Call in the Night //Cwen//

[Shakó]

//Sorry, I'm really crappy at tread names.//

The days were getting colder, not to mention shorter. Bare trees swayed in the bitter dry wind, promising snow ahead. The sky was now a royal blue, as Fernis began to take his trip beyond the mountains, letting Tor come out and play. Bright silver and white stars began to twinkle in the sky, showing the great Draggas and Drappas that have passed before.

The evening was still, all was calm, until the dried and withering leaves began to crackle carelessly under the heavy weight of white paws. Out of they dying brush came a large male warrior, her bright gold eyes now reflecting a vivid blue as Tor began to appear. His paws were weighed down with a burden, one he no longer wanted to heave around.

War was coming, and it was Shakó’s duty as a warrior to protect his pack. Not only his duty, but life’s job. He wanted to protect his pack, and the ones he loved. But this is where the burden came along. Shakó sighed, sitting on his white haunches, the cold ground touching his rear end. A shiver worked it’s way up his spine, as the male lifted his muzzle to the sky, his occulars focused on the heavens above. “How did you get like this,” he asked no one inparticular. “Why did you have to change? And why does the enemy have to be you?” Shakó’s insides squirmed, he hated being so disconnected with his blood sister. He hated what had happened to her, and he hated that he could end up possible in a fight with her.

It was tearing him up inside, his sister. Shunké meant the world to him, for she is his blood. It was because of her that he was separated from his birth pack, and has found one so much greater. That he was not brainwashed, to live under Talken’s rule. And now he had to fight her? Possible end up in death? Shakó shook his ivory head, he would never hurt his sister. He would never fight her.

But what got him the most, is why so many Vargs curse her, once they here of her pack. Shakó had no idea what lay in it’s boundaries, why she would chose such a pack. A deep growl slipped from the male’s throat, could this be the work of the Dragga? Of why his sister had become so. . . Different? Shko couldn’t stand wondering any longer. He wanted to know what sort of pack Sarnes was, what could have possessed Shunké to such an apparently terrible pack. As Draeg told him, the only one who really knew what lay in the pack’s scent lines, was his Drappa. Cwen.

His nose to the sky, the male opened his maw, letting a long, deep howl arise from the pit of his stomach. A call to Cwen, his Drappa.

[Cwen]

As the stars dappled the great abyss above and Tor sent out her milky glow across the forest of Transylvania, a large grey and white pelted varg stalked the lands beneath the static canopy. Large pearly white paws padded through the light layer of snow that had fallen across the paw trodden tracks within her pack land. Her tail was held rigid and her thick coat bounced healthily on her powerful form with each gait she made. Her belly bulged at the rims, if only subtly, to show a sure sign that she was pregnant and was now a moon at least away from giving birth.
Troubling times had made the faemme restless and disturbed her sleep frequently – the main reason now why she had taken a midnight strole through her territory. After a constant day of scouting her borders, Cwen figured she was in for a good night’s sleep…but alas it was not meant to be.

Letting a deep and heavy sigh pass through her leathery black lips, the Drappa’s steely grey gaze looked up to the skies as she began to seek out Kop, her beloved previous mate. Draeg had gave the fae great hope in telling her that the Balkar male was in the starlit path above where he watched over her. Spotting him quickly, directly above her moving form and glowing brightly, Cwen sighed and spoke misty and mysterious words to the ebony night. “Please Kop, give me guidance through the war. I know that I am fighting against your pack…a pack who even now after your murder I’m sure you would still follow and respect gratefully, but I need your help. If only to protect my precious family and keep them from grave harm…please…” she uttered softly, desperately.

However her prayers to her passed mate were quickly interrupted as a long note broke the silence and reached her attentive auds. Growling deeply she slowed and lifted her own muzzle to the skies, scenting the area swiftly until realising that the call had been for her and was one sent from Shakó, her pack’s lead warrior. Cocking her ear for a moment with curiosity, Cwen then allowed her hind legs to spring and she leapt forward into the brush, biting back the pain that rang through her spine and chest from an injury she’d gained roughly a moon ago.
Springing through the trees, the silver Drappa came to an abrupt halt when the sight of the ivory male came into view. Growling hesitantly she peered back and forth to realise that the two were alone. Cocking her head in confusion she approached the male and flicked her tail in thought. “You called Shakó?”

[Shakó]

White auds stood alert, somewhat exited to see if Cwen would answer his call. He fidgeted his large ivory paws, his white tail flicked impatiently. But after a moment, the hustling of leaves brought a low growl, and the sight of a silver fae, his Drappa, Cwen.
Shakó quickly dipped his head in respect, showing his loyalty. Regaining his poise, Shakó noticed the bulge Cwen carried, foretelling pups ahead. “Hello, Cwen;” he said in a casual tone. “May I first offer my congratulations on the pup,” he added in a more positive note. Dipping his head again, Shakó’s vivid blue oculars spied upon irritation amongst the Drappa, possibly an old wound; one Cwen must have obtained no less than a moon ago. Curiosity burned within him, of what in the world happened to the silver Drappa. But Shakó bit back his words, he thought it wise not to ask to ask such a possibly sensitive question.

