the litter and the leaves

[Finn Fidh]

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WC: 500+

Postdated to September 25th, to match with the weather. If this doesn't work for you I'll change it right away.

The forest was nearly silent. No birds sang, no squirrels chittered. The occasional rays of sunlight cut through the gloom like brilliant knives performing disappearing acts. There one moment, gone another. The trees swayed quietly, doing whatever trees did, undisturbed enough to flourish and grow tall and strong. No one had come to cut them down in a long time. If they had emotions, they might have been pleased, perhaps even smug. Man had come and gone, leaving behind new species that wasted less. Someday, perhaps those wolves who had learned to walk on hind legs would become as destructive as their predecessors, but that was a problem for the next generation of trees.

The forest was nearly silent, until there came the scuffle of four paws and four hooves through the leaf litter.

“And what is the difference? What is the distinction between Being and a being? Is there any?” Finn said, taking long hop-skip-jumps to keep up with her companion, “Are they the same? Who even thinks up questions like these?” She cast a dubious eye at the large red deer beside her. “I don’t think you’re taking fair share in this conversation, Alastair. I get the feeling you’re just letting me blow hot air for you’re express amusement.”

The deer said nothing, his steps never faltered. Finn sighed, dropping her head low and shaking it. She didn’t have the energy to nip at him, or cause a scene. She was too tired. They had been walking for a long time after all; carefully skirting any region that was marked as belonging to pack. Finn had no desire to trespass, and she had the feeling that Alastair didn’t even, whatever he may he. Or, rather, not say. She wouldn’t have been too keen either, tripping accidentally onto the land of a bunch of predators when you were their favourite dish.

So they did their little territory two-step, keeping their eyes and ears and noses alert. They hadn’t seen hide nor hair of anyone in the past few months, which Alastair probably regarded as a blessing, but made Finn wish for more talkative company. Alastair was good in his own way, but considering he didn’t speak the same language, it made for rather dull dinner conversations. The only way they could communicate was through gesture or sheer frustration. Once the situation became dire enough that their lives were in danger, the motions they made came across clear as crystal, they had not trouble understanding each other then.

“As I was saying-” Finn stopped short, frowning up at the deer. He had fallen still, legs stiff and horn-crowned head raised high. “What do you hear, Alastair?” She sat perking up her remaining ear and trying to catch something. Perhaps there was someone approaching, but it could have just been the rustle of the wind. Finn shifted uncomfortably, blinking at the gloom around them.

“Hello?” She said. Neither wolf nor deer dared to move or even breath heavily. The forest fell nearly silent as they waited.

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[Jantus]

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┤Thanks for getting it started!├ Jantus was making his way away from the spot where he'd met the black wolf, toward where Phoenix Valley lay, but going was slow. He was not accustomed to traveling light and fast in this form; in fact, this form was terrible for travel. Not only because the four legged form was faster and more endurant, but because he also weighed far less in that form, and his proportions weren't quite the same. Honestly, he didn't understand what sense there was behind the shifting. On all fours, he was a massive wolf, and no mistake. Over two hundred pounds of muscle, and a fair deal of fat, too: he had a naturally beefy build and had difficulty keeping all of the extra weight off, especially when he ate as well as an alpha was supposed to. That build was somehow even more pronounced when he stood on two legs. Sometimes he admired the physiques of slighter wolves, but he knew that even if his body wasn't honed and chiseled, it more than made up for what it lacked in other areas. His excess bulk made his organs harder to find, and even if his muscles weren't well-defined, the curves of his arms made evident the fact that he packed a lot of power in them. Nonetheless, his big, powerful body was slow-moving, and while his reaction time wasn't so poor that he was an easy target in combat, his cross-country speed was completely unimpressive. He had to reduce his pace to a walk, and content himself with the knowledge that haste wasn't a necessity today; he had left many wolves at home to protect the Snow-Capped Pine, and they could hold the valley against their enemies even without their formidable leader. It was because of these internal gripings that Jantus failed to fully appreciate the dense forest after the first few miles, and while he failed to notice the wolf and the dear standing in front of him until he'd been in their few for several seconds already. When he finally turned his head and put them into view of his one eye, he stopped suddenly, sizing them up warily, before relaxing and meeting them with a good-natured smile. "Well, some scout I am. Even with one eye, that's embarrassing." He laughed uneasily, still unsure of why he was looking at a buck and a wolf walking side by side. The deer had caught his gaze first, but it was the wolf who he was clearly addressing. This one had scars everywhere...she reminded him of someone he'd known a while back. Somehow, though, it looked worse on her. She appeared to be missing toes, and her tail was a mess. Jantus wasn't sexist when it came to fighting, but he didn't like to see females beat up to that degree. Maybe it was because he'd been protecting the girls in his family for so long. Either way, it unsettled him a little bit, and a bit of concern touched his brow. "Geez, what pair of fangs did that to you, girl? Or could it be those were left by antlers?" He didn't think it made much sense, but she was walking alongside this deer apparently by choice; he didn't figure deers were smart enough to break a wolf's will, but his brain was trying to fill in any explanation it could. Nevertheless, his body wasn't jumping to the same conclusions his mind was. The massive werewolf did not yet reach for the steel club at his belt. There was no danger here yet.

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[Finn Fidh]

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WC: 571

When the big wolf stepped out from the shadow of the trees, Finn wasn’t sure whether she should start running for her life, or facing him down. With someone that muscled, that tough and rough looking, you could never be sure whether he was simply scarred by the trials of life, or had been scarred for more violent reasons. She chose the medium, her hackles relaxing and her battered tail doing a quick wag. It was nice to see another here. She felt Alastair move away, and watched from the corner of her eyes as he put a bit of distance between him and the newcomer. That was Alastair, always cautious, and rightfully so. Finn was a bit of a freak when it came to food, but most other wolves had normal, healthy and large appetites.

“Nah, yeh weren’t too bad. I didn’t hear you coming till ol’ fuzzy here noticed, and even then I wasn’t sure.” She wiggled the stump of her ear roguishly and grinned a bit wider. Words! Actual words! Not grunts or snorts or bellows or anything else that left Alastair’s rubbery lips, but actual lupine language! Granted, this bloke had a funny accent that she couldn’t place, but that didn’t matter in the least. “Besides, four legs are often much quieter than two.”

