it will cut the life right from you.

POSTED: Thu May 20, 2010 8:26 pm

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<div style='text-align:justify;margin:10px;font-family:Verdana;font-size:9px;'> <font color=#27220E> <i>ZOMGRAVYNISAGAYFACE.</i> <p>

It wasn't until Conor's soft retreating steps echoed behind him that Weilund realized that perhaps he was incapable of doing this alone. But as nice as Conor truly seemed to be, Eilu had no desire to take up any more of the alpha's time. Conor had said that the two of them would talk later, and Weilund would be content with that. <br>
But as he moved forward slowly with his eyes glued to the ground, the male wondered for the millionth time whether or not he was making a mistake. It was true that whichever family Kol had left behind deserved to know the fate of Elliot, he couldn't deny that. <p>
But since when was it his job to deliver such news? Elliot's death had been agony for Weilund to endure and now he had to go through it over and over again each time he explained it all to another. To see the look that came over their faces, an exact copy of the one that had adorned Weilund's face for days...even weeks. How was this moving on? He wasn't moving anywhere! Instead he was wallowing in the hate and fear, the anger and the sadness all mixed together. Why couldn't any one else have been sent out for this job? Why him? <i>Because you were the last with him. </i> The pack's medic had explained, choosing his words carefully so not to hurt the yearling before him. Weilund <i>had</i> been the last to see Elliot alive because he had been the medic working to save his life. It hadn't worked. And he was all his fault. <p>
He shook these thoughts from his head, wishing his could banish them away forever. But he knew better. They'd be back to entertain him as soon as his mind wasn't occupied by something else. Right now it was the tree house that stood before him. For a few minutes, Weilund couldn't speak. Here it was. Elliot's. There was no doubt about it, his craftsmanship was apparent in every piece of wood. His brother's work had always impressed Weilund on certain level, a kind of level he worked to achieve in everything he made. The tree house was older, he could tell – and it needed a few fixes here and there. The roof, especially. But other than that it was perfect. His heart throbbed painfully as he looked the entire thing over, the male's breathing turning a little harsh. He wasn't capable of speaking just yet so he let the loud <i>clank!</i> of his bag hitting the ground declare his presence.
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POSTED: Fri May 21, 2010 2:18 pm

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<i>OOC: <33333333</i><br><br>

The treehouse stood empty. Bris had left it earlier that morning, setting out before the light of dawn to clear her head a bit. She still hadn't given Conor an answer to his offer, and the decision was driving her crazy. She'd helped her sister to maintain the cozy little treehouse that Elliot had made, and leaving it behind was like leaving a piece of her heart. Who would fix the cracks, the leaks that had popped up now and again in the roof? Bris had been no carpenter, but she'd helped Kol to make emergency fixes, and after she'd died she'd done her best to keep the structure liveable. It was her home, but it was no place to raise a puppy.<br><br>

In light of Gideon's arrival, Bris had felt it her responsibility to care for the foundling. Unfortunately, he was far too young to understand the workings of the treehouse, and the Stormbringer had terrible visions of his tiny form suddenly rolling the wrong way out of its heights. Conor's house in Wolfville was the perfect place for the charcoal pup, especially since Conor and Vark were caring for four other pups beside him, but was it the right place for her? What would happen to the treehouse with no one to care for it on a daily basis? Sure Bris would come to check on it and maybe even spend a night or two at a time, but would it be enough?<br><br>

To say she was put off by the fact that she'd returned to her home only to find a strange male oogling it would be an understatement. Bris had left her trinket-filled satchel behind in the treehouse, along with all of her jewel making supplies and artifacts, and she was only glad she'd managed to come back before the stranger had attempted to lower the ladder and make himself at home. Narrowing her mismatched eyes, the woman crossed her bandaged arms across her equally bandaged chest and cleared her throat to make her heretofore unnoticed presence known. <font color=#bcbcbc>"Excuse me? Can I help with something?"</font> Bris' voice was calm, but there was an overtone of annoyance to her words. Being upwind from the stranger, she'd failed to catch the recent scent of Conor that clung to the male's fur and drifted over the area, indicating that he'd been the one to lead the unknown brute to her home. Had she realized that fact from the beginning, her attitude toward the stranger would have been decidedly different.
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Table by Kiri/Jenny!!
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POSTED: Fri May 21, 2010 6:06 pm

