we last because we're colorful

POSTED: Thu Apr 14, 2011 9:25 pm

+3 ::omg all of my threads are for alaine. Backdated to April 9th, mid-afternoon

He had left his father and Alaine alone the first day, recognizing she would need time to examine him and for the pair to sort out whatever issues her presence in the clan would bring forth. Ezekiel had resumed his duties after a short rest and covered the new borders quickly, finding little to be ill at ease about. It seemed now that they had given up a section of the northern area a passage had been made for wolves, and they took that rather than deal with the coyotes. This pleased the Triarii, but at the same point meant he would have little fighting to do outside of sparring matches.

Ibsen and Zola had been thrilled at his return, and wheeled about as he had gone on patrol. They had begun speaking more high-speech, mimicking Ezekiel’s words as best they could. Zola was capable of having conversations in the broken tongue, while Ibsen would break in with a scathing comment now and again at something said. They were an interesting pair, and Zeke was glad for their company, even if they bickered often. This often devolved into fighting, which the warrior would break up with a snarl if it got out of hand.

Having finished the patrol north, he began riding south with the birds in tow. He wanted to see Alaine and ensure her safety, worried what Talitha might think of the collie’s presence. Nana was still grazing contently in the yard when they arrived, and she pranced over to the troupe like a filly. Zeke, always amused by her antics, dismounted fluidly and was greeted with a nudge to the chest. While he pet the mare’s face, the ravens settled on Viggo’s back. The horse was now used to them, and began to graze himself while the duo mocked Ezekiel’s romance with the mare, to which he responded in a bird-like fashion of low-speech, offering a single-handed gesture of his own to show his irritation with the pair.

POSTED: Fri Apr 15, 2011 12:52 am

wordcount :: 3+

When morning broke on her second day in the land of the murderous coyotes, Alaine thanked Morrigan for her life and her soul, and went about her self-placed duties. It was extreme to think of herself as dwelling in such a hostile place, but the Aquila had promised her protection, and thus far the chaotic band he called a clan had abided by this. The woman she loathed to see, Talitha, had not come - But nor had any others, apart from the Infernian healer himself. An interesting young man, somewhat blunt and unemotional, but wise nonetheless. She could find no flaws in the methods he had used to care for Gabriel, but had insisted on taking over his duties for the wounded King while here so that he might attend the needs of the rest of the clan.

She had not left the building since arriving, but the sound of a deliriously happy knickering drew her attention to the presence of Ezekiel and Viggo. Nana proved to be a good watchdog for the young man, her strange motherly adoration of him manifesting itself in a series of sounds that Alaine could now recognize to be the strange speech she shared with the hybrid prince. Feeling somewhat nostalgic, she leaned on a pillar on the porch and watched her pupil for a moment in silence - He was, as yet, unaware of her presence, enveloped in interactions with the two horses and a pair of blackbirds she recognized to be ravens. A thoughtful frown colored her exotic features, one brow high in curiosity. He could speak to the ravens, also? How peculiar…

"Ezekiel!" She finally called out in greeting, lyrical tone expressing its happiness to see him. "Your father is resting," through no will of his own, of course, "How do you fare?"

POSTED: Fri Apr 15, 2011 11:24 pm


It was a peculiar way of communicating, but Ezekiel had adopted it readily. He so often spoke without words, especially in combat; his body could speak for him far better than any words might. This was part of how he spoke to the horses, using touch and their own noises to form a vocabulary. The birds were easier, being able to mimic his own sounds and pick up on them quickly. Yet the brothers were often too busy bickering to practice, so they were nowhere as fluent as their deceased father had been.

A woman’s voice called from behind him and the warrior turned, earning a chest full of Nana-face in the process. He coughed at the force of the sudden expelled air, shoved the mare’s broad face aside, and quickly trotted over towards Alaine while her mare unhappily returned to grazing. “Oh, I was better before that nag of yours slammed her face into me,” he joked, reaching up to the porch railing with one hand. It did not take much force to pull himself up, though the old wood groaned under his weight. Ezekiel climbed over and sat on the railing, which was strong enough to support him for the time being. “He giving you trouble?” The boy asked of his father, turning slightly as the ravens swooped up behind him and landed nearby, curious to see the odd foreign woman.

