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Post by André on Jun 10, 2006 14:40:02 GMT -5
It didn't fit. It was that simple. Even in his mind, where he had been mulling the thought over, and over, and over again, it didn't fit. The summer was not the time for such a thing. His thoughts and pains would have felt more at home, more real in the winter.
Yet it was not the winter, and still André made his last trip back to Koran. Every step was a stab of pain, and every sound a scream from hell. His single good eye was bloodshot, and cloudy. His pace was slow, and he navigated more by scent than by sight. His limp had returned, on the foreleg where he had been caught in a bear trap: the same trap that had begun the whole rotten mess.
It had been in the spring when he had been caught, and he had been going out hunting for his new pups. The trap had closed over his ankle with its rusty demon-bite, and he had been held there for days, starving to death. When a human child had felt sympathy for André, and freed him from the trap, the red varg chose not to return the favor, and had killed him, just as he had killed so many other two-legged demons.
Angry, starving, and desperate, he had set out for months hunting the humans. All around the valley he had called his home André left a ring of despair and destruction. And then he had returned to Koran, victorious in his own mind, to find that his pups had all grown, and left, and that his mate, Tarkah, was infuriated with him. He had stayed for perhaps a month before setting out again, to hunt, and to travel in the only way he knew. The next time he returned he was beyond welcome: a stranger in the pack that had once called him Dragga. He stayed only two days that time.
And now, he was coming back, despite the half of his mind that told him they would only cast him away, forgetting who he was. The old Dragga's coat was no longer the deep red-orange it had been in his youth. Now he was a varg of muddied blacks, grays, and washed-out oranges. His body was coated in scars, which worked their ways around him like a complex living vine, flexing with his muscles beneath the skin. No longer did André posses the lithe he had once had: now he was a loose, dying bag of flesh, barely able to drag himself back to his home to die in the company of his mate.
Red lines of infection traced their way about his skin beneath his thinning pelt. His gait was a sick stagger, and the varg's tongue lolled from his mouth, swollen from the fire of disease that burned in his body. No, he thought, they would surely not recognize him. This varg that trudged his way back home was not a Dragga any more than he was a pup.
The breeze that stirred around him, and ruffled his fur was warm, and gentle, though André hardly felt it. The smell of summer flowers, and warm underbrush greeted his nostrils, along with stronger scents: those of fresh markings. He was nearing the border of Koran. Small green plants tugged at his mud-caked ankles as the varg padded steadily forward. Half of his mind was screaming to turn around, and die somewhere else, alone, where he wouldn’t have to worry about the disapproval of his pack. The other half told him to just give up and die right where he fell. The only thing that kept him going was the momentum of his legs, and the knowledge that when he stopped this time, it would be the last.
On his way back into the valley, André had spent a good deal of time in the old Frecne lands, working himself up for his last hours, and wallowing in the deep nostalgia that swam over him in the land where he had been raised from a pup. He had sat for a long time upon the huge boulder where Kanis had always sat, and watched over his pack. He had slept in the dens, and he had padded around the circle where the huge feud had been, when Shatocwnn had left Frecne. Then André had set on, pushing his last hours beyond their length, as time stretched, and stretched, until it existed no more. As his infection deepened, it became harder and harder to walk. The final trek between Frecne and Koran had taken him two days, though to André it felt like two months. Time had quit, and pain reigned.
Head slung low, tongue lolling, and eye closed, André crossed the border into the Koran territory, and his final resting-place.
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Post by Tarkah on Jun 10, 2006 20:42:48 GMT -5
Cross my heart hope to die That I’ll always be by your side But where you go you never confide Yet where I’ll be is where you lie.
The winds were changing in Koran as a white form padded swiftly across the terrain. Her paw pads swept up the dust and the dead leaves as she went. Her tail swishing from side to side because of the momentum in her stride. Her golden oculars flashed as they reflected the bright sun making her squint. Tarkah had much growing up to do. She started off being a naive drappa. Thinkign everything was rainbows and flowers. No it was much more then that. A great war, the disappearence of her brother, the death of one of her daughters, her mate's 'vacations' and much more shaped the ivory wolf into who she was now. She wanted to go back to the days of frolicking and playing but she could not. It was scary but, Tarkah was beginning to age. The fae was in her 4th season (maybe 5th?) and she was not getting any younger.
Her scars that were covered by her thick arctic fur showed her many experiences in life. She had been a long running drappa and Koran was her child, but like all mothers there would be a time that you would have to let your child free, and fly on wings of golden oppurtunity and future. That future Tarkah knew would be in Phantom. The drappa was proud of her yes, and proud of how well she went through her mate Kadin's dissappearence. Rather the two fae had much in come on.
