Turn Your Tears To Roses

[Tourniquet]

The cool spring breeze fluttered through the deep green leaves of the trees, making many animals stir within the realm of slumber that they had entered, a few waking in response to the rise of Tor through the inky darkness of the night while she was joined by the stars, glittering softly through the black. Whispers of many things floated around, falling upon deaf and listening ears alike, many ignoring the whispers and few... so many few actually listening. A pair of pointed ears were among the few that listened.

The koran pack had long stopped their activities to sleep in this cool night, many already peacefully and blissfully unaware of their world, unaware of the lera and herla about. Many were happy in their escape of the warm but often cruel world about them, delighted to get away at least once. But one varg was not asleep, he was not able to escape the world for this brief moment in time, instead he turned his wise golden brown optics up toward the glowing orb known as the moon to man but as Tor to all varg. A frown on his muzzle as he studied the moon, his thoughts dancing as softly as the breeze around him and for a moment he closed his eyes and enjoyed the darkness it brought, but soon they opened once more and his ears flicked. So unaware of the world sleepers were, the best time of waking was at night... when nothing would disturb your thought, but there was enough to distract you from terrible thoughts. The mann smiled softly, yes.... this was the best time to be awake.


Slowly, almost achingly, the wolf moved to his paws and shook out his soft but scraggly fur. A soft sigh fled his muzzle and he once again stole a glance up toward Tor and that smile returned once again, silently he slowly began to trot off and headed to watch the few Herla that remained free of the escape of sleep move about on the cool spring night. Spotting a group of Herla he moved closer then settled on his haunches, silently watching as the few who were awake grazed silently, his eyes flickering to the lone stag with his large rack of antlers that gleamed dangerously in the moonlight then the optics moved to watch the heavily pregnant females, grazing but being cautious for their unborn little ones.

[Exerci]

. e x e r c i .

Although the sky was hued the deepest shade of black, light still spewed across the landscape. All was peaceful, all was quiet; spare for the occasional hoot of a hunting owl. If one turned their gaze to the sky, through the blackness cut the milky orb; it seemed Tor was blessing the lands below with her soft and caring touch. She smiled upon the world, welcoming sleep into the minds of the animals that went about their business during the daylight hours. When the sunlight faded, and Fenris slipped beyond the horizon, they began their resting period; glad of the comforting darkness. But there were those that longed for the fade of light and the inky blackness that ensued, those that woke at night to begin their forays, and it seemed that within one of the Koranian dens a figure began to stir.

Eyelids flickered open to reveal a pair of silvery eyes. Moonlight spilled onto her muzzle, illuminating her pale fur and bringing her seemingly colourless eyes to life. The she-wolf did not rise, she simply watched the scenery beyond the confines of her den to see if anything seemed out of place. As a scout, the female had become extremely observant, and a rabbit that had strayed into the open seemed to spot the dormant varg and disappeared into the undergrowth. It's movement did not go unnoticed, but the wolf's frown melted away into contentment as she eyed the now motionless world. A soft sigh escaped her muzzle, her eyelids shutting for a moment before she gathered the strength to rise. Slender limbs halled her body upwards, paws making little sound as she sleeked away from her den.

Although sleep's grasp was still partially consuming her, Exerci's movements were precise. She did not stumble. She did not fall. She simply walked, each limb moving with the same grace as the next. Her stride carried her away, following the general direction that the rabbit had fled in. Something told her that was the way to go, and it wasn't due to hunger. No, the femme had little appetite at this time of night, and was recovering from a recent excursion that had caused her to become slightly under-weight. It wasn't that she couldn't hunt to feed herself, but the fae had found she lacked the spirit to do so, and had scavenged. Now, back in the comforting environment of Koran, the beloved pack she lived to serve, she decided she would no longer dwell on her past. Everyone made mistakes, everyone faced hardship. There was no way she could change what had happened in her history, they only was forward was to just accept it as that. But still she couldn't always escape the past, however hard she tried. She would give up everything to just live in peace, to live just to serve and protect her pack; but things would always crop up and spoil her perfect dream.

Another sigh, in the cool air of the spring night it danced slightly on the breeze before disappating into nothingness. It faded, and the female's stride lengthened. It seemed she was not the only varg who had strayed from their den tonight. Glancing upwards for just a moment, she let a gentle smile cross her lips slightly, glad of Tor's soothing touch. It illuminated the wolf's icey-white coat, her peltage given a soft glow as she continued on her way. Even the strips of obsidian that disrupted the seemingly endless sea of white seemed lighter, but that soon changed as her path took her under a large tree. She was plunged into darkness, glad of the change but soon enough emerged again to continue her forward movement. The creature's thick fur disguised her underweight figure somewhat, making it less obvious that she was struggling to regain what mass she had lost. She was glad of her arctic heritage for that, but knew that as soon as spring melted into summer she would come to resent it.

Soon her path became clear, a solitary figure up ahead was the reason for her waking. She had a feeling she would know who it was, and indeed, she did. In the soft glow of the moonlight, the she-varg seemed almost spectral, her eyes appearing to hold no apparent colouration to differentiate from her peltage, but in such conditions it wasn't surprising. Orbs of soft silver-blue eyed the other wolf carefully, easily distinguishing him as a close friend. Tourniquet. She had missed him, and she would be glad to rest in his company. "Tourn.." Her voice was gentle and silky, barely audible above the wind in the trees overhead. She padded to his side, watching the Herla for a moment before she too rested back upon her haunches. She smiled at him softly, before silently turning to gaze at the Herla. Despite the presence of wolves, they seemed calm enough. Although the stag eyed them carefully, the wolves did not seem intent on attacking, so he allowed them to stay nearby. Soon the valley of Koran would be filled with young Herla and hunting would be easy for a while, but the stags would become more aggressive in the company of wolves.

