Duty and family
#1
OOC: Just north of Salsola borders, close enough to be slightly suspicious to paranoid Salsolans but not close enough to be threatening.

Regner trudged through the snow aimlessly, not heading in a specific direction but just staying within a certain area, and hated every minute of it. It was partially the cold, partially the seeming uselessness of his task, to try and find and question a member of the pack he had scented south of here without appearing threatening to their borders, but it was mostly because what he was doing went against every fibre of his body.

Regner did not want another pack. The Broderskab was his home and what he had done, that he had fled and survived rather than die fighting, did not sit well in his stomach. It was a betrayal in his eyes, pure and simple, and it was being compounded by this latest venture; seeking out a new pack. An insult to the memory of his dead family, a show of cowardice by being afraid to die alone, Regner could spend hours thinking of ways to describe his distaste with the situation.

And then a small sound, a barely audible snuffle, reminded him of why he was doing this, why he was insulting the memory of his dead brethren. One great hand lowered down and peeled back Regner's thick cloak, temporarily revealing Regner's burden. His granddaughter, Adelle. Barely two months old and completely dependant on an old man for survival in the middle of winter; not a good outlook. She was why he searched for a pack, for protection, for food, for warmth, for a family that would be around after he was gone.

At the moment Adelle was dozing in her harness at Regner's side; the warmth generated by his own body and his cloak making it the safest place for her. Gently Regner lowered his hand to her face, inwardly marvelling at how small and fragile she was as one finger stroked her brow gently, and spoke softly to her, his normally gravelly voice taking on a crooning edge to it as he did so,[html] "Søvn lille, vil alt være bøde."[/html] Then he abruptly closed the cloak again, pulling it shut and insulating Adelle against the wind as best he could.

With a sigh and a groan Regner raised the staff he used to aid his walking and banged it into the ground, leaning heavily on it as he took a few steps. Standing still had let the cold get to the wound on his leg, the jagged scar that had put him out of commission while his home and life had burned. Even now, nearly a month later with the actual wound having long healed it still ached and impaired his movement; Regner had a suspicion that it would do so for the rest of his life.

Good, in his opinion. A reminder: of his failure, of his past.

With a final sigh Regner pushed these thoughts to the back of his mind, pulled his hood back up over his head and trudged forwards, cutting a steady trail through the snow as he continued on his quest. He was used to cold conditions and had the combined heritage of two cold weather breeds to fall back on, he could stay out here for a long time yet and if he had to do so he would.

Adelle was all he had left, he was not going to fail her.
#2
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(1002)



Eris is by Kiri, a gift from Sylvey!

Winter's pallid blanket had finally overtaken their thistle kingdom. Eris found the open parts of her ruins covered in snow, and, disliking this new development, had ordered Molcaxitl to clear the snow to the best of her ability. Lack of snow did not dry the ground, nor make it any warmer, so Eris had relegated herself to the lean-to shack and her underground den for most of the day, cooing over her little Basilaris. At two weeks, his eyes had opened, and the dark woman had begun feeding him the regurgitated chunks that served as fare for puppies of his age. Despite her adoration for her son, the dark woman soon found herself cantankerous and decidedly sour of mood. Ataxia, Artemisia, and Harrow had been happy enough playing in the snow for some time, but when it grew too cold for her daughters, they piled back into Eris's abode, yipping and yelping and chattering this way and that. All she wanted in the world was silence and time to adore sleeping little Basilaris.

Twenty minutes of cacophony from her daughters and the hybrid had set aside even her dearest Basilaris for her sanity. Tucking the boy into a bundle at the rear of the lean-to, she ordered Molcaxitl to watch over her children with a sharp eye, and wrapped herself in the leather garment Siv had designed for her. Her baby weight had yet to disperse and it still hugged every ample curve of the sable hybrid's body. Over this garment, the woman hung a simple shawl constructed of a few deer pelts, dyed a particularly dull chestnut red shade with some flower or another. The hybrid woman was not involved in the production of such items, and had no knowledge of their secrets. She only enjoyed the finery that resulted from the hard labor of slaves, after all. Outfitted as she was, the dark woman strode out into the snow, her feet sinking through the light crusting and through to the muddy earth.

The coyote had a mind to encircle Salsola's borders and mark them. Even in the snow, they needed take certain precautions, and it would not do to have the subleader's scent fade from the perimeter markings. She started for the coast, and made her way along rocky inclines, chartreuse eyes ever mindful of the foaming wrath just to her left. The drop from their raised beaches was sure to knock her senses about, and by the time she regained them, the mighty bay's tides would have her. She might be out past the Mayate isle's furthest point before she regained her ability to think and swim, after all. The dark-hued woman did not fall into the surf, however, and kept her footing, however precarious it seemed at times. When she reached the river, she turned north, following along these less dangerous banks with more ease. She paused every now and then to strengthen her scent along these extremities of Salsola. The river provided a fine border, sure enough, but Salsola would be foolish not to back it up with a scented reminder, as well.

