high school reunions are so cliche

Stormie

POSTED: Wed Jun 12, 2019 11:37 pm

WC: 406

It had been an ignorant decision to only take what had sentimental value. She hadn't thought to bring food, a waterskin, or even her practice arrow. She'd not brought twine or any knife other than the one she'd had strapped to her thigh when she'd gone to check traps the day of the forest's burning. Looking back on it, there were a thousand things she would have done differently.

For now though, she was making do with what she had. Her meager tracking skills were enough that she vaguely knew what direction the other Caledonians had gone. They far outpaced her with their horses and groups, but she had faith that as long as she was true to her roots, Nanin would guide her. He had guided her through her father's passing. He would guide her through this.

And guide her he did. Never did she find herself wandering too far from a stream or brook to quench her thirst. Always when she thought she was minutes away from starving to death did she find luck in the form of carcasses or easy prey. Never did he abandon her. Never would she abandon her faith.

It wasn't too long though before she began to doubt whether or not Nanin was leading her to the Caledonians or to some other fate. Though she was resolved to leave it in his hands, she couldn't help but fear that she would never see a familiar face again. It had been so long that she'd ceased counting the days and the trail had died off with no hopes of finding it again.

The woodling girl had gone from slender underneath her father's care to waifish thin. Her lustrous fur was often dulled by dirt and forest debris and leaves were caught in her silver hair, but her pale eyes still shone bright as ever. By faith alone she'd remained steadfast. And by faith she would be victorious. Even if it meant going without a meal for the third day in a row.

Aerin groaned in tandem with her stomach as the bright red bird flew out of sight, far away from the makeshift trap she'd laid. A soft growl marred her otherwise cheerful nature, but could anyone really blame her? At a loss for what else to do, she called out to her god: "Nanin! Why are you cruel to me? Has your love for me run dry at last?"
Aerin Galenas

POSTED: Wed Jun 19, 2019 2:34 pm

(349)

A murder of crows cawed over dense forest, cacaphonous as they circled the mix of red oak and black ash trees. Athras Eryn watched their wings beat, flocking, fluttering overhead and thought it odd. Sights such as these often signaled an easy meal for hungry luperci- likely some poor wretch on it’s last legs, or perhaps one freshly fallen. These things did not interest Athras who preferred his meals fresh, even cooked, if possible. But it was a sign, as crows — like many carrion-eaters— were messengers of Nanin. They were not sacred, exactly, for it was the way of nature to devour the dead and bring new life in turn. But it was something he was not likely to ignore.

He strode with purpose through the wild growth, ever-silent, his robe a whisper across leaf litter and verdant moss. And to his nose drifted the scents of smoke and ash. He became very still, shifting his ears forward and scenting the air. But there was no sound of fire, nor did he see smoke rising on the horizon, billowing like a black curtain of certain doom. The birds still chittered from their branches, the squirrels chattering from their hollows. And then came the plaintive cry, a familiar name, a familiar voice

His pace picked up, but no sound followed. He was a shadow among the pines, silent as a specter of a bygone age. And then, through the slightest break in the trees he saw silver hair. Her cry rang anew in his mind and this time the words remained: a plea. He stopped short of her, lingering in the shadows, his hood drawn over long dark hair. “Oh, dear child.” He whispered. “Little sprite.”

Beneath the hood the shadow’s eyes seemed to shimmer, moisture all at once pooling around their edges. He blinked it back, restoring the sharpness of their hue as he drew back the fabric. His hair flowed freely down his back long past his shoulders, it shone like black silk, gleaming in it’s half-ponytail. “He has not abandoned you.”He looked upon her gaunt face, her belly carved out by hunger, her fur dull and dirty and recognized himself moons ago. “You are home.” He said, and reached out his hands.

New Caledonia
The Lord-Regent
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Stormie
Luperci

POSTED: Thu Jun 20, 2019 5:33 pm

WC: 319

The whisper of leaves and the song of the wind was not new to Aerin, though there was something disturbingly chill about this summer breeze. Something wasn't right. She ceased her lamentations to Nanin as her hackles raised. Her left hand wavered above the knife sheathed at her thigh, uncertain of its necessity.

The voice spun her around as surely as a touch, her body sinking into a defensive crouch. It was an unpleasant look for her with her sweet mouth pulled in a snarl and a knife in her delicate fingers. It wasn't until the hood fell away that she breathed in his scent deeply. He smelled of the darkest parts of the forest. He smelled of home.

There was a soft thud as her stringless bow and unused knife each fell to the ground. "My lord?" Uncertain of his realness, she touched his hand with her own - something she rarely would have dared months ago. Warmth greeted her both physically and emotionally and Aerin's body collapsed beneath the weight of it. She gripped his fingers as if she were drowning and he offering her life as she fell down to the forest floor.

It was over. Her own personal hell was finally over. She could eat again. She could sleep. And she could know forever now, that her great god would never abandon her. Aerin moaned in an attempt to stifle the sobs that racked her body to no avail. The pure emotion would not cease for mere politeness. It was raising up from somewhere deep within her and it would not be silenced. She cried for her mother whom she had never met. She cried for the father who had left her too soon. And finally she cried for herself, for the first time since her first shift, for entering into womanhood alone and unguided by a single soul to help her save that of Nanin.
Aerin Galenas

POSTED: Thu Jul 11, 2019 3:47 pm

()

The girl spun like a feral beast, poised with weapons and in a defensive crouch. Briefly he lifted a hand to draw her attention and advise caution. But she stilled, bow and knife falling from her fingers. Her hands found his and she crumpled to the ground, wracked by sobs and lost in a storm of emotion. He crouched, layering his other hand atop hers as she cried for all she had lost and all she had gained. “Shhh,” he hushed her, squeezing her fingers with his lower hand as he lifted the other to her face. There he rubbed the tears from her eye his fingers trailing down towards her chin as he tipped it up to look at him.

“You’re safe now, sweetling. I’m here.” He stroked her chin gently, “I’m here.” As her body shook he ushered her into his arms, cradling her to his chest. Athras stroked her dirty silver hair in long smooth motions until her sobbing slowed, her shuddering becoming less and less violent. “Now, deep breaths.” He encouraged, feeling the inflation of her lungs against him and the shudder that followed. “Good. A few more.” Fingers tangled in her tresses and found the back of her skull where they swirled lazily, soothingly. “I’m going to take care of you now.” He whispered, “you’ll want for nothing.”

“I promise.”

New Caledonia
The Lord-Regent
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Stormie
Luperci

Canon