I'll Come Back, When You Call Me.

Frodo Silvertongue · 11-26-2011, 03:56 AM

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OOC here! First reply for Jace. I'm going to say AW after that just because it's a packland. wc; 776

Although the wolf was still short, and young, and innocent, he was no longer a boy. He held more depth in him now. He was now a year and nine months of age, his legs had grown strong and lean, thin and gangly in contrast to the rest of his body, but even so, a sign of being finally fully-grown. The youth had grown out of his constant excitement, though he was no way near as serious as numerous canines. Frodo still was carefree, and happy. Perhaps this was not the way to be, because he had been through terrible, terrible ordeals the past months and even before that, he had pain in his life. But it was the way he was, and the way, it seemed, he would always be. This man could not be broken, and no matter how much he was punished he would still stand strong. He was a warrior that didn’t fight. He was a knight that didn’t wield a sword. He was a prince that had not a king as a father, but a common gypsy as a sire. And he had been shunned from his family, so he had no heritage, and had no title, but was a nobleman all the same, as noble as they came.

He had not a bad bone in his body, unless you were talking physically, because he felt damp in his bones, and weak.. He was not healthy any more. Sure, he looked quite strong, but the truth was, he was malnourished and worn out, and fatigued, dehydrated. The muscles he had been gradually growing were hard, yes, but he was skinny and they didn’t show. The laced, brown, peasant’s shirt on his body was cold and hard, and stained red at the back where his half-healed whip-wounds were. He had stopped feeling them now. For, he had no reason to remember them, because he didn’t remember anything. Frodo had not banged his head, or done anything of the sort to affect his memory. He just chose not to remember, and that was the way it was, until he chose otherwise.

Frodo was slumped on his steed, a creature as noble as Frodo was. The Shagya Arabian was strong. The horse Strider would not be able to carry an average luperci-wolf, it was only because of Frodo’s petite, skinny build that he was able to stay Mr Silvertongue’s riding companion. Strider didn’t know anything about where they were headed; he had a general direction, and that was home. AniWaya had been their home, even if for a short while. But now Strider was lost, and as tired as Frodo. They were both slowly lacking in speed, and had no idea where they were as they tumbled into Phoenix Forest. Just on the outskirts of the pack territory, without realising it. Frodo’s senses were not working properly, really. Striders were, but he couldn’t detect the scent of wolf properly, as he was a horse, and he too was exhausted.

Frodo was of course in optime form, to be able to ride his horse properly. The young man was mostly black furred, with an auburn mane and golden flecks around his face. All of his fur was curly, and his eyes were a bright, startling green that twinkled now in the sun. His eyes were flecked with light and wisdom despite his tender age, the mans whole body reeked of innocence. If someone were to come upon him in the territory, they would at least be able to tell he could do no harm, despite trespassing. And boy, was he exhausted. This was clear, as finally he rode his horse into the centre of the Phoenix Forest, and then lost it completely.

He collapsed, slipping to the side, falling slowly and landing hard onto the ground. The solid thump echoed around the lands, a harsh, loud sound amidst the utter silence that had previously settled. Strider, the white stallion, got anxious as his rider fell, and pawed at the ground, snorting and shouting in the language of equines. He cantered a full circle around Frodo and continued to whinny. Frodo lay unconscious, exhausted and dehydrated, oblivious to what was going on around him. Thankfully, he was not caught in the stirrups, and his saddle and saddle bags still sat smugly upon Strider. And like the loyal companion Strider was, Strider did not spook, and leave his rider like most of his kind. He just continued to paw the ground and canter small circles, fearing for Frodo, and fearing for what came next.

Jace Wolfe · 11-26-2011, 05:01 AM

3+
Never fear for Jace is here Big Grin

She had taken time out on this day from her hectic child filled life to indulge in a spot of lone hunting. She did not chase deer or elk but rather rabbits and voles, small furry things that should technically be asleep or close to it in their winter burrows. But there were always those few that could not resist the last shoots and greenness that stubbornly clung to life. And it were these that faced the hunter today; the stragglers and the greedy who died underneath her teeth and claws. These that she fell on and parted from their mortal coil with a deft flick of her jaws to snap bone and nerves.

