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Another day of easy hunting. Skoll wasn't great with the bow yet, and he couldn't hope to hit a moving target. Still, if he was quiet, and kept near to the rabbit trails, he could usually land an arrow in at least one, sometimes two. His belly full, now all he wanted was to be able to sleep peacefully. That dilemma would be a little trickier in the fixing, but at least it wasn't life threatening. The day was well underway, past noon, and he was looking for a place to rest after spending the first five hours of the day hunting. The bow really was an ingenious tool, though part of him felt bad. If the hunger pangs hadn't been getting to him, he would feel much worse about giving his prey so little chance of escape.
The river flowed sedately by, this being one of the wider stretches of the Yawrah, and Skoll decided to make himself comfortable. Putting the bow aside, he began to unstring it. He had learned how to properly fit the string by watching Maria, and he was glad. He didn't understand the bow well enough to know that the string would lose its resistance if kept taught all the time, but she had strung and unstrung hers, so he mimicked her, even if he knew not why. It was proving an extremely useful tool, but he couldn't help but be reminded of Yvret One-Eye, who had used a much more complex version of the weapon at Skoll's back to strike down wolves. With only one eye, he should not have had the depth perception to use his bow accurately...Skoll wondered if he'd used landmarks on the battlefield to gauge distance.
Pushing those old images from his thoughts, Skoll sat himseld down and listened to the rushing of the water. He liked this place, always had. Though it was not as useful to him as the Concrete Jungle, it was infinitely more beautiful, a sentiment that his great grandfather, VoidFane, hadn't shared. Odd, to think that the human wasteland had been Skoll's first sight in Bleeding Souls. No matter. He had lived here for three years now, and even though he had fulfilled the task set before him by his ancestor, protecting Storm for as long as he was able, he felt compelled to stay. Damn, this place is beautiful.
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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Sorry about the wait, I've been either busy or too exhausted to do much lately.
[html] The pain that had awoken within him had eventually started to cease. Though the last few nights of sleep had been unfit and often restless, Valentine was adjusting to the fact that he would no longer be able to reminisce with Phasma like he had wanted to. For the most part, those that had known her in the pack had been sombre and after a while that had slowly begun to wear on him like time did to the oldest of buildings. It had driven him out for the day and over to places that he hadn't recognised before. Though he had distantly heard the sound of the river as it rushed by, the true nature of its tranquillity had never appealed to him until he had come across it. When he did, it stirred a sense of comfort that he had been missing for quite some time.
The wintry chill in the air no longer worked its ways to his skin, but the bite of the frigid water had stung his hands fiercely when he had gotten a drink. The wind was caught in the trees and it skewed his bangs around a little bit, but he didn't muster the energy to brush them out of his eyes entirely. It wasn't until he had come around a forested bend in the path that something did catch his eye. The something rather, became a someone. Just from the sheer size and build of the fellow downstream from him should have told him to stay away, but Valentine never thought that he could be possibly unfriendly. He was just that naïve, paying little heed to the burly wolf's scars, other than viewing them as him being a skilled fighter. Or perhaps someone who had been beat up a few times. Who really knew besides the actual fellow himself?
The bow and arrow get up did catch his eye, sparking a firm memory of playing archery and ultimately being his prompt for conversation when he stepped in close enough to do so. “That's the first time I've seen anyone around here who had one of those,” he commented, “and you've got quite a nice bow, if I may add. Do you specialise in archery, or are you just a hunter?” Some didn't see the difference between sport and tool, but Valentine did. It was an absent-minded throwback to the fact that he hadn't been raised there for very long, if any time at all. [/html]
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It's all good.
The bronze wolf nodded slightly in acknowledgement to the newcomer, a casual greeting. The scent of Jaded Shadows was on him, though that should come as no surprise; he was at least as close to Jaded Shadows as he was to Storm here by the Yawrah River. Pulling the bow from his back, he gave it a long, critical look, studying its curve and its taughtness.
"To tell you the truth, I'm pretty new to it, not a very good shot yet. I only use it to hunt, I specialize in unarmed fighting." He was a fair hand with an axe too, but he didn't pride himself on that. Anyone could kill with a steel edge, he felt, though some displayed a definite knack for it. No, he was no great archer. A shame too, since this new wolf kindly pointed out that he had happened upon quite a nice instrument in this particular bow. He didn't even know the tools well enough to discern one from the next...there was no edge that he could check for sharpness, or use to discern crafting quality. It seemed that this archery business was an entirely different sort of talent from what he was used to.