That was the other odd thing about this wolf, the first being his eye. Finn was always curious about how others had hurt themselves, it was an odd icebreaker, but it worked a lot of the time. Comparing battle-scars and stories was always quite interesting. It was his shape, though, that piqued her interest more. He was one of those whatchamacallits, Luperci. She'd never been so close to one before and it was rather unnerving to see something that so resembled a wolf stand on two legs. At the wolf’s next sentence, Finn chuckled, casting another glance at the deer who was still edging away quietly

“Alastair? He couldn’t hurt a fly. At least, I think so. I haven’t seen him do much more than eat and annoy me. No, fangs it was that did this, many, many fangs. Oh, and a good helping of claws.” She couldn’t even remember all the wolves that had taken part in the scarification of her pelt. The latest one had been called Stefan or Steve, something that started with an “S”. Either way, he’d been loud and boorish and spoiling for a fight. Finn, though smaller and decidedly more worn, had still bested him and given him a lesson he wouldn’t forget. And, despite his incompetence he had managed to give her a mark she wouldn’t forget either.

“What about your eye? I sincerely hope it wasn’t gored out by a rabid deer, else it would make this conversation… awkward to say the least.” Finn relaxed a little more, confident with the space that lay between them. With the way this wolf was now, she was much faster and much more agile. If he made any threatening moves she’d be gone in the blink of an eye. For now, though, he seemed friendly enough and Finn was just happy to be in the company of another.

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[Jantus]

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┤I think these two might get along pretty well XD├ Jantus was glad that the girl was alright; whatever had hurt her had done so a long time ago. He hadn't smelled blood, so he might have guessed that himself, but at least he wasn't facing anything as unusual as a wolf-mutilating deer. The werewolf's smile widened at the stranger's welcoming tone. Her question came as no surprise...inquisitive wolves--usually pups--never hesitated to ask about the covering over his left side, and once they figured out the eye was gone, inevitably the question arose as to why. "Oh, that? Got poked by a spear-point, actually," he answered, though the topic didn't seem to foul his mood any. He hadn't been sensitive concerning his injury since the first few days, when he was still coping with the thought of going through life half-blind. Since that time, he had rebounded, and his spirit never had another glum day facing the prospect. Life had gone on, and he'd felled many other opponents thereafter, though he had a few more scars on his left side than his right, nowadays. "Spear-wielders are tricky little bastards, never as far away as they look. What about you? Looks like a whole lot of people decided they didn't like you at the same time. Or are you the kind that's unpopular everywhere you go?" While his words might have been insensitive, his tone was still genial, spoken with no ill-intent. That was something that those around him needed to get used to: serious things tended to slide off his back, and he often incorrectly expected that other people would have a similarly easy time getting over them. It had taken his sister, Mala, quite a while to forgive a comment he'd made about her friend Tymara, who had fallen in a mission relating to the War of Shadows. As relaxed as he felt, he couldn't shake the strangeness of a deer being present for the conversation. Doubtless the animal couldn't understand them, and being that he'd never bothered to learn the low languages, he would be unable to understand it, either. He had heard once from an expert hunter that knowing the low speech was a crucial skill for the master hunter, but the methodology stunk to him. You couldn't learn low speech without befriending an lower animal, and it didn't sit right with him to befriend an animal whose cousins you were planning to kill. Currently, he wasn't sure how he felt about this...Alastair. In his current form he was far too slow to catch a wary deer, though he undoubtedly had the sheer physical strength to kill one if he caught it. No, he'd content himself with company for now. He'd try to catch some food later.

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[Finn Fidh]

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WC: 557

Finn took another look at the wolf. He was so very tall. She couldn’t even imagine looking down at the world from a height like that. On the whole, luperci made her feel nervous, envious and even a little inferior. They could build and fight with weapons, while the best she had at hand were her teeth, claws and good old-fashioned ingenuity. This whole land seemed to be filled with luperci, she had yet to meet another regular wolf. She was out of her league here. An ant among giants. So, if surrounded by a possibly hostile world, what would that ant do? Make friends with some of the bigger giants of course.

“I’ll take your word for it. I’ve never met a wolf who could lift a spear, let alone wield it.” She’d come from the far west, were the virus had not yet taken so strong a hold. Every wolf she had met face to face, or fought, had been a plain old canine. Her father had told her stories of the freakish wolves of the east, who ran on two legs and lived in houses. She’d scoffed, thinking them fairy tales. As soon as she left home, however, she’d seen the truth of it. Stopping to drink at a small stream, a great, silver-furred luperci had loped out of the trees, calm as anything, and knelt to slake his own thirst on the opposite bank.

They’d stared each other down for a moment, before going on their ways. Finn had never forgotten his eyes, a brilliant gold, and the unwolfish smile he’d given her. Worst of all, he’d been wearing clothes. A shirt and pants! What would they think of next, shoes? This wolf didn’t appear to care as much about being covered as the one from Finn’s past, but it would be a blind wolf who didn’t notice the rather fierce club that hung by his side.

“I’ll have you know I am as friendly and optimistic a wolf as they come. A real social butterfly. I just have a problem with saying no. I’ve never backed down from a fight, though if you challenged me I’d be sorely tempted to amend that record.” Finn shot him a crooked grin, her left lip showing off every tooth on the side of her mouth. She had been more hot-headed in her early youth, full of seemingly righteous anger and clashing feelings. She’d let it out through fighting, and paid for it with bits of her hide.

“I’ve been scrapping since I was knee high. See this? My ear? My brother ripped it off when I wasn’t but ten months old. I don’t think he meant to do it, but, well and ear’s an ear.” Aegnus had teased her something horrible after the fact too. Talk about adding insult to injury. If anyone called her Lugless again she’d rip their throat out herself.

”M’name’s Finn.” Finn said, wagging her crooked tail a little more. ”And since I can’t think up any decent or flattering nicknames for you, you should probably tell me your name before “Cyclops” sticks.” A bad joke, but she didn’t think he’d take offense. The wolf seemed quite easygoing and Finn was happy to just to talk.