She was a talented hunter and soon had a small pile of rabbits to show for her efforts, although once the word had spread about a grey scale killer on the loose the remaining rabbits had descended underground where she could not reach them without massive effort on her part, effort she was not willing to make, not for a few measly rabbits. She had what she desired and the five of them were carried in her paw by their overlong back legs, never to kick or move again. She had just been debating whether or not to go straight back to her house or to visit Noah first when the sound of hoof beats against the forest floor.

This wasn't really unusual, some of the other pack siblings did have horses that they could actually ride unlike her two mule in horse's clothing. But the sound of a sudden thump and then an equine voice calling out for help dragged her attention fully. She did not smell Ichika and if it had been a pack mate it most certainly would have been noticeable. The hybrid broke into a fast jog in the direction it had come from. What she didn't expect was to see a fallen rider with his horse dancing about in nervous circles. Jace dropped the rabbits out of the way and began to approach with her paws held up muttering soothing words in low speech to the incensed animal.

Frodo Silvertongue · 11-26-2011, 06:44 AM

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Indeed! wc; 541

The horse trusted no one but Frodo. Strider was ornery, untrained, and unpredictable. It took a trained horseman to approach him and an expert to ride him. Strider had gypsy blood, strong and true, running through his veins, and he was one of a kind. The equine had been born well and bred well, but had suffered just as Frodo had, and often Frodo wondered how Strider had survived all this time. To be brought from suffering was an impossible task in the horse's mind, and it was only loyal to one man, the man that had brought him up. The white horse snorted. And it was white. A horseman could tell you again and again that white was not a true horse colour, that a horse was not white but gray, but you looked at Strider and saw white. A pristine, glittering coat he had, with no spots of darker white or even dirt. How he managed to keep so clean was unknown, but the horse's ravishing beauty came at a price.

Strider got nervous when the female approached, the pales of his eyes showing. He was not phased by the rabbits thrown casually over her shoulder; this was usual to see, because Frodo was a skilled hunter. But the fact that a stranger was approaching him and his boy was frightening. Impulsively, he let his ears clasp firmly against his skull, and he stopped short, staring at the fey. The equine snorted and reared, cantering a protective circle around Frodo and bucking in-between strides. Perhaps this would scare her away.

At this point, the wolf on the ground stirred with a moan. Two pale eye lids snapped open suddenly, and the startling green-blue eyes were revealed. The first thing Frodo did was instinctively put his fingers around the ring that lay on a chain around his neck. And then he tilted his head, just a little, letting out a groan to see a wild Strider rushing around madly, and a wolfdog by their side. Lasto beth nin. Cano an dregad. he muttered to Strider, a soft voice in a harsh manor. His voice was always softer when he was speaking the ancient tongue. The horse protested by stamping a hoof on the dirt floor, but then was still. Frodo tilted his head a little more once he was sure Strider would wait, and examined the female. Her form was blurred, and he could not tell whether she would hurt him or not.

His voice was broken as he addressed her, and held back. All in all, his rough chords were strange. He had lost some of his country, gypsy-like twang over the months, and picked up some of a sea-legged accent from his days on the ship. But the country was still there, and he sounded very different to most. If you're gonna kill me, make it quick, eh jeeves? Be a nice little snickersnee and lay off the handy-cuffs. And I'm wantin' a nice proper burial, under-the-neath of the dirt and all that. Get it? Got it? Good.the mixed up mumblings of a half-dead man did not usually make much sense, thought Frodo as he struggled to keep his eyes open. And with that, he passed out again.

X'yrin Exultare · 11-26-2011, 10:58 AM

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ooc: 547 words. .

Avian wings carried a body of speckled umber and white across the muted sky, with master kept within his sights below. The brilliant blue of the sky was shrouded in the anticipant veil of winter’s front just on the brink of sprinkling the first light snow. Even now a pre-winter mist hung in the air, the frost clinging to the wings of the owl in flight as he made his routine scout across the lands ahead. His piercing cry signaled to his earthbound companion the skies and land were clear around them, before his body dive from his graceful arch to land purposefully upon the shoulder perch of the optime female. “Thank you, my friend,” the Nomad’s tone was soft and somber. A great deal of life had been drained from the past days events. Her betrayal of the young mother’s trust still burdened her heart and mind, depressing her mood to reflect the darkened skies that hung above them. She had made such a mess of things because of her selfishness and was lost in knowing how to repair the damage dealt.