Though no matter what Tarkah had been through though hardest was the dissappearences of her mate. Twice she had welcomed him home and twice he had left. Once she ignored him, let him lay and after that did he leave. Thrice had Tarkah's heart been torn apart only to be sewn back together by what spirit she had left. But with it came deep regret and wondering the possiblities of the 'What if...' what if she had followed him instead? What if she did not ignore him when he came back the third time? For the last two years she had been in a depressive state. Mad and angry, bitchy and moody. It did not serve the Koran pack well, for she was either mulling around in the dens or gone off somewhere by herself. Before she would wait. Sit on her cliff that gave her the vision of the whole valley. There she waited in hopesof seeing her ruby mate come back and stay forever.
Fairytales don't end this way Or was it a fairytale? It didn't seem like one. But Tarkah had to live for her pack, she had to move on. And so her heart turned to stone, protected in a layer of glass. She was clear now, and no logner held her mental mind that came with depression. Her spark returned and it did koran well. But now with her mind clear, she wished she had forgiven her mate the last time he returned. Now she knew it was too late. He was gone. THough in her heart she hoped and wished that her mate was okay wherever he was. Perhaps he had found a new mate, a better one than her. That would always tend to his wounds and care for him. A beautiful mate. At the thoughts Tarkah dipped her head in a sigh.
"Why am I thinking about you? Why do you have to plague me like a sick disease" Tarkah spoke softly. She once again found herself at the edge of her cliff. Tarkah whined. It was one of those days again. Those days where she would come back here by herself away from her pack, and mourn. She was nothing more then an empty shell of what she had been when she was younger. Only her spirit and love for her koran was left. And there she layed, her eyes closing as she fell asleep.
Dreams...just dreams. Flashes of a red form appeared, battle scarred, withered, close to death. Blind in an eye. Fur of a fading fire. Green eyes. Mine. Love. Wolf. Andre. Tarkah's golden eyes burst open, her black ears fell. Lifting herself up she looekd around the cliff. she had fallen asleep but she hadn't had that dream in a while. She had seen him right there. Right There! Tarkah jumped. There by the borders was what she saw in her dream. Though far away it was clear enough to know, to see what it was. She knew it... He was back again. But why. She was so sure he had moved on. Ever since she had ignored him, pretending not to know him, pretended she no longer loved him. She was sure he had a new life. She was sure he would have a new mate, new pups. But there he was.
Why was he back now? Was he always goign to plague her. Or was he just here to tell her that what he had. Tell her about his new life. W i t h o u t her. Tarkah whined. But she had to see him. Slowly her glass heart was beginning to crack.
The snow white drappa lurked closer. The scent of blood livid in her nostrils making her grimace and let out a whine. This was not how she remembered the proud Dragga. Emerald eyes bright, he was unafraid of anything, his handsome face grinning in the sunlight. And Tarkah knew, no matter how many years, no matter how hard she tried, or how hard she tricked herself, or others, she could not fool herself. She still loved the wolf.
Tarkah peeked through the green foliage, her golden eyes blinked with sympathy. She could feel her heart beating in its cage asif it were the first time she had seen him. Back in the caves during one of winter's harshest blizzards. How when she crept in to seek shelter she found more then safety in the cave. But safety in the heart of the red male.
Tarkah gulped, feeling somethign stuck in her throat. She had nothign to say, but her eyes were different, not the same harsh and rash emotion she confronted him with a year ago but soft, compelling and darned she may be, but it was love.
Slowly the drappa padded out from her hiding spot and walked slowly toward the heap of red. His back was to her and so Tarkah crept up behind the red varg. Her eyes examining his bodice, and her ears fell flat, her tail hanging low. She was in disbelief. Bringing up the courage she padded up to the varg's side and pressed herself against him, her muzzle dipping and she brushed it against his shoulder. It felt like the first time they had courted by the falls. She was nervous, unsure, yet so full of love. Her eyes glowed as her lips finally parted to words that had been lost for so long. "Andre..."
[yah...sorry about That ^ *points*]
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Post by André on Jun 10, 2006 21:39:31 GMT -5
Just one more step. One more and they'll see me and come. One more and they'll smell me, and seek me out. One more step, and I won't have to die alone. Just one more, until I can see Tarkah, and tell her goodbye. Just one more step. One more and they'll...
The words chanted through his head, a dark mantra; the cadence that kept his pads moving. Thunder rolled endless between his temples, echoing and reverbrating with painful resonance. André's single eye had been closed for almost five minutes, and it felt as though it was shut for good. Maybe it was better that way. He wouldn't have to see himself as he was now any longer. His thin fur, muddy paws, and sweaty, infected flesh sickened him. A proud, powerful remnant of his old self screamed in his mind to hide. Don't let them see you like this. Die without troubling them, and leave them with the memories of you as you were, that is, if they still remember you. An even deeper part of his mind told him that perhaps there was nobody left who remembered André; that he would return to an alien pack who would perhaps be kind to him in his last hours, but would not know him from Fenris.
André's mind was a cacophany of voices. Voices of his childhood, his friends, his mate, his children, his old Dragga, his packmates, and worst of all, the humans he had killed.