The forested lands soon gave way to flat and rolling plains, and the coyote meandered along them. The cold winter's air enthused her blood, for she knew what season winter hailed. It was the season of cold and death, and her Basilaris had been born at its beginning. A birth to signify the cold season of death was surely a good omen, and the dark hybrid had no fear of losing Basilaris to illnesses like Shibboleth. On the contrary, the pallid little boy had fared better than his sickly elder sister by far, despite seeming premature at first. The dark hybrid neither needed to fear an untimely death such as Solanaceae's -- Basilaris was untouchable, even in this cold. Despite her arrogant thoughts, the hybrid would protect his life as viciously as necessary, perhaps even setting her own down before she allowed someone to take his. Such as sacrifice was unprecedented in Eris's thoughts. Not for Larkspur, not for Salsola, not for any of her older children. For Basilaris? She knew in her heart and in her bones, the answer was yes -- always yes.

The coyote caught sight of a hunkered stranger, and realized she had drifted some distance away from Salsola. Peculiar how her cognizance of the world seemed to disappear with thoughts of her pallid son. The coyote tossed a glance behind her and saw the distance that had passed from Salsola's border with surprise. Still, the stranger was heading in their direction. Eris inhaled a breath, and barked once, a yapping coyote's call, for the man to stop. Her chartreuse eyes regarded his shrouded form with suspicion, and on lip lifted in a fearsome grin-snarl. The expression blurred the lines between joy at having found quarry and threat for the stranger, and the coyote took a few steps forward, the barely repressed aggression present in the few slow and steady steps.

Where are you headed in such a hurry? the woman called, her tail flickering with excitement. The voice she used was supple and sweet as the leather she wore around her body, but the underlying threat was clear in the dark-hued hybrid's stance. She was a bonny thing to look upon, all decked out for winter's cold and even beneath the pelts and adornments, still curvaceously woman. Still, one did not mistake the power she wielded -- regardless of whether Eris Eternity held physical power in her own hands or called to arms her soldiers of Salsola, it mattered not. She was incapable of fighting her own battles, and so used others for her bidding. The dark-hued hybrid, upon gaining closer purchase to this man, saw her precautionary thoughts were entirely unnecessary. His movements told the tale all too well: he was elderly, and even Eris had nothing to fear from him.

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#3
Regner slowed to a stop as the strangers call filtered into his ears through the wind and raised his muzzle, a short, deep woof of greeting coming forth from his mouth as he waited for the stranger to approach.

Regner grew less and less happy with the situation as the woman approached. While the small, lithe woman before him did not look particularly threatening, Regner guessed that he outweighed her by at least her own weight again and prided himself on his ability to estimate potential opponents, her body language screamed aggression to the experienced warrior, her sweet words honey slathered upon a thorn.

Still from the smell that she bore this woman hailed from the pack that he was scouting so he couldn’t afford to alienate her. Regner reassured himself by mentally pointing out that aggression this close to the pack borders wasn't necessarily a bad thing from a perspective pack. Leaning heavily on his staff now that he didn’t have momentum to support him Regner replied, his voice lacking the soft, crooning tone with which he had spoken to Adelle with and instead rumbling up from his chest and over his lips in a gravelly boom, like the retort of an avalanche making its way down a mountain. [html] "Jeg tror næppe, at nogen min alder ville være i stand til noget betragtes som forhaste, fru." [/html]

And mountain was an appropriate comparison to use. Now that the woman was closer Regner could see that he towered over her; she was rather small and lithe whereas he himself came from the bloodline of one of the largest canines alive on the planet and even among his fellow Ovcharka hybrids he was considered unusually large. Still that didn’t mean that he was safe, he was old and he had seen warriors in their prime killed by overconfidence and a swift but small opponent so when he moved forward it was a calculated movement, bringing him just close enough to make their height difference obvious but not close enough to appear threatening or put himself in immediate danger.

It was only now that Regner realised that he had spoken Danish when he first saw the woman, something which he quickly remedied, "I apologise, I forgot my languages."Regner's gravelly voice was slow and formal as he spoke in English, he was still unused to the language. "I am new to the lands and am trying to… what is the phrase? [html] "Få min lejer[/html], finding my way. May I return the question? It is a harsh day for one to be leaving the warmth of their home on unimportant business"
#4
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(385)



Eris is by Nat!

The dark woman had not realized the difference in size between herself and the stranger at first. The distance made him appear peculiarly small in that way perspective interfered with reality, and the dark woman saw he did indeed tower over her short, stout form. The wolf's countenance did not change upon this realization, however; Eris remained as she had before, smiling snarl or snarling smile plastered across her charcoal-hued muzzle as she peered at the tall wolf. Strange words escaped his maw, and they gave the dark woman considerable pause. Her expression's anger deepened, but now it was marred by confusion, as well -- anger and confusion were generally dangerous bedfellows, but Eris Eternity valued her dark-hued hide far too much to risk it in attacking this man.

