrated to be able to find any real enjoyment out of it. In the cold night, when it came around, she entertained the idea of calling for Oscar. In the dark, she'd found herself terribly lonely and it wasn't long before she actually gave into the temptation and let out a call.
Last edited by Saga D'Angelo on Thu Jan 10, 2019 6:48 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Saga D'Angelo
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POSTED: Thu Jan 10, 2019 12:21 am

ooc - <3

Oscar

The night that light as bright as the sun shone during the darkest hour of the evening, the night that thick black clouds of smoke concealed the stars, Krokar’s spirit perished. And with it, a piece of Oscar Morelli’s heart. The ex Wayfarer had no time to grieve the loss of his childhood home when he returned to the defunct Pack’s old haunts, finding that the barren, ash coated lands resemble nothing of the livelihood Krokar once boasted. Yet he found himself unable to shed a single tear, instead feeling nothing but numbness as he tried to pick up the pieces of Krokar. Failed to pick up the pieces.

Good livestock was lost, and his old packmates soon dispersed across the land. Most discouraging of all, his uncle and little cousin went missing amidst the chaos of the fire. As the representative of Krokar’s defensive tier, Oscar had failed them. He had failed all his packmates. Had he been on watch that night, instead of tucked away to bed, he could have stopped the wretched arsonist. Had he come to Eliza’s aid, instead of focusing all his attention on the horses, maybe he could have kept an eye on Milos and Daisy for her. Maybe they would be present in the Shoal tonight, and he could look his auntie in the eye.

But that wasn’t the case, was it?

The Shoal, the remnants of the Cormier-Parhelion household, was something that the Morelli probably needed in his life. But at the same time, they were a constant reminder of his shortcomings. He couldn’t help but feel that he had no business being there, revelling in his family’s pain when there was nothing in his power that he could do to ease it. Every day Oscar found himself saddling his mare and straying further and further from the Shoal’s base camp in St. John’s chokehold. Maybe one day he wouldn’t return.

It was the call of someone familiar, someone whose memory did not stir an ache in his heart, but rather brought a smile to his features, that drew him back home this particular evening. Digging his heels into the palomino’s sides, Oscar and Adeline practically flew over the marshy terrain to meet the caller. Saga D’Angelo did not set up camp in St. John’s like Oscar initially suspected, but just outside of the Shoal’s range. It didn’t come as a surprise to the Morelli that other Packs would be sniffing about after Krokar’s abrupt disbandment, searching for answers.

But he was mighty glad that it was the Starkhelm herself who volunteered herself for that task.

”Miss Saga.” Oscar breathed, drawing Adeline to a halt. Even in the weak firelight, the woman’s green gaze pierced sharp and clear. Just as always, her eyes resembled the clearest of sea glass. The wiry haired male dismounted, approaching the D’Angelo on foot.

”Aren’t ya a bit chilly in ‘is weather?” Oscar questioned, resisting the urge to chuckle as he surveyed Saga’s campfire. Kneeling besides the fire, the Morelli cupped his hands and blew, attempting to coax the flames to reach a little higher.

wc 518

POSTED: Thu Jan 10, 2019 11:38 am

<3<3 these two are too cute 504

The steady beat of hooves drummed out into the still night and it wasn't long before Saga caught sight of a familiar face riding a familiar steed. She felt so small, even from a distance, her slight framed dwarfed by the heavy-bodied mare and the shaggy dog who sat atop her. He was quick to dismount and slow to question why she'd turned up upon the borders, or lack thereof, of his new home. Perhaps he already knew. Perhaps he didn't care. The young Starkhelm merely hoped that he was as glad to see her as she was to see him. Her heart fluttered in a manner she was not accustomed to as he greeted her and she smiled, as she rarely did. It was a wide smile, genuine and as rare as a blue moon, a smile only for her would-be suitor. Selfishly she wished she could have stoled him away to Mistfell Vale, but she doubted her siren son would have been enough to pry him from the embrace of his family unit. She would have felt too guilty doing so anyway. Despite the fact she had no family, not in the same sense as he did, she knew the strength of the ties that bound them and respected them enough not to trifle with them.

He'd needed no further invitation to join her and he made his understanding of that well known as he knelt beside the fire and made a sterling attempt to coax life into the small campfire. Was she cold? 'No.' she replied softly. If she had been before, she certainly wasn't now with the Shoalman in such close quarters. Mismatched hands searched for the half-empty saddlebags, blind in the dark and by the shadow of the trees. Eventually, she found what she was looking for and slender digits produced a small bottle of berry wine. Baelish had given it to her a while ago and since she was not much of a drinker, she'd squirrelled it away for safekeeping and had only decided to bring it with her on the basis that it was light fare that would keep her full on the journey back from the Shoal (she'd used up her water on the outward journey).

