His ink is dew from daisies sweet

Saga

POSTED: Thu Jul 26, 2018 12:38 am

like amateurs in love's charade

Dusk approached Foxheel Point. The place, with its lush vegetation and prolific trees had a magic all its own, accented by the way the point jutted out into the river, the waters lapping at the two sides of the peninsula. This is why Valeria chose it for her home, settling down in a burrow inside of a hollowed out old tree. The special, wondrous feeling of the place was heightened each day at dusk and dawn, when the sky lit up in an array of colors while the sun made its display of fashionably arriving, or fashionably departing. Tonight, the star's departure just began, and the sky was alight with orange and pink and yellow, and far off in the east, inky blackness.

The river was her accompaniment as she padded the region, little scraps of bread and dried meats in her hands. Some would see the pattern in her steps – thirteen steps, stop, place a breadcrumb – thirty three steps, stop, place a medallion of meat – six steps and she would place a small pebble. A trail of these items could be traced around the perimeter of Foxheel Point, and back to Valeria's burrow for the night, where the elfen fae now retreated.

Though it was too nice a night to go indoors. Her burrow was not large, and to be comfortable inside it she needed to shift to Lupus, but tonight was a night for stargazing. Squeezing her optime body through the opening of the hollow, she retrieved herself a class and a pitcher and a jar of oats she had boiled earlier in the day and added nuts to. She set those items down near the edge of the river, and then laid out a large rough-spun blanket, and in time constructed a modest campfire. But when she settled down, she did not eat the food as would be presumed, but instead set the meal out in a bowl a small distance away from her camp, where the stars and the moon and the clouds could see.

Stretching out on her back on her blanket, she soaked up the warmth of the fire and peered up at the sky as it transformed into its sleepy alter-ego. It would be perfect if Theo were here.

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Nukiira
Luperci

POSTED: Thu Jul 26, 2018 12:15 pm

3+

The scent of fire caught Saga's attention from a generous distance away as she meandered through the territory. First, she paused, paw held close to her body like a pointing dog. Although the sun had set long ago, it was still incredibly warm and there was a part of the girl's mind that wondered if a wildfire was likely to occur at some point. The accompanying scent of a familiar packmate nearby soon put her concerns to bed, however, and the dappled Wolverthorne made the decision to swing by the place Valeria had chosen to lay dog sticks.

She remembered the burrow, hidden under the roots of a large tree that had long since died, from when she'd proffered suggestions of more rural dwellings for the forest fae and her mate. She remembered the route too, easily traveling from just north of the gardens to the tip of the peninsula where the St. John's river split its course. The grass underfoot was parched and rustled loudly as the small lupus cantered through the brush.

It was not long before green eyes spotted the orange glow of campfire flames up in the distance and Saga slowed to a gentle trot. As she advanced, she was Valeria had positioned herself on a blanket and was gazing skywards, her face illuminated by firelight.

'Bit warm for a night by the fire isn't it?' she greeted with a soft smile. This was the first summer she could remember, and for all he eagerness to see what the season brought, she was beginning to wish it was over and done with. Saga, who grown her independence while snow fell thickly all around her and blanketed the Outpost, was ultimately better suited to the cold, unlike her doggish father, who suffered so in the colder months.

Saga D'Angelo
Mistfell Vale
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POSTED: Sun Jul 29, 2018 10:58 pm

like amateurs in love's charade

Feeling fully relaxed and safe within her pack's territory, Valeria was not on the alert for other creatures and so did not detect Saga's paw-steps as she padded onto the scene. Instead, all she heard was the low hum of the waking insects of the night and the crackling of her small fire. When the pepper-and-salt woman got close enough for her dark outline to appear in Valeria's peripheral vision, the elf finally shifted her sapphire gaze to peer at her pretty lupus friend.

Blessed evening, Saga, she greeted with a smile. Saga was one of her first friends here, besides Calia, and in some ways Calia did not quite count because she was in a position of power and was obligated in some small way to be a friend to everyone. Still, in time, she did come to see Calia as a friend. But it was Saga who was the first to greet her and show her around the Vale who was not beholden to.

Aye, 'tis quite warm, she agreed, turning her gaze back to the sky, the backdrop slowly turning to ink to let the stars reveal themselves. But the fire is not only for myself. 'Tis also for the sprites that roam these woods. Must keep the little people happy, lest they share in our prosperity in ways we do not want. Like, stealing our food, trashing our homes, or swapping our babies with shape-shifters... but those examples were left unspoken.

