Owl! that hurts
#1
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WC:800

Even with the events that had happened recently, even with his mate having returned, and even with the realization that he hadn’t actually be demoted it still ate at him. Saluce wasn’t terrible and looking at this one sided anymore. He had known that his mate had only been trying to cement her leadership, but he had never guessed his own part to play in this would have brought so much hardship to him and then by proxy to her. He still didn’t understand why she had chosen to act as she had. Saluce himself had had some of his own ideas but what had been disheartening to him were her actions after he had left. To have come off her stance and given in.


It was his fault he assumed, if he hadn’t had stormed off, his presence remaining would have helped her. But he had left her, and had even told her to take off the gift that had meant so much to their relationship. As far as talking to her since she had returned he had not, only enough to tell her about the raid on their stables. Saluce hadn’t been surprised, unsure of if anyone had been checking the borders. Without him being able to, he didn’t know for sure, didn’t know if any in Ichika had or if any trespassers had come along. But he assumed the borders had been really left to themselves, not sure if even Jace had been lurking along them. It was a tight line to walk, being a warrior, one who protected those he wished to keep from harm or for those whom he wanted to keep from being stained. But today he was for the first time in two weeks feeling slightly better physically.


The shoulder he had been nursing lately had made some improvements, although the sling still adorned his right side. Walking had become easier and his headaches had lessoned as the stress of everything seemed to slowly wilt away into a forlorn sense of loss. He loved her that much was for sure, but it was becoming increasingly difficult for the dominant personality he was to come to terms with it. Or was he really enjoying the separation, the feeling of being in some wall culturally distant from her. It was during his thinking though that an owl decided to show up, one he loathed at times and one he still had to put up with. With it the owl brought its smaller companion the owl X’y had given him in return for the collar. The little owl had stayed away from him, probably because of X’y’s damn beast telling her to stay away. Blues looked up at the big male and a seething look was given in return when the owls seemed to burn right back.


The damn thing knew more of what was going on than most anyone and yet he had always hated him for stealing away the golden woman. No amount of Saluce’s good will or his behavior toward her whether bad or even good had never so much as procured any favor from the owl. He dismissed the damned thing with a wave of his good hand as he started to walk on toward the den site. But it wasn’t enough the owl fluttered it’s wings and took flight.


Saluce ignored the sounds until the sharp stinging pain of talons sinking into flesh snapped his attention back to his shoulder and the bird whom had decided to perch himself almost purposefully on his bad shoulder. It’s eyes bore back to him, even as his good arm tried to reach up to swipe it away only to be rewarded by the tightening of his claws. Obviously he was stuck trying to figure out what this damn thing wanted. When his arm fell back down to his side the claws retreated back to a dull ache upon his shoulder, and another flutter of wings and his bird swooped down and landed harshly on his opposite shoulder.


Saluce shook his head, growling agitated now, as both birds stared at him. He turned to move away from the den then but was rewarded yet again with the tightening of talons and the big male owls wings unfurling and batting him in the face. The behemoth had never considered trying the meat of an owl but today sounded as good a day as any to snap his fangs around the birds neck, but he turned back toward the den, knowing the grip would be lessoned. He was learning, even if he couldn’t communicate with these birds like X’y could what they wanted him to do. And yet he stopped and glared yet again, the owl simply increased the pressure once again, its eyes looking curiously back, wondering if Saluce would test his patience again.


Image courtesy of Frau Böb@Flickr; table by the Mentors!

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#2
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ooc:

Quiet at last; stolen just for a moment. How anyone could sleep so soundly was a mystery yet to be unraveled. But she was fine to remain shrouded wrapped in the warmth of the earth and furs having found a strange content for their company alone.

Her body was not starved for additional warmth, nor did her heart crave it. It was sated in a way with what riches were found in the embrace of nature and the home carved by her determined paws. She had in a sense reverted back to the comfort she found when wandering the lands without destination. Company could be found with the grass and the trees, with the rich earth itself and the brief encounters made through her journey. Each encounter was fleeting, just enough to get by one in terms of interaction, and each night she would make a bed for herself within the bosom of nature and for another night be relaxed and happy.

And she was the same now, content… lost within a dream complying the events of the days into a single unconscious stream of which her mind could contort and skew. The outcome would be different, the future would be of her own design but never would the past she changed. Even her subconscious had accepted it as it was and she felt no reason to disturb that even in dream. She rolled to her side in her sleep, the precious collar that lay beside her slipped from the furs to rest atop her pile of decorative feathers more prized than the damaged barbs and down that were scattered around the den floor. In dream, she hadn’t noticed the shift in its position yet her senses had heard and an ear perked curiously before a lone eye crept open. Blindly it searched the darkness so heavy with sleep then with mild effort relinquished its search and drew closed again. The woman breathed deeply as she forced her senses to dull again and let her fall back asleep.