Yet the woman was not reward reprieve simply because of her mistake. There were tasks still to be adhered to for the sake of protecting Ichika and her interests. Routinely she and her faithful owl patrolled the borders, realigning and marking the borders so all would know this land was claimed and protected. Though her task was meaningful, she could take little pride in it this day, what with other daunting thoughts garnering her attention. Measured steps carried her along her usual sectors of the territory, predominately the Dahlia and Phoenix grounds since the Wentworth was always under her watchful eye.

However her unhurried steps would face the consequence of intrusion as the at last ventured into the forest’s midst. The scent of a comrade as well as a stranger graced and flared her nostrils with alarm. “Go,” she uttered urgently to her companion still clasped protectively to her shoulder. Without contest the bird took flight darting a path through the ominous canopy to where possible danger lied. Her own pace hastened as lengthy limbs tore a path through the fallen flora, following the scent of unfamiliarity… and death.

A subtle part of the woods was seen before her but was not a stage of danger nor death. Instead a lone horse circled a fallen body in frantic steps while near stood one of Ichika’s own attempting to pacify the startled animal. Hastily the woman looked around for her own companion hoping to catch sight of him near the scene with his ever watchful wide gaze. He sat just above them, carefully pruning his wings, indifferent to the scene unfolding below. Obviously he sensed no immediate danger, encouraging that the woman address her packmate at last. “My Lady?” she inquired, nose wrinkling to the scent of milk and young that clung to her. The death she had smelled nothing more than a couple of hares tossed carelessly to the ground. “Is everything alright?” She crept closer toward the fallen male, still wary of the anxious animal. She reached out with an umber hand to touch the shoulder of the woman and draw her away if need be. “Do you know this male, my Lady?”

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Jace Wolfe · 11-27-2011, 06:56 PM

I was listening to Circle of Life while i wrote this XD
slight pp'ing of Strider :3 hope it's okay. Also Jace is like super mum XD
5+

She had never feared horses in all of her life, she held respect and admiration for them yes but not fear, never fear. So the male's display of aggression did not perturb her as it should have done. Instead she felt the keen instinct to herd the animal but that she resisted with some ferocity, attempting to herd a horse was not a smart thing to do. Despite the obvious that her calming words were not working she continued to mutter anyway in hopes that something could get through to him. She ceased however when the formerly unconscious male woke up and said something to the white horse in a language strange to her, calmness settled and she eyed the pair of them warily.

A few steps forwards to better hear the words he spoke. A strange and mixed accent greeted her ears from a voice that was parched and dry, a body that was skinny and abused. He passed back into the black void before she could respond to his confused rambling but still her words carried on,

"Fear not Stranger, death comes not for you this day." The scent of another, an Ichikan female drew near and Jace felt a hand on her shoulder along with questioning words. She had not spoken to the woman personally before but had seen her around and knew of her name, the owl perched nearby did not escape her notice.

"X'yrin." She said by way of greeting. "No I do not but I believe we have an opportunity to do good here, assist another back into true life." She took a few more tentative steps forwards, letting the golden hand slide from her person as concern overtook her. She looked to the stallion and whispered I will help him If the horse wanted to attack her then he was welcomed to but she had only eyes for the fallen. She kneeled down next to him and placed two fingers at his throat feeling a pulse that was slow and weakening all the time. His skin was taught with dehydration, bones stuck out and muscle was barely visible. With a determined snort she got to her feet and leaned down and picked up the male with a show of strength that was amazing for her small size. He was placed on her shoulder where he would be easier to carry, compared to Ookami's massive weight that she had dragged befoer this man weighed almost nothing to her,

She turned to the woman that was now her aid, her voice quiet but with a steely strength, if X'yrin wished not to help her then Jace would do this alone but her opinion of the woman would be severely lessened,

"There is a cabin not five minutes walk from here. It has a stream running next to it for water and a bed to lay him in. Would you mind gathering up my catch." She nodded towards the rabbits that still lay on the ground like old forgotten socks.