[Tarkah: {You are not my mate. You are not my André. Leave. Die. You left me! You Left Me!}]
[Ixy: {It was me! It should have been me! Why did you...}]
[Kanis: {You are too young to join Frecne. Leave, pup. What do you have for us?}]
[Shato: {Why didn't you help us in The Village? Why didn't you help us kill them? They hurt Brownen... They hurt me! You weren't there. You never will be. Go, Die! Die. You don't deserve Tarkah. You're rotten!}]
[Bryr: {You left me! You left Tarkah! And I left. Like Father like son! It's your fault I'm gone. It's your fault I left it all...}]
[Zephyr: {Stupid pup. Leave now and make it easier!}]
[Young André: {Why am I here? What are you doing? Who are you? Why is your fur so bloody???}]
[Neit: {You are worthless. Cry off. Cry off. Go. Die alone, and afraid. WolfBane take you! May WolfBane take you!}]
[Shato: {I leave Frecne now. I won't return. I'm going because you are worthless André. I'm going because you, and Kanis, and Tarkah, and Ixy, and...}]
[Kanis: {You left Frecne like Shato did! You left us to run off with Tarkah and make your own pack! You failed Frecne, and it died... and now you've failed Koran! But they will live! But they will live to remember you and laugh! They're laughing! Run away pup. Hide while we fight. Hide while we kill. Hide, and Die. Hide, and Die.}]
[Tarkah: {No André! You can't come back. Not now! I've found another... and we're happy. You're bad memories. Bad luck. Bad history. Leave! Cry off! Die alone!}]
[Gottolf: {I see your death André. I see you dead alone! Wolfbane took me, and made me his hand. Fenris and Tor will accept Tarkah into their realm. But you! You will die alone, and haunt these lands in misery! You will die alone! Cry off! Cry off!}]
[Kanis: {Cry off pup.}]
[Tarkah: {Cry off!}]
[Ixy: {Cry off!}]
[Shato: {Cry off!}]
[Leohlic: {Cry off!}]
[Zephyr: {Cry off!}]
The voices were random. Some called up memories of the past, and most berated him. Many he could not understand... but they were all there, yelling at the same time. André's skull felt as though it would implode.
And then he felt the touch. Her flank was against his before he knew it, her muzzle against his neck. The voices stopped, and his eye flew open. A low moaning sound escaped through his closed, clenched jaws, and André fell to the ground beside Tarkah. Hearing it, one would have had a difficult time deciding whether the moan was relief or pain. Perhaps it was both.
Looking up at the white varg above him, the dying varg mouthed slowly "I'm sorry."
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Post by Tarkah on Jun 10, 2006 23:13:28 GMT -5
Hey there shard in my heart Can I be your angel and sweep you off your feet?
Golden eyes closed as she breathed in his heavy scent. Blood filled she could stil lremember it. And it flooded her heart with warmth. It was a strange feeling. A feeling she had not felt in ages. It felt so new to her. Subconsiously she sighed, her muscles relaxing, she felt light, and weightless but then something came to her ears. A soft moan. Her ears pricked and her eyelids fluttered open. She had not yet looked at her mate's visage yet. Was she scared? Yes. She wasn't scared of his image no. She would always love her the red wolf no matter how he looked. Yet, she was afraid that when she looked at the male, she would not remember him. That she would not be able to find the Andre she loved in those eyes. But at that moment Tarkah was sick of herself. Sick of her crazy thoughts that wound itself in her mind.
But then she felt the warmth, the touch leave her. And unknowingly she let out a soft whine. she turned to find the male was no longer standing. Tarkah looked down to see her mate lying in a red heap by her feet. Tarkah shook her head softly as she moved so she was standing over him. Her golden eyes watched him, and they finally met with his orbs. Green yet...fading. It was still the Andre she knew, the Andre that she would always remember. Her lips parted but no words left her throat and she read the mouthed words. She only stood and close her eyes. Her muzzle lifting to the skies. It was bright and sunny. Ironic. It shouldn't be such a eautiful day. This wasn't the time or place for a beautiful day. Tarkah thought. Then a voice echoed.Of course Tarkah, of course it should be a beautiful dat. You're with your mate again aren't you? It was the voice of her adoptive mother Zephyr. Tarkah lowered her ears and her eyes opened, her tail lifting as she gazed lovingly down at her mate. The sun glowing from her back made her ghostly white. Would she be the angel that would sweep the battle torn soldier to the heavens?
Tarkah lowered her muzzle and whined softly. She ran her tongue over the red varg's muzzle. He had returned. Yes once again. But this time she could not find any grudge to hold against the dragga. Yet did she really want to drive him away again? No not anymore. He was home. This was where he belonged. And she was by his side. happily ever after?
