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And here we go! Jeez, I wrote a book, and 150 more words than when I wrote this by hand.
Word Count: 532. Worth 5 points.
Hanna walked quietly through the cool, damp forests of Dahlia de Mai, just meandering about through the morning mists. She knew vaguely where she was at; after all, it hadn't been that long since this land had been her home. She still felt a great love for the Dahlian lands, and perhaps she always would. It was a shame she had had problems with Haku; she found calling out at the borders to be somewhat rude and if she had been there alone, Hanna would have waited for someone to happen upon her rather than to do so.
But in this case, Hanna had arrived with escort. Mew was resting in her den, as far as Hanna knew, and so the femme had left that place to find some food for them and to take a break from her duties, which were basically to keep her niece relatively quiet and to provide companionship to her, as well as simply being close when the pups were due to come, since the mother-to-be was concerned that things would go south with her delivery, as they had last time.
For once, Hanna was in her lupus form, though she still had her belt looped over her back, knives hanging about her belly. They might not do her any good if she found someone who challenged her being there, someone who hadn't got the memo that there was a temporary visitor, but she still felt better having them on her person.
A movement to the right caught Hanna's attention and her mind immediately stopped considering that, eyes coming to rest on a cottontail buck. The rabbit was moving slowly away from her, grazing on the tender grass, and she wished for a moment that Tobias was overhead instead of visiting familiar haunts. Then she chided herself for her laziness and shrugged the belt quietly from her body. Lowering her form she crept toward the unsuspecting creature.
After waiting for just the right moment, Hanna struck, feeling the rabbit's tender flesh give way beneath her fangs. With a final squeak and a violent shake of her jaws, the spinal cord was ripped asunder, and the creature seemed to acquiesce to it's fate.Hanna concentrated and shifted up to two legs, intending on gutting the now-dead bunny, but then realised that if she were bringing the food to Mew, as had been her intent since seeing the leporid, the heart and liver would be an added source of nutrition for her niece. So instead of following through with her plan, she simply grasped the buck by his hind legs.
She didn't immediately turn back towards Wolfville; the rabbit would keep for a bit. She continued on the way she'd been going, coming in just a few more strides to the clearing by the cemetary, in full view of the church. She didn't let her mind wander to the fact that the church was where Slay and Cercelee had been staying, but walked about the headstones, pausing to read the names on some of them. Bit by bit, she came to the one that seemed to always be her involuntary destination and stood staring up at the Virgin Mary.
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[html] ooc: I made it foggier. x3 Sorry for the typical delay!
Slay sat quietly on the steps outside the church, his ice-pale eyes reflecting the morning mists around him. Things had been oddly quiet lately. Since Cwmfen had given birth without incident, the dual threats of Brennt and Corvus had been eliminated, and his German puppies had been returned to their biological mother, all of the drama had settled down into a gentle lull marked only by the changing of the seasons.
The arctic werewolf was still in his hulking two-legger form. It was so strange to him, he wondered if he would ever get used to his towering height or lion-like mane, or the fact that his stark markings could be seen from miles away, or that his pale blue eyes were nearly washed out to white... but he had not given up on this alien new version of himself, because his sleeping sickness had not returned. He had more energy and strength than ever, and he could sleep throughout the night without waking up without warning. So far it was worth it to look like a freak, if it meant getting a good night's sleep.
Cercelee was still soundly napping inside of their now-quiet den of a church. She had taken the loss of her adopted children quite hard. Slay felt the ache as well, but some part of him knew that the five de Sadira children never really fit in here. Hell, they barely spoke English. It wasn't a huge shock to learn that one by one, they got older and decided to seek out their true family. He just didn't want to see it eating away at his poor mate like this. She missed motherhood. And perhaps soon, he would have to give her that back... If she asked him to, they would start their own family together. It was just a frightening prospect, since there would be no "other parents" to step in and rescue them if he made a mistake.
Unsettled, the tall werewolf lurched to his feet, deciding he'd rather walk than stay in one place. He was fairly accustomed to the lumbering movements required of walking upright, but it still felt like he was going to fall flat every time he bent his knees. The opalescent mist obscured some of his form, and he welcomed it, self-conscious as ever about his queer markings and overwhelming size. It was not far to the graveyard, the most solitary place he could think of. It was mostly a resting place for humans, although he knew now that several wolves also laid claim to its sanctity. Slay brushed the shaggy white fur from his eyes, peering into the hazy fog. He thought he'd caught a whiff of cottontail blood, a familiar prey to any wolf, but he hadn't yet spotted who was lingering by the statue of the deity...
