[aw] sing to the death rattle
#1
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(379)
Someone to discuss/prepare for attacks with Dra? Something like that, anyway. WHATEVER ACTUALLY IDK THIS CHARACTER AT ALL YET DEAR GOD I'M AWKWARD ._.



Draugr is by me!

The sprawling plains and marshes of Drifter Bay were beginning to bloom. Everywhere, tiny purple and yellow and white flowers sprung up from the ground. They were miniature precursors to spring's full blossom. Draugr had not yet experienced this season, but she knew it well enough: spring was the time of rebirth, when the whole earth shed its winter-dulled coat and returned to its splendor. She could remember only the fire-colors and smoke-smells of autumn, the cold and snow and faint desperation of winter, and was eager to experience this new season.

Despite her rank, Draugr appeared very much an adult: at nearly eight months, she was almost fully grown. Draugr was tall, not as tall as her mother and built thinner, but Salsola was a pack of coyotes and hybrids, too: she towered over some. Her mind seemed to work more as an adult's, as well. Her youngest months were spent with her mother alone, and playtime was sparse in those days. Survival was more important than playing about, and this instinct had settled deep within Dra. Perhaps it was time to move to the adult ranks. This consideration weighed heavily on the young wolfdog's shoulders lately -- she was approaching the time when her advancement was becoming necessity.

It was for these reasons she remained close to her pack's borders, never straying more than a hundred feet from the stone wall that now made her pack's northernmost boundary. She did not understand why they had expanded their claim, but it was not her place to ask these questions. Maybe mama Siv knows, she thought, settling down to the earth. The old grasses, what had survived of winter, smelled of must and rot, but they were giving their nutrients and the last of themselves over to feed the next generation, already sprouting up vividly green amongst the yellow of last year's growth.

Some might have called it scouting, others would refer to it as lazing. Dra simply watched -- her pale eyes regarded the distant mountains and the line of the pine forests to the north, watching closely for any signs of movement. The attackers might return at any moment, and she would run and raise the call if they did.

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#2
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Word Count → 366 /rudely barges in

With the harsh temperatures and snowstorms of winter gone, she could finally return to a wardrobe that was consistently more natural to her. The makeshift winter cloak she'd fashioned together now lay in a heap, and would for some time, until it was needed again. Earlier in the day she'd passed by her mother's weir to check on its progress, and found it to be a hub of activity with slaves hard at work. If Eris had noticed her, Artemisia was unaware. Her dark mother cared very little these days where her wanderings took her, given that she was now taller than her predecessor and more than capable of defending herself with brute strength, if needed.


Her visit to Ichika no Ho-en had yielded some interesting fruit. Soon enough she would pluck up the courage to visit Freetown and extract her Cueponi gift from within its heart. Until then, she attempted to make herself useful by doing what she did best. Watching, listening, looking for any sign of danger. On this day, she found another of Salsola's younger beneficiaries doing quite the same, or so she thought. Draugr was still enough to be a statue, she thought, and wondered for a moment of she had in fact been turned to stone. It seemed unlikely, but her superstitious mother had managed to instill some fear in her about the supernatural.


After a moment of running her long fingers through short, dark hair, Arte finally huffed and finished her approach, uncaring whether she was noticed or not. Draugr was no enemy of hers. Buon giorno; hello, Came her easy drawl, though it was warmer than she'd intended and perhaps a bit kinder than the relative stranger deserved. Despite their closeness in age, it was with Ataxia that the pretty, strangely colored girl had spent the most time with out of the litter of three. Despite her correct use of the still strange Italian term, she failed to smile. It was out of necessity that she used the strange words. Currently they held very little meaning to her. Using them provided practice, though, and if she was to become proficient in the language of her King, it was essential.

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#3
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(424) Since we dateplayed I'mma ignore attackers stuff from previous post without editing it because fuck continuity, that's why. c;



Draugr is by me!

Pale lavender eyes appraised the expanse of Drifter Bay. It was pretty and smelled of spring, but Draugr was glad Salsola's claim stopped where it did. She had yet to fully and thoroughly explore these new parts of the territory, but what she had seen so far was pretty: low-slung cottages, slowly falling to ruin beside a pair of sprawling farmhouses, their sturdy brick structure a testament against the ravages of time. To be sure, there was rot and rust and mold within them, but at least they were structurally intact, rather unlike the half-collapsed cottages Draugr had seen otherwise.