Tarkah gritted her teeth. It wasn't going to be the fairytale ending. Far from it... Tarkah lowered herself and looked over his wounds. Somehow she knew that it was her fautl he ended up his way. His death was her fault. She touched her nose with the male's and cried softly. "no..I-I'm...Sorry" Tarkah whispered. She was shaking, her legs felt weak and she felt cold. She collapsed and layed beside the male. She still felt her muscles shaking. It wasn't from nervousness nor fear. Tarkah did not know what it was from. But she quivered. She inched closer so she would lay pressed beside the male. And she let her muzzle wander toward the draggas neck. Tarkah couldn't get up, her legs felt to weak, as if she had been running for miles on end, for moons and years. And now she had finally stopped, yet once she stopped she could not get back up.
Tarkah looked to see Andre, her ears fell flat against her cranium, her heart beath loud in her chest. It had been so long. It had been too long. Tarkah struggled and got up so she was lying on her stomach. Dipping her muzzle she whimpered "I missed you so much..."
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Post by Phantom on Jun 11, 2006 11:11:27 GMT -5
// I'd like to post here... later on in the thread. Much later... if that's allright with your two. //
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Post by André on Jun 11, 2006 21:27:31 GMT -5
/*Too much later and André will be dead. I don't mind you popping in. How about you Tarkah?*/
André squezzed his single eye shut tightly as she spoke, both enjoying her voice as it swept over him like a warm breeze, and stifling back a scream. He wanted to scream in both triumph and defeat. The old dragga wanted to scream because of what he had thrown away, and because of what he had once had. André wanted to scream because of all that he would never experiance and never know. He wasn't supposed to die like this... not torn, and beaten, and sick at the very edge of his pack lands. He had always envisioned himself dying in peace next to Tarkah in the dens. Yet he was going to die a failed dragga, next to his mate he had failed and so close to the pack he had abandoned. The thought sickened him.
And then she was beside him, lying next his flank, warm, and comforting. A slow but firm resolve swept over him. He would not scream, he would not moan, and he would not cry, or let himself feel pity for himself. André resolved to die with what dignity he had left.
Turning his head to his mate, he whispered softly to her around his laborious and rough breathing. He had once agained opened his eye, and gazed directly into her's as he spoke.
"I supose we don't have time to catch up. I --" A violent cough seized him, and he felt a distinct coppery taste in his mouth. Ignoring it, André continued. "I missed you too, but I don't want to die wallowing in it. I want you to promise me that when I die, you will do something for me."
The red varg gasped a wheezing cough, and clenched his eye shut again, muscles contracting in pain, and burying his muzzle in the soft dirt before his face. A deep panic swam over him. What if he died before he could ask her about Das Feuer / Die Verbrennung? What if he died before he was ready; before he told her he loved her, and...
His thoughts wer cut short as pain ripped through his lungs again. All at once André grew very faint... and he knew he didn't have much time.
/*Sorry for the crappy post >_<*/
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Post by Synrath on Jun 11, 2006 22:36:52 GMT -5
I'm falling into, memories of you, and things we used to do...
It had been a long while since the charcoal wolf had traversed these lands, the lands he had once, so long ago, called home. The lands had been buried in his memory, a lost part of a wolf he had once been. A spectre of the past, a slight echo of laughter. The quicksilver orbs watched impassively, as this ghost, this creautre that seemed like him, this small black-gray wolf trotted past, a trio of wolves about him: Roseki, Ice, Phantom, Kadin. A small smile crossed the charcoal muzzle, then faded, a lifetime of trouble's etched onto a muzzle that might have once belonged to that much younger wolf, that might have a ghost of that tiny wolf's happiness.
Now he had come here on a different errand. To relate himself to the only part of his past he cared to associate with: his mother, the Drappa of these lands. It had been a long while since they had spoken, but that was primarily because of his father. The wolf that was once Bryrpaw resented Andre fiercely, while his mother seemed perfectly ok with his leaveing and returning constantly. But when Bryr had needed his father most, the red wolf had turned his back on family, pack, and his mate to go wandering.
That same tiny charcoal wolf had idolized Andre. To his tiny eyes, the red wolf was a god; on par, if not more important then Fenris. And when that same god turned his back on the son that had loved him so dearly, he had broken something; a fragile part of the young wolf that couldn't be repaired entirely, ever. The young wolf had grown into this beast.
Syn shook the thoughts from his head, and followed the scents he recognized carefully. Two mingled at one point. Both were familier... paternal. Syn's lips curled as he noted the second scent. His father had again returned, probably to his mothers joy. He shook his head in disgust at the red wolf, and headed that way, totally unprepared for the shock of his father's appearance.
He felt shock, pain, and horror. Despite all his rage at his father, he had never wished this upon him. With a small whine of confusion, he made his way to his side, staring in disbelief. "Andre?" he asked quietly.