He took steps toward her, and the dark hybrid straightened imperceptibly, every muscle tightened to the extreme. She was ready to dart back toward Salsola, should the need arise. Her call would bring Miqui, Larkspur, and all the other muscle of Salsola. She knew the coyotes and wolves of her pack would rally at her distress cry, of course -- what other purpose did they serve, but to protect and mother one another? The dark-hued woman listened as the man again spoke, glad to hear his voice was one of a language she actually understood. Though normally Eris might appreciate the exotic tint these foreigners' tongues carried, now was not such a moment.

Her muzzle wrinkled even more, the smile/snarl becoming positively fierce. Unimportant? No, she corrected, shaking her head firmly to emphasize the disagreement. Keeping evils and would-be dealers of death from my homeland is not unimportant. His answer was pleasing enough, but the coyote did think his age odd for a wanderer. It was usually the young driven out of their homes by parents or simple wanderlust; this wolf appeared far too aged to be simply meandering. Your age seems great for one seeking a change of homeland, she commented, some of the venom leaving her voice. Now, there was curiosity in her tone, although perhaps this curiosity was as much falsity as her smile. Still, some of her persnickety facade had left her face, and now perhaps the dark-hued woman might appear more pleasant to the stranger.

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#5
[html]<style>@import url(http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Alex+Brush);</style>
Regner Vilhelmsen
Check my vitals signs and know i'm still alive
Word Count :: 385 Herp derp derp I suck at replying quickly to stuff recently, sorry T_T

A patrol then, so it seemed from the woman's answer, either that or the pack had noticed his observations and set somebody to follow him, either was equally possible from a pack that he knew so little about. Just as Regner was about to speak there was a squeak from his hip, Adelle had woken and was wriggling curiously, wondering what was happening outside the shelter of the blanket. For a single, tense moment Regner stood stock still, wondering whether to expose Adelle to the stranger or cut his losses and flee, eventually deciding on the former; this stranger had given no overt indications of aggression beyond what was reasonable for a wolf encountering a stranger near her border.

Regner gently peeled back his cloak a fraction, letting Adelle both see and be seen, the puppy's bright blue eyes gleaming in the darkness of the cloak, a happy bark issuing from her mouth as she caught sight of the woman who had confronted him. Underneath the thick fur and leather Regner could feel her tail beating furiously at the sight of a stranger, ignorant of the potential danger the stranger could represent. Still Adelle was just a puppy, she wasn't expected to be able to identify enemies by both language, that was Regner's job. "Aye, you are right there. You will find neither here however, just an old man and his granddaughter."


The comment about his age rankled Regner slightly but the old dog didn’t react, the situation was too precarious to get offended about the truth so instead he nodded gravely, "I agree, but situation forces my hand. I will not be around forever, my granddaughter needs a home." Regner wondered how the woman would react to this statement, in his experience puppies were good candidates for joining a pack, especially when they were young enough to grow up loyal to their home.


Regner realised that he still didn't know the woman's name and decided to remedy this. "I am Regner, formerly Betydning of the Broderskab. Might I ask who I am speaking to?" Regner didn’t extend his hand in greeting, that would be a level of trust that wasn't present, and instead thumped a clench fist heavily against his scarred chest in a formal Broderskab greeting, producing a dull thump from the impact.



Image courtesy of UmbraDeNoapte-Stock

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#6
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(325) Shitty post is shitty. 8D



Eris is by Nat!

The coyote peered forward with interest as the old man pulled back his cloak, revealing more of his countenance as well as a small bundle, bright of eyes and with a youthful, curious countenance. Eris looked from the child's face back toward the black mask of the old man, her head tilting to the side almost imperceptibly. Did he seek to evoke her pity by showing the child to her? She even thought him too old to have fathered the young girl, until his voice introduced her as granddaughter. This was more sensible to the coal-hued female, who simultaneously nodded and dismissed the notion that this one was fit for Salsola. An old man and a weakling babe -- neither would improve her pack's chances at life. On the contrary, such as these would only place burden upon her pack.

Oh, yes. Children need homes, otherwise they don't live long at all, the coyote agreed, though she made no move to offer the man her home. Instead, she smiled queerly at his introduction, bobbing her head up and down in a slow nod. You may not, but if you must refer to me as something, then let it be Aether, the coyote said, introducing herself with her stillborn daughter's would-be name without hesitation. She would never have adopted Solanaceae or Shibboleth's names, no -- but Aether had never truly breathed, and her name was more ceremony than anything else. In truth, the name did still belong to Eris, and so the Auxiliary could use it at her will. Perhaps you might like to head south. The packs there will welcome you with open arms. Oh, oh -- why not the skull-lined borders to the east? The mention of Inferni prompted a wicked smile from Eris, who quickly shook her head. No, take care to avoid Inferni in your travels, old man. They are not fond of anyone lacking coyote blood.

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