Frodo Silvertongue · 11-28-2011, 05:28 PM

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:3 wc; 612

He had certainly not passed out before hearing the reassuring words of the fey that stood over him. As Frodo lay in what could be passed as a sort of coma-like state, he could hear little whispers of voices but nothing more. However, he’d heard Jace telling him not to fear just before he passed out, and he did just that. The way she spoke seemed ludicrously different to what he’d been used to, but the amount of accents and voices he’d over the past few months had certainly become somewhat of a common thing to hear, and Frodo had been constantly listening to different ways of tongue. The sharp eared boy could detect both slang and long words now, and identify them into an understanding language of his own, inside the comforting walls of his head. He'd decided that the two - female - voices he could hear, however incoherently, were most definitely "well spoken", or "finely educated".

The man was far from peaceful looking despite being in a deep, trance sort of sleep. His eyes were shut but his face wasn’t calm, it looked thick with pain, and like butter spread over too much bread it was taut and bony, lost was the childish and bouncy bonniness, and the round, wide muzzle that looked so sweet. The youth looked less like a child than he’d ever been, and much more of a grown man. His fingers twitched ever so slightly as he was picked up gently, but nothing more than that did he stir.

Strider was intense and snorting like a truly wild beast, his hooves scraping the earth in befuddlement and a pure tension. He wanted nothing more than to whip his boy away from the fiends where he could care for Frodo, but despite this urge he was confident he knew not of medicine that wouldn’t help those not of his kin. Sure, Frodo was like kin to him, but as a horse Strider knew that the only “medicines” he knew of was those that would help a fellow horse that was feeling unwell, or a foal that was weak. And these were simply different grasses or leaves. Grasses, or leaves, would not help Frodo know. He needed help from his own kind, and the white stallion could only stand there, distraught and beaten, and fierce. But not attacking. He followed as soon as Jace picked up Frodo, and would continue following until he knew Frodo was safe, and they could be together again.

It was when Frodo was strewn upon the wolf’s shoulder for more than a minute, that he started twitching a little more, and he opened bleary eyes to the ground, and a confused expression landed on his face. He stay still, noting he was being carried, and despite being warned before hand that death wasn’t to come to him, he couldn’t help but think of it being death himself carrying him off into the unknown. He stared at the muddy floor, his brain still quite jumbled and full of useless ramblings. Hate to tell ya, squire, but hope that you’re gone from here soonish, before they get their teeth into you. Trust me, young man, you do not want to stay for dinner. who was he talking to? Himself, probably. It was all sort of unclear to the small, lightweight man. The curly furred male gave another twitch, and then blacked out again. And he probably wouldn’t wake up again, at least, not until he was at the cabin; if Jace managed to get him there, and serve her intentions purposefully, of course.

X'yrin Exultare · 11-28-2011, 05:48 PM

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ooc: 256 words. .

To help another did not trouble her, but the nature of this circumstance certainly did. The Nomad left attempts to calm the horse to the more capable female while she observed the fainted male instead. He smelled heavily for the wild, a compilation of scents melding together to create an alluring musk no single scent could compare.

Her musings were interrupted once her hand fell away from the lady’s shoulder, reminding of its reason for being there. She stepped back to allow the woman room as she hoisted the male upon her shoulder with impressive strength. Clearly birthing hadn’t hindered the woman’s ability any. Obediently she procured the woman’s catch, slinging carelessly across her shoulder as she followed after her caring guide. Truly in this moment, Ichika lived up to its expectations of providing to those that warranted the need. However, X’yrin was not so open to look upon this situation as transpiring without some conflict.

Her awareness of the other was well placed upon him, not branding him with prejudice eyes, but scrutinizing this form for sign of awakening. She remained at the ready should she be called to action though wore the mask of placidity. Conversation was an unnecessary luxury better reserved for the Samaritan and the recipient of her mercy. Yet incoherent ramblings proceeded from his deluded lips, heavily accented words distorted as they were spoken without meaning. Silently the woman hoped this was all part of his unfortunate condition and that the merciful lady hadn’t stumbled upon a victim of mental ailment.

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Jace Wolfe · 12-04-2011, 07:38 PM

5+

The victimized man was truly a creature of just skin and bones, Jace could feel his ribs pressing against the bone of her collar and shoulder, it was painful but not overly so besides she had weathered worse than this in an attempt to save people from harm. Her right leg suddenly burned and the once fur-less part of her tail itched annoyingly. She could remember vividly dragging her mountain of a friend through three foot deep snow with her right leg unusable and strength fading quickly. The female shrugged off the old memories for they brought up feelings of abandonment, she wondered where Falgar and Kami and Ty and Pendez had gone, Tala too, lots of them had gone missing after the announcement, it made her sad to think of her old friends out there alone. Or maybe not alone, maybe they had formed their own pack somewhere else without them.