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Post by Phantom on Jun 11, 2006 23:20:43 GMT -5
// Eh, since Synnie popped in, I might as well //
I'm so tired of being here, suppressed by all my childish fears And if you have to leave, I wish that you would just leave Cause your presence still lingers here, and it won't leave me alone
She could smell it. Through the dusty veil of slumber, sleep that she seldom enjoyed these, she could scent it; the stench of death. The stench that she had tasted when her mother and father died. The stink that had burned her nares when her brother was shot by the hunter. The smell on the arrows that had pierced her mate's flesh. She wished she never had to deal with it again. Death had come much in her life, taking away many of her loved ones, and one day it would come for her. But why did it have to come back and taunt her so much?
Shuddering as she woke, Phantom's yellow eyes flew open. They were sire and bloodshot, another side effect from the insomnia that had plagued her these past three seasons. The Beta groaned. Her limbs were stiff as she rose to her paws, and she grunted in disgust as her joints cracked under her fur. She had been dreaming of death again, she had scented it in her dream, and she could still scent it. She shook her head, trying to clear the feeling and hoping that it was sleepy-ness induced hallucination. But it was still there, and as Phantom tested the air with her nose, she realized it was real. Suddenly, she was fully alert. She broke into a run, her paws pounding toward the border of Koran. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong.
More scents filled her nose as she came closer. Tarkah, she was there. And two males... one she could not remember, the other was overpowered by the stink of disease, and Phantom nearly choked on it. As She reached the border, she saw the ivory Drappa resting beside a fallen varg. Near her hovered a coal black dragga. She came to a halt in front of them.
"Tarkah, what's happening? Something..." she trailed off, her fur bristling with sorrowful recognition as she realized who the coal dragga was. "...Bryr? You're here. I thought you were..."
The dark brown female gasped as her eyes caught sight of the fallen. She recognized him immediately. It was Andre. Wounded and ill as he was, he still looked like the proud Dragga Phantom had considered a second father. She gave a pain-filled whimper, laying her ears back on the crown of her head, and came before him. She knew, immediately, that he was dying. And he would die soon. She could smell it, she could see it in his emerald eye.
"Andre," she choked on her words for a moment. What do ou say to a dying Dragga such as Andre? The Beta bowed her head and contiued speaking. "Andre...you've returned. Welcome home, my Dragga."
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Post by André on Jun 13, 2006 22:32:33 GMT -5
/*Blah. I think it's prolly Tarkah's turn to post, but seeing has she hasn't, I will before this thread dies, and André gets stuck living any longer than is dignified. >_< I'm almost glad to be killing him. He's so hard to RP because he feels so godamn fake. */
Around his pain, and his slowly diminishing senses of perception, the varg heard the aproach of a third to the clearing. Something about his scent was was comforting, and nostalgic, but at that moment André could not identify what. His mind was wrapped wholly around holding on long enough to express his dying wishes.
Before he could continue though, the figure burst into the clearing at a fast trot. An underlying tone of anger had pervailed in the scent of the newcomer, but it vanished like smoke as the varg stopped suddenly before Tarkah and André. At his curent position, the red varg could only see the newcomer's ankles. His fur was a gray/black hue that seemed to call up memories somewhere in the rear of his mind, but try as he might, around his pain, he could not at first identify the varg. The voice was what made the connection.
"André..."
All at once the ex-dragga was fully conscious, despite his pain. Thousands of words, and statements, and questions tried to escape his throat, but only one made it.
"Bryr... I'm glad you are here. I've missed you, son."
And then he was down again, his breathing shallow and fast. Each inhale seemed to set his throat on fire, and every exhale ground shards of glass into his lungs. His eye was closed again, and muzzle buried in the dirt when yet a fourth aproached.
André didn't even know she had enetered the clearing until she spoke. Her voice was distant as she inquired towards Tarkah, and even further away when she spoke to him. Phantom, his mind instructed him, and he didn't argue. He remembered Phantom well.
Slowly, the varg surfaced above his pain and wheezed out a couple fractured phrases.
"I'm not your --" a cough. His nose was bleeding now, and he could still taste the sickening metallic suggestion in his mouth. "I'm not your Dragga anymore. I left you, and now I'm dying." A pause "It will be soon, and there is something I need... I... I need." He was cut off as he passed out into the soil.
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Post by Tarkah on Jun 14, 2006 18:00:57 GMT -5
(gaaaah. well if it were to prolong your life i wouldn't have posted GRAWR)
Let's turn back the memories of time and erase them from our mind. so we can go and relive them, and revive those days...
Tarkah watched the red dragga beneath her. Unwillign to speak or to say anything. Rather lost of words that could have expressed. but it seemed so fake. Yesturday Tarkah was fine. A happy day. THe forecast called for bright sunshine and warm breezes. Yet the next day, it was surreal. She was dreaming. This was just a dream. No. Tarkah whined. Crania upturned to the heavens, as if searching for one last glimmer of hope. She would find none.