"Thanks," he said awkwardly. "I didn't even know. I met a wolfess in the human city, she gave me the bow and taught me to shoot and string it. Other than her brief period of guidance, I don't know anything about these, except that I've seen them used to kill before." Not exactly the happiest of memories floating around in his head, but he needed to eat. Mental health could come later. He wouldn't be abandoning this bow until his stomach healed sufficiently that he could adopt his old method of hunting again.
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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[html] “Oh, it was quite the weapon for Man's Dark Ages and I'm sure many wolves have used them before for such a purpose. I liked archery, myself.” Mostly because he wasn't much of a fighter, but that wasn't to say that he couldn't do some harm with a bow. “It does take some practice, but you look like you could master that thing in time. They're not hard once you learn how to get the aiming down,” he continued on with a friendly smile.
The passing thought that there was someone who was an archer among their wolfish ranks (disregarding pack, of course) was a pleasant thing to dote on… unless of course she was some crazy wolf who shot at passer-bys. Then it would have been an entirely different story. Studying the bow once more, it also dawned on Valentine that he hadn't even introduced himself. Then again, it wasn't too out of the common to approach a stranger conversationally, was it?
“I guess I've forgotten my manners a bit, but I'm Valentine Valiant, from Jaded Shadows.” Including both fore and surnames seemed proper too, because he knew he was speaking to someone who was much older than he and obviously more than likely deserved utmost respect. Of course, which was ironic, given who his mother was and how often she had blatant disregard for manners. [/html]
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The tall were nodded at the introduction. This wolf was pleasant enough, the very fact that he was not immediately put off by Skoll's appearance was indication enough that he was worth bandying a few words with. He couldn't help but think there was a familiar quality about the Shadows' wolf, but as many people he'd met in his time, that feeling was not unusual.
"Your manners are fine by me. I'm Skoll. I'd share a last name, but I don't have one. My birth pack had a jumble of old traditions, but we missed that one. A bit peculiar, as I've found them a lot during my travels." Then again, StoneTree was not exactly a center of culture or bustling activity. To find true civilization, or at least any sizeable populations, one had to travel southward.
"So," he held the bow out for the other to study, if he wished. "What makes this bow any better than any other? I can tell a sharp blade from a dull one, a slashing weapon from a stabbing one, true skill from bluff and bluster, but you have me at a loss here. What makes this bow stand out?" He was curious. He usually found himself the teacher, but he was willing and eager to learn when the opportunity presented itself.
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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[html] Perhaps the name should have hang a bell; it did, almost distantly, but Valentine didn't act on it. Names were names and as of that very moment, he was far too occupied with accepting the bow to view and examine then probe his memory banks for a wild story told to him some time ago. “Well, traditions are a very good thing to have. That's part of the reason why I came back here to this place,” and one of these days he was going to be known for giving entirely useless information. “One cannot be absurdly well-rounded without a good culturing… but I digress. What makes this bow special is the fact that it's made from a nice hardwood. It's been sealed pretty well as well,” he carried on, feeling the curve of the bow as though it were made of glass.
He handled it in quite the same way, too. “It shouldn't break on you in the coldest of cold weather or warp if you decide to take it to somewhere annoying humid and warm. The string's made of a nice material too, but it'll eventually wear out down the road—they all do—and best of all, it's just the right size for someone of your build to use.” Whoever had picked out the tool had certainly known what they were doing. “If it were too large to use, you wouldn't be able to put enough strength into your shot, and too small and you'd constantly overshoot and run the risk of cracking the frame.” Then, very carefully, he offered the bow back to its owner. [/html]
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Skoll copied the black wolf's caution with the bow, treating it with a reverance he had not afforded it before. He didn't know what some of those terms meant, sealing, hardwood...but he was grateful for the analysis, anyway. He hadn't been too far south, most of his travels had transpired in the North and the west, but he was glad to know that the bow would survive the cold; there was plenty of cold in the places he had been.
"Indeed, traditions make a culture, and culture can be very important. It can make or break a society, really." He'd met groups that were pacifistic to the point of being unable to take care of themselves, and others that were so lenient about murder that they let it happen to their own children and still did nothing to rectify the problem. The cult that he and his army had slain(to their best knowledge...they had managed a resounding success in the last leg of the war where guerilla fighting had been prevalent), had been the worst he'd ever seen, slaughtering adults and children alike in grotesque rituals that involved giving them 'wings' and burning their eyes out. Storm's tradition of neutrality had kept its members out of trouble, though; StoneTree's tradition of expelling its hardiest members(the youngest adults were often selected) had kept the group alive through many a winter, and traditions of seniority in packs all over the land (usually) meant that no one became alpha who the group did not trust.