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[Tourniquet]

A deep grey ear lined with navy flicked upon the sound of the silky voice addressing him so calmly, head turning the sikla felt a smile curve his black lips and his body, having tensed just in case the one addressing him was someone to be on guard with, relaxed immediately.Silently he watched the tiger stripped femme, studying her graceful movements, she seemed to move like water almost. But he too could tell, even with her thick coat, of her struggle to regain lost mass. But he would not question her about it, feeling she might be uncomfortable to speak of it.

So he just spoke, his voice smooth and of deep baritone but it was also monotone, no emotion was ever in his words except on the rare occasion "Evening, Exerci" He felt the dark presence, an evil he forever was burdened with, stir within the back of his consciousness but ignored it. The shadow would leave him for now, for even evil too must escape to sleep once and a while. Silently he watched as Exerci moved toward him and sat on her haunches without another word, smile growing slightly he turned his eyes back to the Herla, the stag now moving over to check on one of his does, the tenderness between was almost impossible to describe and, had he not been a varg, it would have warmed him to see such a thing.


Moonlight also splayed almost lovingly on Tourn's coat, his coat was an in between of light and dark grey consisting of only white along the muzzle, legs, chest, stomach and tail, the unusual point of his fur was the dark navy hue that began behind his ears and traveled down the spine an ended in thick darkness at the tail tip. His body was lean but built, making his hunting ability obvious to those who looked upon him. Still smiling he let out a content sigh, tail wrapping round his legs.

[Exerci]

. e x e r c i .

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A simple statement, void of emotion and monotone was all that came forth from her companion's jaws. She smiled again, lips curling upwards softly, reflecting in the tora-ge's mellow nature. She had noticed he had tensed, as if anticipating that the appraoching varg could be a threat, and true enough it could've been, but the fae was not inclined to be aggressive and that was partly the reason she had joined the Koran pack in the first place. It was plain to see from her actions that she disliked unnecessary violence, but that wasn't to say she was immune to it. Fighting was seen to be appropriate when being used for defensive purposes, or of course, suitable revenge. But other than that the fae preferred to give things simple and peaceful; there was less hassle that way - and besides, she wouldn't have made much of a fighter in the first place with such a light build. But she wouldn't curse it, because it had made her swift and capable in her own field, which was just as important in maintaining the Koranian borders as brute strength.

Two vargs of completely different hue side by side, Exerci found Tourniquet's coat intriguing. At first it appeared a normal variety of greys, but on closer inspection varg could see that his pelt was broken by navy blue, in a way similar (lthough not resembling) her own bizarre markings. Movement in the corner of her eye caused her cranium to turn abruptly, watching as the stag stirred and moved closer to one of the does in his harem. Despite the creature's intimidating set of antlers it was still capable of affection. She found herself incapable of showing emotion and although she knew that similar encounters happened within her own society, prey was prey and she could hold no sentiment for the creatures. But still, she was not hungry enough to strike one down, and that was pointless when the heavily pregnant does were due to give birth to fawns any time soon. The Koran could feast then, gorge themselves on the sweet flesh of the young. They would be in plentiful supply, and although they didn't realise the varg did a good job at keeping the Herla's population in check, and the herds healthy.

An audible sigh escaping her jaws, the tiger-striped female let the wind caress her thick peltage, glad of it's touch. It was soothing, like Tor's light, and it calmed her weary soul. But she didn't want to sleep, she wanted to stay and converse with Tourn. So here she would stay, her limbs feeling unusually heavy. Exerci finally gave in to the craving, and let herself slide into a more comfortable position, her forelimbs stretching out in front of her, and cranium coming to rest on them. She glanced up at Tourn for a moment, before letting out a contented sigh. This was paradise. Not too warm, not too cold. The lands of Koran were springing back into life, and the varg were able to watch the miraculous transformation in the land as another year began to run it's course.

"So, Tourn, what brought you from your den?" She inquired lightly, her voice still soft and higher than his in pitch. It was a simple question, but one she felt she should ask; for it was surprising that another varg was active at such times, although she had to say she was quite found of being nocturnal, for one, the heat of the day would fade, and Fenris couldn't try and murder you with suffocating heat.

[Tourniquet]

Tourn too did not know that the varg were the ones who kept the herla in check, but they also were the reason the Herla were as skittish as they were and why they started at the slightest sound, the Varg and their enemy the grizzly both kept the Herla in constant check and sometimes fear. Even the stags feared the Varg and bear but they had something to fight with, many had most likely fallen to those antlers and their twelve tines. The wolf shivered a little, not from cold but from the thought of the blood that possibly stained those deadly extensions of bone.

Hearing the she wolf's words he turned his eyes toward her, the optics glimmering in their color of liquid golden brown, an interesting color for the eyes of the wolf. Many considered his eye color as strange and mysterious as his navy stripe, but as tourn always thought, these traits were nothing special, just bits of data passed down through the genes of his family tree and nothing more. To him his stripe and his eyes held no mystery or specialness to them... they were what they were and that was that. Though many a wolf had thought different before.

His smile, which had faded within the soft moonlight, returned again as he looked to his friend. Ah yes, Exerci was one of the first pack members he had gotten to actually know and he enjoyed her company, plus she also seemed to prefer the nocturnal dwelling then to bake under fenris' heat and his humidity which he cooked you with without an ounce of mercy... fenris was not a merciful god when angered. Sighing a little his eyes traveled up to watch Tor once again, speaking in that same baritone voice of his "I prefer being out at night... it's soothing."