Her golden gaze fell and landed back onto the red dragga. "no...no you won't..." she pleaded, her eyes falling. She scrunched her eyes tight unable to sieze the truth that her beloved mate was dieing infront of her. "no.. we won't... but never forget" she whined, "of those days" she whispered and ran her tongue over Andre's crimson stained muzzle. It tasted of dry blood yet the she wolf cared not. Tarkah nodded, her ears pulled back at the realization at the pain her mate was feeling and she wished that his pain would go away, and instead weave its plague onto her. Burrying her muzzle into his neck fur, she breath in his scent and nodded. No matter what she would do it. "Yes... I will..anything. I promise." she breathed, her legs were still shaking and it was as if she were goign through faint seizures of her own. As she looked up, "There's one thing I have to say... I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I turned away from you, the last time you returned. My heart was just a blur, and i was cloudy. forgive me for my regretful mistake" she whispered sfotly, and her optics closed.
A few seconds later did they open when she heard the footsteps of another. Tarkah was hardly able to even realize some varg was standing right behind her. inches away. Hardly even realizing it was her son. turn around Tarkah. Turn around. The white wolf stood frozen in her state. Her eyes not moving away from her mate, until the male spoke. Andre. Tarkah whipped her muzzle around. Her eyes blinked as she starred into the youthful dragga. "Bryrpaw. my son" she whispered. She felt frail as she lifted herself from her paws to touch noses with her son. How proud she was of her son. And it was mirrored in her golden gaze, shrouded in its mourn. Tarkah looked back to her mate and her knees fell gingerly as she kneeled over the red dragga, Once more consumed in her mind.
So consumed was she that she had hardly noticed the silent arrival of her beta Phantom. Tarkah blinked only reactign to the what was to her, the faint calling of her name and a question. Slowly Tarkah returned. "Phantom..." she spoke listening to her reaction to the scene. Mouth opened but words never left. Her eyes were cloudy as she turned to look at the dark hued she wolf. And her mate's voice echoed in her mind as she listened to his words, directed to her son. The dam turned around and a smile tugged at her lips, though it was hardly noticable. Son and father were reunited.
Tarkah layed there watching before Andre spoke to Phantom. And Tarkah let otu a soft whine. She knew Andre did not see himself as a dragga. Though Tarkah still did. She nuzzled Andre and tried to smile, her gaze loving, she spoke "No Andre...you are not her dragga" Tarkah spoke softly, turning to catch a glimpse of Phantom. "you are her father, more then anything" she whispered her gaze slowly turning to Phantom. But before anything else could be said. The red dragga had fell limp. Tarkah let out a distressed howl "noo!" her golden gaze traced the male's body and she jumped up onto her shaking feet. It was as if she were trying to balance, on her four paws. "no..no Andre she whimpered. "don't leave... I need you" she cried softly, her slender stilts not able to carry her weight any longer as the arctic she wolf fell, consumed in her fears and distress.
(sorry forthe poopy post)
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Post by Phantom on Jun 14, 2006 18:30:16 GMT -5
"I'm not your Dragga anymore. I left you, and now I'm dying," Andre said, coughing blood. Phantom gasped, beginning to tremble. Visions of all the deaths she had witnessed, all the friends she had lost, flashed before her eyes. She was blinded for a moment, and couldn't speak. but Tarkah's words, words that Phantom never had the courage to say, snapped her back into reality.
Indeed, he had been a father. And a great Dragga. Phantom knew that, Tarkah and Bryr knew. All of Koran knew. Whenever Andre returned, he was always welcomed warmly. Though Tarkah had been cold to him as of late, Phantom sensed that she too, was thankful that he arrived safely. But he wasn't okay now. He was fading, like a howl in a cold, winter's night. Fading, yes, but not alone. He was surrounded by family, safe and at home. Despite his doubts, he was home, and a true Dragga.
Andre's head flopped to the earth. Tarkah cried out and sank beside him, crying his name in beckoning him into consciousness. Phantom wanted to scream, but she kept her head straight. Hysterics wouldn't help in this situation. Quietly, she bend her head, touching the Dragga's bloody nose with her own. He was very feverish, and not much breath was felt. It wouldn't be long now.
She looked to Bryr, her old friend, one of her dearest. But she could say nothing to him. Their last meeting had not been a happy one, and Phantom knew that it was her fault for assuming the worst for her friend. Her heart was screaming to him, but her mouth remained closed. She turned away, her gaze back to the Dragga, unable to look at the charcoal male anymore.
"Andre... father," she whispered, choking. A wolfish sob racked through her body, but no tears fell from her eyes. Like all vargs, Phantom wept without one tear. Inside, the Beta was begging him to stay, but she knew it was impossible now. If Andre's time had come, then they could do nothing. It was in Tor's sight alone.
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Post by André on Jun 15, 2006 0:17:58 GMT -5
Even as he fell into the darkness, André fought to hold on; to surface again. There was one last matter of business to be taken care of, and he would not allow himself to die before it was completed. The darkness swam about him as he fell, protesting this one simple thought. The void was palpable, like black velet sleaved tightly around his body, suffocating him, and choking out the last of his life. The red varg fought, and tore, and focused all of his will upward. Slowly, after ages, he began to see light again, and then he was up.