The dark-hued girl cared only for the expansion because it had expanded the areas in which she felt safe and permitted to do as she liked. Draugr had not ventured from Salsola since she had made it her home along with mama Siv; even when her mother journeyed beyond the borders of the pack, Draugr remained behind. It was not as if the outside world frightened her: she had come from the outside world, and had, in fact, come into the outside world from her mother's womb. Salsola was more of a priority, however. It was a new system for her to figure out, with strange customs and stranger canines within. She did not understand her own pack.

This was not as harrowing to the youth as it might have sounded. She was confident in her ability to crack open the pack and learn its ways, but doing so required an adult's mind. She was almost an adult -- wasn't she? She had come to understand more and more about her pack as she aged, of course, but she still felt as if she was missing that final piece of understanding. It was frustrating, but in a way that was almost pleasurable. Like a puzzle, she murmured quietly, deep in thought.

The dark youth had not heard the approach of her packmate, and was rather startled by it -- she had been peering toward the marshes, expecting an approach from this direction, if any. Though she flinced visibly, her lavender eyes were quick to perceive Artemisia, and she offered an apologetic smile to the woman, dipping her head in further apology. Though they were the same rank, Draugr felt she ought to show respect to Artemisia by virtue of her birth: she was daughter of a leader, while Draugr's mother was only Family.

Hello, Artemisia, the dark youth said, smiling. I'm sorry, I was startled, she explained.

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#4
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Word Count → 387 This sucks, sorry.

Virtue of birth was something the dark-furred youngster would have scoffed at. She thought it was unfair that, just because of her blood, she was immediately something of substance, of worth. The lime-eyed Auxiliary was lucky so far that none of her children had lapsed into laziness because of this. Harrow was introverted and artistic, but not altogether useless, and Ataxia was cutting with her words. Basilaris... She avoided the boy. His pure white fur brought out pangs of anxiety, for reasons she didn't understand. Though not directly spiritual, she could at times be very superstitious.

Thus far Artemisia had shown no real promise herself—general size and strength aside—until, that is, the King had taken her on as his scholarly student. Now, she was flourishing under his tutelage. Absorbing the foreign words in not only their spoken form, but also the way they were written and read. Geography was less interesting to her, but equally important. She had scrawled an accurate depiction of the surrounding territories from memory, her greatest achievement thus far. She suspected it was mostly due to Sirius' interest in how much her memory could retain, and she hadn't disappointed him there.

Draugr was not alone in her befuddlement at how the seaside pack worked. Already, Arte was beginning to question it herself. The visit to Ichika had prompted this in a most unkind fashion. Kiara had been entirely welcoming and warm to her, despite not knowing her, and such consideration had thrown the child. Until then it hadn't occurred to her that not all the neighboring packs were as hostile as Salsola. Eying the slightly younger woman (they were separated by less than a month, after all), the earth shaded took a passive stance. Her flinch hardly went unnoticed, but she wouldn't apologize for her own actions. Don't do that, we're equals, right? It was a suggestion at best, and left open for disagreement no matter how much she would protest. Her approach had been harmless, she meant the dark woman no harm. You're safe, She insisted, gesturing with empty hands toward her equal as if to show she had nothing that might maim, but understood if it was little help. Her posture in of itself was enough to strike concern into the hearts of some. What're you doing out here?

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#5
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Draugr is by me!

Draugr considered her companion's words, bright lavender eyes clouding with doubt. She thought of herself and Ataxia as equals -- they were playmates and acted as children (well, Salsolian children) ought to act. Artemisia, however, was different -- different in a subtle way, a way Draugr could not quite put into proper thoughts or words. It was nothing the dark-furred Bambino had done, nor was it anything Dra felt deeply and strongly about.

She smiled again, nonetheless, lavender eyes drifting toward to the grass. Just thinking. You're right, I think, she said, cautiously. It's just... she started, frowning, and shook her head. I can't remember whether I am a child or an adult sometimes, I think. The same with everyone else, the hybrid said, frowning. She supposed that was right -- was it just an effect of the transitory period, of becoming an adult. Do you feel like that? she inquired, rather directly. She couldn't help herself -- the young wolfdog was especially curious to find if her age-mate felt this way.

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