Goat Stew

Ife Yahimba · 08-07-2010, 03:42 PM

1.Character Name: Ife Yahimba
2.Character Birthdate: August 12 2007
3.Luperci?: Luperci Ortus
4.Species: Black-Backed Jackal
5.Gender: Female
6.A secondary form of contact: Email: jade_lion248@yahoo.ca
7.Currently played characters: Ife is my first character here
8.How you found 'Souls: http://roleplaying.top-site-list.com/
9.Initial post:

Mouth-watering scents drifted from an earth coloured clay pot as it's lid was removed. The jackal optime's hands were covered with thick wool gloves in order to handle the piping hot dish and one was removed before she reached for a wooden ladle. Her long golden mane was pulled back into a french braid and the short luperci was kneeling near the pot that was hanging over an open fire pit. Dipping the ladle into the stew, she blew on the broth before taking a sip. A thoughtful look went through her brown eyes as she took another pinch of herbs and dropped it into her meal before she stirred it. Perhaps unusual to some, the goat stew had been prepared from the young kid that her doe Esi had recently given birth to. She did not currently have enough room to house more goats than she currently owned; Her four Nigerian Dwarfs barely fit into her wagon as it was, but hopefully that would change soon. As a jackal in a foreign country, despite being nearly half their average size, she was well aware that she could, and had been, easily mistaken for a coyote and considering the rumours she had heard about this place that was not a situation she wanted to be in. So, hopefully a yummy smelling meal would slow them down enough to realize that she was not a coyote. She was a jackal, damn it! It frustrated her that despite her obvious differences she was still mistaken for one of those... coyotes.

Ife had passed by the infamous Inferni territory and almost asked for a place in their clan before she quickly changed her mind. Part coyote members only aside; She didn't want part of a pack that used such... imaginative ways to mark their territory. Her large snow coloured shire horse, Abioye, neighed softly from where he was hitched to her covered wagon and shifted his weight as he waited patiently for Ife. Reminiscent of what the original human settlers had used, her wagon was about 4 feet wide, ten feet long and 9 feet tall including the wheels. What was not like the historic wagon however, were some of the materials used to make the wagon. Large, thick rubber tires salvaged from several different, relatively intact, farm tractors gave it a more modern feeling; along with a patched together plastic tarp as a covering. The majority of the wagon was made from wood she had had bought from a carpenter in her native country of Africa. Her goats were housed inside her wagon along with a spinning wheel and various supplies she had either made by hand or salvaged from a few former human settlement. Tied behind her wagon were four white llamas she had made off with about half a year ago.

Large, tawny yellow ears swivelled in different directions as she tried to pick up the sound of an approaching pack member. She was a few feet from the territory's well marked border and was eagerly awaiting the arrival of someone who lived within. Ife's slender hands ladled some stew into a clay bowl, after she was satisfied with the amount she sat down near Abioye with her legs crossed and her black tipped tail flopped out behind her. Her ears were pushed back slightly and she kept her gaze toward the ground. While she couldn't howl to announce her presence like wolves or even coyotes could, she supposed that the smell of cooking meat and smoke would do the job just as well. Usually jackals like herself would yelp loudly to call to each other but she didn't feel like having a sore throat today.

Ife had been without a pack for almost a year now and the life of a nomad didn't appeal to her anymore. So she waited. Despite her downward gaze a smile tugged at her lips and she took a sip from her bowl.

Cwmfen nic Graine · 08-07-2010, 07:22 PM

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Hello and welcome to ‘Souls! I’ll keep my posts short so that replies can be made quick. That way you’ll be accepted faster and be able to post in DDM and the other IC forums, ^=^
400+

Having risen early, the black wolf had doffed her natural form for the shape that allowed her to wield weapons. Since her Dreaming upon the night of Lughnasadh, since she had seen the masked vigilante once again, the Caledonian-Korean had been moved to take up Badb and the Raven Spear once more, and to fight weaponless in that way that her Korean blood allowed her. She found that the memory of War returned to her easily, and she trained until dawn had kissed the horizon and longer. The ferocity of War sang so vividly within her soul as to be nearly overwhelming to the synesthete, and the enlightened tranquility within her trembled for it. Battle hardened sinew wrapped about her lithe, effeminate form, the strength softened by the woaded coat. The pied Raven sang harshly in the air made alive by her ephemeral movements. Passion flowed from every attack and defense. She did not cease to move until hunger, not fatigue, commanded her so.

