i'm not gonna listen to what the past says

POSTED: Fri Jan 20, 2012 12:48 am

I want to jump in to <a href='http://soulsrpg.com/ipb/viewtopic.php?t=24461' target='_blank'>this thread with Matteo & co</a> once the fight ends, so I am writing this with the assumption that Claudius knows that Teo and Anatole got into a fight.

Taking stock of his inventory in the winter was a difficult thing to do. His paper was a little wet from when some snow had blown in to his den. Since he didn't know how to make his own paper, he had lost his last few sheets of blank paper he'd scavenged a few years ago. Aside from his loss of paper, his collection of plants and berries was doing well. He had been reading through a few books on pottery-making and was planning on making his own pots and jars to store more plants and items in the spring. He knew that if he wanted to improve his skills, he would definitely have to do more in way of collection. The winter was a bad time for dyeing, so he had taken up whittling. Although he tried not to dwell on Dawali, whittling always made him think of the older wolf. He still missed him terribly.

Claudius sighed and set down his whittling knife. As he looked around his den, he realized he'd gotten halfway through counting his inventory before stopping. Unfortunately, since he couldn't really do much in the winter, he'd gotten bored and started to fiddle with things he had lying around his cave. He had a few pieces of wood he had intended to use for a fire, but began carving them. He had a rough outline of a bird, but he was nowhere near finished.

He picked up his whittling knife and continued to carve. Again, his thoughts wandered to the events of a few days prior. He didn't want to dwell on it since thinking about what Matteo did just made him angry. He had been lied to.

POSTED: Fri Jan 20, 2012 6:33 pm

(312) Anatole is gonna run off after the fight, so assuming he saw and briefly told Claudius what happened before-hand.

The dark wolf stalked through the packlands with fury in his blood. How dare that pathetic mongrel attack him? He had done nothing but seen the truth of the matter for what it was and now his face was dotted with thin tooth marks caused in the moment before the older man had ripped them apart. Anatole had not been the aggressor and kept it that way; he had skulked the fighting ring until the other three had left and his cousin appeared and then gone off to wash his face in the snow. He did not think the small and shallow wounds would scar but did not care either way. All he could think about was the battle stolen from him, and the fact that he was right.

So now he went to find the only other witness, intent on seeing whatever tribal justice dealt fair. As was typical, Anatole traveled in his four legged form and moved with the fast-paced and snow-ready pace of his mother. It was typical of the breed and made for an excellent winter-advantage. He was nearly jogging, so enraged was his body. A myriad of emotions bubbled through him, beginning with the still lingering sex-drive from his night with the woman and culminating with the confrontation of the coyote. Two fights in two days, and he now wondered if coming back had been the right choice at all. Green eyes blazed as he cut through the village and towards the home he had spent a singular night in.

“Claudius,” he called, scenting him inside. The dark wolf lingered out of the doorway, his body still but his tail and ears twitching with the pent-up energy of a caged animal. Someone needed to sort this out and Anatole was not the one; he was too feral, too savage to deal with anything on a political scale.

POSTED: Fri Jan 20, 2012 7:23 pm

Okay, I'll keep his knowledge super vague! He'll know Matteo did something against Anatole and will just be angry that Matteo started a fight between a fellow tribemember.

Edit: I was thinking it would probably be tough to add in craftsman stuff to this thread, so don't worry about that! c; It can just be about Anatole's fight and catching up/ whatever works!

His cousin’s shout startled Claudius out of his reverie. He jerked his hand suddenly, which caused the knife to jump and skip across the wood and lodged itself in the palm of his hand. Claudius bit back a cry and let out a high squeak. It was mostly the compounded shock that hurt. He let out a strangled bark in reply as he examined his palm. The knife had not cut too deeply and he could see that it was just a small scrape. He quickly set the knife aside and straightened up. He slouched toward the door and pulled back the deerskin door, which revealed a visibly angry wolf. Claudius resisted the urge to flinch and instead beckoned his cousin inside with his wounded hand.

Claudius was glad to see his cousin but he was also upset to know that Matteo had attacked a fellow tribemember. Claudius felt betrayed and he was certain that Anatole, who was more in touch with his canine instincts. Every time Anatole spoke or did anything, Claudius was acutely aware of how present he was and how very much he existed. Although it had intimidated Claudius when he was younger without knowing why, now that Claudius recognized it, he respected his cousin. That didn't mean he still didn't find him to be a bit intimidating though.

"Anatole," he replied quietly. "What... happened...? Tell me everything." As he spoke, he moved to find a bowl of water to wash his hand and then bandage it with some dried plantain leaves.