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Here ya go! Sorry for the delay.
Word Count: 320. Worth 2 points.
As Slay had not detected her, neither had Hanna noticed him. She stared up at the Virgin, the fog making her all the more ethereal. The woman studied the statue, pondering her outstretched hands and benevolent face, her dress and robe seeming to flow despite being made of granite. Her eyes then fell to the mist-obscured ground, and subequently to a small heart-shaped stone with four names on it. Hanna knelt in front of the stone slowly.
Even though she hadn't been informed of their location or their first names, the surnames left little doubt as to what lay near the stone, under blooms and grass. She had stumbled across a grave she had often wondered about, that of Mew's stillborn litter. Four little lives that had been snuffed out before they could begin by the violent actions of one being against their mother.
Her fingers moved gently across the names engraved into the rock. Meleos Sadira, Thela Soul, Cuont Sadira, and Rahlie Sadira. Her palm smoothed across the stone, then retreated to her lap. Her head remained bowed, a pair of tears falling for her niece's loss. Hanna hoped she never had to endure that loss, and yet it was possible, and became more possible the older she got. She could not start worrying about it now, though. She needed to be strong, for Mew's sake, and exude calmness from every pore. Caressing the rock a final time, Hanna stood and begain looking through the names on the other headstones again, the mist creating an eldritch effect.
She might have bumped into Slay had she been walking any faster or failed to have that feeling that someone was there at the last moment. She still didn't directly recognize the man; she had never seen him outside of his lupus form, but after thirty seconds of studying him, she realized that his markings were very familiar. "Slay!? You look great!"
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[html] Fwee, I am slower than you~! C:
He started at the sound of her voice, not expecting company in the quiet morning. His ice-pale eyes blinked wide, framed by the shaggy white fur of his messy mane as he peered down at the familiar face. "H-hanna...!" he exclaimed, a smile quickly alighting on his broad countenance - although quickly tempered with embarrassment, as he realized she was seeing him as the gigantic freak he had shifted into. And a flicker of guilt quickly chased after it, as he remembered how their last graveyard encounter had unfurled. Susquehanna did not seem brokenhearted or depressed, so that was good, at least. Even more surprisingly, she had the scent of a pack on her. She had chosen a new home, it seemed.
"'I look great'?" he repeated with amusement, shaking his wide head with a rumbling chuckle. He slouched against a flat grey tombstone, squatting down so that she did not have to crane her neck to look him eye-to-eye. The height differences took some getting used to. "'Bizarre', maybe, but not 'great'. Anyway, you joined a pack, didn't you? How have things been? And what brings you back here, if I may be so bold?" His deep voice held a friendly current, pleased to have a companion after all. He hadn't gotten out much lately, didn't have many friends anymore... His mate was his best friend, but her duties always came first. It really was good to see Hanna again. Ironic, though, that they spent so little time together as packmates, but since she left, they gradually became close...
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Thwop me if I've made her know anything she shouldn't. 
Word Count: 368. Worth 2 points.
It was good to see him again, for sure. Hanna was better than she had been: less upset than she had felt before, and more comfortable with her position in the scheme of things. She was not perfect, but few could claim that title anyway."Yeah, I found a place in AniWaya, way down south. My title is Gata Hineyu, Fire Maker." Her tongue still tripped over the unfamiliar language, but it was not bad. Her eyes glowed with the excitement of her rank. For once she had a job in a pack that required daily work. Being Herbalist was great, she loved healing, but very seldom did people require her assistance. Now she was out from morning till the warmest part of the day chopping wood to distribute to those who needed it for their hearths and also for the Ceremonial Fire.
"Things have been great, Slay. I've done my wandering and met new faces, and found a role that suits me where I can also do what I love doing. I came back at Mew's request, though. She's expecting a litter, but experiencing some problems that are worrying her." Hanna's gaze returned unbidden to the stone nearby where the children were, wondering if she had already said too much about the situation. It was Mew's business, after all.