The Raven Dreamer assumed her natural shape one more, moving swiftly, fluidly, through the shadowed woods. Exhilaration still moved through her blood like the light of the sun, but the carefully disciplined senses drank in their surroundings. The wolf traveled near the boarders, intent upon satisfying the hunger so as to sustain her working body. She could smell something—prey animal. The woaded female slowed, her steps deliberate. She became the hunter, the white, lunar eyes luminous in the shadows. Her nose alert, her ears erect, she moved as a killer, the strong jaws hungry.

But what she found was not prey. It was something strange, and a canine sat at its head. Emerging from cover, the Woaded Warrior took several steps toward the strange sight. The tranquil façade seemed unmoved, her erect posture somehow relaxed and unconcerned. Yet curiosity seemed to skim across the white gaze, tickling the grace of her Warrior’s body. For many moments, the simple wolf studied the prey creatures, still alive, within that cage, and the creature that was like a horse. It was nothing like she had ever seen before. Bewildered, and yet with no hint of her bewilderment upon her graceful, tranquil features, the Warrior turned toward the strange canine. Coyote and yet not, the creature was just as strange as the things around her. “Hail, loner,” the alto melody sang, the tones dancing with silver feet upon the air. “What have you brought to Dahlia’s borders?”

Ife Yahimba · 08-07-2010, 08:50 PM

ooc: Yeah, that's fine. My previous post is long because I wanted to get all of Ife's stuff out of the way. She comes with a lot of baggage. Smile

Also sorry if my writing is a bit... messy but I haven't rped for awhile and I haven't written anything since school was over. Sad

Also where did you get such a cool looking... box around your writing. I'm such a noob ><

IC

Ife gently placed the clay bowl on the ground in such a way that it would not tip over. Her smile widened to an almost cheeky grin before she managed to calm her features. Twinkling, warm brown eyes briefly met the unusual gaze of the stranger before her. She pushed down the urge to ask about those unusual orbs but they looked so like the moo- she bit her tongue lightly to stop herself. Now was not the time. She forced herself to look away from the lithe she-wolf nearby. Although not within the border herself, she was still a stranger to whoever had come to investigate and so she tried to follow what little she knew about wolf protocols.

Hands with sheathed claws slowly met the ground as she pushed herself up into a standing position. Despite being in her optime form the curious jackal would have stood no chance against the obviously well trained wolf. The sleek black wolf's posture assured Ife that while she meant no harm at the moment, she was quite capable should their meeting take a turn for the worst. Ife was no fighter and coupled with her petite frame she had little to no way to defend herself. Her right hand started to twirl the hair at the end of her braid.

She tilted her head to the side, careful to keep her posture submissive -there was no need to offend anyone- and replied in her own chipper tone, “Oh, this? Well, this is my little farm on wheels! Goats for milk, llamas for wool and old Abioye for pulling my wagon. Don't be afraid of little old Abi, though he looks like a brute, he's a real sweet heart.”

She nervously plucked at her fur. She hated it when she babbled on like that, especially in front of strangers. She also wasn't sure if she should introduce herself first or let her new companion begin the introductions.

Cwmfen nic Graine · 08-07-2010, 09:53 PM

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No problem! I’m sort of getting back in too… I rejoined a couple months ago but I’ve been slow. Also, the box around my post is called a table. The one I’m using is photomanipulated and coded by me (although the code template belongs to Sie). If you want, I can make you one, although I probably will not be able to get you one until Mon or Tuesday (send me a PM if you’re interested). You can also post a request for a table in the Talents forum, and someone will take care of you, ^=^ (This is my last post of the night.)
300+

The Woad-marked Warrior was bewildered by the strange display. She had seen similar things upon her travel, but nothing quite the same. It must have been something human, as human things were unfamiliar to her simple wolf’s mind. While the patchwork tarp and repaired ‘cage’ were strange, the black she wolf found the prey animals to be the most strange. A wolf should kill such creatures for the meat upon their bones and the nutrients the blood and flesh would supply a wolf’s body. The Dahlian knew that the protection of prey-creatures was not uncommon within humanesqe wolf communities. One such example was Pheonix Valley, the neighboring pack that protected cattle. Always, Cwmfen found it challenging to resist the instinct to attack and kill the animals. In the wolf’s mind, they should be the food in the belly of wolves, the fuel of Warriors and civilians. But she always resisted for the diplomacy that packlife demanded. And, although this coyote-canine was a loner, the wolf resisted as well.