The female pondered on all of this while the procession of three canines and a horse made their way towards the cabin that she remembered. Every so often she looked back to make sure his steed was still following, she didn't want to separate the pair for it was clear they had been through a lot together. She hoped maybe to one day have the same bond with Emmett but she knew it wouldn't be for a few years yet. The silence among them seemed natural apart from the traveler's one outburst of hallucinatory talk that Jace mainly ignored, muttering soothing cooing noises at the male to lull him back to sleep.

The cabin was still there as she remembered it, a small one floored wooden building with a chimney stack sticking out of the roof and half a tree's worth of vines creeping up its sides. It's two windows were broken but the glass from it had long since disappeared from the floor, weathered away and washed by rain. Next to it ran a small stream, no less than a foot or two across and only a few inches deep but the water was clear having come from the mountains. The door was no longer present on its hinges and instead lay on the floor to the side of the house. So Jace strode right on in and as carefully as she could put the man down onto the old bed she knew from experience was still usable. The cabin was beaten, battered and bruised but it still stood. The femme rubbed at her aching shoulder and flexed her fingers that had long ago gone numb, pricks and pins made it twitch and spasm as the feeling slowly came back to her.

Mismatched eyes intensely scrutinised the room around her, only one door was evident on the far side that led into a small room that was absent of furniture. In the main room though there was a simple wooden frame with furs on it that she had placed there on her last visit, a table sat against the opposite wall and carried a bucket and a wooden torch for light in the dark. Apart from that the rest of the room was empty as well.

Frodo Silvertongue · 12-10-2011, 11:50 AM

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wc; 625

The rest of his journey towards the cabin was in sleep and silence. He uttered not a word prior to the mumbled, crazy sentence he had emitted before, yet even so, in sleep he was reckless. The relentless man thought of redeeming and revenge. Redemption was a tricky subject and not one he’d really thought about before, but still it was there, lurking in his contorted mind. This wasn’t him. This wasn’t Frodo. His eyes were sealed shut but he could see figures of black moving above him, he could see ravens picking at carcasses and other literately impossible scenes, the detail in them rough but the main aspects as true as reality. There wasn’t really any ominous birds and beasts dancing around him. He just thought there was. X’yrin was right in thinking that, for the moment, he was simply quite deranged, however it was nothing permanent and the illusions and hallucinations just came from fatigue and dehydration. If nursed back to health properly- which to be fair, would only last a day if his saviour went about it the correct way, Frodo would be back to normal. Or at least, as normal as one could be in his circumstances. What was normal, anyway? To be average height, average looks, average personality? Frodo had never been any of those things. He'd always been abnormal. That was, if normal was actually a word. It shouldn't be a word, thought Frodo. There was nothing the same, or the norm. Everything was different, and was able to change.

When he was carried into the cabin, it seemed dark in contrast to the outside world. He could feel the change through damp lids as they entered. Frodo was tossed onto the bed quite gently, but the contact of his skinny, frail body was painful against the object. The horse Strider simply waited outside of the cabin, knowing it would be a stupid idea to go in, and thought about what would happen after Frodo pulled through. The wolf lay still on the bed, unmoving for quite a while until snapping his pale eye lids open, the intense green eyes of his swirling pools of melancholy. Those eyes of his… they were something. So much emotion in the soft, kind orbs. Anyone trained socially would be able to read him like a book. Frodo didn’t mind. He was open enough anyway. He held no secrets, nothing special secret wise any way. Of course, he had things he didn’t want to share, but if really probed into doing so, he would spill out his heart without being held back. The wild boy shook and drew back against one corner of the bed, with what strength he had left. Frodo was weak, so weak.

Through numb lips and constantly blinking eyes he addressed the two wolves. Perhaps there was once a time it was thought impossible to address someone with eyes. Not in Frodo’s case. They spoke and told a story just as much as his muzzle. Strider? he croaked, his voice a melodic calypso that wove it’s way in and out of walls. Of course he would ask for his horse. Not some water, or food, or just rest, seeing as it seemed the lady’s were kind enough to bend to his whim. He thought only of the horse. M…m-my horse… ? Holy ghost, he alright? he trailed off, his eyes flitting quickly between the wolves and then the cabin. He was unused to most luperci customs, but a cabin was similar to the gypsy, wooden caravans he’d been born and raised in. But Frodo was still unsure of the building, despite being quite familiar with it’s structure.