POSTED: Sat Apr 16, 2011 3:37 am

wordcount :: 3+

A delighted burst of laughter, such a strange and wondrous sound, spilled from her at the antics of the thickly-built mare. As poor Ezekiel spluttered to pull air back into his affronted lungs, the Apothecary chuckled to herself, emerald eyes sparkling with amusement. Her rotund steed certainly never shied away from her physical adoration for the male. It was almost as though she had claimed him as a part of her brood. Viggo seemed nonplussed by his mother's antics, and continued to graze.

When the tawny and golden male finally managed to come over to her, Alaine shifted her position slightly, resting her weight on one leanly-muscled leg and recrossing her arms. His words brought another smile to her weary face, showing the youthful beauty that had once been the colliewoman's strongest attribute. "Yes well, it is hardly a fault of mine who my mare has the misfortune to romance," The lyrical words were accompanied by a wink, seemingly so out-of-character for the meek pagan woman.

Appraising eyes watched as her pupil vaulted the wooden railing, and sat himself comfortably atop the worn wood. She was comfortable in his presence, continually aware that she had made the right choice in picking him. Ezekiel was important, and she sensed within him a certain degree of loyalty that pleased her, just as it pleased her that he had sought her out after his father's injury. Gabriel had been irritable for a time, but it seemed that for now the Warrior-King had relented to her bossiness in the area of his health, and it was for the best.

The youth questioned her lightly, and the woman nodded, her auburn curls bouncing to frame pixie face in the sunlight. "Of course, as much as he possibly can. It frustrates him no end, being trapped in here," There was a slight shadow to her eyes - Neither father or son seemed to acknowledge the irreversible problems his shoulder injury would provide. While the skin healed well, the muscle beneath would always be somewhat damaged, she had concluded after observation.

"But I know how to deal with your father," A gentle jest to return the humor to her wizened emerald eyes. "The question is, pupil, what can I do for you?"

POSTED: Sun Apr 17, 2011 3:46 am

Oblivious to her deeper thoughts, the bronze-tinted male smiled broadly at her display. She had begun to loosen up around him, a contrast to the rather stern figure he had met originally. This pleased him. He disliked severe women, and did not think it suited the rather soft figured collie. Still, he respected her when she so demanded such a thing. For now though, he was not taking lessons but instead relaxing from the duties he had neglected retrieving her.

His eyes betrayed the worry that came with talk of his father’s injury, for Ezekiel likewise recognized that something was wrong with the wound. While his ribs had head cleanly from their break, what had occurred to Gabriel was far worse than being attacked by a demon. This lasted only momentarily, for he shrugged and smiled toothily at her question. “Oh, I don’t need anything. Maybe a break from these two,” he added crossly, glaring at the ravens. They fluffed up, as if offended by the comment, and began rattling off in their own tongue. The coyote rolled his eyes at this, responding in an equally sharp caw, hands moving in a flurry of motion to speak in gestures all their own.

POSTED: Sun Apr 17, 2011 4:16 am

wordcount :: 3+

She unknowingly mirrored his relief at being able to relax about the younger male. It was not often that Alaine could reveal herself from beneath the Apothecary's mask, and few had made it to the point in her psychological chambers where she did so with a sense of relish. It surprised the woman how heavy the mask was; for all those years that she had worn it seamlessly, the heaviness had been toted without thought.

Still a mistrusting creature at heart, it was not an easy feat to penetrate the colliewoman's outer layers. Gabriel's son had done so with efficient ease, and although that should have made her wary, Alaine could not conjure the dreary emotion. It was not his fake smiles or slick charm - Keen emerald eyes had seen those for what they were, an additional layer of protection, weaponry and defense. When he assumed the role as her pupil, and she his mentor, the woman displayed a direct dislike of his plastic grins, and had on more than one occasion had irritably told him to wipe the fake happiness off of his face. It was a ploy that would work well for him on many others, but when she required his full attentions, she received them.

As such, the grin the male gave her was taken as genuine, and she reflected with with her own pretty smile. The offhand comment and gesture to his feathers companions made her forest eyes sharpen with curiosity - The display that followed provoked a strange light to dwell within them. "Badb," She murmured softly, the smile growing and the strange light enveloping emeralds, "Labhraíonn sé leis na sciatháin dorcha," The old words flowed from her fluidly, a language so lyrical it sounded like music, "Agus a thugann siad dó a n-éirim agus a spiorad!" Her voice lifted in excitement, strange memories running as deep water beneath her consciousness. She had been remembering the old ways a lot recently, and with them came the strange feelings of foreboding within her.

Unaware that she had done so, Alaine sheepishly released the hold she had on the young man's knee. In doing so, the strange attitude that had come over her withdrew, and the woman laughed blankly, her gaze still pinned on the feathered creatures. "I didn't know you could speak to them, too," She said, by way of an explanation, as if it all suddenly made sense.