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[Jantus]

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┤├ "Ha ha!" barked Jantus. "You wouldn't be the first to find that name fitting, but Jantus is my given name. And that's quite a way of ripping up one's hide, never saying no. I'm guessing you know you'll get yourself killed if you don't learn?" The mood was still light, but marginal concern showed in his lone eye, even if his voice showed none. He had known plenty of women to get injured in battle, and plenty of others who died in it. Still, with all of his sisters and daughters, he couldn't shake a certain feeling of protectiveness; he didn't like seeing the females competing with larger males. Seeing Finn's condition didn't do anything to convince him this feeling was wrong. "Some brother, though," he snorted, the first bit of real negative feeling coming into his voice. "I wrestled with my little sisters plenty rough and they never lost no ears over it. Sounds to me like he was being careless." It shouldn't have bothered him, but Jantus was a brother of three sisters himself, two of them a year younger than himself. One was estranged, but he cared about all of them deeply. He'd practically raised Mala and Ranya. He was biased, but he had no sympathy for a male who would hurt his sister. "Whether I challenge you or not, I think you should get over that habit...even someone as big as me knows there's always someone in the world who's stronger. Do you ever shift when you accept these fights? Your wounds aren't patterned like you were standing upright. Might be you'd fair better with two clawed hands." He knew that he certainly did. He hadn't actually fought too much on four legs, but he knew it was a good deal nastier, having seen it a fair deal. A wolf's body wasn't any good for dodging or side-stepping, it moved forward quickly, and it could shuffle backwards, but by design it was poor at avoiding damage. To get in range with your teeth, you had to get in range of your foe's teeth; as long as your enemy was facing you, there were no exceptions to this. The winner, to his experience, was decided almost completely either by who lost their nerve first, or in the event of two fighters who were both willing to fight to the death, who got the first solid hold around the face or neck. He wasn't as skilled as his friend Skoll, but he far and away preferred fights with more technique and freedom of movement than what close-in quadrupedal fighting allowed.

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[Finn Fidh]

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WC: 538

“Jantus.” She stated the name, thinking it over, if only to remember it. She had trouble with names sometimes, which was odd, because she didn’t know that many wolves.

“Perhaps I will, perhaps I won’t. I think I’d rather go out with a bang, teeth wrapped round the throat of my enemy than in my elder years. Besides, the more I fight, the more I learn and the more I learn the better I get.” She was a little surprised at the brief flash of concern in his eyes. Most thought Finn idiotic for being so gung-ho, or pitied her wounds. She didn’t like pity and she wasn’t an idiot, but it was nice to have someone concerned on her part. Father Fidh had never been the concerning type, he’d taught his sons how to fight, how to win and how not to whine about it if you lost, and that was it. Brom had been the one to take care of her after Aegnus got too rough. She missed Brom. He’d been the sane one, the dissenter to his father’ and brother’s methods. Brom was probably dead now, for not holding his tongue when Aegnus gave him that look, or arguing with Father a few times too many.

“Eh, Aegnus was like that. Always had something to prove. I got him back for it eventually, gave him a big bite right on the nose. Every time he talked afterward it sounded like he had a hell of a cold.” He’d been sore about that scar for a while. It ruined his looks, not that he had much to ruin to begin with. Finn wondered if he had found a mate, raised pups. She sincerely wished his future children good look; Finn would rather be reincarnated as a beetle than as one of that blunderer’s brood. Father was probably still kicking too, sulking around his domain like the scruffy old scarecrow he was. Lord and Master of miles upon miles of empty, boring, frigid mountains. She’d been glad to leave those windy heights for the more temperate parts of the world. Her coat wasn’t meant for winter, despite it’s curls. She was too thin, she didn’t have enough fat on her bones to insulate the cold.

“Would if I could. I don’t have another form, not one that I know of anyways. I’m just a plain old wolf.” Finn felt another tinge of envy at her own words. Oh, the things she could do if she could actually lift or hold things with her paws! Jantus was right, it looked much easier to fight on two feet. But even as she thought of the possibilities, a little voice in the back of her head warned her against such thoughts. The luperci were not normal, not real wolves. That was what she had been taught. And the thought of striving to become one scared her silly.

“So, what brings you to this place, Jantus?” She said, trying to shift the topic a little. He seemed to be a wanderer, as far as she could tell, he didn’t have the scent of any pack in this area at least.

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[Jantus]

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┤├ Well, that explained things a fair deal. Four-legged fights were nastier, you couldn't get out of the way, and if both parties were willing, both of them would get chewed up a fair deal. What bothered him more was that it was difficult to get any better because so much relied on straight, bull-headed willingness to plow through personal damage, which--admittedly--he had plenty of. In the fights he'd had on all fours, he had done well because he had so much padding, and so much power. He could usually get on top of his foe and from there the fight was easy if they hadn't managed to latch onto his face or neck. He laughed at her comment about her brother, but it didn't make him feel much better about it. Over time, it seemed like she had definitely taken the worst of it, though without her brother to compare, he supposed it was impossible to say. For his part, his serious fights had all been by necessity, not familial quarrels; he felt that he hadn't taken a single wound needlessly. He'd had a semi-serious bout with Skoll in the bronze wolf's tournament, but that hadn't gone so well. "Well, I'd guess you know that becomin' a werewolf isn't all that hard? All you need is a blood-swap of some kind, or a blood-bath, I guess, where lots of their spit gets into your wounds. Barring that, havin' sex with one will also pass it over to you." He said this relaxedly, but started after a moment, his face wrinkling as he laughed at his own slip. "Not that I'm making offers, Finn, got a loving mate back home. As for what I'm doin' out here, that's a less than happy thing, 'fraid to say." His big smile faded, and he cast his eyes down for a moment, before meeting hers again and continuing. "Friend of mine by the name of Skoll passed on here about a year ago. I meant to come earlier, but havin' to run a pack slows down yer personal plans. Figured I'd wait until some of his other friends were free, and we're all comin' up together. Scoutin' ahead myself to find the trail so our number don't alarm anybody when we stumble into the wrong place." He would have asked her if she had known him, but he thought that she'd say something if she recognized the name. "He was a real character. Meanest in a fight I ever saw, though apparently not meaner than the wolf who got him. Only person I can think of who's got you matched in scars."

