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((hey if you guys ever want new pictures to manip I have some if you wanna make a spring type layout or something. Just thought I would donate. Webshots Album))
<style="color:#768894">The sounds of knife on wood shifted into the morning sky as wood shavings fell like snow in the winter months. Memories of the major fire that erupted and destroyed homes were still lingering in the minds of the victims. Many were possibly lost on all sides, and mourning would last for some time. She had no one to mourn over. No one to look forward to coming home. No one in her life she deemed important. Her cream colored pelt matched the coloration of the wood shavings as she picked one of them up and looked upon its twisting ends. She could hear it. The screaming of the trees. The groans of the dying as they toppled over. And the roar of the beast that claimed them. The Wild Fire. It destroyed her home, her life, and her family. It was the cause of why she had no one left. It was the reason why she was alone. Why she had no siblings, no parents, no offspring. Even her mate had been engulfed in the flame along with their only son. She had no children. The knowledge of his death she knew, but she didn't believe it really. It would hit her hard soon enough. As she carved her flute, she chizled(sp?) away at the small piece of wood. She could have made a tin pipe, but she had no tin to work with, and she preferred the more woody sounding flutes compared to the sharp tones of the tin. Shrrp! Shrrp! Shrrp! The sounds echoed in her ears as she carved away. Her cream colored pelt that was still thick from the winters waved in the small breeze that rolled through as her golden optics carefully watched her movements with the knife in her hand. As she finished her third flute, she smiled. So far, she made one in the key of D, C and now A. She liked her flutes. It was a hobby she rather enjoyed. But she hated doing it alone. She liked to learn new things, and so far, she didn't have anyone to teach her anything. It would have been nice to meet some one who would be willing to teach her something.
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Salutations =) I don't know if this applies or not, but if you're having trouble putting spaces between your paragraphs within your table, typing should get you the spaces you need.
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Following the sound of the woodwind, the towering warrior-wolf wove between the trees. Eight feet of sinewy, bronze-furred, scarred werewolf. He turned his one ear toward the sound--the one that hadn't been severed in the war with the shadow priests. It was a pretty sound. He had heard music before, but had never had a talent for it. The wolf was phenomenal at fighting, largely because he had the mental discipline to practice what he'd learned to perfection. Using that, he should have been able to be good at almost anything he chose, but he had never shown a flare for music, and had never had an instrument, nor stayed in one place long enough to contemplate picking one up and learning.
"Do you..." he saw the female sitting there, realizing that his appearance would be striking, and that he should have probably announced his presence before now. "I'm sorry for interrupting. My name is Skoll. I was wondering, do you know any songs for that? I heard it a few moments ago, it made a beautiful sound." The warrior stood awkwardly there for a moment. He was adorned with a deerskin wrapped about his waist, serving primarily as something he could fasten his small rectangular shield to on his left side. A synthetic human pack holding a piece of vaguely shaped wood, an axe, a fighting knife, and a carving knife, hung on his right. The two looked very iconic as they stood apart in the clearing, the image of war standing beside the image of harmony.
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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Yeah xD I decided not to add them in xD I will this time. Also, the player down at the bottom will help you with the song shes playing. Make sure to listen to the whole thing to get to the quick beat shes playing.
<style="color:#768894">Playing the song on her D toned flute, she played what sounded to be like a cross between a Native American tune and a Celtic Jig. It reflected the sadness of war, and the rejoice of reuniting with a loved one. Her fingers floated over the note holes like butterflies over flowers. Graceful and beautiful. As she listened to a voice behind her, her left gray audit swiveled and a moment later, so did the rest of her body. Her feathers hanging around her ears, neck and left hip swiveled as she turned around and her golden optics looked at the scarred werewolf. She stopped playing her cherrywood flute and set it down. Her voice emitted a goddess like tone as she spoke to him. Smiling, she nodded.
Aye. Indeed I know a few tunes for the wood whistle. Would you like me to play a few?
As she put the flute to her mouth, she played a quick beated tune from her flute. As she did, she slowly stood up and began to dance to it. It was something that her mother taught her when she was rather little. Occasionally she would kick out with her left foot and do a spin. As she did, the pollen from the flowers swirled around her as the feathers flew in the air as they clung to the fur of her body. She spun and jumped a couple times as she played the song. It only lasted a couple of minuets and it ended. She smiled as she breathed quick a little bit. How was that now? she asked in her Irish like accent.
