Mists of time part for the unworthy

[p. Yuka]

POSTED: Thu Apr 05, 2018 6:40 pm

We’re the only ones who know

Why was he so far from home? Silvano stared into the trees around them, their limbs so reluctantly give up to spring foliage, though it was weak at best. For whatever reason, the weather refuse to relent and the wintry conditions seemed hellbent on persisting. Silvano found it odd, especially since his mind lost the trail of time, stuck somewhere his memories struggled to put him. He was not in the pack and he could not fathom why it was he left. He knew that there had been a reason but that reason was gone on the wind like a passing dandelion seed.

Silvano walked forward, then stopped, staring into space some more. Why was he out and about? There had to be a good reason, even if he could not figure out what that reason had been. He furrowed those brows of his, sighing deeply, as though it were more of an inconvenience than a truly concerning realization.

He knew something was wrong, for he could tell that he had been worrying family lately. That was a memory that seemed hellbent on staying in his head, even if he struggled to pull the faces of his youngest children into his mind at a moment's notice. Even a good round of focus was dull. He could barely recall them, or their names. He knew they existed, and it was the sharpest of pains in his chest to know he was forgetting his children.

"Heritage?" he called out, remembering his stallion. Where had the horse gone? He did not realize that he had no taken the horse. He had, after all, just walked away from the pack without a single thought.

SILVANO SADIRA
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POSTED: Mon Apr 16, 2018 3:50 pm

The persistent cold and snowy weather did not deter Yuka – if anything, it made her more amiable.

She was built for cold, and as her paws trudged through the snow in their lupus, dainty form she was smiling, swishing her tail above her like a malamute might in a rare example of unwolfishness. Her paws were light and she had a brisk pace going, ears pressed forward and listening for the sound of any prey she might be able to take down on her own. With the cold snap the rivers had a fine crust of ice over their surfaces which made fishing a little more difficult, and after so <i>many</i> days of fish, she was hoping for something warmer.

As she moved through the forest, though, she heard footfalls and stopped, tipping her head to one side so she could listen. A male voice called out that sounded confused, if not distressed, and being the charitable soul she was the Inuit girl walked towards the voice, picking up her pace until the snow was shifting in a cloud behind her, almost camouflaging her from view in her own pristine way.

Finally, she came to a pause near a dark male with beautiful, striking green eyes – a colour she had never seen. All the wolves of home looked exactly as she did, but she had seen so many colour combinations since moving south that she chided herself a little for being surprised. Gently, she pressed forward and made a little sound in her throat to alert the male that she was there, since she was approaching from behind him.

“Sir? Are you all right?”


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POSTED: Sat May 05, 2018 9:14 pm

We’re the only ones who know

Where was the damned horse? What had possessed him to run off? There was no trace of him, no scent, so it was clear that some time had passed since the creature departed. But wait, had he taken the stallion with him? confusion colored his features a moment as he stared into the trees, the absence of horse-smell leaving him entirely confused, befuddled, and uncertain. It was a common feeling of late and it was not doing him any good. No, he was definitely not in a good place.

A voice politely called to him, and the former King spun about on his feet toward the sound. A pale girl, far younger than he, looked up at him from her four-legged position on the ground. He blinked down at her at a poor attempt at recognition and conceded when nothing about her rang any bells; she did not smell like the Court or Casa or Crimson Dreams or anything that was still an accessible fact in his head. She was a stranger, but she had been polite.

Brows furrowed as he looked down at her, wondering if she were a wolf of the arctic, like his father's bloodline had once been. For all that he had inherited the coloration of his mother's kind, there had been blood of the far north in his veins.

"No, I think I'm alright." He shook his head after a split second, sighing. "I think I lost my horse, actually. You haven't seen him around, have you? He's a reddish brown thing, very proud looking." At least he could still remember his once mount.

SILVANO SADIRA
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POSTED: Mon May 14, 2018 4:41 pm

His green eyes were piercing as he looked down from the height of his Optime form, her lupus one probably looking like that of a pup in comparison. Yuka was small, petite and feminine in all her forms but the one she was in now was her smallest – perhaps a bad idea to introduce herself to a stranger in such a way, but it could also play to her advantage if he didn’t consider her threatening. How could he?

His gaze continued to look over her and she wondered what he was thinking, knowing that she was different than others out here. While there were the occasional arctic wolves in the region, none that she’d seen or heard of had the traditional markings she possessed. She felt insecurity and self-consciousness rise until he spoke, and her rounded ears perked to listen.

“I’ve not seen him, I’m sorry,” she said, tipping her nose to the wind and trying to catch any scent of the creature.

“Where was the last place you were with him?”

She of course didn’t know the battle he was fighting with his memory, and wanted only to be helpful. Something about this male made her want to reach out, as though he was someone who garnered respect.

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POSTED: Thu May 17, 2018 8:00 pm

We’re the only ones who know

"I don't know," he said with a shake of his head. Honestly, he was starting to wonder if he had taken Heritage out at all for there was no smell on him of the creature. Was he, perhaps, imagining it? No, there was no way. How else would he have gotten.. wherever it was he happened to be? Heritage had to have been around and he was not about to abandon the horse to wild wolves who were happy to prey upon owned animals.

He finally looked down at her, cocking his head a little to the side. "You have very curious markings. You're not from Aniwaya are you? They tend to have odd colors all over." He knew it sounded rude, but the tribe's customs were strange to him, especially having come from a highly humanized family that prided themselves on their civility and knowledge rather than the ancient traditions they were upholding. That and Aniwaya would forever be a sore spot, having fought in a war with them in his youth.

"But, yeah? No horse?" he added, with a sigh, looking a bit despondent.

SILVANO SADIRA
Now, I've learned it's better living in the moment. Enjoy youth, cause it doesn't last.

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