The double-banded ears twitched at the sound of the loner’s voice. The Warrior’s white gaze shifted to find the golden eyes of the stranger, the impassive, tranquil eyes almost unnerving. “A farm.” The alto melody was almost amiable despite its tranquil emptiness. The Warrior found it intriguing that the prey-animals within the ‘cage’ were related somehow to the cows of Pheonix Valley. However, knowing that her knowledge of human activity was limited, she chose to accept the loner’s explanation. “Do you drink the milk?” The Warrior was truly wondered, for she herself had not tasted a mother’s milk since she had been weaned. The black Dahlian, however, chose not to comment upon the fearing of the prey named Abioye.

“Have you come to trade with those of this pack, Loner?” The warrior wondered if that were the purpose of the coyote-canine. However, Cwmfen nic Graine was intrigued by the foreign names. She wondered at her culture, for the Warrior’s own culture was surely unique from that within which she had integrated herself. If a trade was all this stranger desired, the Warrior could call for another member to participate. She herself would need to continue her hunt and uptake her duties as Dahlia’s once more.

Ife Yahimba · 08-07-2010, 11:32 PM

Ife's eyes gained a mischievous twinkle as she quickly took in the fact that the stranger did not comment on her supposed fear of horses, specifically Abioye. Various thoughts about pride and her own experience encountering the strange new things of this country passed through her mind. She didn't comment on this though; despite suffering from what humans used to call foot in mouth disease she did know when to keep silent, well, most of the time. She was acting childish, she knew that but she was slightly giddy about having an actual conversation instead of just trading with the different people she came across. Deciding to throw all of what she thought she knew of wolf decorum out the window, Ife looked the black wolf in her strange moon like eyes. Mysterious blue markings covered her body but she paid them no heed; Plenty of other jackals in Africa had dyed their fur or otherwise altered their bodies. She herself might have gotten a tattoo or two had she not have been worried about the pain. For all her adventurous ways, Ife stopped short of intentionally hurting herself.

She straightened her posture and both of her large ears were pointed directly at the black wolf. As her tail went from side to side slightly she caught the wolf eyeing her flock and tried not to react to it. "Yes, I do drink goat's milk, that I do, but I also make yogurt. Quite delicious if I do say so myself!" The jackal winced as she felt herself slip slightly into her saleswoman facade. "Though trading's not what I came here for. I have come from far away place to join the pack, oh mighty member of-." She bit her tongue to cut herself short. She was so far into her childish persona that it had almost become a part of her. It was hard to tell now where it ended and she began. Smile and people will stop asking if you're alright, right? Well she had blundered a little anyway so-

"Oh by the way, my name is Ife Yahimba. Ee-feh Yah-him-BAH. Got it?"

ooc: Heh, I never meant to make her so... weird(for a lack of better terms) but she seems to be developing that way. Though that might be cause I've never written a darker character before also despite her own species' lack of a defined pack system she has been definitely been lacking company for a long time and it has left her slightly off kilter... Maybe the two can be friends? Though hopefully despite her ~amazing~ personality she will still be accepted in to the pack and oh, goodnight Requiem!

Cwmfen nic Graine · 08-08-2010, 05:09 PM

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Sorry to make you wait! Cwmfen doesn’t really make friends, but she’s friendly and respectful of all the members of the pack, ^=^ And she’d die for any of them because she feels like that’s her purpose, haha. I’m sure they’ll get along!
300+

Mischief. It twinkled in the eye of the loner. Cwmfen had observed such a thing before. The troublesome wolf, Svara, had had mischief in her eyes as well. Much turmoil had been churned within the pack because of that girl who did not know self-discipline. The Warrior, since then, had been careful when greeting loners on the boarders, cautious to watch for that spark that could bring the pack such trouble. However, the coyote-canine had displayed submissively to her, and the black wolf had approved. Always, the Dahlian enforced the strict culture of wolves when interacting at the boarders. It was then that she could gauge the quality of the visitor. The black wolf did not think, however, that the loner, should admittance to the pack be permitted, would cause problems. And if the Warrior was wrong, the Warrior would take care of the issue.