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[Finn Fidh]

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WC: 459

Gah! I love your table so very much! <3

“Well I wasn’t aware of all the ways it could be done, but thank you for education.” Finn state dryly, eyes crinkling up into another grin. “No worries. Besides, if you tried to make a move on me, I bet Alastair wold have something to say, isn’t that right?” She addressed the last of the sentence at the deer, who was standing placidly near a thick oak tree. Finn’s smile stretched wider, and Alastair snorted, turning away to scratch his horns against the bark.

”Real night in shining armour, that one.” She chuckled, rolling her eyes. Inside, her heads was starting to go in circles. She was lying before when she said she had known. It was possible for a regular wolf to become luperci? She was caught between mentally jumping for joy and smacking herself with a paw just to slap the silliness out of her head. What would Father Fidh say if he knew she was thinking these thoughts? Probably nothing, he’d just get all disapproving like and shake his head. Aegnus would be disgusted, Brom just confused. It was strange, how even now Finn’s family still had a hold on her, despite the fact that two thirds of them were heavily disliked and the other might be taking a permanent dirt nap even as she talked.

“Skoll? Never heard of him, though I’m sorry he’s dead. I would’ve liked to meet him. I know scars don’t really make the warrior, but still… He must of been something.” She spoke truthfully this time. She’d always held a special fondness for wolves scarred like herself, a sense of fellowship.

“You’re an alpha?” Finn asked, put off balance. Alphas were often the ones who had tossed her out of packs in the past, usually presenting her with another scar to boot. She had no particular fondness for them, but Jantus seemed all right. To hide her confusion she jumped to her feet and sketched out a quick bow, one eyebrow raised. ”Then I suppose I should be acting with more respect, Lord Jantus.” She jested, tongue lolling a bit and ruining the presentation.

Finn tilted her head a bit, torn ear towards the ground, thinking. She had been pretty bored these last few months, maybe Jantus wouldn’t object if… ”Ah, I don’t suppose you’d mind if I came along? I mean, I haven’t got much else to do aside from sit here and play baby-sitter to Alastair. Only if you don’t mind, though.” The words came out in a rush, leaving Finn sitting there awkwardly, a trying to smile winningly and failing. Alastair rolled his eyes and carried on scratching at the tree.

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[Jantus]

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┤There we go! Got a little too into it, lol. I can find the thread that Jantus's tale depicts, if you've ever got time enough to burn XD├ Well, this was an amusing enough conversation. He was having a good time talking to this little she-wolf, cut up and pitiable though she was...though, to hear her tell it, she wasn't pitiable at all, but gave as good as she got. That made him like her more, honestly. She didn't let her hurts drag her down, and that was a good trait in a person. Jantus was never disdainful of those whose injuries cut them deep mentally as well as physically; he had known someone else to lose an eye, and it had soured their disposition terribly thereafter, and they had never recovered their fun-loving spirit. No, he was not critical of those that could not shrug off such wounds, but he thought that doing so made a pack a happier place, and therefore thought it was better when people could, himself included. After all, so many people were dying back when he lost the eye, he didn't figure he had the right to gripe about it for very long. "Naw, I get enough rank recognition back home," he answered to her mock-deference. "But even then, I wouldn't be that kind of leader if it killed me." He tilted his head slightly at her query, and frowned down for a moment. It wasn't as if she could slow him down; she could probably run three times as fast as he could right now, even with her missing toes. He knew she'd have no trouble at all keeping his pace. "By all means, come along," he smiled, extending his upturned hand in the direction he intended to set off. "It's been a lonely enough march. I can't scowl out at the wilderness forever, and with a rough-and-tumble lady like yourself, I'm sure no one will give me any trouble." He snickered a bit at his wit, such as it was, and started off down his path, assuming she'd follow closely behind. "I don't know what your friend will think of it, though. I'm a big wolf, with a big appetite! I can't catch him, but I'm plenty strong to take on a deer in this form." He was mostly joking. He wouldn't be making any attempts on this "Alastair"'s life, not while it clearly seemed to have some relationship to his new companion. On the other hand, it wasn't always easy to catch food in this form, and it would be awfully tempting, what with a deer willingly being so close for an extended period of time. Either way, he doubted it would come up: the deer would be a fool to get anywhere near his reach as they walked. Walking merrily on his way, he shot back to an earlier point in their conversation and decided to pick it up from there. Someone like her might be interested in Skoll, and himself, for that matter. After all, to someone who fights as often as she said she had, someone like the bronze wolf would certainly have been impressive. That was what Bold and he had thought when they finally got to see the old wolf fight. They had respected him for the courage of his crusade before. They were awed by him after that. "As for Skoll, you bet he was. Something, that is. I said mean, but that 'ent the half of it. He moved like no one else alive. Don't get me wrong; wasn't faster than most, nor stronger than me, but it was like he always knew where to go and what to do. Always knew the weak point to strike, always knew where you were gonna attack and what to do about it. First showed up in my pack injured, asking us for troops of all things, for a war he wanted to wage. The people he needed to fight were of a real bad sort, and there were a lot of them. Nastier than you would believe, or nastier than you will believe, because I don't wanna describe them just now, raw business that it is. A dozen of us went with him, less than half the pack, since we were pretty big at the time." He took in a breath, and scented the air as he did, a brief flare of sunlight through a break in the canopy falling in a column all along his height. "Anyway, I never saw him do this personally, but after seeing what he could do, I believed the tale. Had friends with him that attested to it, though neither of them had seen more than the tale end of it. Turns out--and this was long before he met the wolf that killed him--Skoll was the guardian of a pack in a land north of this one, a place called Storm. Twelve of these raider types--of the sort I mentioned earlier--come in, bearing weapons and mean-spirits, all. Seven of 'em trespassed across the border under cover of dark, plannin' on slaughter and other, worse things, which I said I wouldn't mention. "He takes upon them in the dark, and single-handedly kills all seven. They cut him up something terrible; he told me later that it wasn't an honorable thing, him having killed three of them in the dark before the other four found him. Believe that? Seven on one, and he thinks it wasn't fair 'cause he used the dark! So anyways, he kills seven of these monsters, and patches himself up right quick, before comin' down the slope to the border where the rest are waiting. Three of 'em ran when the death-howls of their comrades were comin' down the hill, so there's two left. He just walks into where they're waitin', bold as day, and cuts through their fell work on a prisoner they'd taken. Kills one immediately, and cuts up the other as bad as the other four cut him up. Then, this last one tackles him to the ground and they have it out. "Way he says it, his hand was messed up, and I saw that much: was wearin' a brace all the early months I knew him, and he was bleedin' bad and his enemy was so frenzied and wild that he couldn't control him with just one hand, and couldn't use those skills I was talking about earlier. This part one of his friends saw: he goes crazy himself, just as crazy as any wolf with the rabies, and the two of them fight it out like they were on four legs, rollin' and tearin' and shreddin' at each other for minutes and minutes until finally the intruder's body gives out, and Skoll's right after. They'd savaged each other to the point of dyin', and they both would have. Turns out the stranger he'd saved, a she-wolf named Sarah, knew some healing. Fixed up Skoll, said she wasn't sure if the other could've been saved or not, but she didn't try." He smiled to himself, remembering the tale, and how he'd scoffed when he'd first heard it. Then, the first time he'd seen Skoll fight, how impressed he'd been, and all the subsequent times until, finally, he found that he believed that story. "Too ridiculous to believe, I'd say, but I'd swear it was true. He never lied to me, far as I could tell. Had no reason to, not about that. He definitely was great. Just not great enough to dodge his death there are the end. No idea what attack it was that brought him down. Must have been someone of terrible ability, though."

