[html] [/html]Title lyrics by Bill Callahan of Smog
Aquilina (no surname)
Feb. 19, 2010
Non-Luperci
Eastern Timber Wolf
Female
AIM (afrolicaholic) MSN (cheexpeex@hotmail.com) YAHOO (frolicaholic@yahoo.com)
Halloo ^___^
IC post date set on Aug. 1, 2010 in Hill of Graves.
A bodily earthquake of fear shook Aquilina as she took tentative steps towards the border. A deathly silent, invisible creature suddenly grasped her throat with sunk-in claws. She stumbled backwards in shock, but promptly tripped on a root and fell the the ground. Its claws sunk deeper and maniacal laughter echoed in the girl's skull. She tried not to draw attention while lying on her back being wracked by tremors, so she ignored the evil thing living in her head by shutting her eyes tight and fighting for air in near complete silence. The creature's interest waned and its grasp slowly weakened until it completely receded back to its hole in Aquilina's head. The shaking and gasping finally died, too.
Her untimely anxiety attacks were getting worse, and each time after left her feeling more and more empty. Tonight the emptiness was in her favor, because fears of facing this land's pack vanished. Aquilina's shell was left to do the walking and talking while her core curled up like a careless, floating fetus. She stood up and shook out the aftershocks, but just as she was about to take a step forward again she froze in mid-walk position. Senses told her someone else shared the moonlight...
A weight had lifted from the Whilom's very soul the night that she had reunited with her estranged mate and the leader of the Valley pack. Things were not perfect. She could pinpoint the exact, crystalline feeling of love that had once pierced her to her core while in Jefferson's presence, and so she did not know how they could recreate it together. But now there was something more than her own happiness to worry about. Her son was the defining measure of her life now. She had not ventured far from him in the two short months of his life, but she felt secure enough now to leave him sleeping safely in the haven of their home.
The slight gray wolfess was trying to regain her bearings. She had been a sub-leader of this pack months ago, before she had taken a fall from a terrible height that had robbed her of her health and disfigured the side of her face. The flesh of one side of her face was distorted slightly, pulling the flesh of her cheek tightly across her face. Her lime green eyes remained clear and she had retained her sense of vision, thankfully. But the fall had changed her permanently, inside and out.
Without a sense of smell, the wolfess relied solely on her memory of the lay out of the borders. She was trying to make a commitment to something or someone again, even in this small way. Perhaps she could start by doing this for Jefferson, for her son, for her pack, and perhaps her heart and grow and expand beyond its current limited scope again. From where she stood silhouetted in the moonlight, she was able to see a younger female prowling around and looking lost.
Geneva's whisper soft voice had a ghostly quality in the poor lighting and the darkness of the Hill of Graves. "Are you lost?"
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Hello! And thanks for fixing up your post! ^^ Edit: GWEN WHY ARE YOU SO FAST
His previous visit to Hill of Graves had been with Jantus and his posse. Jefferson had been their escort through Phoenix Valley land—Jantus, a fellow cyclops, was kind enough to ask his permission before leading his group of vagrants into trespassing—and Jefferson fell into the unnoticed shadows of the background as their funeral began. It was not a long service but one they found hopelessly necessary; Skoll was a memorable individual, it seemed, and his many survivors had spoken of him kindly. Jefferson, the monster he was, hardly considered himself anything so noble and memorable, but refused to fret on the subject. He was a sinner, after all, deserving of no praise from dead or alive. He had been a stain in that funeral party, unfitting in his imperfections, a blotch of red on a canvas of white.
The cemetery was overwhelmingly depressing, however, and he had little intentions of remaining there. The cyclops had simply stumbled upon it while cutting through the forest; a differing scent in the air caught his attention now (though it didn't take much, the patch of graves smelled blatantly of dirt and dead). The scent belonged to a stranger but the cyclops moved in no hurry, his limp slowing him as always. From the brush he emerged before her, grim-faced and scarred head to toe as always. He glanced quickly at the Whilom, a brow raising briefly—"Oh, Geneva,"—before glancing back at the stranger, getting to the point. "Who are you?" the Patriarch said, thinning his eye, his tone mildly impatient.
table by jenny[/html]
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Thank ya for giving me the opportunity to fix it.
The lifted paw was set down as she watched, in awed silence, a fellow wolf approach. Its face became strikingly apparent in the moonlight. More so than average features, because something was eerily wrong- made all the worse by haunting silver moonlight and shadows. She kept wide wildfire eyes to the ground once the stranger was within smelling range, but the image of taut, damaged skin stuck in her mind like psychic glue. A voice threaded the air like silk to see if she was lost, and she answered with a quick side-to-side head shake. Aquilina, despite her current state, was finding her task difficult in the presence of a motherly figure.
Another, a male this time, entered the dismal scene and caused the young she-wolf to look up. Her body language remained neutral and dead. One would never guess how relieved she was to have a buffer between Geneva and the depressing memories her presence stirred. After all, he was one, large walking distraction. An art piece of lacerated flesh. She freely admired the scars while she cut straight to the chase, Aquilina. Ma is gone forever, I'm sure, so I must find a new home... maybe... here?" Aquilina had finished gazing from scar to scar to scar (and so on) a few seconds before the end of her words. She did not, could not bring up the subject of her more recently M.I.A. siblings, even though it didn't matter anymore. With that in mind eyes settled blankly on the backdrop between Geneva and the scar man.