A quiet growl disrupted the tranquility of her presence. The white eyes hardened, taking up the challenge. They peered into the yellow eyes as if seeing right through them, or perhaps something completely different. Holding her gaze with ease, the black wolf listened to the words. It was strange to her that milk should be consumed by an adult, but it was interesting as well. She couldn’t remember the taste of her mother’s milk, but would the milk of another animal be worth consuming? And she didn’t even know what ‘yogurt’ was, but that appeared to be irrelevant, for it was admittance into the pack that the coyote-canine desired.

The wolf’s posture changed, her hackles rising. But the tranquil face was only partially distorted as she bared her strong, white teeth. “You wish to join and yet challenge me, Ife Yahimba,” the alto melody sang, the tranquil tones marred by a sanguine touch. “A pack is willing to accept members, but not creatures that shall disrupt its unity.” The Warrior thrived from War, but it was Peace that was the purpose of that violence. Her features became calm, the tranquility restored once more. “Should you join a pack, would you help to preserve that Peace?” The Warrior did not play games, although perhaps such a thing was due to never having played before.

Ife Yahimba · 08-08-2010, 07:02 PM

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Sorry for my own slow reply, I had to complete some chores. I'm not sure the below is true but meh.... Africa is pretty civilized, right? She's just a city girl trying to fit in and this is a major culture shock... despite her being in America for I forget how long. Smile Also isn't my new table cool?

Oops, was a thought that past quickly through Ife's mind. While she had heard some of the differences between her own culture and that of the wolf's it was very easy to just let go of that and slip back into what was familiar. She quickly averted her gaze, lowered her ears slightly and shifted her weight to her thighs to make herself slightly shorter. It was time to try and salvage things and so she replied in a softer tone in an attempt to appease the she-wolf "I'm sorry if I have offended you, I so easily slip back into my own roots. For jackals, eye contact is a sign of respect and trust, not one of disrespect. If I somehow disrupt the peace around here it would simply be nothing intentional... just a little clashing of cultures. Nothing more and I will adjust quickly, I assure you."

A small jolt of fear had passed through her when she caught sight of those large, in her own opinion, dagger like teeth. Ife made a quick mental note never to piss off the one before her too much. She quickly calculated the amount of various supplies she had in her wagon and, in an attempt to sweeten her offer, she mentioned some things that may appeal to the obviously semi-feral wolf in front of her. “The animals with me provide much more than just the raw materials I mentioned earlier; As you see the llamas, the animasl tied to the other end of my wagon, have thick, plush fur. This can be sheared off and I can weave the wool into shawls- blankets- that are a little fire resistant and provides excellent dry lining for dens. Also if prey is scarce, I can sacrifice a few members of my flock to help feed the pack. Besides if I, for whatever reason, do somehow cause hypothetical trouble, someone of your caliber can take care of me easily, right?”

Cwmfen nic Graine · 08-08-2010, 09:21 PM

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That’s okay—you’re not slow, I am! I don’t normally post on the weekends, so I’m just writing when I have a chance. Tomorrow I may only be able to reply once! But this joining thread is my priority! (And yes, Anna did a nice job on your table, ^=^) I think that one more exchange and Ife will be accepted~
500+

The Dahlian approved of the coyote-canine’s quick response. The Warrior believed that all members should respect one another, and she knew that Conor would agree. “It is fine; I understand the barriers that cultures may present,” the soft alto sang in response. “But you must adapt to the differences. While Dahlia de Mai welcomes all canines, we are mainly wolf-run. The wolf’s culture is prominent here.” A pack was a family unit, and each member relied on one another to be there to support and contribute to the pack. That was how a pack functioned. Like an army, a pack was a unit that was as strong as its weakest player. “Should I find that you will be an acceptable member, we as a pack will help you with your needs.” Dahlia wished to survive, and she was struggling to heal from the wounds that Haku had made upon her. The borders had remained, strong however, since her departure, and the Warrior, who had pledged her loyalty to the safety of the pack and to the pack’s leadership, hoped that she could protect each and every member. Cwmfen was ready to fight, for that was her purpose. Cwmfen was ready to die, for that was her doom.