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<div style='text-align:justify;margin:10px;font-family:Verdana;font-size:9px;'> <font color=#27220E> <i><4444444444</i><p>

No sounds of life emanated from the tree house that stood before him. It was empty, a fitting sort of state affairs for the entire situation. Devoid of life for now yes, but not unoccupied. Conor had informed him that Kol's sister, Bris was residing there now. At the time, this news had made Weilund happy. A link to everything he had lost. It was difficult to think of the former state of his life as the 'past.' It was all supposed to be <i>current</i>, not over. This right here – him standing forlornly with a look of loss plastered to his face: it wasn't supposed to be happening. It should have just been him arriving after a long and tiring journey, one undertaken simply due to the desire of seeing a few family members. Instead he was standing here with a pack of all his worldly possessions – hand me downs from his big brother and not because he grew out of them but because he couldn't use them anymore. The dead did not build things. They only tore things down, like lives and hearts. <p>
He wished that Conor was still here. The thoughtful alpha had left several minutes before, sensing that the yearling might wish for a few moments alone. At the time, it seemed like a good idea. Now? Now he desperately needed someone to lean on and there was nothing, no one. <br>
Weilund took an uncertain step forward, shoving the bag to the side while he eyes never left the slightly tattered roof. He studied the structure with a gaze that never wavered, his desire to climb up and into the dwelling paramount. It didn't matter that he didn't own the place (not unless the tree house was passed down to him, like Elliot's tools and Eilu doubted it) or the fact that according to Conor someone was currently living in the place. All the mattered was that this place used to be under the care of the one other he loved best in the world and right now it was in need to repair. He couldn't do a lot to remedy his entire situation – he couldn't raise the dead, he couldn't turn back time in order to kill that one Shadowrunner, or make it so that Liesel had been the one caring for Eli, not him. He couldn't do any of those things. But Weilund <i>could</i> do just one thing at this time: fix that damn roof that was out of place. It wouldn't be big in the grand scheme of things, but at least it would be able to stop rain from falling on everyone's head. Make things look a little brighter. <p>
His decision made, Weilund moved back to where he had left the abandoned the big bag. He knew he had to shift before he could o do anything, but for a moment the massive wolf was frozen, eyes fixed on the dwelling before him. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't shake the deep sense of sadness the place brought about in him. Elliot had made this place with his own two paws. He had planned it all out, measuring <i>more</i> than twice before cutting because that was his way. He would have spent several days scouting out the perfect area, selecting the best trees. He would have made sure that each tree was in great shape, up to the job of supporting such weight. And under <i>no</i> circumstances would Elliot have chosen a tree that would die because of his creations. He was scrupulous like that, something Weilund admired deeply about his brother. <p>
And after all that planning, all the hours his big brother spent honing and perfecting his creation he would be left with an amazing achievement. The house was huge, but it was perfect for two. It was perfect for the life he and Kol had been making, planning. And now what? All for nothing. It was as empty as Weilund felt now.
He was too distracted to gather the concentration it would take for him to shift. So for the moment he merely stood there, just as he had been doing for the last little while and studied the house of broken features. It appeared as though he was completely preoccupied, like the entire world aside from himself and the tree house did not exist. But when Bris spoke, appearing as if from nowhere, Weilund showed no signs of being startled. His gaze never wavered and he did not acknowledge his sister of his brother's mate. Instead he spoke aloud, as though he was speaking to himself or perhaps voicing his inner thoughts for whatever reason. <font color=#471D04> He used nails, instead of screws. Screws would have held up through out the winter without having to be replaced. </font> A pause, and it appeared as though he struggled in order to continue. <font color=#471D04> But he used nails because....because he figured he'd be around to fix them himself. </font> Only on the last word did Weilund's calm facade crack, his voice breaking on the two syllables.