'Not now you're here to fix that fire, at least.' Saga smirked, holding out the bottle towards Oscar. She had dried meat somewhere in the saddlebag too, though she figured that it would make for a weak offering compared to the berry wine so she kept it where it was. Moments passed by that were full of the joy of good company, the D'Angelo woman basked in the warmth both literally and metaphorically and yet it still seemed that the moments were just that, fleeting seconds of time. Before long her mind drifted to the reason she'd even turned up on his doorstep and a soft sigh was closely followed by a question.

'How've you been?'
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POSTED: Mon Jan 21, 2019 10:35 am

Oscar

It was amazing, how Saga still took his breath away after all this time. Perhaps this was because, as the old saying went, distance made the heart grow fonder. Nah, Oscar shook his head to himself with a brief smile. It was something more. While he himself might have looked worn out from the recent events, Saga remained as radiant as ever.

Oscar recalled the first time Saga had met Adeline, and how she had been wary of the mare. Now she rejoiced warmly at the sight of the golden steed and her shaggy haired rider. Adeline whickered softly, her warm breath exhaling a visible puff in the cold air. ”Naw, really?” Oscar teased at Saga’s reply as he continued poking the fire ”Ya made of sterner stuff than I am! Coulda’ sworn my whiskers froze when ay’ woke up ‘is mornin’!” Finally content with the modest flame, the dog allowed himself to relax and lean back from the fire.

The Starkhelm’s emerald eyes glowed in the firelight as she searched through her saddlebags. As she withdrew a slender bottle, the Morelli inadvertently sucked in a breath. It had been close to a year since the last time Oscar had taken a sip from the devil’s juice. After the grief his drinking had caused Krokar, the man had sworn off the drink, much like his father before him. But there was no more Krokar, and his family was scattered far and wide. All there was now was himself, a pretty lady, and a bottle.

”Oh yeah?” The woman’s cheeky reply drove him out of his thoughts, and a goofy grin returned to the Morelli. Upon Saga’s permission, Oscar cracked open the bottle and took the first sip. The sip burned as it traveled down his throat, but not in an unpleasant way. Oscar greeted the feeling as if he greeted an old friend.

They sat side by side like this, enjoying the warmth of the fire as well as each other’s company. The Morelli couldn’t remember the last time he felt like this, so peaceful. But everything, even silence, came to an end.

”I’m as good as ‘ay can be.” Oscar admitted in response to the dappled woman’s quiet question. There was something about Saga that made the Morelli feel safe enough to confide in. Perhaps it was that calming nature of hers, or perhaps it was the alcohol loosening his lips. Perhaps it was a little of both. ”Krokar’s gone. Been gone fer a little while now.” Even now it hurt Oscar to say that outloud, and he felt his throat close up a little. ”There was a fire, n’ t’was pretty bad. We couldn’ recover.”

”What’s left o’ us moved closer ter the river, over yonder.” The Morelli waved in the general direction of the Shoal. Oscar paused his story to take another comforting sip of the berry wine.

wc 481

POSTED: Mon Jan 21, 2019 12:10 pm

426

It was odd how she'd fallen so for the scruffy coated dog. She remembered, faintly, having waning patience for him the first time they'd met upon Krokar's long gone borders. He'd told her to loosen up, Saga recalled, and it had taken a great amount of self-restraint not to ruin her first diplomatic mission by insulting him. But in the end, it seemed it had been that same self-sure humour had had an effect on Saga, now it was something she could scarcely go a day without dwelling upon. It felt good to see his face again to know that he was alive, even if he wasn't necessarily okay. She doubted anyone in that situation would be anything remotely close to okay. He teased, and it brought a soft smile to her face. Truth be told, she was made for cold weather, no amount of cold weather yet had made her feel the chill in a significant way, something she was incredibly grateful of considering how likely it had been that she'd inherited her father's ineffective coat. 'Wild blood.' The Starkhelm taunted back, 'Beats dog blood any day of the week.' Though at just over twenty-five per cent consisting of domestic breeds, she was lucky to have turned out so wolfish.

