04-16-2010, 05:39 AM
The early morning eastern sunrise had yet to kiss this side of the towering Appalachians, and it was doubtful the expanse would look much better once it did. Life was beginning to come back, here and there, but for the most part the western side of Halcyon Mountain was dead, gray and ravaged. A dark form, smudged and dirty, trod carefully up the remains of a once fertile mountainside, ears laid sideways, head down, each of her four paws carefully placed as chartreuse eyes skimmed the horizon. Once, she was a pretty young thing; no one would ever have called her beautiful, but there had been a certain charm to her open face, a kindness in her bright eyes. The charm had turned to cynicism, and the kindness had petrified to stone. Her demeanor was calm, but this was belied by a flicking of cold eyes from side to side, consuming all they could in every glance.
She was confused as all hell, concerned and slightly heartbroken, and mightily pissed off because of this. When she had left some five years ago, these lands had been fertile, alive, booming with an ever-growing wolf population. Now they were deserted, save for a few animals creeping back in as nature healed the wound left by what had obviously been a devastating wildfire. The ebony female had traversed almost the entirety of the former Bleeding Souls lands, and there hadn't been a wolf in sight, nor in scent, not for a long time. She had allowed herself to get excited before stepping foot on what used to be her old stomping ground; excited to see her brothers, her surrogate mother, all those she had loved and cared for once upon a time. That small bud of excitement had been crushed and ground flat by some giant, merciless boot-heel. "Where are they?" she asked, seemingly, the air. "I don't understand... Tsunami, Hale, Rain... where is Storm, Mother? Where is Clouded Tears?" Keep on moving, my dear, came the reply. All things in good time. She huffed; this wasn't exactly what she wanted to hear.
It was hours since Nirupama Apollyon had first begun to climb the mountain that bordered her once-upon-a-time home during the deepest part of the night. She neared the peak now, and her pace increased just a bit; if she could just get to the top, she would rest for a while before going on, her years-long journey delayed who knew how long, until she found some remnant of what used to be home. By the time she reached the summit of the mountain, she was nearly at a run; nearly, not quite, as her joints weren't quite what they used to be. Her momentum stopped short once she reached the peak, for before her lay a rolling expanse of lush, green territory, and with the wind came the scents she had so been longing for; wolves. No particular one, but many, many, oh so many wolves. The packs she knew must have transplanted themselves over the mountain range when the fire came. She struck quite a figure, up there on the mountain top; a lone black wolf, head held high and ears perked, green eyes afire with hope. Such an expression had not graced Apollyon's features in a very long time, and she, for a brief moment, regained a flicker of her former beauty. "They're here!" I told you, didn't I? You never listen to me when you should. "Well, I listened good enough now, didn't I? I kept going even though nobody was there." That you did, my Apollyon. That you did. A pale laughter floated through the air, fading away into the dark wolf's mind.
She was confused as all hell, concerned and slightly heartbroken, and mightily pissed off because of this. When she had left some five years ago, these lands had been fertile, alive, booming with an ever-growing wolf population. Now they were deserted, save for a few animals creeping back in as nature healed the wound left by what had obviously been a devastating wildfire. The ebony female had traversed almost the entirety of the former Bleeding Souls lands, and there hadn't been a wolf in sight, nor in scent, not for a long time. She had allowed herself to get excited before stepping foot on what used to be her old stomping ground; excited to see her brothers, her surrogate mother, all those she had loved and cared for once upon a time. That small bud of excitement had been crushed and ground flat by some giant, merciless boot-heel. "Where are they?" she asked, seemingly, the air. "I don't understand... Tsunami, Hale, Rain... where is Storm, Mother? Where is Clouded Tears?" Keep on moving, my dear, came the reply. All things in good time. She huffed; this wasn't exactly what she wanted to hear.
It was hours since Nirupama Apollyon had first begun to climb the mountain that bordered her once-upon-a-time home during the deepest part of the night. She neared the peak now, and her pace increased just a bit; if she could just get to the top, she would rest for a while before going on, her years-long journey delayed who knew how long, until she found some remnant of what used to be home. By the time she reached the summit of the mountain, she was nearly at a run; nearly, not quite, as her joints weren't quite what they used to be. Her momentum stopped short once she reached the peak, for before her lay a rolling expanse of lush, green territory, and with the wind came the scents she had so been longing for; wolves. No particular one, but many, many, oh so many wolves. The packs she knew must have transplanted themselves over the mountain range when the fire came. She struck quite a figure, up there on the mountain top; a lone black wolf, head held high and ears perked, green eyes afire with hope. Such an expression had not graced Apollyon's features in a very long time, and she, for a brief moment, regained a flicker of her former beauty. "They're here!" I told you, didn't I? You never listen to me when you should. "Well, I listened good enough now, didn't I? I kept going even though nobody was there." That you did, my Apollyon. That you did. A pale laughter floated through the air, fading away into the dark wolf's mind.