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Dude, great idea with the song. Got me up to speed =)
Skoll had never danced before. There had been no music in StoneTree, the desolate, frigid waste where he'd been born. There had been no music for him at the creek. There had been no music as he traveled alone from place to place, seeking the legend of HawkWind. He had heard song, he had heard poetry, little more. He knew of flutes, he knew of stringed instruments. Nevertheless, he had never seen anything that approached her complete immersion into the sounds coming from the wooden pupe at her lips. As she danced, he closed his eyes, listening to the cadences and flow of the music. As she finished, he opened his eyes.
"That was wonderful. Well done. I haven't heard anyone play one of those in a very long time. I've only seen two or three in my life. You have a gift." He wasn't sure what to say. This woman was a part of the pack, he knew, but he hadn't formally met her yet. She had feathers strung about her hair, and seemed mature, not subject to the strangely high proportion of youth that pervaded the Souls population. It truly was strange how many two and three year olds he'd seen around. He wondered vaguely what it was about this place that appealed solely to younger wolves. Maybe it was just that older wolves were more likely to have found another place to live already.
"We are very lucky to have a musician in the pack with us. Storytellers, a musician, Shadowed Sun will be a very good place for the spirit in days to come. I am glad to have met you, eh..." He fumbled a moment. He didn't know her name.
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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<style="color:#768894">She chuckled as she remembered she had forgotten to tell her name. Aye, I do apologize. I am Angelique du Coudray. she said as she bowed a little. Putting the pipe back with her others in her leather bag she had on her hip, she smiled. Indeed she was rather talented. She had gotten it from her mother. Thank ye. I haven't had compliments like that for a long time. she said with a smile. She really hadn't had some one who had been willing to listen to her play her music like he had. Thank you for listening to me play. She had grown up in a place where they communicated with music. Since she was born they had taught her how to play with different types of instruments, and how to make those instruments. She had yet to make a violin like she wanted, for there was no horse hair around to make the strings out of. But no matter. She had other ideas for that. Would you like me to teach you how to play one?
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She was a charming woman. He would never have guessed the hardships she had recently undergone. The fire had been hard on him, having lived in Bleeding Souls for over half of his long life, but hadn't had any true family there to lose. At the prospect of learning to play himself, his ear fell back as he shook his head, doing his best to turn down her offer respectfully.
"I apologize. Teaching an old wolf like me to play one of your instruments would be a great gift, and I thank you for extending the invitation. I am already trying to improve at two other skills, and require much of my day to keep myself sharp for my primary function as a protector of this place. If this were not true, I would gladly accept." It was a shame, too, but between improving his carvings and learning to read, he had no time to learn another superfluous skill. Having two pastimes was enough for Skoll, though he would also share tales at any opportunity. It was his discipline that made him who he was; he would not undertake a new goal lightly, and he could not take on another without siphoning time away from his existing goals.
He had gained the skills he used today by practicing with his mentor many hours a day, every day, for six months. From there, he had proceeded to practice every day alone for one to three hours from that time and onto this day, over four years later. He had engaged in many skirmishes, a few wars, taken students of his own, and protected many borders. Every fighter had natural strengths to build on, he'd learned; his was discipline, the determination to complete his task unto perfection, and then improve it from there. He wasn't as serious about his wood-carving as his fighting, but even when he was relaxing Skoll was still more serious than many individuals. There might come a day when he felt that he was good enough at it that he didn't need to actively carve for the sake of practice any longer. On that day, he could undertake a new challenge.
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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Sorry. College finals got in the way,  Gradded from class so now I am back.
<style="color:#768894">Nodding, she took his decline respectively. She could see he was possibly not a young wold anymore, so she wished not to fill him with more challenges than he needed. Alright. When ye feel up to playing a lesson, come find me. she said as she smiled and sat back down into the grass. So how long have ye been here? I have only just arrived after bloody flames sucked our our home. It was a devastating flame at that. she said as she looked to the ground sadly. Pulling out her deer skin bag, she rummaged around in it for the beading she had started on earlier. It was a leather knife sheath with beading in the shape of a wolf. It was not fully complete yet. She had skills to make clothing, medicine, and other goods for the pack if the Alphas so desired her to. She learned it from her mother after all.
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What are you apologizing for? You've been replying very quickly! If a few hours between every reply is standard for you, then it is I that must apologize for being unable to keep up!
"In Shadowed Sun? Not long at all, only since a few days after the fire," he said, glad she hadn't pushed the flute playing. He doubted he'd be much good at it anyway. He enjoyed telling stories, but many of those were dramatic, it was hard for him to imagine himself doing something so carefree as creating the tune he'd just heard come out of her instrument. Even his carvings were of those that had fallen in battle, serving as keepsakes to hold their memory.