POSTED: Mon Apr 18, 2011 2:12 pm


It was lucky for him that this new mentor was as sharp-witted as the others. The boy Ezekiel had once been had change somewhere out in the wilderness, after his ribs had been broken and his face scarred, after his sister had fled from the shadows that chased her still. He smiled a reptilian thing (though he was nowhere near as cold as his cousin in this respect) but it was a smile that hid so much. Responsibility, built out of ghosts whose heredity piled on his broad shoulders, had brought so much depth to an otherwise light-hearted child. It showed in his eyes, which were old in a still young form.

Of course, he was not so wounded as to forget his age, and he found great joy in the company he kept. This was a limited bunch though, consisting mostly of beasts who were separate from the world of canines. Alaine was an exception. Even if she often scolded him, and even if her children disturbed him, the coyote enjoyed her company immensely. Yet the motion she took was so sudden and so surprising that his body betrayed him; hackles rose along his spine, puffing his tail out to a brush-bottle. Instinctively, he tensed. His face turned owlish and wide-eyed—as soon as he realized this, he forced it to change. Her hand left him.

Nervously, the coyote adjusted on the railing. “I can talk to most animals,” he explained, ears back slightly. “It’s easier with these two because I’ve raised them. That one is Ibsen,” he motioned to the larger of the pair. “And his brother, Zola. We lost their father in the rockslide,” Ezekiel added forlornly, though he no longer grieved for the raven. The wilderness had taught him to be cruel, and he knew Marlowe would not want him to weep. After all, he had a much more important task at hand.

POSTED: Tue Apr 26, 2011 9:13 am

wordcount :: 3+

Reasonably, the young man seemed startled and a little shaken by her strange outburst. For once, the slender healer woman was too immersed in her own curiosity and nostalgia to care. Emerald eyes remained keenly upon him, darting as he spoke to rest on the dark feathered creatures sitting balefully out of reach.

She peered at them curiously now, with rounded eyes that seemed similar to her son's, but for the obvious animation and life within them. Alaine was not trapped within her own mind, as Elijah was, and her eyes showed world-weary portals to a likewise weathered soul. However, the birds brought out some sort of regression from the colliewoman - In her interest, the shadows seemed to recede, and she looked younger again. Floppy ears lifted from the tumble of auburn curls that adorned her crown, as she gazed thoughtfully at Zeke's avian companions.

"How... Curious," Lyrical accent seemed vague, "Can they understand me? What I am saying right now?" She made a useless gesture of emphasis with one hand, eager to hear his answer. The Dubh had been an old family, as old as the Winters, and they had kept ravens as companions. Badb, RavenKing. Would these birds know your name? Certainly not. But the memories return... Sharp gaze returned to her pupil, she sat still precariously perched on the railing, who had been watching her as though she had sprouted a second head. His latter statement had brought about a more solemn facade, and she checked herself roughly, pulling a suitable expression of sympathy about Fae-like features. "It is a shame. Death comes for all creatures. Féachann Lugh aon spiorad."

Unable to refrain, her eyes drifted to the birds again. "Ibsen... And Zola," Pupils shifted from one to the other, and the gentle smile returned to her maw again.

POSTED: Tue Apr 26, 2011 2:31 pm

It was clear that the idea of that it was not Ezekiel’s ability to speak to animals, but to speak to these birds in particular, that so interested her. Ezekiel’s ears went high again, oversized-coyote things. Hybrid as he was, it was only his mother’s blood that truly appeared in his sharp frame. Gabriel had given him weight and size; he was much larger than average coyotes, save those few oddities who outweighed him. The young man was the sum of his wholes, and subtly sought to eradicate the wolf from his family.

The ravens tilted their heads to and fro, listening and understanding only the words they recognized. Her foreign language was lost on them, as it was lost on Ezekiel, and he smiled slightly at the reassurance. Yes, death always came. Savage and cruel as the world was, that was the singular certainty. No one lived forever. “Oh yes,” he explained, looking to the birds. “Isn’t that right, you two?”

As if realizing they had been caught, the pair fluffed their feathers and hopped to and fro. It was Ibsen who spoke first, his broken voice rough as ravens always were. You speak different, he said to the collie, tilting his head to better look at her with one eye. Yes, but it is nice, Zola seconded, his voice slightly higher than his larger kin.