The black female listened patiently and did not interrupt the ‘jackal’. It seemed as if Ife Yahimba. Had a passion of her own: the care and use of the pre-animals about her. The wolf understood a little of what Ife Yahimba could offer to the pack, but she knew that it would be a good addition to have within Dahlia. The wolves that had adapted to the human vestiges as Ife Yahimba had would find these things useful—she was sure of it. The jackal could find a good place within the flower pack. The Raven Dreamer however, was most impressed by the offer to kill the prey-animals should the winter prove difficult. The Dahlian nodded thoughtfully. “It appears that you know exactly what you can offer to Dahlia de Mai.”

A faint, golden smile seemed to brighten the serenity of the Warrior’s features. “Ife Yahimba,” the faint, Caledonian lilt sang, “I am Cwmfen nic Graine, Warrior of Dahlia de Mai.” The Woaded wolf dipped her double-banded maw in respectful greeting. “I apologize for my prior hostility, but I wanted you to understand....” Cwmfen was not a wolf that was moved by anger—not often. Nor was she moved by fear. She was moved only by the frenzy and the songs of War, those songs that hummed eternally within her soul, that sang forth into the air and through her body. That song lit her tranquil eyes and made her soul burn white with the silver flames of Nemain’s moon in the dark heavens.

“If you are willing to learn and abide by the wolven laws, then I believe that Dahlia will benefit with your acceptance.” A brief pause was allowed to ensue. “You are correct in assuming that I will be one wolf that may deal with those who cause trouble,” the gentle warning sounded, “but I never act out of anger.” That was a promise, a law of her own soul.

Ife Yahimba · 08-08-2010, 10:49 PM

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Yay! How do you pronounce Cwmfen? Also I was wondering if Ife's barn could be somewhere in St.Pepin's Vineyards?

The petite jackal inwardly performed a happy dance at the faint acceptance in Cwmfen's tone. She tried to contain her outward joy -and failed miserably- and returned the black wolf's faint smile with a wide smile of her own. She was careful to keep her eyes averted though; She was not yet a member of Dahlia. She acknowledged the greeting by nodding her own head in turn. The faint sounds of a goat came from within her wagon and it reminded her of one more thing she needed to be sure of. While she made sure to keep her tone level and polite, Ife asked Cwmfen, "I will try my best to learn your ways; Though may I be so forward as to ask a question?"

Her question was a mere formality and she paused for a moment to elaborate. Her attention was momentarily drawn to the clay pot that sat beside her small campfire. Ife thought briefly of the young kid that had went into that stew. If she was accepted and it seemed to be going that way, she would finally have room to expand her flock instead of slaughtering every new addition to prevent overcrowding. Hopefully a neighbouring pack had some other animals that they were willing to lend to help prevent inbreeding. She needed to know if they had any suitable terrain however. Now serious brown eyes swept over to the seemingly serene wolf nearby, but she kept her gaze toward the paws of the black female.

"Do you have any suitable locations within your territory's borders to house my flock? I may be able to hunt but they are part of my lively hood; They are all I have left of home and I wish to ensure their safety." Ife might have offered to Cwnfen the chance to partake in her stew but the jackal assumed that cooked meat would not appeal to the black wolf. Putting the woollen glove back on, one she had knitted herself, she went and covered the pot with its lid before picking it up. Her nostrils flared as she took a whiff of what was inside and she could not feel the heat through her gloves. She walked over to the she-wolf and laid the pot at her paws while keeping her head momentarily bowed. "Whatever your decision may be; take this as a token of my gratitude for considering my request." So she just gave it to Cwnfen instead. She stood up and backed away.