"But if you're asking about the Bleeding Souls valley, I've spent half of my life there, which is to say three and a half years, though I suppose to did depart for a short time during that interval to address an issue that needed the attention of...well, someone who does what I do." He said this as casually as possible. He didn't take pride in the fact that he fought, but rather that he fought well. The same as most who had worked hard to develop a skill. Angelique probably felt the same way about her flute; she wasn't proud that she could play it, she was proud that she was good at it.
"I lived in a pack called Storm for the duration of that time, fulfilling the wish of my great great grandfather, HawkWind, who had lived there before me. He said that the wolves there had given him sanctuary, and that I should repay them, something he couldn't do at his age." His journey from StoneTree to Storm had been a long one, which spanned hundreds of miles of winding trail. Still, despite all of his--colorful--life experiences, he had never known the simple pleasures that Angelique had gained from having a family, nor the depth of sorrow that she had undoubtedly faced when confronted with losing them. "What of you? I never met you, even in my many years there. Where did you live that you eluded notice?"
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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Oh! That was just in the coding from a while ago xD Ignore it.
<style="color:#768894">A smile grew to her lips as he spoke of Storm and Bleeding Souls. Aye! Aye! I used to live in Storm pack too! I had heard of ye, but never really got to meet ye. I had a hard time with my past life in Bleeding Souls. I had to go back to my homelands to figure out who my birth parents really were. she frowned as she looked to the ground. I am afraid they are not the parents I would have hoped to meet. Weak minded and weak hearted, they were trapped in a pack meant only for slavery, entertainment and continuation of lines. The werewolves that I was raised with were much stronger than they and had escaped the grasp of their claws. she said as she shrugged. I was gone on travels for a year, and only spent three weeks with them with part of that being captured myself. Able to escape, I came back here. However, I do not know what their outcome has become now. A sad look came to her face. She would have loved to rescue her parents and to bring them back here where they could live out the rest of their lives peacefully. But no. They chose not to leave for they were afraid of the leader that ran the pack. They were afraid that he would hunt them down and eventually kill them and Angelique. Rolling it past her mind, she looked back up to the male. But I am sure they would have escaped safely by now. she said to him sarcastically.
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"Truly?" Embarrassment showed on his scarred face for a moment at the realization. Had she come in after Gibraltar exiled him, or had she been living in his pack and he'd simply never met her? Gibraltar had been wrong to punish him for protecting Naniko, to distrust him for fighting off the Lykois, there was no shame in what he had done not knowing the goings-on in Storm during that time. If they had lived there simultaneously, though...well, if that were the case, it was simple testament to a mistake he'd made in living his life. He spent his days alone on the border, protecting it alone, contemplating life and his experiences alone. He had nothing against company, but few people wanted to attend their duties as frequently as he did, and his duties demanded his presence at the border, seldom in the interior.
"I am sorry to hear about your parents. It hurts to want to rescue someone who does not want to be rescued...believe me, I know the feeling." The wolves of Bleeding Souls could have dealt with Inferni long ago had it the inclination. Instead, they turned to look the other way as the number of murders steadily climbed. When someone did something about it, they sought to punish him, out of their own shame for needing him, for not addressing the problem themselves. Inferni had merely to say the word, and they'd had Gibraltar wrapped around their little finger. He had thought that he had been at least a permissable leader, but he had been a pathetic man. He wasn't sure if he could say the same thing about the red-furred leader of Jaded Shadows, whom he had met, though he didn't know it. She had an unexplained loyalty to the Lykois, despite their murdering of her own wolves. He wasn't sure if her loyalty was a product of fear or something else.
"My parents cared for my siblings and I quite a lot. There wasn't enough food for the pack to support three new mouths, though, so they knew that they had to send someone away. I was the biggest and the sturdiest of the alphas' pups, the one who would eat the most and the one most likely to survive through the poor conditions of that northern waste. They chose me." Neither of them had good memories of their parents. Skoll could at least respect his, for which he was greatful. Still, on the extremely off-chance that his parents even still lived, he didn't think he would have anything to say to them. That day, six years ago, he had started a new life of his own. One which did not include them.