"So, you came back here for traditions' sake. I take it you lived here before?" It was no surprise they didn't know each other if that was true. Skoll's life as a guard on Storm's border had been upset a great deal in the last few years, between going off to war on madmen and their cultist army and being expelled for getting involved with Inferni, he had been here there and everywhere. He had never been a truly social wolf, duty always came before pleasure, and the border was always there for protecting, but he had met quite a few new faces in recent days. It was nice, after a fashion. His return to the life of a vagabond had its perks.
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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I apologise for the shortness but wanted to reply while I still had a chance. :X
[html] “That's right,” he replied concisely. “I was born in Syemv… just about a couple of years ago now. I lived there until I was about six months old and then my parents decided to go south and raise me up there.” They had never said way to him, though he had his own little theories. He imagined the biggest reason was to shelter him; something Valentine felt was worth being resentful for. Though it was mostly true that a life of a vagabond certainly had its perks, he had never caught onto the same sort of wanderlust that his parents and a great deal of his family had. “So how long have you lived around these parts?” [/html]
[html] I figured why not have him remember Valentine's dad. As long as there isn't too much to remember, it probably won't be that serious, just a cool tidbit 'Oh! You're Cross's kid. Whatever happened to that guy?'
"About half my life, at this point. I came here during my fourth winter, and this is my seventh." He hadn't been here the entire time, his quest to stop the shadow cult had taken him away for some months, and his recent excursion had taken him away for several more. Still, people knew him here, and had done for years now. These days his name was said with as many loathing voices as affectionate ones, but that was mostly the work of misinformation from the agents of Inferni, which his friends thankfully seemed immune to.
"It's probably best that your parents did. Raise you down south, I mean. Syemv later transformed into a group called Aremys, mostly the same people comprised it, some of whom were my friends. A little over a year ago, Inferni changed leadership, and their new brood-mother war queen hungered for territory. Under her command, Inferni struck at there neighbors in Aremys, the Inferni queen butchering a few puppies and driving the wolves off the territory. If you had been there, you might have been among the slain." A sad story, no doubt, and a wrong-doing that still burned in his gut. Some defended their actions as 'reclaiming territory', but the land had been given by the previous leader, not forcefully taken away. Old agreements had no validity to the queen, though, and apparently not to her son or her family or her family's friends, who defended what had occurred, some going so far as to call the coyotes the victims.
As it stood, the wolves weren't unified enough to do anything about it, and most had simply forgotten, put it out of their mind because it was easier to do so, forgotten the travesty of the clan's actions so that they might enjoy a few years of peace without an immediate shift of Inferni's aggression. Skoll didn't think that the way to deal with such people was to wait around until they got ambitious again, but his power--though significant for one man--ended at himself. His path had always been the one of personal improvement and potency, and he was not one to borrow the influence and power of others. Politics weren't his game, and so his feelings were inconsequential in a society like this one.
"A very dark chapter in Bleeding Souls history. I'm glad to see that someone escaped before all that." He was beginning to become curious about just who this person was. His parents had been in Syemv, and had left over a year ago...Valiant...he'd heard that name before. "Wait...what was your father's name?"
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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[html] “Yeah, that's what I've heard,” he said after Skoll reiterated the things that Phasma had told him. Syemv had gone through hell in a sense and now it was gone. Inferni had the house where he had been born in and were more than likely enjoying the goods that they had taken over. It was kind of sad, really, but perhaps for the better in the long run. He didn't know how things would have gone if they would have done such a thing while his mother and father were there. Would we even been there, right now?
“Hopefully the worst of the worst is over and done with. What's done is done and as much as I would like to stroll back into that house…” he murmured, trailing off and shaking the distance in the grasp that the past held on him. He wasn't much of a dweller, anyway. The tides in the conversation turned and with it a considerable revelation came about with them, because he hadn't expected to be asked about who his father was. “Why do you ask? His name is Cross,” and well, the pieces had a tendency to fall where they lay but he didn't pick them up and put them together—the idea that his family had crossed paths with this wandering bowman. [/html]
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Really sorry for the wait, I had to study for exams. Now that I've rocked them, I'm back in business!
"Huh," he looked the other wolf up and down before giving a slight nod. "Cross Valiant. I guess that makes sense, then." He looked back to Valentine's eyes. "I was a friend of your dad's, back when he lived in the Storm territory. I haven't seen hide nor hair of him in a long time, though, it didn't occur to me that he'd had kids." He wished that meant something, but as well as they'd gotten along, the two of them hadn't shared great adventures to tell over the fire or any such thing. They had fought and (miraculously) killed a bear once, but that story was a sad one more than anything.