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Geneva was not really startled to see Jefferson suddenly appear. She felt as though he had leapt out of her thoughts, an eery fingure cut against the moonlit night. It was as though her thoughts had summoned her once estranged mate here. But Jefferson often wandered, or patrolled, she was never sure really. He always seemed to have a purpose when he moved, although she did not always know whether he was trekking a physical or mental landscape. There were thoughts below the surface that seemed to devour him at times, and at those times he would sometimes wander, she had observed.
The younger female had striking bright eyes that cut across the dark. The Whilom merely listened to her words, but did not offer any conversation in return. Although she held a rank of some esteem, she was not really a fully functional leader in the pack anymore. A valued voice perhaps, but with Jefferson in attendance, his presence indicated more influence and power within the pack structure. She would be here to assist him if he needed it, which had been her original intent when setting out upon the borders in the first place.
The gray colored wolfess turned her eyes to Jefferson at that point, and in that moment she nearly forgot the presence of Aquilina. This was the first time she had truly been in Jefferson's presence without anyone else that they truly knew. Pripyat, their son, was now the gravity that held her to this earth, but there was something there that pulled upon her heart and seemed to anchor her even more firmly to Phoenix Valley. There was something there, reserved just for the two of them, and Geneva smiled sadly as she realized this and turned her eyes and attention back to the task at hand. She was both curiously happy and sorrowful. Whatever it was that moved within her heart, she could not put a name to it now.
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With Geneva's presence, an unspoken hesitance and anxiety tightened the air. He hated to pretend she wasn't there, having no intention to do so, and yet the cyclops knew nothing of what to say to her. They had made up not long ago but their relationship had yet to be truly refreshed to the norm, and in the meantime Jefferson maintained a certain hesitant stiffness he couldn't control. What to say to her? The brute focused on the stranger instead, cleared his throat when the Whilom made no input, and raised his head.
Aquilina stared at his scars with admiration in her eyes, a reaction he saw rarely. He was not, however, on display for excited audiences, and the color of his electric green eye darkened considerably. "Aquilina," he said, as if to draw her eyes away from the sideshow of his ripped and destroyed pelt. "What is 'Ma'? And if you plan to stay here, you'd better have a good idea of what you can offer us for skills in return." As always, his gravelly tone was sharp and to the point, and his eye analyzed her in still silence.
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[html] The jolting recital of a name caused its bearer to refocus on the frightening one who uttered it, but she was no more inclined to show her inner-fear than she was to grovel at the foot of a prospective leader. On the other hand, Geneva's emanating sadness stained a tiny wall on an otherwise sterile heart. She gave the sad one a quick sideways glance and her lips curled in silent, one-way empathy but her face straightened in time to answer the male. "Ma... my Ma, the big she-wolf who I come from. She taught me about plants that nourish health." She was silent for a moment to recall her much rehearsed presentation, "I can teach other kids my plant knowledge as well as fishing, insect and rodent hunting, hiding from danger, patience, and observation. Even if my experience is rudimentary, with me as a pup-teacher, it can free up valuable time for adults to perform other pack duties." Aquilina was surprised at how well she handled herself, and secretly thanked the numbness that sprung from so much misery. Her resigned figure looked upon the leader with earnest eyes.
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There seemed to be something bothering Aquilina. She couldn't put her finger on it exactly, but it wasn't exactly her business. It didn't seem like whatever shadows laid behind her eyes would impact the pack's security or safety, which would be her primary concern as the once sub-leader of this pack. Jefferson had always - well, for the most part - handled himself well, even if he was not the most amicable or patient creature in this land. She knew that this border interview would be fair.
The Whilom did stir for a moment, only to comment and share her thoughts with Jefferson. "It sounds as though she would be self sufficient, if nothing else. And she could learn, in the future," Geneva said softly. She did not make light of the skills Aquilina claimed to have to offer, although she withheld her unspoken thoughts. It still bothered her that she had left Pripyat at all, although she knew that he was safely asleep at the lighthouse and it would be hours before he would wake up.
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She didn't waste his time, and he appreciated it. Jefferson watched the girl's nervous performance with an unmoving, unfeeling eye; the stiffness in his back ached, and yet the brute did nothing to relieve himself. It seemed Aquilina had some mild level of knowledge on medicine thanks to the teachings from her mother; perhaps Jefferson should have inquired more on the subject, but he found it unnecessary at the time. She was behaved, he found, and provided a few more unique skills than what he usually heard at the borders; that said, Jefferson was primarily satisfied with the responses, and by the look and words of Geneva, she had no argument either.
"All right," he said finally, nodding his head. "There's a few pups in the pack that could use some looking after. I'll leave them to you; get to know their parents first, the loonies. That said, I think you'll fit in here just fine. Loas is the rank you'll be. Work, and you'll move up." His last words dripped with sarcasm, and he appeared not to regret it. The pack was full of loons and dreamers and Aquilina looked shaky and curious—perhaps they would be good for each other. He turned on his heel, paused, and looked over his shoulder. "Right, I'm Jefferson. Find me in the ranch. For now, I need to go... check in on my son." He cleared his throat, turned his eye briefly to Geneva, and stalked off.
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