She listened quietly to his eventual reply of "ok". She hadn't expected much else and she could tell that he was putting on a brave face, just as his relatives would answer when it was their turn to answer Saga's questions. 'Yeah.' Saga said softly, 'Ragna and I went to see what had happened. We saw horses running free and we were concerned.' For good reason, it had transpired. Oscar soon finished speaking and went back to sipping on the berry wine, she hadn't expected to get much information out of him and in all honesty, she didn't want to hear it just now, despite that being the whole point of her journey here. Right now, she only wanted to spend time with the Morelli. Just her and him. 'Is the Shoal nice?' She'd likely never get to know thanks to Bramble's needless aggression unless someone warned him off touching the Starkhelm she wasn't willing to risk being insulted and having to create trouble where the Shoalmen most definitely did not need it. 'I can't imagine it could hold a candle to Krokar but I'd hope to learn you're all happy enough given the circumstances.'
Saga D'Angelo
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POSTED: Mon Jan 28, 2019 12:57 pm

Oscar

From the look of concern that transpired in the wolfdog’s emerald gaze, Oscar had a feeling that Saga did not fully believe him when he claimed that he was okay. And she was right. There was so much that was not okay, so much that it made it hard for the Morelli to be his usual optimistic self. Thankfully, the dappled woman did not press any further. Her snarky quip about her ‘wild blood’ brought another smile to Oscar’s face. At least when they exchanged banter, in that moment things felt normal.

Oscar shook his head morosely as Saga mentioned the horses. ”Ay, it was all I could do,” Oscar explained, shrugging helplessly ”The flames ‘ere comin’ so fast...I had ter let ‘em all go.” As heartbreaking as it was to throw the gate open and force the beasts to fend for themselves, Oscar knew that it at least gave them a fighting chance. He had never heard a horse scream before that ill fated night, and it was a horrible sound. Upon regrouping as a Shoal, the ex Krokarans only managed to retrieve a small handful of their original herd.

”Thankfully, Addy foun’ ‘er way back ter me.” Oscar spoke fondly. At the sound of her name, the palomino mare whickered gently. Wringing his hands, Oscar’s gaze returned to the campfire. ”Sometimes I wonder ‘ef I shoulda’ done more.” The Morelli admitted, his shoulders slumping. He had been the highest ranked member of Krokar’s defense tier, and he did not do enough to protect them from the invaders. Had he been more vigilant, then maybe, just maybe the results would have not been so tragic.

Oscar handed the berry wine back to the D’Angelo, not wanting to drain the flask in one go. ”Sure, at leas’ we got each other ‘en th’ Shoal.” Oscar nodded in agreement at Saga’s inquiry. ”Though ‘et has been pretty rough. Milos ‘en Daisy ‘ave been missin’ since th’ fire.” The Morelli’s brow furrowed with worry ”’Liz ‘as been holdin’ th’ Shoal together, but I reckon ‘et has been takin’ a toll on ‘er, ‘ith her mate ‘en pup missin’ and all.”

wc 358

POSTED: Mon Jan 28, 2019 2:49 pm

379

The young Starkhelm nodded sombrely as Oscar lamented on what little he'd been able to do to keep the Krokaran's horses alive and safe. As safe as they could be given the hellfire blazing around their heads. The danger they faced uncorral and set loose into the wild was far less grave, and far less immediate that the catastrophe had been. 'It was the only thing you could do.' Saga agreed softly, staring into the dancing flames of the campfire. They soon found the face of the shaggy hybrid and his dark, chocolate eyes again, 'We took in two of the horses. And a few of the other livestock. I think others did too.' A rather morbid way to find new livestock, but Krokar had had no way to care for them and it was better than leaving them to the elements. Horses were domesticated animals in the end, unused to dealing with a life that didn't comprise of being fed and watered daily without any effort on their own part.

The Morelli's hands intertwined with each other, desperate to find some output for all his anguish. The D'Angelo felt a mist of sympathy settled over her like a weighted blanket, the feeling weighing down her shoulders. Her companion repeated his sorrows and with a deep sigh, Saga leant in a little closer, laying a dark hand upon the male's wringing hands and with a soft frustration in her voice, she spoke, 'Oscar. There was nothing you could've done. Ragna said as much.' The two Wolverthorne's had discussed such things at length on their return journey from ground zero. Surprised in the night and fighting both fire and figures, Oscar was just one man against many.

'Yeah.' The dappled woman agreed quietly, an errant thumb absentmindedly caressing the Morelli's wiry knuckles. 'I can't imagine...' She really couldn't, the most she had in Mistfell Vale in the way of blood were two brothers, only one of whom she was particularly close to. Nothing as close as a child, or something she'd willingly pledged to spend her life with. As she realised what she was doing, the Starkhelm blushed under pied fur and made to discreetly retract her hand.
Saga D'Angelo
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