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[Finn Fidh]

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WC: 400+

I hope you don't mind that I'm not trying to match your last post's length. XD

Finn listened eagerly, easily falling into step with Jantus. He was big, but Finn took long legs and took longer strides. She loved stories. Loved them since the very beginning, when she was nestled up in the warm darkness of the den, surrounded by her father and brothers. Back then, when she was so little she could barely stand, Aegnus was a lot nicer, and Brom worried less, and Cuhlain actually smiled. The stories were her lifeblood, she gained sustenance from them in the lieu of mother’s milk, learned the ways of the world from the cadences and tone in her father’s voice.

He’d told her so many tales of valiant wolves and bloody battles, of the fierce, white bears from the north and the giant cats from the south. He’d told her how to heal wounds and treat illness, painting pictures of the flowers and herbs with his voice, since none could grow on the icy mountain top. Most importantly, he’d told her of the Luperci. They were always the villains, always causing trouble for the decent, hardworking and loyal wolves. They were portrayed as shape-shifters that stole wolfs clothes so as to infiltrate packs and cause mischief. For most of her early life, Finn had hated them with a passion.

Some of that hate had remained throughout the years, clinging to her soul despite the cleansing of her mind. Deep down, she still resented them. But she knew that those emotions had simply been crafted by a wily old wolf with too much misery in his life no to share it with others. He’d been wrong about lot’s of things. He was wrong about the Luperci as well. As Finn saw more and more of the world, she found it harder and harder to believe that an entire species were evil by default. It was impossible. Circumstances created the person, it wasn’t the other way around. Perhaps that was why Finn was so accepting to coyotes and deer like Alastair. They weren’t automatically enemies or prey till proven otherwise.

”The curse of the old is to wane and see the next generation wax.” Finn quoted, nodding at Jantus’s words. She looked around, seeing the bulky form of Alastair drifting through the gloom. He barely seemed to make a sound whenever he walked, even Finn found it creepy. ”I’m on a journey as well, I think.” The grey wolf said, ”Though I’m sure where the destination is, or who I’m looking for. I’m a little lost.” She admitted. For the first time in her three years, she had found herself meandering in circles, purposeless and possessed of an urge to find something. Maybe it was life as a pack wolf, or pups of her own, or another battle. She’d know what it was when she found it.

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[Jantus]

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┤It's totally fine! I don't think I matched yours this time << We're both still writing posts that are plenty-long as is!├ Jantus furrowed his brow at her words. It was wisdom, he supposed, though he hadn't expected to receive sage counsel from the perky little she-wolf at his knees. Yes, it was true that elder wolves would always eventually be forced out of their functions by younger, generally more capable kids from the next generation. Sometimes that happened quite rapidly, sometimes it took longer. He supposed it made sense that the two wolves that had escaped--both of them in better physical condition than Skoll, who carried a lifetime worth of scar-tissue and seven years of age to slow him down--would be able to best him, if they had his level of fighting skill. It was just hard for the big wolf to wrap his mind around; when someone defined the limit of a thing in your mind, seeing that limit surpassed was always vexing. "Guess so. And here I was always worried I'd just run into someone bigger than me!" he bellowed a deep laugh. "But you're definitely right. Especially in my pack back home, that'll be true. The leader has to be one of the strongest, and he's got to have a good head on his shoulders. I'm a little shaky on the latter, but until I start waning I'll enjoy my strength!" Joking aside, he turned his head down to hear her out, craning his neck to regard his four-legged companion. He nodded his head in understanding. "I know how that is. My sisters and I wandered around for a while before we found the Snow-Capped Pine pack. It's not great, working and living alone, I'm glad we had one another. It may be harder on you if you just go with that deer over there...but it may be better than nothing. Provided he doesn't warn his friends about your appetite." With his last statement, he couldn't help but break into a smile and look back at their quiet friend. "He really doesn't care that you're a wolf, huh?" His hunger had left in place of curiosity. What would possess a deer to take on a wolf as a travel companion? It was a very strange business indeed...and a very foolish one, he should think, for a deer. "If worst comes to worst, you could always find some of the other loners out here and ask them how this community of packs gets on. Learn about the different groups and find out if anything of them sound right for you. That was what my sisters and I did. We passed on by many packlands before we finally settled on a place we liked. Good land, good food, good people. If you can get those three things together, you've probably found what you're looking for, whether you knew you were looking for it or not."