POSTED: Sat Jan 28, 2012 12:54 am

(343) Maybe when he comes back? :O

Both ears rose sharply at the cry, and Anatole took one tentative step forward. He was swiftly met by his pale cousin; how much like Tayui the boy looked. Often Anatole wondered about Claudius (and his siblings) father. Like his own, this was somewhat of a mystery. His mother had never told him anything, though he did not understand this was because of her own ignorance. As it stood, he was only certain that his father had been the dark one. Living north had proved few wolves were as dark as his own pelt, which had made him somewhat of an oddity amongst them.

They were so similar but yet so foreign to one another. Claudius seemed more settled into this place, into his ways, into the role of submission and rank. Despite his own lower position, Anatole could not grasp that he was required to bow to those apprentices around him. Yet there was a sickness and a disease within the coyote that his instincts wanted to eradicate.

The wolf slipped after his cousin, position himself so that he was close to the door. He was unused to buildings and did not like the idea of being closed in. A den was one thing; a den was small and no threat could come in to it then. Green eyes flicked to the entrance and then back to motions that Claudius was going through. “I don’t know,” he began, his voice slowing as he ran through the details. “He had blood on him; then the woman showed up. She looked…” Anatole looked up to Claudius sharply, a fierce light burning in his neon colored eyes. “She looked afraid of him. What woman would fear her mate? It’s unnatural.” He did not speak aloud the fear of abuse; it was not his place to do so.

“I told him to back off…then he just came at me. If that other man hadn’t been there I would have killed him,” the dark wolf rumbled, fur bristling along his spine. “He’s not right, Claudius. He’s not.”

POSTED: Tue Jan 31, 2012 12:24 am

After who comes back? :o Hurp this got long, sorry! (WC: 545)

Claudius was slow to take his seat. His ears were turned to catch Anatole’s every word since he did not want to miss a thing. His cousin had always struck him as a very individual and Claudius did not think he would appreciate having to say something more than once. He recognized the ‘I don’t know’ as a stall for time as Anatole processed the question. Claudius nodded encouragingly as he turned to find a bowl. Carved into one wall were crude shelves reinforced with tree branches. He had laid out a series of branches horizontally to create a flat base and then reinforced the shelves by pitching the wood vertically. On the top shelf he kept some of his non-dyeing plants, stored in clay pots, jars, and anything he could salvage. He took out a handful of plantain leaves, all the while Anatole explained his situation.

Claudius’ hand froze in mid-air as he withdrew his leaves. He turned quickly and cast a questioning look over his shoulder. Blood? He knew he’d smelled it, but he hadn’t realized there had been blood before the fight. That was certainly not a good sign. And of course, if Gemma was afraid – though, she had struck him as somewhat uncertain, if a bit like himself – that wasn’t good either. Claudius turned back to the shelves and replaced the lid on the pot and then brought the leaves over to his small fireplace. He set the leaves on a flat stone as he considered Anatole’s words. Why indeed would one fear their mate? They would likely have good reason, since a mate would know their counterpart the best. Claudius wondered if Matteo’s crimes in Anathema had been more than abandoning his first mate.

Claudius nodded gravely when Anatole emphasized Matteo’s possible insanity or – well, something – Claudius didn’t know what at this point and he didn’t think Anatole knew, either.

“I was… there for the… end,” he began slowly. “Of the fight I mean. I...” He frowned and then sighed quietly. “I accepted… him in to… AniWaya… he said… he had left his old pack, Anathema, because… he had left his mate. Now Gemma is his mate. Do you think… he was going… to leave her?” Claudius frowned and then shook his head, adding: “I don’t want… to speculate… without reason… but… he attacked you. In AniWaya, the punishment… is for you… to return the assault… in kind. We don’t have a War Chief, but… if we did… he or she would likely oversee it. Assault is not… taken lightly.” He then added, with a much darker tone, “if I were still leader, I would want him thrown out. He gave me his word. He has broken it… and… assaulted… a tribe member. This is… unacceptable.” Although Claudius never would have considered himself to be a vengeful wolf, he was certainly traditional. Having been raised in AniWaya his entire life, he believed in their laws and believed that they held justice. However, the taste of the war and even that small sliver of leadership had changed Claudius. More importantly, Matteo had hurt not only his mate, but Claudius’ family. Claudius was forgiving, but with one simple action, Matteo had hurt so many; how many more could he hurt? Moreover, Claudius now knew what he wanted and he knew that if he wanted something to be done, it was up to him to make it happen. He could start by petitioning Councilwoman in lieu of a War Chief.

POSTED: Wed Feb 15, 2012 10:19 pm

Anatole. He's gonna go angst off after this thread.