X'yrin Exultare · 12-10-2011, 11:50 PM

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In silence the Exultare trailed behind the woman and her newly invested charge. The burdened she carried nothing more than dead weight; as dead as the hare in the warrior’s possession. Playing the part of a servant was new to her, but given the circumstance, was not unwelcomed. Rather than dismiss herself from the small party, she instead kept close to the new mother, choosing to watch over her as she intended to treat this wandering fool instead of leaving them be alone. No part of the woman was paranoid by any means, simply concerned for the well being of her fellow Ichikan.

The golden Nomad was the epitome of silence. Even as they ventured toward the weathered shell of a cabin she said nothing as the lady Jace took the male dealt with fate’s misfortune inside. Or perhaps it was by ethereal grace he was found among a less hostile pack. Had he stumbled beyond the borders of any other… she shuddered to think of the consequence.

Role of guard was fully hers to embrace as she occupied a dusty spot of ground near the wall of the east end of the cabin. Truly there was nothing she could offer as far as aid in matters of healing and felt it better left to someone that apparently had the patience and will. X’yrin was content in keeping out of the way, her legs tucked comfortably under her body whilst she remained upright and alert. The lady’s catch was kept safely under her care, strung across her lap to keep from dirtying its precious meat and hide. Upon her muzzle was the soft glow of intrigue that only brightened when the unconscious male stirred from his delirious state to inquire about his companion animal; assuming he meant the horse and not some other creature yet to be seen. “Your Strider is fine,” she answered softly, nodding her head once to assure him. “Worry about yourself, stranger. You are not well.”

ooc: 330 words.

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Jace Wolfe · 12-20-2011, 01:38 PM

3+

The more she looked at the boy, for he was just that, only a boy, the more she felt the bile rising in the pack of her throat. Jace had seen many atrocities in her life and had performed a few herself but always whenever she saw a young one like this looking so beaten and starved it made her maternal instincts shine out, not that they needed any more persuasion to come out with her children being born now. This male couldn't be more than a year old and certainly not a full grown adult yet. His panic as he awoke and huddled himself against the wall made her frown even more, his eyes were a brilliant shade of green but were misted over with fear and pain, the orbs were haunted as they looked out at the two Ichikan women. His love for his horse was obvious and admirable, not many would strive to think of their companions when they themselves were in such a neglected state. Before she could answer his question X'yrin was already there with the answer and Jace nodded, hoping that the horse would neigh or nicker or something to prove to his owner that he was unharmed.

Jace took one of the dead rabbits from X'yrin's care with a gentle smile and held it out for him to take from her.

"Here have this, you need to eat and drink. Your body is shutting down and you'll die soon if you don't." There was a soft almost pleading note in her voice. She didn't want this boy, this child to die, far from it, she wanted him to live. It was as thought she could see him wasting away in front of her eyes, getting thinner, weaker, closer to death all the time. It was so sad

Frodo Silvertongue · 01-04-2012, 09:49 AM

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wc; too short to say, an unthinkable amount! But its the thread-end Smile

He was overly glad to know, in his weakened state, that Strider was alright. He managed a crumpled smile and then his broken features fell tired again; he knew them both to be right with their words. He was unwell, and he needed to worry about himself. But he found it hard, there was so many other things he wanted to know about his situation. Eagerly he looked up at Jace when he mentioned the rabbit, and he took it from her gently, and once he grasp had fallen he gripped the meat tightly and his whole posture changed into a sheer animal as he ripped the meat apart and devoured it in a starving way. No table manners today, ‘fraid. he croaked, sniffing the air and dropping the remains with weak hands as the rest of the rabbit slipped from his grasp. He snuggled down then, watching the two lady’s with fearful eyes.

Thanks. he managed finally, and then lay flat, his eyes on the ceiling. His tail curled into his body and he began to shut his eyes, only to snap them open again suddenly when he remembered to do something. I’m Frodo. he grinned, and then blacked out into a long sleep, thankful for their kindness and thankful they hadn't hurt him.

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