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POSTED: Fri May 21, 2010 6:46 pm

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<i>OOC: Hurrr silly me didn't realize Weilund is in wolf form. Good thing I never said anything either way. XDDD Dis is kinda short cuz I am being swamped, lmao.</i><br><br>

For a moment, Bris had the notion that the stranger didn't hear her. Silence was all that met her question, and she sighed in annoyance and took a few steps closer, words of irritation nearly leaving her lips before the male's voice finally broke the quiet. What he said stopped the shifted girl in her tracks. His voice was so familiar, so hauntingly similar to somone she'd known as a child. Bris would never forget that voice; it was one of only a handful that never addressed her with barely hidden disgust or fear. He'd been Kol's beloved, the builder of the treehouse she now claimed as her home, and he'd been missing for months.<br><br>

Bris found her irritation ebbing away as the stranger went on, her eyes softening as his voice cracked in obvious sorrow. Who was he? How did he know so much about Elliot? <font color=#bcbcbc>"Who...who are you? Did you know Elliot?"</font> As the white Stormbringer moved closer, the scent of Conor finally hit her. Whoever this stranger was, Conor had deemed his pressence acceptable in the pack, and had apparently even led him straight to the treehouse. What did that mean?<br><br>
Table by Kiri/Jenny!!
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POSTED: Fri May 21, 2010 8:16 pm

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<div style='text-align:justify;margin:10px;font-family:Verdana;font-size:9px;'> <font color=#27220E> <i>Pshft. Length doesn't matter when the post itself is nicely written! :3</i><p>
Weilund knew Elliot well enough to speculate about the nails. His brother had been such a perfectionist when it came to the things he made. No mistakes were ever left unfixed. If something was uneven, it was remedied right away. If a finished product didn't match the original plans properly, the project was scrapped and started over. So in this case – with these nails, Weilund had a couple of theories as to what happened. Either this thing was made for just Kol originally (he didn't know a lot about Kol and Eli's courtship, Elliot had deemed Eilu too young to learn about it at the time. All he knew for sure was that it involved a <i>lot</i> of his brother being persistent and pest-like) and the damaged roof was an excuse to return or perhaps it was a rushed job because the two of them had to be somewhere right away and the male had plans to fix it properly shortly after. It had never happened and so the reasons behind it all didn't really matter anymore. What <i>did</i> matter though, was the fact that Weilund planned on fixing it. He didn't which wolf figured they owned this place now. By losing a part of his heart in his brother's passing, Weilund Oriel was a shareholder in this property no matter what anyone else said. <p>
He didn't acknowledge Bris' presence until she spoke. And when he looked at her, his expression did not reveal whether or not he'd even been aware of her in the first place. A look of irritation was just disappearing as she spoke to him, quickly being replaced by something little more devastating. What was it? Despair mingled with a desperate sort of hope? Had he looked like that when Conor first mentioned Kol to him? He was positive he did because knew which look would soon occupy this stranger's face. A look he'd put there himself. For the moment though, Weilund turned away, a strangled sort of cry uttering from his lips. <p>
He kicked at the bag once more, closing his eyes at the sound of Elliot's tools clanging together. For a moment he merely stood, absolutely silent. When Eilu's eyes finally opened his face was more composed, stoic, even. Only the look in his eyes gave him away – a look of intense pain, as if he were burning from the inside out. It took an enormous amount of concentration, but the massive male's focus prevailed. He shifted as quickly as he could manage, bones cracking and popping as they adjusted to make room for his extra bulk that seemed to come from nowhere. He timed the shift well enough, pushing upwards on his front paws in time to take his weight on his hind legs, ending the transformation standing upright. When he was finished he merely stood there for a few seconds longer, his breathing slightly labored from the quick change. <p>
He saw from the corner of his eye that Bris (he assumed it was her, who else knew of Eli and this place, aside from the dead of course) hadn't left, the massive behemoth took a deep breath. It was difficult, but he was able to catch her eye in his cool blue gaze, showing her the depth of his pain. In turn he was momentarily astounded by the female's subtle beauty. The delicacy of her slender shape, the way the forest's colours reflected in her alabaster pelt. Her features were petite, perfect even. What wasn't why he found her beautiful, though – for she was by any standards. But Weilund found that his attraction for her was all in the details. The confusion in her bi-colored eyes, the worried line that creased her furrowed brow and the way she seemed to be unconsciously biting her lip while waiting for his answer. For whatever reason he also found himself wondering if her fur really was as smooth as it looked. He could reach out, just now – his massive hand moving to memorize the feel of her. It would be so easy. His hands were giant, even compared to Elliot's, but delicate in every way he moved. Weilund possessed a grace Eli could only dream of. And while his older brother was known to be handsome, Weilund was something himself – his broad form was cloaked in a heavy pelt of black, peppered with silver and white while his underside was an attractive mix of reds, oranges and tans. If he were to reach out to this stranger, his thickly muscled arm would have looked lovely against her pelt. <p>
He did nothing of the sort. Instead Weilund turned and grabbed the bag of tools, easily swing the large pack over his shoulder. <font color=#471D04> Yeah. </font> He finally spoke, answering her question. His voice was deep, softened by the sadness that thread itself through it. <font color=#471D04> I do. I mean. I did. </font> He shrugged, trying for nonchalance but managing only defeat. <font color=#471D04> I'm his brother. He died not too long ago. </font> It was the kind of news that needed to be delivered face to face. But for the life of him, Weilund just couldn't make himself turn to gaze into those beautiful eyes again.