“Cwen,” he stammered, not knowing where to begin. “As you know, dark times are ahead of us. The war, as we are allied with Deor, against the Balker, allied with Sarnes.” Shakó shook his head, for he was not looking upon such a dark time. Still, he continued. “I do know of the Balker, a pack made up of fierce Draggas. But it’s Sarnes-” the words caught in the ivory male’s throat, for it was painful to think what has happened so recently. But Shakó had to find out what happened, he had to know. There was no point of stopping his words now. He had got the begging in out. Shaking his head, the male started over. “My sister, Shunké, rests in Sarnes-” he began again, still hesitantly. “I don’t know if you knew her or not, but perhaps- perhaps you know what lies in the packs boundaries.” Shakó paused, shuffling his paws for a moment, before continuing. After all, he had got most of it out, but still, the words burned in his mouth. “I guess what I’m trying to ask, is what the pack consist of. My sister, Shunké, was once as sane as me, and the most timid pup I’ve ever meet. When I joined Ge-Rad, at the time when Bryr was Dragga, I saw her once more. She seemed happy, as I can recall. But, as I’m sure you have heard, not to long ago- she came back. She wasn’t the same- her coat was thin and dull, she was thin and malnourished; but what scared me most of all- the madness that seemed to overtake her very soul.” The young Warrior wined, his words still echoing in his head. “What,” he asked again, “what could have caused this change? What lies in the pack, which she thinks she belongs to?”

//sorry, crappy post, had to hurry//

[Cwen]

((Just so you know, Cwen's injuries are internal, incase you make a mistake and actually mention them as if you can see them, heheh))

With the congratulations on her un-birthed litter, Cwen got a slight shock as she’d forgotten to mention the new arrivals to the rest of her pack. But smile gratefully to Shakó she nodded kindly and sat back on her haunches as he began to stutter out words that, at first, meant little sense to her. Curling her brushy tassel around her hind limbs she licked her maw and perked her auds – taking in all the words he spluttered so as to piece them together as he came to a final conclusion.

Shocked at the mention of Sarnes, Cwen’s lips began to twitch into the beginnings of a snarl as her steely grey hues darted from the ivory male before her and gazed around the thick vegetation which surrounded the pair – just incase there were any other alert ears taking in the same words.
A deep growl escaped her muzzle as he concluded and she got to her paws slowly, padding towards the male and sitting by his side close enough that their thick pelts touched and her head was able to turn for her to speak quietly enough that only he could hear her. “You do not join that pack Shakó unless you have good reason to. If she was as happy as you said she’d been, or as healthy and timid…then there would have been no way for her to even come close to considering such a pack to join,” she mentioned first – knowing that she herself had not been the most sane of vargs nor the most timid. In fact, she had already lost most of her sanity and was lusting to meet vargs of the same mind. Though hating most of the members within it’s ranks, she still saw the place mildly as a home…that was before she became pregnant and thought it an idea to stir up some trouble within the pack. Of course, this was before the silver faemme had a pack to get into trouble or the thought occurred to her that Huts might want to fight back. Only then was it she realised how bad an idea it had all been and how much trouble it would cause her not just temporarily, but for life.

Growling again she peered out across the ebony silhouettes of trees and then back onto Shako’s icy blue hues (that is right yes?). “The land is dark and grimy, surrounded my swamp lands that are haunted by a ghostly, skeletal wolf. She is as rotten and smells as bad as the vegetation that grows within the lands itself. Not pleasant. The prey is few and to be able to hunt in such damp conditions takes a lot of skill unless you find carrion amongst the marshes. Your sister’s mind might have been poisoned before she considered entering the pack land and to follow in the steps of Serg…but once being in those lands it is unlikely she’ll see a better side to life,” she spoke grimly before sighing and looking up at the moonlit skies above.

She may have been wrong, for Cwen did not know Shunké and had only really heard of her this night. But from Cwen’s own personal view of the pack, her theory might have just been as close to accurate as any varg would gather. Still staring into the skies she breathed out words and observed the mist spiral in plumes from her parted muzzle into the darkness of night. “Don’t hold me to this theory please Shakó. For knowing my luck, which is not always the best, I could be completely off track to why your sister turned out this way…”

[Shakó]

((Crap, sorry, I’ll fix that. But yes, Shako’s eyes glow blue in the darkness, like a wolf or dog if you shine a flashlight on them at night))

Shakó lowered his head, his blue oculars upon his ivory paws. He hoped so much that it wasn’t his sister’s choice to enter in the pack, but it didn’t look that way. Shakó shook his head, how she came about this madness, was still unknown; and only, if even, Shunké was one to know that answer. To get into such a horrid pack- your average everyday sane wolf wouldn’t be accepted, like Cwen said. She had to be Tainted before then. That means, Serg most likely did not make her the way she was now, that he didn’t mess with her mind. “But he never helped her, either,“ Shakó growled to himself.

Now he knew, why she looked so ill- most likely because of the scarce of prey. Well, at least that’s what he convinced himself to think. His vivid blue oculars clouded over with memory, as the horrid look of what used to be his sister filled his mind. Her coat was dull, but her eyes, at that instant, glinted with madness, as she began rambling to nothing but the forest. The look upon her face- the glint in her eyes- it was impossible to explain.

Shaking his large white head, his memories were pushed into the back of his mind, as the ebony face faded. “I still can’t believe, it’s just horrible. Who would want to live in such an utterly disgusting place? I mean-” but looking back at Cwen, he instantly shut his white maw. He just remember that she, too, used to live in the pack’s very boundaries. “I’m sorry if I offended you,” he said at once, as an apology. “I didn’t mean to offend you- or anything.” But the truth was, he didn’t know if he did. Curiosity peeked over the Varg again, as he wondered why she had left the pack, or even joined. But at the same time, his curious mind led him to another question. “Cwen, can I ask you something? You left, right? Isn’t it possible, Shunké could open her eyes to the pack, and also leave?” he asked, deciding not to mention how she came into the pack.