Come have a seat, she gestured, then chuckled. If you can stand it. Share in the night's fire and the sprites will think you a friend, and you will be safe from their mischief.

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Nukiira
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POSTED: Fri Aug 03, 2018 2:47 pm

Word Count → 2+ :: ooc

'I don't believe in all that.' Saga said plainly, lowering herself down to sit upon the blanket too. Her words could be read easily as offish, and Saga realised that almost immediately. But there was little room for pity in her mind, her past experiences with religious and spiritual myths had soured her opinion of such things. The topic was probably beyond repair for her.

She couldn't imagine anyone, canine or fae, that would be cold in such weather. Bright eyes stared deep into the flames, the embers reflecting in her eyes. For a few moments, the flames overpowered her own green orbs enough to turn them a wild orange colour, not unlike her own father's. The dappled girl could feel the smoke in her eyes and eventually turned away, facing back to Valeria.

The Wolverthorne caught the faelike woman's own sea blue eyes, 'How've you settled in?' She asked softly, a weak attempt to change the topic of conversation. Valeria, however, seemed very apt to enthuse about her beliefs and before the Elkenfrey even attempted to convince her otherwise, Saga resigned herself to the reality that she would be getting a lesson in the Redpaw woman's spirituality.

Saga D'Angelo
Mistfell Vale
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POSTED: Sun Aug 12, 2018 9:42 pm

like amateurs in love's charade

It was funny, the way she had come to expect less-than-exuberant reactions from Saga, but somehow still knew that she liked her. There was something different about the woman, she interacted in a different way... but too many confuse different for bad and Valeria was determined not to be one of those people. The dappled woman was quick to refute the myths Valeria mentioned, but instead of taking it as a personal offense or even as a blow to her pride like she might have when she first came to the pack, she merely gave a small smile in response.

Saga did not reject her completely. Soon she settled in next to Valeria and the fire. Her olive eyes turned to the elf and she asked a usual, small-talk question. The fire danced in Valeria's eyes, Oh, fine. Just fine, she said. I'm a farmer now. She laughed at this. It was such a funny, unexpected little twist in the story the fates had laid out for her.

She could ping another, equally mundane question back at Saga, but truth of it was she knew how Saga was doing because she came across the feral woman almost every day – or at least often enough to know that her general well-being fared. Valeria propped herself up on one arm, facing Saga, and picked a few pieces of dry grass from the ground and tossed them at the fire idly. She didn't care if they made it in or not.

So, she began, her eyes on the fire and the dancing embers as they popped off of the wood and danced up to the sky. Do you have to believe in something in order to learn a lesson from it? Her brows arched and she flicked her eyes toward Saga. Can there not be wisdom in myth? Her questions were challenging, but she was being sincere. She was not simply trying to rock Saga's boat or lead up to why she was wrong for not believing in the gods. Still, Valeria felt lively tonight, and was ready to challenge some core beliefs.

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Nukiira
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POSTED: Thu Aug 30, 2018 9:04 am

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The reception of her straight-laced and often unwelcoming personality had always been fraught with well-concealed worry. While in Salsola it had been understood, if not fully accepted, in the outside world civility was often valued far more. When she'd first joined the band of loners that called themselves the Mistwalkers, she had been entirely sure she would face a life as a pariah. A hardworking, dutiful one, but a pariah nonetheless. She'd been pleasantly surprised in the end, how quickly the others came to accept her. How quickly they had come to cheer her on as she outpaced each and every one of them, eager to prove herself to the figureheads.

'Farmers, herdsmen, we've got an entire farm now.' Saga commented, humour only barely evident in her slightly accented voice. It was good, having all these skills. Varied skills were what would make the Vale strong and the cultivation of plant life would give further opportunities for trade. 'If you need something building, planters or storage, you should ask Brom. I'm sure he'd be happy enough to help.' The carpenter had taken to busying himself with projects around the Vale in recent times, patching up old houses and refurbishing the buildings in the Orchards.

Suddenly, Valeria refocused her attention on attempting to sway Saga towards the realm of fairytales. The dappled D'Angelo rolled her eyes, exhaling with controlled measure. 'I think if you can't be a good person without having lessons dressed up as fables, then there isn't much hope for you.' This, of course, was not directed towards Valeria herself.
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Mistfell Vale
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