André's body and mind were in pure defiance of death. His single emerald ocular flew open for the last time, and he gazed forward piercingly into Tarkah's face. The time had come to finish it. Pain had eased to exist. All feeling had swept out of his body like water, and the varg had the odd impression that he was floating suspended in midair. He tried to shrug it off, couldn't, and ignored it, turning his attention to his artic mate.
"There is large rock outcrop in the old Frecne lands. When I die, I want my body to be taken there, and I want you to do something no varg has ever done before." His voice was calm, and clear, devoid of the previous coughs, and wheezes that had interrupted his speech.
"There is a ceremony some humans participate in after death. I have seen it many times, and it has never ceased to amaze me." A hesitant pause. "When the human dies, his pack raises him on a large stone, and surrounds him with dried grasses. They strike two stones together, and they light the grasses aflame. The body of the human burns with this fuel, and is freed into the sky as smoke. If you will grant me my one last wish, I would be freed in such a manner, at the outcrop in Frecne." His face was puzzled, and pained for a moment before he continued. "I have always been jealous of the birds, for they could soar above us all. I want to soar with them."
The pause was longer as André gathered his thoughts. Externally, much of his body had grown cold, and clammy. The infection that had burned through his body had finally given way, it's job complete. The seconds were running low on the Dragga's life.
"Tarkah, I love you from the depths of my heart. Never has a day gone by that I did not think of you. You are my mate eternally. I will wait for you beneath Fenris's light." The varg paused and shifted his gaze to Bryr. "My son, I love you as well. You have made me proud beyond my wildest dreams. May your days be longer, and better than mine."
At last, André shifted his gaze to Phantom, and spoke his final words. "Phantom, tell the pack I love them too."
And then André, Dragga of Koran, mate Tarkah, and father of Bryrpaw, passed from the earth.
/* OMFG that post was incredibly corny. >_< Ugh. I hate myself for posting this, I really do. Lmao Well. That's that, as they say. Ciao André. I'm not leaving though. I've brought Neit back to the valley, and I've started a new char, Næñuma. Btw, Bryr, post in Næ's thread, please! */
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Post by Phantom on Jun 15, 2006 18:54:38 GMT -5
Phantom eye's widened with amazement as Andre spoke of the burning ceremony. Though it was something of Man's, it seemed beautiful to her. And, if Andre wanted it, then he would receive his wish. Phantom would see that it would happen.
Phantom lowered her head as Andre said is love-filled farewells to Tarkah and Bryr, eyes closed with sorrow. But she lifted her head, ears pricked, as Andre gasped his final words. She shuddered as she realized they were addressed to her. "Phantom, tell the pack I love them too." They were his last. His head flopped to the earth, and he was no more. No longer a part of this world. His spirit had departed from it's earthbound shell
"I will Andre... I will..." the beta whispered, barely audible. More sobs choked her body. He was gone. Their Dragga was gone for good this time. Trembling, she turned to Tarkah. Phantom's voice shook, but her heart went out to her Drappa.
"I'm sorry, Tarkah..." she whimpered, looking back at the body. It was strange to see a varg such as Andre dead. Unmoving, unbreathing, flesh stiffening beneath the fur. The Dragga, or what once had been the body of a Dragga, would never move on it's own again.
"At least, not until we set your body free," she murmured. "You'll be as free as the eagles, Andre. I promise. We all promise. Free as the great eagles that climb the heavens..."
The dark brown female threw back her head, and let out a cry. The howl was full of love, loss, and sadness. A terrible, beautiful sadness. She let it float away on the breeze, then released another. This time, not only was the song mournful, but it was painfully strong, and Phantom's fur stood on end as she called. The howl soared skyward, and seemed to pass the clouds, the sun, the moon, as if it were searching for Andre's spirit. And, as the Beta cried for her Dragga, she called to all of Koran. Calling them to gather, to mourn along with them. Andre had passed, the Dragga was dead, and the pack needed to pay their last respects.
//Geeze, this is sad. I'm listening to some Native American music, and it really fits the thread. Bye Andre... I guess we'll see 'ya around. And that post was beautiful, you great twit. Tarkah, should we start a thread for the rest of Koran, so we can carry out Andre's wishes and say goodbye?//
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Post by Tarkah on Jun 17, 2006 17:47:39 GMT -5
The drappa crouched trembling, her body shaking unnaturally as she blinked. If only she could blink back tears. Perhaps then could she release the sadness in some way. If only she were able to cry. Then maybe it wouldn't stay trapt in her like such a storm raging yet unable to be vanquished or released. She looked to Phantom afraid, fear evident in her golden orbs. But in another second Tarkah heard his voice. Her head snapped back. And she touched her muzzle to his once more. She knew his infections were beyond repair. No healer could heal the wound. Tarkah didn't know if even Tor could nurse this wolf back to strength.