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[Finn Fidh]

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WC: 400+

True. I think Alastair wants to get street cred, so he hangs with Finn. XD

”I think you’d have to look for a very long time before you found someone bigger than yourself.” Finn chuckled, looking up at Jantus. She had seen big wolves, fought some of them too, but no regular wolf could compare to the height and shoulder width of Jantus. She would have laughed herself silly if she had met Jantus before and then happened on some puffed up old frog boasting about how he was the biggest and the strongest. Certainly, if she ever came across so arrogant a wolf again, she would be able to burst his bubble quickly enough.

”I can’t really catch deer. I don’t have the stamina, nor the strength to bring anything but a fawn or an elder down. And Alastair doesn’t seem to like deer. He’s a weird one, to be sure. I think he hit his head and believes he’s a wolf too, or something like that. He follows me around most of the time, and sometimes he’ll go off on his own, but he doesn’t go looking for other deer, and he doesn’t stick around if some of his type come walking about. I wonder, if I learned the low speech, if he’d tell me why…” Finn said, before shaking her head and laughing again.

”But that would make me even stranger than I am!” Her brother Aegnus had a dislike that bordered on contempt for all of the lower creatures. They were food, you didn’t go being friendly to something that would be in your stomach by the next morning. Finn disagreed. Her brother had been wrong about a lot of things, and after the stunts he’d pulled she was disinclined to side with his opinions. Besides, if she tried to take a bite out of Alastiar, he’d kick her in the head or stick her with one of his sharp antlers. Getting scars from fighting wolves was all well and fine, but a deer? That would just be embarrassing.

”Yeah, well…” Finn looked away, shrugging her shoulders, ”Pack life and I have never gotten along so great.” She wanted to belong, she really did, but it was hard. Alphas tended to view you as a liability when you took to fighting as much as Finn did. She never fought with pack members, but anyone else was fair game and tended to cause trouble with the inter pack relations. Finn snorted out a breath at a tumbling leaf, avoiding Jantus’s eyes. She didn’t want him to judge her, but he was a pack wolf, an Alpha, and would probably know a couple troublemaker wolves who’d tried to join over the years.

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[Jantus]

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┤Sorry for delays, lots of reading homework!├ Jantus laughed along with her, but he knew bigger wolves existed. She was right, it had taken him a while, but there were a lot of people willing to die in the War of Shadows. Large though he was, he hadn't been the biggest of them. He remembered a big black-furred male who had run off with a group of smaller cultists. Skoll had ordered Graelthrim, Tymara, and the twins to pursue them. From the reports he'd gotten, the groups had eventually met, just within the boundaries of the Bleeding Souls territory, where the cultists had been assigned to stir up trouble, allegedly in an effort to divert attention from the main battle, or failing that, to punish their leader for leaving home at all in the blood of his people. Tymara and her group had dispatched the cultists, but by the time all was said and done, the diversion had cost both groups their lives. Jantus wondered just who had killed that big black monster. To her next claim, Jantus snorted abruptly. "Nothing wrong with bein' a little strange, Finn. It's the strange ones that people remember. All my best friends have been a little weird after one fashion or another. Learnin' low speak may seem pointless to me, but might be it makes sense if you take to traveling with brain-damaged deer." He snickered at this last, but kept pace with the more light-footed she-wolf beside him. It was a little awkward talking to someone whose head was five feet lower than his own, but it certainly wasn't the first time. "No? You a loner at heart, then?" He squinted down at her for a moment as she avoided his eyes, and decided better of it. Judging by her tone, that wasn't it at all. "Have trouble fitting in, eh? Well, that happens to the best of us. Even my friend Skoll got exiled from a pack, once. Twice to hear Aivyr tell it. Aivyr, that's one of my traveling companions. Anyway, Skoll had saved a little girl from the clutches of this rogue coyote group...Inferni, I believe. This group taught their adolescent children to fight, and tossed them into the fray. Understandably, the tykes get hurt: what did the idiots think would happen if they used their kids as fodder for an eight-foot tall werewolf? These coyotes run to Skoll's alpha, and wham, his alpha turns on him just like that: after two years of defending that border, including that fight I mentioned earlier where he nearly got killed, his alpha exiles him out of fear of the coyotes. Tch," Jantus scowled. "If I ever met that alpha of his, I'd give him a piece of my mind. Or of this club. Loyalty deserves better than a quick betrayal the first time it's convenient for public relations. Doubt I'll ever meet the fool; idiots like that usually don't last long in top-dog positions. He was already gone half a year later." Jantus had clearly put himself in a foul mood, but he shook his head slowly and seemed to calm down. "No, packs don't always give reward as they should. I'm guessing you're never saying no helped in that, eh?" he smiled down expectantly, hoping to lighten the mood again.

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[Finn Fidh]

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WC: 500+
Bleh, I had buttloads of homework too. I had to make a presentation on Stalin, and he is one crazy dude.

Finn smiled again, thinking about Jantus’s words. He had a point. The oddities were remembered because they stood out from the pack. Sometimes, though, it was possible to be too odd. She’d been told that by an Alpha a few months back. Finn’s rather frightening appearance had offended some important wolf, and Finn was chased off. But who wanted to be part of a pack like that anyhow? Wolves that lived life by the book, treading the line ever so carefully, didn’t really live at all. Finn looked at life differently.

Sure, she was scarred, a bit battered. But she was alive, and still able to enjoy the fact. She was still quite young, though others might think otherwise by looking at her. She had strength in her bones and the world was still very large and unexplored. This region, with it’s diverse topography and interesting creatures would probably command her attention for months, maybe even years. Who knows, perhaps she’d settle down here. Finn turned the newest thought over in her head, examining it as if it were a strange bug. A mate… Pups… She wanted those things, but never really thought she deserved them.

Finn didn’t have a clue about how to even flirt, much less raise pups! Her father had been okay at it, but then he lost points for raising his only daughter as a boy. Finn still hadn’t gotten over that. It was a strange feeling to remember the certainty she had held only two years ago, strutting around like a little rooster, boasting about how she was going to be a great Alpha when she grew up. Her brothers had ignored her, sometimes Aegnus laughed, but they never questioned their father’s decision. Cuhlain Fidh could be mighty fearsome when he wanted to be.