The fact of the matter was that Anatole’s entire personality had been carved out of the instinct and the lessons learned in the wild. He despised the unnatural and the peculiar, and saw sickness of the mind as an extension of such. A pack was only as strong as its members and to see such fault in Matteo placed him within the circle of those who needed to be taught. Claudius had once been such a person, but his ability to take command had risen him in rank within Anatole’s eyes. Because their leader valued him, so would the feral wolf that did not truly belong amongst these wolf-men.

He listened patiently to his cousin’s words, learning that there was a reason for the coyote’s arrival. Leaving a mate was not unheard of; he had seen many wolves do so and not by choice alone. Perhaps the woman he had been with before had been less valuable than the coyote; speculation was beyond him and so he did not stop to question why, only how. “I would have,” he said flatly, leaving the threat hang. Instinct demanded he kill the man. The will to remain as part of the pack denied such a thing. “He’s always seemed…wrong, to me. I had only met him once before; he isn’t like us.” Struggling to explain things, Anatole fell short. How could he describe what it was to know the rule of the wild and the instinct to conform to the pack?

POSTED: Sun Feb 19, 2012 9:47 pm

Ooooh ok! (WC: 312)

Claudius' eyes widened when Anatole said that he would have. The force behind the words sent a shiver up Claudius' spine. But after a moment, his expression turned to puzzlement. He would what? He would have left Gemma? Claudius hadn't realized that Anatole didn't like her so much. Claudius had never really thought ill of the girl; though, were this a stricter pack, she would have been reprimanded for being idle. When she first joined, she had not really emphasized her skills. What use was there in having a tribe member who didn't do anything?

Claudius frowned when Anatole spoke again. He had felt something when he had accepted them, but he hadn't thought anything of it. He had been suspicious, but they had given him their word and Claudius had thought that counted for something. Now, after seeing what Matteo did to his own cousin, Claudius wondered if he could have ever known and prevented this senseless violence.

"I never... told any... one... but... some pack... members from Anath-e-e-ema... the pa-ack... they left... were here looking... for them. I told them... I ha-a-ad... never... see-een the-em... before. Because... then it would put us in trouble with Anathema-a and we don't need... that..." He looked away for a moment, his hands itching to put his things away and spruce up his den a bit. "What... what seemed... off... about them?" Claudius, now remembering what Anatole had just said, intrigued him further. If they had left Anathema for some nefarious reason, then he wanted to know why and whether this was why they seemed ‘off’ to Anatole. They had told him they’d broken a law in Anathema, but he had should have asked more. Which law? Why? Silenly, he berated himself for his own stupidity. Now it was his fault that these horrible wolves were in his tribe and had hurt his family.

POSTED: Tue Feb 21, 2012 7:23 am

He might have killed Matteo had he the chance. Size and experience alone would allow such a thing; regardless of whatever strength the coyote thought he had Anatole was a wolf who knew how to fight. It was pack law alone that stopped him; he recognized that despite the fury for such an attack. Green eyes narrowed, dimmed, and he turned over the incident again. Perhaps he had provoked it; perhaps he could have stopped it. The instinct demanded otherwise though, and he would not break with instinct.

Startled back to his thoughts, the dark wolf furrowed his brow. “He was acting strange,” Anatole finally explained. “When I first met him he was crying about something; talking to himself. Said he had bad feelings about the pack’s leaders, whatever that means,” the wolf shifted his weight uncomfortably, thick tail curling around his haunch. “I’ve never met his woman. But she was afraid of him…and that’s just not right,” he struggled yet, unable to speak with any sort of literary clarity. While not a dumb man, Anatole was hardly well versed with a vocabulary that might allow him to speak of his feelings.

POSTED: Tue Feb 21, 2012 10:08 pm

Remembering that he had intended to bandage his hands, Claudius picked up his bowl of dried plantain leaves. He realized he had forgotten his pestle and he set the bowl back down by the fire once more. He listeened attentively to his cousin as he explained his thoughts, pausing every so often to nod or focus on the words. When Anatole said that Matteo had had bad feelings about the pack leaders, Claudius paused.

"About... our tribe or his... old pack?" he asked. "And talking to... himself... as.. in... he thought... some-o-one was... there?" he asked with a shiver. Matteo hadn't gotten his spirit guide at that point, so Claudius didn't think it was that. But if Matteo was imaginining wolves that didn't exist, that could indicate very deep psychological problems. Claudius didn't want to jump to conclusions, so he kept his mind open for the possibility of a ghost or otherwordly being they couldn't see. After all, his mother had seen ghosts and Claudius believed it to be true even though he had never seen one himself.

As for the bit about Gemma, well... he would have to inquire further about that.

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