The arctic she wolf whined her ears thrown forward as she listened to the male's last wish. At the words Tarkah drew up a frown. She had to admit she was scared. Frightened of the way of men. But a sense of calm peaced her fears at the rememberance of Frecne. She nodded as she heard his words. Her mind racing to remember the Frecne lands. She had explored the lands many times with Demon when they were young, for Demon had been the adopted daughter of the Dragga of Frecne, Kanis.
Her mind whirled and nodded. Tarkah blinked. as free as the birds? she idd not really understand. But perhaps Phantom would know. Freed. Smoke. Fire. Tarkah whined but nodded nonetheless. She remembered the last time she encountered fire. It was deep in the heartlands of Ge rad. Where her adopted mother Zephyr had still been Drappa. Tarkah had come to visit only to find the pack bursting in flames that climbed as high as the clouds in the sky.
"okay Andre, your wish will be granted. you will soar with the flying putnar and be as free as the wind. she spoke solemnly. And with a pained look she dipped hetr muzzle and kissed him one last time. "I love you too Andre. You'll always be in my heart. And I'll look to the day when we will once again hunt in Fenris's light and look from the stars under tor's moonshine. you are my only one" her voice turned into a whisper as her golden gaze sealed itself. But they opened to gaze at the dragga, his one good eye was closed. He spoke no more.
Tarkah turned to Phantom, her expression distressed. and she collapsed int oa heap her eyes closing. "no..." she groaned, she did not believe it. Andre was not dead. he couldn't be. Tarkah stood still unknowing what to do. It was overwhelming, she didn't know if she was breathing or not. They were jagged and uneven
Then she heard her betas howl. loud and strong. Tarkah opened her eyes and watched Phantom. Admiring her strength and spirit. She has listened to her words. Free as the great eagles that climb the heavens Tarkah blinked, her mind was filled with her daughter's song. Her gaze travelled to her mates body, her muzzle touching his shoulder, his warmth was already leaving, his soul was already leaving his body. But he would not be free, not until his pretold ceremony.
Tarkah grunted and pushed herself onto her paws, with the rest of the strength she could muster she raised herself up to stand beside Phantom, and threw her muzzle up, her vocals never failed her as she released herself into the northern winds. Never had Tarkah howled such a song. Her vocals rasied in its pitch. It sang of a proud, strong dragga. A father and a lover. It sang of Andre. Her chorus weaving in between Phantom's song to call all of koran and beyond its borders to the kerls, vargs and lera of all to hear and bear. Her call soared to the heaven's aboth. As if to call for the gods.
The sun was beginning to set, but not far, was the ghostly appearence of the moon. It was only on special occasions did the moon appear in the middle of day. But here it was on this day. Tor had made her appearence. And the drappa continued to sing her song for the heavens above, and her beloved red dragga.
{yes i think that would be a good idea. lets make a thread}
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Post by Snowfeather on Aug 9, 2006 21:39:52 GMT -5
Snow gently told stories to his pups before they were sent off to bed. He told them the great tails of Tor and Fenris. Their most favorite story however was the story of creation, life. It was almost impossible to the pups that all of the wonderful things around them was created just by two wolves. Morrow, the inquisitive one asked if her sister and brother and herself were also created by the wolf gods. "All of the creatures you meet around you were made especially by Tor and Fenris themselves." Snow told them. "And they love you as much as you could possibly imagine. Just as much as your own mother and I." As he looked down, he noticed that Morrow and Faolan had cuddled underneath their mother, sleeping soflty.
"Can I hear more father?" patience asked him.
"Of couse Patience" Snow replied. "However not here, let us take a walk." They walked out of the shelter of the cave and out into the starry night. Soon the sun would be rising. As the pair walked, Snow told his daughter the tail of how Tor and Fenris sent their only daughter Sita to save them all. They walked and talked for a short while until they could hear the soft whimperings of a few wolves downwind. He ordered Pateince to stay behind him, and if anything happened to him, to run forever and as fast as she could. However, when Snow crept out of the cover of the bushes, the scene that unfolded before his eyes brought tears flooding from his eyes and pained whimpers from his mouth. In front of him was his dragga, Andre, lying dead on the forest floor. Over him lie his drappa Tarkah, and around him Phantom and annother wolf whose scent was strange to him. Snow padded softly up to the body of Andre. He beant his muzzle down and said gently "I'm Sorry i could not have been here Andre." He gave Andre a lick on the ear. A sign of respect for his dead dragga. "How did this happen?" Snow questioned. However, nobody seemed to answer him. They were in a different world now, a world of peaceful meditation on the life of such a great wolf. "Patience, come forward." he inicated his perplexed daughter behind him. 'This is the leader you never knew." He lifted his muzzle proudly as the daughter he shared such a close bond with revered the dead leader with a lick on the ear, just as her father had done. Snow laid down in the soft patch of grass at the edge of the clearing. As the sun came out, he closed his eyes and reflected on the life of his dear friend.
// GUESS WHO"S BACK?!?!??!?!//
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