"But enough about me. What about you, how have things been going around here? Obviously you've shifted, but this is the only time I've seen you do so." She sensed a story afoot and settled herself on the ground across from Slay, making the fog billow around her rump as she did. It was nice to be in the company of the piebald man she had, and still did to some extent, love. She would have to visit more often now, despite her uneasiness to so much as approach the borders without escort. Surreptitiously, Hanna squinted one eye to glare down at her nose with the other, looking as she had done a million times at the triple scars across her snout. They were completely healed and were pale pink, the skin puckered, and now a lovely reminder not to cross borderlines, no matter what the reason, without permission.
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[html] ooc: we can try to focus on this one, as per your request. 
"I met your packmate Hemming, then, some time ago," Slay mentioned pleasantly. The poetic wolf had been accompanied by an odd little bird, one whose bright beady eyes had seemed to pierce right through him. Thoughts of the black and white animal he saw in his dreams from time to time still made him wonder -- was it of the same constitution as Dagrun, some sort of spiritual animal? He had been meaning to speak with Cwmfen about it, too, but she had been terribly scarce since her children were born. "So, ehh, do you... have one of those ghost animals, too?" he mentioned offhandedly, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. He didn't see one, but the superstitious male knew that didn't mean anything.
Mew was having a litter...! Slay's eyes widened, but he said nothing. He had been around when she'd lost her first litter, and knew what a deeply personal blow it had been. And she had found a mate amongst their ranks, so... this should be a good thing. More pups around Dahlia couldn't hurt. His expression softened into a gentle smile, pale eyes warm. "I'm glad you're here to help her, then. And that you've found a place for yourself, Fire Maker." His ears flicked in surprise as she inquired about him, and he pursed his lips, trying to think back on the seasons they had been apart.
"Yes, m'dove, I shifted for the first time and have been this way since. Did you hear rumors about the rogue wolf, Corvus Vendetta...? He was harassing members of our pack specifically, and attacked our borders on several occasions." Cwmfen's psychopathic father, he added silently.
"I was one of his victims, so to speak -- he thrashed me so hard, I couldn't leave my den for a month. But when I finally stood on my own and found the scars were healed and gone, I found myself shifting as well. I suppose it unlocked something inside of me, even though I always had the capability." He shrugged casually, keeping the story short and glossed over. No need to mention all the loss of blood, or what a terrible strain he had put on Cercelee, or his depression that followed at not being able to protect his home. He should be stronger now. At the very least, his size would intimidate any would-be marauders!
"And you, you have some scars of your own," he noted aloud, tilting his head curiously. Had she run afoul of a loner as well?
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OOC: ©table code and image to jacoby: I fail. Yes, we'll focus on this one. But maybe we can wrap it up with like.. one more round or so? Word count: 355. Worth 2 points
"I haven't met Hemming since I joined the tribe, but I'm pretty sure I met him before then." Hanna didn't recall seeing a bird then, but there was a chance for sure that she was simply not recalling it. The night had been stormy, not at all suited for paying attention for little birds flitting about. She had been more concerned with not being struck by lightning. Slay's next words perplexed her. She recalled something about some journey she would take, but she had not heard much of what would happen. The ebony woman could not decide what she thought her Spirit Animal would be. Big? Small? What species? "No, I haven't got one yet. I don't know when it will appear."
His compliment made her blush and mumble a thanks, partially because of the sentiment behind it and partially because of the fact that while she was here, she had a patient hidden back at home, convalescing at her cabin. She had found him on the beach with a broken leg and taken him home to heal. She had not had time afterward to tell Dawali before Mew came to get her and bring her back to the Dahlia de Mai pack land.
The piebald male's mention of Corvus Vendetta confused her and worried her. His words did not indicate whether the apparently violent man was still in the area, dead, alive, whatever. She had neither seen nor heard of him, but that did not make her any less susceptible to his harmful attentions. And if he had not hesitated to attack Slay, who was possibly one of the most peaceable wolves she knew, what would prevent him from attacking some random traveling woman? "I'm sorry to hear of your injuries; I wish I had been here to help you return to your good health. Do you know if this Corvus is still in the area?" She went on to absentmindedly rub her snout, chuckling, though not with humor. "Heh, yeah... I ran afoul of my nephew," the words were spoken with obvious venom, "while trying to keep a loner from doing exactly that."
Speak, think, act
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