POSTED: Thu Apr 28, 2011 6:06 am

wordcount :: 3+

Open-minded though she was, Alaine still viewed the birds as little more than pets to her large-eared pupil. They were not Luperci, and although they were close to her gods, surely they were capable of only as much reasoning as the smartest prey. Birds had an intelligent look about them - Something about their beady eyes, that made her think of Elvira - but when their beaks opened and out flowed words, the woman was stunned. "... Oh!" The gentle exclamation of surprise was followed by an instinctual stiffening of her frame, poised with such an intense rush of shock and curiosity that she was spellbound and silent. Emerald eyes widened impossibly larger, pupils darting between the two birds who had spoken - Yes, spoken. Words! Real ones, of the language not of her heart but of her mind. For a moment, her sense of rationality tried to label the event as a strange party trick; Perhaps Zeke had taught them to mimic such sounds, in response to a certain question. But the harder she looked, the more intelligence she saw in avian eyes. Besides, her pupil would not lie to her - He was not the sort to find amusement in such deception.

As if for affirmation, the woman's gaze turned then to the straw-hued young man, before darting back to the birds. "Well, I... Well!" He had truly shocked her, a thing impressively difficult to do these days, and something his father had not succeeded in doing for a long time now.

Swallowing hastily, Alaine sought to revive her absent manners. "Thank you... Zola?" She was having a conversation with a bird. The urge to laugh bubbled in her throat, but was mercifully contained. Perhaps they had thought her rude for speaking about them so insolently - But she was, after all, a Luperci, and thus in some way superior to the feathered friends of Ezekiel de le Poer. "How much do they know?" She asked of him softly. The bird's glossy feathers reminded her of Gabriel, and she wished they would come closer so that she might observe them better.

POSTED: Thu Apr 28, 2011 9:50 pm


Of course it might seem odd that birds could speak—Ezekiel had, however, been introduced to this concept young. Marlowe had come with the clan from across the mountains, and Marlowe had dominated the native beasts with his superior intellect. He had been truly remarkable, perhaps even a genius by the level of intelligence he commanded. The warrior hoped that his sons would show such promise, and they had begun to do so thanks to his teachings.

Both birds made cawing laughter at the woman’s reaction. They found the behavior of these furry things quite entertaining, to the point that they had learned to imitate it around Ezekiel. He shot them a dirty look, believing they were being cruel, but the birds made subtle signs that this was not the case. Alaine’s next question was spoken to him, and the Triarii thought for a moment before answering. “They’re still young,” he explained, making motions with his hands so the birds would understand as well. While they knew what his words meant, it still helped them to see the low-speech in the way Ezekiel performed it. “They’re capable of holding conversation. Their father could read, and they’re starting to learn as well. Both of them can speak, but they pretend not to because it amuses them.” His tone shifted as he spared the birds a glance, as if this irritated him.

Your kind are…entertaining, Ibsen said, pausing to find the right word. Very expressive things, you are. Curious, the smaller brother hopped down from his perch and took several bobbing steps towards the collie woman. She looks so different, too. What would you call her? Not wolf, he asked, tilting his head to eye the woman. He had seen wolves before, and knew what they looked like, but she was something very different.

POSTED: Tue May 03, 2011 4:04 am

wordcount :: 3+

The sound of raucous avian laughter made her jump slightly. Emerald eyes that had lingered on her pupil flitted back to the ebony birds, watching them suspiciously a moment. This was not the first time she had seen carrion, of course - The birds were a hunter's friend, finding wounded or ill animals and circling, circling the heavens. They were so easily mistaken for an omen of death, but Alaine knew them to be canny creatures. The old stories said that they had worked as partners with those of the Badb clan, but as with most fairytales, Alaine had long since discarded these stories as fantastical tales of an intelligence that did not exist.

But here, again, she had been proven wrong. Ezekiel's answer to her question was carefully considered, although her eyes did not deviate from the feathered fiends again. In the corner of her eye she could see him, speaking the two languages intertwined as he sometimes did when she was riding Nana, or he Viggo. "They can read?" She interrupted his flow of words, incredulous. Reading was an incredibly difficult task, one she had little confidence in, and it was somewhat alarming to think that these two creatures could excel above her in it.