”The Inferni?” Finn stopped, frowning. ”I’ve heard of them. It was hard not to hear something about the Inferni. Coyotes unfriendly towards wolves? All the loners passed along whispers of where the territory was and what guarded the perimeter. Finn eyed Jantus’s club ”I don’t suppose you’ll be starting something with them, hey?” Finn had nothing against the coyotes, though many might have something against her. The way Finn saw it, an enemy was someone who attacked you. Anyone else was an acquaintance or friend. She’d never understood all the tension between the two races.

As far as Finn was concerned, coyotes were just slimmer, more delicate looking cousins. The fact that they decorated their lands with wolf skulls was a bit in bad taste, but Fin could understand the sentiment. They wanted to keep what was theirs. Wolves had always taken precedence over coyotes, due to their size usually. Wovles got the better lands and the bigger prey, and then turned around and fought with the coyotes. Finn shook her head, it was as stupid as hating the Luperci, something she was vaguely guilty of. Perhaps that was why she could see through thee coyotes eyes, she had her own prejudices too.

"Aye. You’re viewed as somewhat of a liability if you go around brawling all the time. But it would be against my nature not to, it was how I was raised.”

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[Jantus]

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┤I started this post so many times today, and I kept having homework and chores to do! Please forgive me if you ever saw I was posting and became expectant X(├ "Me start anything with them?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrow; it seemed as if the thought hadn't occurred to him. "Well, I guess I could, given all the bad things people say they've done. They wouldn't last long if I brought my pack down on 'em...could be they're fierce as all get-out, but they wouldn't have seen anything close to the bloodshed we have if they've been living in this place. Plus, there's four dozen or so of us at Snow-Capped Pine, and we've all done more than our share of fighting." He smiled to himself before looking down to Finn walking beside him. "No. For all they might deserve it, I didn't come here to drive them out. My friend Skoll was particular about letting these people handle their own coyote problems." He tapped the head of his metal club lightly. "I just brought this thing along in case there's so many of them in one place that they can gather the courage to attack someone my size." He chuckled to himself at that. Skoll had been furious about the coyotes, and it had been something he'd liked about the old man. He'd said that the members of Inferni had gotten away with murder on more than one occasion, and most of it had been unprovoked. Jantus had a less idealistic view of the world than Skoll had, possibly because he was less of a stand-out than Skoll in combat, and figured he wasn't as responsible for what other people did. It didn't bother Jantus all that much to see a people get hurt for being too averse to violence. After all, if there wasn't some penalty for not defending one's self and one's territory, places like the Snow-Capped Pine wouldn't have put up with it for so long. "Well, you'd better find yourself a two-legged form if you're going to brawl all the time. Like you said: you'd have to watch out if someone like me challenged you to a fight. Might be some day a person like me will, especially if you're not as charming as now to all your other acquaintances." His advice was plenty serious, but there was warmth and ease in the way he said it, like it was a concern for down the road and not something to be addressed immediately: as if all of her and his problems were safely on hold while they talked. "Or, I suppose, you could always get a shifter friend, though I think it'd go against your grain to let others fight for you?" He sniffed the air for a moment, but whether he was scenting after food, scouting for enemies, or just curious, was hard to tell. "It's okay to like fighting, Finn, but I could see how an alpha might be a bit worried if you fought your own packmates. One thing I should ask, though: have you ever fought for real?" He spared her an appraising look through his good eye; he had a habit for tactlessness, especially after having spent so long as alpha in a region where peace-time niceties and keeping up forms mattered less than getting down to brass tacks. "Seems a silly question to ask, given all the scars, but you mentioned fighting with your brother as being too rough, and even most border fights are meant to drive off. You ever been in a fight to the death? You ever been in a pack feud or somethin' bigger?" Jantus had been in his share of "somethin' bigger"'s, but he didn't necessarily want to start out talking about that. He'd been in many conflicts before and since Skoll's war, but all of them paled in comparison. Nonetheless, from bronze wolf's description, even his life aside from the big war would be sufficiently impressive to most people he'd meet in Souls' territory.

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[Finn Fidh]

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WC: 600+
Do you think we could slowly start wrapping this thread up? I’m beginning to feel the pinch, homework is starting to multiply. XP

Finn started in surprise, looking up at Jantus with wide eyes. ”Four dozen? Crimony! That’s a lot of wolves. A regular war party.” Finn didn’t think she’d seen that many wolves in one place ever. Some of the packs she’d endeavored to join had been large enough, but usually they had only reached the low twenties in number. Finn couldn’t have stayed in a pack that large. She’d never have gotten any rest with all those wolves everywhere. As much as the grey wolf loved company, she also enjoyed the occasional bout of solitude, if given in small enough parcels.

”Well that’s good.” Finn stated, starting to smile again, ”I’d hate to see you get hurt whilst simply traveling to see a friend’s grave.” She relaxed a little. Though still a newcomer, she could sense that things between the wolves and coyotes were tense. If something were to start, she wouldn’t want a friend get caught in the middle of it. Finn blinked a little, surprised by the latest thought to pop into her head. It was very sudden, she had only met him earlier in the day, but they had talked with more and more familiarity, and Finn had unconsciously started to list Jantus amongst those she enjoyed the company of.

There were very few, despite Finn’s genial nature. She moved around too often and too far to make lasting friends, despite how many connections she might make. There’d once been a young male she’d carried a huge torch for, but the feelings lessened with each mile she had put between them. He probably wouldn’t have liked her in that manner anyway. It was for the best that she hadn’t expressed her feelings about him. Jantus, unfortunately would probably be one of those friends that came and went, making her happy as he was there, and then placed upon a shelf once she had moved on.

”I know, I know I should. There’s just a lot of stuff preventing me.” Finn admitted. She could hardly express her innermost views to Jantus, seeing as he was a Luperci himself. Finn didn’t want to insult him with her quaint and outdated racism. She knew it was wrong, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that becoming a Luperci would be against what was in the cards for herself. ”You’re right, I would never, ever let another fight my battles for me.” Finn stated, looking up at Jantus with a sly smile. ”It’s a matter of personal honor, it is!”