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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<style="color:#768894">She chuckled as she shook her head. No need to apologize. I figured that had happened when I was released to my cousins to grow under their care. I just took the time to go off and find them to see if it were really true. And it was. she said as she rolled her shoulders into a shrug. She hated the thought that she had come from a weak line. She deplored it. But it couldn't be helped. But on the inside, she was strong. She knew that. She was raised to be that way. A true independent woman for sure. She looked at the male. Bypassing all the scars submitted on his body, he was a rather handsome looking male. She smiled at him. So what brings ye out on this day?
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Sorry I'm a little late, school is being crazy.
"Not much," he said, letting the topic of families slide. It was strange that it had come up, considering that it was an uncomfortable topic for both of them. Hers was certainly more recent and painful, however. He had left his parents behind long ago...a full lifetime, surely. "I was simply exploring a little. My duties require my attention most of the time, but the air was clear and no one was within the wild field of view afforded by my post high on the hill, so I decided to get to know the layout of my new pack land a little better." It had been her flute playing that had brought him to this place in particular.
"Back in Storm I spent most of my free time either musing to myself or making carvings. Most of them were lost in the fire, and I gave the last one I had with me to a young visitor from the Snow-Capped Pine, a pack I have friendly relations with. I've begun work on a new one, but I felt that learning the layout of this place was a higher priority." Of skills, there were very few that Skoll could teach, but with much practice and quality instruction from Gale, he had become proficient with this one. Perhaps he would give reconsideration to flute playing soon, though for now he still wasn't convinced that he was satisfied with the level of skill he currently possessed.
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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Leaving for Shasta California for the weekend tomorrow morning, so sorry its short. Will be gone till sunday.
<style="color:#768894">Grinning, she chuckled. Ye make carvings? Aye! I do the same! she said as she pulled out a carving of an eagles head [link here. It was carved beautifully and it had taken her weeks to do it. Aye, me and my adopted father did this one together. I had kept a hold on it after he had passed into the spirit world. she said as she rolled her shoulders in a shrug. What carvings do you make? She said as she looked up to the male. Indeed, if he was into carving, it should be interesting on what they could make carving together. A smile came to her face as she thought about it.
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Have fun in California =)
"Wow," he said, studying the artwork she held in her hand. He had only known how to carve for a year and a half, so he couldn't match the skill depicted in the piece she held now. He was good, but the fine detail of the feathers wasn't something that he could match with his carving knife. "I'm quite impressed. I don't think I could do detail that fine if I tried. Mostly I carve likenesses of fallen friends, those I don't see any more. I also do figures from lore. I had something of a collection back home, but as I mentioned before, most of it probably burned...though it was six inches underground, so it might have survived. I may need to go back and see what I can salvage from back home."
He had started with much simpler things, his first carving had been a crescent moon, which he'd kept in his collection just for posterity. Other simple shapes had helped him gain control over the wood, from paw prints to two-dimensional wolf shapes. As his skill improved, he saw in carving a way of preserving the friends that he'd lost, at least for future generations, to go along with the stories he would tell of them. As much as history mattered to him, it still felt strangely empty to have a wooden representation of a memory.
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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<style="color:#768894">She shrugged her shoulders as she looked at her carving. This one took me years. I just added details as I saw fit, and I finished it only two weeks ago. I am not normally this good however. She said as she set the carving down and pulled out another that she had been starting on. It was all misshapened and lumpy. Typically that was her skills. I wouldn't mind if I learned new techniques. That one my adopted father helped me on before... I lost him in the fire. she said as she turned and looked at the burnt remains of the forest across the river. She would miss them entirely and she had not yet created a memorial for them. "It is a part of life though. Some die, some live. We can't choose who goes and who stays."
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Sorry for my slowness, this week is crazy, I'm glad to have found a little bit of time to do this.
"No, we can't choose," he said slowly, reflecting on many fallen comrades he would rather not have lost. Xander, Fly, Galdra, Tymara, Graelthrim, he would wish them all back if he could. All his friends, one his lover, it wasn't right that they were gone now. Not right by them, not right by their friends and loved ones. It's so much harder to mourn for those whose deaths you were responsible for... He had sent Tymara and Grael to their deaths, Xander had died fighting a battle that Skoll shouldn't have let him fight alone, Galdra...she had died by his own hand. Even so, he had never known real family past the first year of life. He wondered if he should be grateful to have never lost anyone so close to him, if it meant never having them.
"As far as wood carving, well, I'm not a master at the skill, but I know how to do wolf bodies pretty well at this point. Even if it was mostly your father, I'm sure you could teach me something about fine detail." He wouldn't mind learning something new, either, and even though it was only a recreational skill, he would still take joy in the perfection of his abilities. As with fighting, he would always seek improvement.
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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