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POSTED: Wed May 26, 2010 1:37 pm

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<i>OOC: *chews on your face*</i><br><br>

The white woman didn't move as the stranger went through his change. The girl had shifted only once since her wounds had begun to heal, and she'd come to the realization that staying in her optime form for now was probably best. She could make use of her dexterity to reapply new bandages herself, and seeing as her wounds were received in this form, they would probably heal better in this form as well. Constant stretching of the mending flesh would only slow the process.<br><br>

Bris waited patiently as the male finished, catching his breath as her softened eyes watched him. When he finally broke the silence that hung between them, it was with a suddenness the female hadn't quite expected. The words he spoke while not even facing her hit the yearling like a ton of bricks. Elliot was...dead? Bris felt her chest tighten, her breath catching painfully as she soaked that knowledge in. For months, Kol had wondered where he was, assuming all along that he was simply delayed in Jasper Valley somewhere. He'd followed Kol back to Dahlia after they'd lost their litter of pups, but had then mentioned needing to visit his family in Jasper for awhile. Kol had died waiting for him to come back.<br><br>

Elliot had been like a brother to Bris herself, and her mismatched eyes watered as she slowly dropped to her knees. Her gaze was blank, seeing but not seeing, and her voice was shaky. Eli had been one of the very few wolves in Solbjorg who hadn't flinched away from Bris in fear and disgust. In the months before she'd left her homeland, her closest loved ones had been Kol, Drey, grandfather Crow, and Elliot Oriel. <font color=#bcbcbc>"What...happened?"</font> For the moment, Bris could think of nothing else but Eli's kind face, his gentle eyes and the way he threw all of himself into anything he did. He'd been the perfect counterpoint to Kol's stubbornness, and Bris had always believed that no matter what, those two would conquer everything together. Yet fate had proven a cruel mistress, and had made the pair die separately, far away from one another, when they had more than earned the right to die in one another's arms. Silent tears slipped from the white girl's eyes as she remained kneeling where her legs had slowly given out. The only question that whispered through her mind again and again was <i>"Why?"</i>
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Table by Kiri/Jenny!!
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