”Oh no, it’s not with packmates that I pick fights. It’s wolves from other packs. Apparently roughing up the impudent nephew of a rival alpha has some consequences for the entire pack.” Finn shrugged her shoulders sheepishly. That had been a mess. ”In fact, now that you mention it, that did lead to a death match. It was only a couple months ago, so I came out the winner, but half of it was blind luck and the rest was me just remembering what others had done to me.” She had felt regret, then, for the nephew of the alpha. He’d come back after she’d brawled with him, demanding a fight to the death. And Finn didn’t say no. Couldn’t have.

After he was dead she’d escaped from the two angry packs in the dead of night, slinking like a cowardly little fox in the undergrowth. But she wasn’t going to tell Jantus that. ”S’where I got this scar.” She said, showing him a particularly gruesome mark along her right side. He’d been a good enough fighter, the nephew, but not good enough to match with Finn’s experience.

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[Jantus]

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┤We can wrap it up as soon as you need. I'm feeling the same phenomenon, myself X(├ The massive were nodded his head at her words. It was good that she had fought seriously at least once. It didn't do to have someone who was too excited about combat, a phenomenon most common of those who had tasted only the competitive side of fighting, and not the visceral one. People as torn up as Finn usually got the picture, but it was best to be sure. After all, not everyone had the same introduction to violence that he'd had. He liked fighting, he couldn't really help himself. He was good at it, and that made him feel pretty good to be strong enough to protect people he cared about: it helped to give him some purpose. Still, that would never take away the first lesson he'd learned about it: fighting was about killing. It didn't always culminate in its intended effect, but nature had created claws and fangs and ferocity to enable creatures to kill one another. There hadn't really been any other way he could see to interpret that day three years ago. "Well, Finn, it's good that you were the one to come out of that then, huh? I guess I shouldn't underestimate you just for being little...'just remembering what others did to you' is sort of telling. Sounds like all that experience came in handy for you." He smiled, genuinely glad to think that she could handle herself and that she'd gotten the best of some jerk who'd tried to pick a fight with her. Torn up as she was, he couldn't help but wish ill on any person who wanted to fight with her, especially to the death. "I rely on experience a lot, too. Everyone outside of Snow-Capped Pine thinks I'm all size, but I've seen enough with just this one eye alone to know what's what about a fight! I don't suppose I know as much as you do about four legs, though: ever since I learned how to shift, I've always wanted to be on two legs for a fight. I was bigger than everyone else unshifted, too; I guess I just liked havin' the arms. They're pretty helpful, especially if you've gotta fight more than one person at a time." He said this while nodding his head slightly, as if it were sage advice. In truth, he didn't like to fight more than one person at a time, but he'd been forced to on several occasions. Unlike Skoll or Twilight, he didn't have the skill or the speed to avoid more than one attacker, though, so he usually ended up weathering a lot of damage before either cleaning them up or having help arrive. "So," he spoke again after a few heartbeats. "No shifters where you come from? What do you think? I've had shifters around my whole life, but I've heard that it's always a shock for someone born 'natural' to see us for the first time. How is that? What did you think the first time you saw one of us?" Finn had done a fair enough job not being intimidated by his stature, probably attributed to her courage or adventurousness, but someone who got into fights as often as she had without her size ever being a serious problem had obviously grown-up in the absence of werewolves. She was one of very very few he'd met in his life. It just came naturally to ask her what it was like. After all, it was a little intriguing to consider that maybe shifters lost something in the transience of their shape.

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[Finn Fidh]

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WC: 500+
Woot woot! This be my last post. It was lot’s of fun threading with you! I really hope Finn and Jantus meet again.

”I suppose they would be good for ,” Finn said, ”With the way I fight, you’re good for attacking someone in front of you, but completely screwed if you get more than one lunging at you from the sides or behind.” She’d only had to deal with a melee once, but Finn had had enough of that kind of fighting for a lifetime. The sheer vulnerability amongst wolves fighting en masse was incredible. It was dangerous, and a lot of wolves had died during that one, big fight. Perhaps that was why Finn avoided a pack, being with others meant that someday you’d have to fight beside them, knowing full well that their number might be drawn that day.

”No, no shifters at all. We were pretty secluded, my family. Up in the mountains, so we didn’t rub shoulders with anyone who could have carried the trait. My brothers and I, we’d heard stories about your kind. I’ll bet my father had met a couple before I was born, but I didn’t see a real shifter till I was a year old. After that, the farther east I travelled, the more I saw. But I hadn’t really gotten close up to talk to one till you.” She flicked her tail pensively, ”It’s nice to see you aren’t as bad as I was lead to believe.

Finn slowed, the sunlight was growing stronger as the trees thinned. Up ahead, she could see a long stretch off blue water, vanishing off into the distance. ”The sea…” Finn murmured, staring at it in awe. She had never been to the ocean, never seen anything quite so large. The scope was unimaginable. She looked askance at Jantus, grinning from ear to ear. The forest had been cool, but now she could feel the light on her fur, and it added to her already pleasant mood.

”You’ve given me something to think about.” She said, ”Perhaps I will join a pack, I am starting to tire of this lonely, aimless wandering.” She looked towards the sea again, Alastair had broken cover from the forest and was slowly meandering down the rolling hills. He looked at ease and quite happy in the warm, fall air. ”I’m not sure where I’ll go from here. I think I’d like to see the ocean more closely, and perhaps I’ll meet a pack wolf who can give me a better idea of where to go from there.”

She turned to Jantus fully and dipped into a bow. ”Thank you for your time. If we ever meet again, I hope it is under circumstances as good as these. Good luck, Jantus.” With that, she turned, following the Alastair out into the light of day. She turned once, flicking her ear in an offhanded salute, and raced after her companion. As she ran, the grass smooth under her paws and the water sparkling like some gigantic jewel, Finn couldn’t help but grin. She’d made a friend, one she truly intended to meet again, knowing full well that it meant staying in this new land. And she didn’t mind the idea in the least. She had Alastair and a goal now, an objective. For now, that was enough.

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