"Not a lot to tell, I'm afraid, but it is a strange coincidence. He went to Syemv after our leader died in the drought, and I didn't really hear back from him after that point. I'm glad to hear that he and his family avoided all that fuss." For his part, he wished he had been there that day, he'd had friends in the pack that could have benefitted from his participation. He probably wouldn't have turned the tide himself, one warrior in a pack that doesn't want to fight can't do too much, but making Inferni pay for its ambitions would have at least created a sense of justice, for them to lose some of their warriors as blood price for the puppies they killed.
"So, I guess that since Aremys disbanded, you couldn't exactly return to the pack of your birth. I'll assume by your smell that you've been living in Jaded Shadows, what made you choose to live there?" Other than its second leader, who he knew nothing of save that a name and that she had obstinately taken the side of the wolf murderers rather than the perceived coyote ones, he had nothing against the pack, and was on friendly terms with Tayui. The question was more a matter of curiosity than anything.
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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Don't worry about the wait, I'm pretty patient when it comes to waiting for replies.
[html] Now really, what were the chances of running into an old friend of his father's? When it really boiled down to thinks, Valentine had met many more wolves who had been associated with his mother over his father and when it really came down to it, they were one in the same as far as friends went. Most of them were fair-weathered, come and go types. Given their travelling history though, it gave new meaning to birds of a feather flock together. He offered up a warm smile in place of the exchange of information, taking it all in for a better observation later.
“Well, when I came back here and saw that Inferni had taken the house, I went north of there. Ran into Jaded Shadows, more or less. My mother had ties back there so it was fairly easy getting to stay. The leader there, Fatin, recognised me right off of the bat.” Though how she did, he was somewhat uncertain. It was very possible that they had met when he was very young, because his memories of them were sketchy at best. “Anyway, like I said earlier, they weren't really happy about me wanting to come up here, but they did recommend places to go if I wanted. Jaded Shadows was just one of those places and Storm was the other.” And if it would have been on the off-chance he had been declined from both places, he had no problem striking it out on his own. He was more than old enough now, at least. [/html]
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Skoll nodded. He could see Cross wanting his son to share in the experience of Bleeding Souls. In some ways, it cushioned you, the territory was very forgiving to live on, food was plentiful and the weather was relatively tame, and yet in others it tested you ardently. In a place with so many different people in such close proximity, with politics and neighbors and differing viewpoints, it forced one to discover what they truly believed. Skoll had been forced to reign himself in, to settle and acclimate to a life that he should have been leading all this time anyway: a life of relative normalcy. His socialization had suffered, moving about from place to place with the ever present threat and promise of violence near at hand. Bleeding Souls had fed him better and more readily than almost any other place he'd been, and yet it had engaged him in a mental and moral battle where he had been forced to define exactly what he believed and why.
"Good to have family connections, eh? Having the right friends can get you a long way in this world, something I didn't learn for a long time, and still haven't really taken to heart, I guess. Still, I'm glad to hear that you have people who care for you and yours in Jaded Shadows. I'd live anywhere I had family if there were any of my blood in this land." Skoll didn't show any sign of increased interest at the name of the Shadows' leader. Phoenix had mentioned her name before, but he had always identified Gabriel as the bigger threat, even if the hybrid's influence had been less early on. He only barely registered who she was anyway; unlike his situation with Gabriel, he had never met her, nor combatted her verbally or physically. With the Lykoi-son, he'd done both.
"I've always liked Storm. I arrived after a long journey to find a lost family member, found that he'd lived in a pack called Storm for over a year before passing on. I joined the pack, and the rest is history." He rested back, "As for Jaded Shadows, I've known some good wolves from there, it certainly can't be a bad place. I haven't been very deep into its territory myself, but I imagine it's pretty, almost every pack land here about is, in its own way." He had seen Hell's Coast, as well as part of Clouded Tears, but he hadn't been very deep into either of them. Storm he knew like the back of his hand.
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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D'you mind if we start to wrap this up?
[html] Oh, it was very good to have family connections lingering about. Valentine was thankful, if not more than thankful that his parents had planted a few roots around or otherwise he almost felt as though his trip would have been in vain. To come back to his birthplace and have no one familiar around at all… well, it just wouldn't have been very enjoyable. But even at that, he assumed he would have surely adapted. “Jaded Shadows is quite a beautiful place, for a squat little mountain. There's vantage points that see out to the ocean, rolling forests and streams to always be found. It blends in well with its surroundings, that's for sure.” Part of him wondered what the budding spring would be like in a place like that. “But to be quite honest, aside from the crumbling sprawl of what belonged to the humans, there really are not very many places where that don't have some sort of beauty.” [/html]
Hmm...maybe we should fade to black and assume they talked for a little while longer than then parted ways?
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