338 words.

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#3
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WC:300

The man eyed the bird, feeling with each passing second the claws digging deeper. He simply remained; letting him inflict what damage he wanted as he ignored the pain thinking it some contest to win. But it didn’t last as his own bird started pecking at the side of his head, taking it’s queues from the older bird. A low bellowing growl escaped him, it was enough to scare his bird into stopping but the older bird simply unfurled it’s wings and then went back to perching on his shoulder. It wasn’t until it struck forward with its beak against his nose that he physically jerked causing the pain in his shoulder to erupt tenfold.


He snapped his maw toward the bird but the slowly mending bone that had been the source of all physical pain lately caused him to stop. Damning it all, and knowing he really had no choice his feet started moving once again. And it was the look of satisfaction that ate at him more than anything else that the old owl seemed to have about him. The den would soon come into view, a place he had exiled himself from for weeks now. He had taken up sleeping in the shop, the cold concrete floor wasn’t comfortable nor was it a loving embrace. He had come to feel something he hadn’t felt since knowing the golden woman. If he where honest it had been the most damaging break, no bone had been broken from this one, just his heart from knowing what he had said.


Once he had arrived the birds didn’t leave, they only stayed perched looking at him expectantly. Saluce shook his agitated head, and called out to the dreaming queen. Hoping her able ears would picked up the sounds of her flawed mate.


“X’yrin?”


Image courtesy of Frau Böb@Flickr; table by the Mentors!

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#4
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ooc:

The dream she had wandered through with reverence was well lived for a time before the voice of the waking world called for her to be among it again. Her sense was too keen to ignore a searching voice as was her sense of duty too strong to simply leave the caller be and fall back asleep. Slowly she was pulled from her dreams to the warmth of the furs and den and to the ache of her side from rolling while she slept. And it was with this same sluggish reluctance that she she-wolf pushed herself from the ground, her limbs quaking as she forced herself to all fours while stifling the rebellious yawn with tightly affixed lips.

Trails of red flowed in the wake of her paws as she walked to the mouth of the den then suddenly dropped at its entrance. She lay with only her head and forelimbs protruding into the mild cold with her head resting on top. Her eyes were not blind to the imposing figure of her mate standing before her with shoulder occupied by two feathered escorts. Spying through heavy lids the odd behavior of her companion, she clicked her tongue to garner his attention then gestured with a purposeful flick of her ear for him to come to her. It was a well known, well practiced guest for the two of them, one she was certain would be complied to without a fuss as it required little effort on his part. But when the bird did not leave his perch for his master, the woman shared a look of concern beneath the heavy veil of auburn locks with those gleaming orange orbs. What was this? she wished to inquire but held her tongue given her feral form. By choice, she remained silent and let the gestures of her form speak for her. Her hackles rose irritably along her nape but her ears had yet to fall back in genuine anger. But when her eyes turned to Saluce, the bristled ridge lowered but a little, still wary as she silently expected an explanation. Both for her companion’s behavior and why she was stirred from sleep.


363 words.

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#5
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WC:300

Blues waited, as they looked for the woman who might as well be considered as far away from him as a stranger, the den he had called home seemed alien to him now. Her sleep filled form seemed to come forth slowly, and her facial features weren’t that welcoming at all. He didn’t really expect them to be either. But when she didn’t shift and just sat there expecting him to speak, knowing he couldn’t shift and share in the silent nature of her posture he simply stood there.


His one good hand went to rest on his waist, his blues watching her for a moment, finding her face looking alien to him. It was as if all the good times had been wiped away from his memory and his vision was seeing the woman at the meeting. Her deceptive smile back then before issuing her punishments. His lips started to curl back before the claws started in once again. The damn bird, was this what he wanted? It confused him, he would have expected him to welcome him acting like an asshole to get him away from X’y but when his mood started to darken it was the bird after all that brought him back out of it. Saluce took a long deep breathe and then blew it outwards as if expelling some amount of anxiety and stress. He turned his head to look at the bird then, his eyes losing their anger but replacing it with confusion. Had this all been done to get him to apologize?


His face turned back to her, unable to really form any words, he wished he could have shifted, in some way it would have been easier for him to voice his sadness. While he commanded a great amount of physical power, she commanded maybe more of him then he realized.