Cwmfen nic Graine · 08-09-2010, 08:19 AM

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Cwmfen nic Graine = “Koom-ven nik Grahn-ya” ^=^ And sure—usually you just pick a place for your char to set up, as long as it’s reasonable to discriptions and reality, haha. I’ll have Cwmfen suggest it in this post! Also, Welcome to Dahlia! Once you get titled, you’ll be able to have other threads in DDM and other territories… You can make a request for threads in the Request Thread forum, if you haven’t already. If you have any questions feel free to ask or PM me!
400+

The genuine joy emanating from the strange foreigner reassured the Dahlian Warrior. “That is all that we can expect,” the quiet alto tones replied gently. The Caledonian-Korean recalled her own struggle to integrate herself within pack life. Even now, she felt that her presence within the pack was inadequate. Her tendency to be scarce and to keep her interactions with the pack members limited may have not been reminiscent of a pack wolf’s behavior, but she hoped that her efforts to keep Dahlia secure would compensate for that. Some things could not change within a Soul, and despite its current bittersweet quality, the Woaded Warrior still found her solitude to be pulchritudinous. She felt, also, that if she became close to the flower pack’s inhabitants, her inescapable doom may cause an emotional discomfort, for many were not accustom to dealing with Death. She would not wish such discomfort on any such wolf.

White eyes remained still as the wolf awaited the impending question. The request that was made was a reasonable one. A gentle and warm mirth flickered beneath the serene, impassive gaze. “Dahlia would not ask you to give up such a livelihood,” the silver tones assured. “There may be a place suitable for your flock in St. Peppin’s Vineyards. But you may settle in any place not taken by another member.” The Dahlian hoped that that would be enough for the jackal and her flock. The Warrior would make a mental note of her ultimate location; it would be ideal for the black female to steer clear of that place while hunting. Such obviously vulnerable prey would be difficult to turn down for one who still ran close to the wild wolves. “Welcome to Dahlia de Mai, Ife Yahimba.” Cwmfen stepped off to the side, her formal display indicating that the jackal may move into the borders of her new home.

Cwmfen’s white orbs remained a moment longer upon Ife Yahimba before turning towards the pot set before her. The wolf’s nose could smell what was beneath the clay lid—something warm and cooked. The scent of burnt flesh was unmistakable, but somehow it was different than merely burnt flesh. Having never experienced ‘soup’ before, the woad-marked fae was a little unsure as to how to eat it. “Thank you,” the soft alto replied gently, pausing slightly as if unsure as to whether the question she would ask would offend the new initiate. “How do you eat this?” The Warrior’s head tilted slightly to the side in question as she looked up at the jackal. Despite the fact that the black she-wolf did not normally eat burnt flesh, the smell beneath the pot called her forgotten hunger. And Cwmfen would never turn down a gift, for that would be a disrespectful gesture.

Hey, welcome to 'Souls. You've just joined the craziest bunch of wolf roleplayers on the vast internet. If you haven't done so already, you should check out the for detailed information about our werewolves and other general role playing information.

Now that you're accepted, you need to do two things:
___1. Make your first IC post within five days.
___2. Update your profile with a bit of background information on your character.

You can also start saving up . Check out the Open Threads and Thread Requestsforum for people looking to roleplay. You can post random out of character chat in the OOC Garbage with us, too.

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Ife Yahimba · 08-09-2010, 01:01 PM

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Cwmfen = Koomven? Anyway, I can't wait till I'm titled so I can rp with the others! Smile

Upon the sign of acceptance Ife quickly changed her stance; She shifted her weight back to her feet, her ears stood in their usual erect position and she met Cwmfen's gaze for a moment before replying, "Your welcome, and is there truly only one way to eat anything?- but I usually drink the broth and then scarf down the meat inside. Admittedly a little messy, but hey, it works for me. You can keep the pot that the meat's in too. After you clean it and it dries you can use it as storage." While not the biggest pot she owned, it was large enough to double as a storage container and it had been used to store dried meats before. It was about fifteen inches tall and about twenty inches wide around its widest point. It was spherical with a flat bottom and swirling patterns were stained onto it's side.

The black-backed jackal paused to think of her reply to the black she-wolf's comment before she responded, “That is more than enough for me, and I would be delighted to join the Dahlia de Mai Pack.” Ife swept around, showing one's back was obviously a sign of trust, and quickly scooped up some soil to extinguish her little camp fire. Once she was sure it would no longer be a threat unattended, she patted her large shire horse on her way to the wagons seat before jumping up. Once she settled, she grabbed the reigns, and said, "I look forward to meeting the rest of the pack."

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