Zeke's later words faded slightly, and she was again wary as the larger bird spoke, his voice raspy and similar to the caws most often heard from such a beak. Some of the shock had faded now, and a slight frown sharpened the woman's features. It was not of disapproval, merely of thought; There were plenty of mental rules she now had to re-evaluate in light of this newest recognition. Talking ravens. Dea help me! The smaller brother hopped nearer to her, and not wanting to discourage the motion, Alaine became very still. Her emerald eyes took in his glossy feathers, the sharp intelligence of his beady eyes. The bird spoke to Ezekiel, but Alaine replied before her pupil had the chance. "Dog," She said steadily, firmly, assertively. That branding had once been seen as inferior to the wolfs and coyotes of this land, but she was proud of it now, and would not have the avian creatures think otherwise. "I am what is known as a dog, Zola. My name is Alaine, and I am the teacher of your… Your friend, Ezekiel." She did not know how to deem the relationship that her pupil had with the creatures, and emerald gaze slid to him now for affirmation.

POSTED: Sun May 08, 2011 3:27 pm


With their gossamer feathers and too-intelligent eyes, the ravens were odd things in comparison to coyotes and dogs. They walked with bobbing, jerky steps, and tilted their heads in strange ways to better view the world. Ezekiel had become used to such things. He was used to many intelligent animals, like the selective birds, and found their company welcoming. Vicious beasts, like the badger he had told his sister about and the wolverine on his back, they spoke too. The warrior had little patience for their gruff voices and often aggressive temperaments, though, so he stuck with the birds.

He only nodded at her outburst, as the often shy birds (well, shy enough) had taken the lead in the conversation. The coyote watched them with his wolfish eyes, observing much in the way any guardian might. Alaine gave her breed a name, which pleased the young man who had spent much time around her kind, and nodded once more at her title. While he had all but raised the boys, Ezekiel was not so presumptuous as to call himself their father. Marlowe had been a dear friend, and he missed him sorely.

Zola, still lower than the woman who called herself dog, bobbed his head as he tilted it this way and that to take her in. With pale fur that looked much softer than the coyote’s coat, he desired to touch it immensely. “He is our teacher as well,” the bird said slowly, using his slowly-growing grasp of high-speech as fluently as possible. “You called him another name,” Zola went on, looking up to the woman. “And used other words. I find that…” He paused, looked to Ezekiel and made a harsh sound. The coyote motioned with his hands, speaking as he did so. “Interesting. He finds your other language interesting.”

POSTED: Tue May 17, 2011 2:35 pm

wordcount :: 3+

She could sense Zeke watching on, and knew her pupil to be very attached to these strange feathered creatures that had proven themselves capable of far-reached intellect. Her mind bloomed to all of the strange possibilities this odd interaction had provided, and never again would the Winter's woman so easy brush off the beady stare of one of the black-winged kin.

The one titled Zola seemed far more inquisitive into this new canis subspecies than his brother, who remained a baleful lurch far from reach. Alaine's shamrock green gaze darted swiftly between the three perched creatures; The two birds and the wary coyote hybrid, who she had startled with as much suddenness as this newest avian revelation had startled her. This was a good thing - Best to keep Zeke on his toes around his mentor. She didn't want his intelligent mind to ever become bored in her presence.

The Raven, Zola, spoke again - The harsh, croaky voice that creaked around the high-speech words, rusty but legible. Fascinated beyond description, the collie woman watched him with bright eyes, her lean and neatly curved body tensed in interest. The bird revealed Zeke to be their teacher, and by this, Alaine assumed that her talented student had been the one to teach them the language of their canine superiors. Floppy ears perked, and swollen pupils lifted to the tan and cream male, sweetened by a quick and excited grin. But Zola had not finished speaking yet, and she listened to the rest of the corvus' words intently, deciphering the strange accent within her own mind.

It pleased her, strangely enough, to think that the bird was interested in her - Interested in the language of her heart. Thanking Ezekiel for his role as translator with another pretty smile, she replied, consciously slowing her words to make the Celtic accented tone more easily understood. "I called him Badb. It was silly of me, but he reminded me of a King I was told about as a, erm... A hatchling? Anyway, the King was said to have a strong connection to your ancestors, and mine." Lyrical tone swelled forth easily, but not wanting to babble, she trailed off. It had been a long time since Alaine had thought of the stories of her childhood, and she was both relieved and somewhat alarmed to know that they lingered still, so close on her tongue to being voiced.

OOC Ending
Ibsen proceeds to be a dick in regards to Alaine's story, which prompts her to explain a little more about it. Zola, finding this interesting, continues to ask her about it. His brother makes several snide comments that Ezekiel makes faces at, but seeing Zola's interest in Alaine the coyote suggests that he go with her to learn more. The raven agrees to do so, though Ibsen insists he returns often to tell him all about it.

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