“I let you down,” he started, “When you needed me I wasn’t there, if you want nothing to do with me, then I’ll accept it and I’ll be on my way, but if there is a chance you will forgive me, I will never stop trying to repay my debt”. He would be a fool to think that he could patch it up with a simple apology and his actions reflected this. Saluce didn’t expect to be allowed back into the den, or to be instantly in her arms but since her owl had deemed in necessary probably because it was, he would keep his foot in the door, and not allow himself to drive the nail all the way down.



Image courtesy of Frau Böb@Flickr; table by the Mentors!

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#6
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ooc:

Reverence awaited to be found in the dream world again, but the journey to such lands were yet again postponed by the colossal that stood before her. Lying there in the mouth of the den looking between him and his avian escorts, she questioned silently what madness had provoked this encounter to unfold in the dead of night…and why this night did her companion animal choose to misbehave when she was clearly in no mood to tolerate it. From beneath her wild bangs she peered hard at the bird. Her lips were tightly fastened and still while the tip of her nose quivered anxiously. Watching, waiting for an explanation to an unasked question but was shared between bird and wolf.

But their stare was broken as the sound of her mate’s voice forced her attention to him. Her hidden gaze stared mildly at him with her ears perked forward as she listened, assessing the merit of his words as they were spoken. He had let her down…. Of course he had. Never had she believed she would be met with the back of her mate in abandonment, nor would she have believed he would shun her for something as infinitesimal as a ruling. Like the others that day, he would rather throw his last words at her than make an appeal to stress his actions had been for the good of the pack. Of course he had let her down…

The Nomad said nothing as she let the weight of his words fall on her completely and stir what remained in her damaged heart. And shame that what repair had been made was found in the embrace of another pack; one she felt more familiar with than this chasm riddled land she led. In the midst of her silence her form began to alter, shedding the rough appeal of the massive form to take a lengthier, more human-esque physique that seemed unnecessary for the circumstance, yet it was necessary for her. She had adopted a discipline since her time away that she saw no reason to break. And she remained silent until the last of the sinew shifted and resulted itself and she still lied within the mouth of the den with her shoulder braced against the interior as she leaned into the earthen warmth.

“You should know the ways of my people Saluce… the very people whose name you’ve adopted as your own,” she uttered quietly…tiredly. “If I wanted nothing more to do with you, I would have told you and returned the collar to you as you demanded.”


430 words.

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#7
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WC:500

Somehow he guessed the owl still wasn’t happy with the way things were going. Maybe in his simpler world it would have been easier for a lifelong mate and him to get things settled and let nature rule their relationship but it had gone way too far for Saluce and X’y. While he felt the hot blooded connected, the seething itch, the shortness of breath, the butterflies whenever he spied her, the more complicated nature of whatever human traits they picked up got in the way. Saluce couldn’t stand not being connected to her as much as he couldn’t stand weakness, or lying. But it still didn’t mean the wound still wasn’t there. The way she had spoken it had been like a knife jabbing right into him, and it had caused a most curious reaction in him that day.


Blues looked upon her and it seemed to never matter. The claws of the bird on his shoulder slowly started to dig in once again as if to remind him he still had more to say but nothing came to his addled mind. The pain came on slowly and his face tried hard to not show it but it came through in waves. His lip started to quiver and along with his good arm starting to shake, Saluce had never hated this bird as much as he did now, maybe in the future he’d come to remember this as something positive but he had a hard time believing it right now. What could he say, she was mated to a man who sometimes let his pride get in the way, who while he had a lot of good and caring aspects about him, had a furious temper that flared as quickly as a bomb sometimes.


He started to speak but no words came to him, his tired mind just couldn’t formulate anything, already those claws dug deeper, his nose greeted with the smell of fresh blood. It happened quickly, his maw snapping to the bird as his voice ascended into a volcano of volume.


“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY BIRD? THAT I FUCKED UP? CHECK…. THAT THE WOMAN I LOVE HAS BEEN FORCED TO ENDURE SOMETHING SHE SHOULD NEVER HAD TOO!” he growled, his lips curling back into a snarl as his good hand moved as suddenly as his outburst finally done dealing with him. The act seemed enough as the owl sensed it was high time he left or risk injury, it’s wings beating and leaving.


Saluce seemed to tense up, the act of jerking and moving bringing with it another spasm and silent cry from his maw. His good arm swung back behind him seeking to brace him against the cliff wall that the den was dug into. He moved slowly, almost immobilized as knees slowly bent to allow him to slide down the wall and into a sitting position. Saluce had never suffered a broken collar bone, but he know knew why they were such a painful injury, nothing saved him from remembering the break, not even speaking at times.


Image courtesy of Frau Böb@Flickr; table by the Mentors!

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#8
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ooc:


The interactions between wolf and owl were annoying more than comical, mainly for the animal’s choice of punishment brought on by some reason he felt necessary. She was inclined to called to him yet there was no name for her to utter. Again she clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth and flicked an ear for the owl to come to her but he only clung harder to her mate until his bellowing octave forced her companion to release him and forced her ears down to spare her from the piercing tenor.

What did ‘fucked up’ mean, she wondered. His was of admitting to a fault? An apology would have sufficed enough to convey this without the high volume of vulgarity. But had she learned anything from him, it was that no matter how she would have chosen to handle a situation, Saluce always had his own way of handling the same and there was little to nothing she could say to sway a change from him. But he was right… so very right. She should not have been on the receiving end of his wrath just for following the laws that were set by the pack as well as following the teachings of her family; a negative action deserved a consequence yet she was portrayed the villain and was placed at a distance from those she had chosen to protect and lead. She did not deserve to be put at ends with them… nor did she deserve this isolation. And she needed affirm this with words, but her eyes said all.

She watched as Saluce slid to the ground, both owls now gone from his shoulders to play spectators instead of instigators. The pain of his injury was etched on his face brought on by his own unruly temper. She knew all too well the outcome that came from violent action without thought, as swift a reaction as instinct itself and just as formidable to deal with. Softly, the she-wolf sighed while carefully inching closer to the inner wall of the den. “You should lie down and rest.”



351 words.

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#9
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WC:320

Saluce cradled his injured arm, blues looking off into the night sky. What he wanted, was her soft touch and her calming presence, so storm tormenting him would subside and he’d be able to think clearer. It wasn’t long until her voice rose to his ears once again. His head turned languidly toward her, his blues dull and glazed over. He tried to process what she meant even as he noticed she had moved further into the den. He wanted to inch toward the mouth, and crawl in but it seemed so foreign for him to crawl in without an invitation now. But she hadn’t discarded his collar or at least he thought she hadn’t, she wasn’t wearing it but she hadn’t given it back.


Saluce started to move slowly, moving to his knees and his one good arm. The awkward crawl was difficult for him to perform but he made it finally to the mouth of the den. Her eyes where just as dull as his, and he knew instantly how hard she had taken it all, and it seemed to be an insurmountable mountain to climb to make up for himself and the actions of the rest of the pack. In some what he held himself at fault for everything that had happened after he had left. His muzzle dipped low underneath hers and he gave her a soft nuzzle along her neck. If he had been able he would have rolled onto his back to attempt to lay his head on her lap but such a thing was denied to him. He couldn’t even cradle her.


“I’m so sorry X’y, you deserve so much better from me,” he said softly, but he made no move to move into the den, his form hung at its entrance, he’d sleep at the foot of the den tonight if he had to, it was better than being separated from her in terms of miles instead of feet.


Image courtesy of Frau Böb@Flickr; table by the Mentors!

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#10
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ooc:

Whatever poetic renditions of forgiveness his ears hoped to behold her lips could not yet form. Her disposition had long since gone away from anger and had adopted hurt in its stead. Pure unrelenting with only the call of her more feral mind to bring her comfort in the whispers of the lupine blood coursing through her veins, easing her mind and heart to peace. Despite his apology, the force that drove her actions could not yet bring her lips to utter her understanding and let the instances of the past reside there, to the past.

Instead she graced the tip of his muzzle with a fleeting lick as she drew her head from him and slipped the whole of her form back down into the warmth of the den. “You need rest,” she repeated, acknowledging again his pitiful injured state before seeking the comfort of the furred and scantly feathered bedding. She had relinquished too much energy to change back down to a more comfortable form and was forced to crawl on her hands and knees to the bed. The soft kempt hair of the marten and fox furs pulled her down again into their luxurious folds. She pulled her favored elk hide from its recess above the bedding and threw it over her chilled from, delving into an even deeper state of warmth to lull her back to sleep.

Yet as she began to drift again, her sluggish form inched to one side of the bedding though with her front turned toward the earth wall. “You need rest,” she uttered quietly again though through her actions her words were better fit for herself than her mate. “…not the command… of your alpha…” her voice as well as her taxed mind began to drift til her words faded to a whisper. “… but of your mate.”

And again, she was asleep.


312 words.

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