How Do You Measure Life

[okamiwolf]

Cracked pads pressed down against a frozen ground. Early morning sunlight trickled through the branches of trees, now bare and dead to the world. The only thing left of them was their numerous looming shadows and the gnarled roots clawing over the ground, threatening to grab you and pull you below the surface of beautiful life. All life was suspended it seemed, unchanging, unmoving. The plants were gone, the lera were mostly sleeping, if not scrambling for the last storage of food before they would have to hibernate for all of winter. So it was no wonder that this was one of the most disliked seasons. Winter, holding it’s death grip over Transylvania, would usually only be fought back by the sun, and though the sun did shine, and it wasn’t quite cold enough to snow yet, or there wasn’t any moisture in the air, it was still quite harsh. The ground was hard, and a thin layer of ice seemed to cling to everything be it frost on the ground or sheets of ice over the water.

In all this death, in all this frozen world, there was one. A slender silhouette weaving around trees, in and out of shadows. Following a path that had been worn, trampled many times before her, crushed beneath the feet of so many creatures, bears, wild cats, but mostly, and the one that stood out the most here, was the wolf. There were so many scents covering the ground here. And this path that she followed was the border of a pack known as Deor. Even if she’d yet to see it herself, the shadow, a lean multi-colored she-wolf, was planning on making a visit to this place. It had a faint, but familiar scent hidden amidst all of the others, so strong, so filled, such a strange concept during winter. This place seemed to be almost living, but still the trace of inactivity lead her to believe that it wasn’t so excellent in this pack’s world. That they were having difficulties trying to locate members. Lucivar’s strange eyes shimmered as streaks of dappled light fell upon them. Blue sparking to vibrant life, and the shapes of brown that made her eyes look as if they were the earth itself began to shimmer and shine with clandestine excitement.

A pelt of white, cream, tan, brown, and even black, gray, and mahogany wavered with the breeze as it teased over her back, caressing her chin like a comforting nuzzle and begging her to lay down and sleep, whispering sweet nothings to her as demons of ice tried to pull the fae into sleeping so they might chill her down to the bones in her body. But she resisted the strange sensation of tomfoolery that was the games of demons. She refused to lie down and sleep, she wanted to visit Deor, she wanted to meet the Dragga of the pack and see what he was like. She’d heard good things from mumbling groups, but figured it better to investigate this herself. Tentatively she stopped at a lovely clear patch between the borders and the land that belonged to Deor. She lifted her sleek creamy, tan bordered muzzle to the sky, maw parting and releasing alto based music into the quivering air.

It was a call of Tratto’s blessing. One that meant she was here in peace and not for confrontation, and as her note carried higher and higher over the land and drifting into the thicker bracken of the Deor lands, her plume began to lower and ears pinned back so that they were situated comfortably on her head. She ended the song and waited. The last note fading into the sunlight that was cast over the grounds, she hoped someone would come soon, anyone. Beta, Dragga, and whatever other pack wolves that were lingering near. She wished to meet them all and see how tight knit they really were.

[tristan]

A thin layer of frost dusted the land in a shimmering coat of tiny crystals that glittered gently beneath the rather cold, harsh glare of the sunlight. Nothing beneath that fire-laden gaze breathed, not even the wind today. The air which had settled over the packlands was brisk and cold, and despite the season that was winter, hardly any snow lingered on the bare earth for the land was parched and the air was dry. No precipitation, no moisture, nothing. It was as if everything had shriveled up and died like the skeletal, grasping fingers of the deciduous trees, any color the land obtained was radiated from the evergreens and other conifers, but even their color seemed eerily supressed amoung the grays.

Sightings of the entire pack together were rare, the youth of the social structure of Deor concluded as he wandered aimlessly over the terrain, feeling the chill of the dirt as dry leaves cracked beneath his pads. In fact, the Varg couldn't remember a time when he had seen more than three together including himself. But the reddish-hued dragga youngster also rationalized that this could be due to the war, as everyone may be simply wandering as he was now, thinking and contemplating what battling the Balkar and Sarnes could mean. Not that this youth, dubbed Ingo, did not trust the GeRad, their allies in this battle, nor did he doubt their ability to fight. He worried for his other packmates; his family.

Frantic nightmares and worried thoughts about everything had often left Ingo wandering aimlessly with a wrinkled brow. And even as he melted between the trees of the forest, his head was hung as he watched the earth pass beneath his paws, trying half-heartedly to get his mind away from those thoughts for just a moment, a small glimpse of peace where he did not feel so heavily weighted with the burden of a battle. But nothing he seemed to do worked, and just when he began mulling over those ideas again, a miracle seemed to ride out of the depths of his misery on the sound of a quite melodic harmony rising above the trees to wash the Deor lands in its splendor. His auds perked instantly, and Ingo pitched himself forward into an easy lope, realizing that his enemies would not have called Tratto's Blessing.

He was nearing the borders and the meadow as the call subsided, pale golden optics broing into the thick trunks of the trees as if staring long and hard might some how enable him to achieve x-ray vision. His nasal flared as he collected a drappa's scent, and analyzing the myriad of information made it clear that she was indeed not one from the Balkar or Sarnes, or anyother pack for that matter, but a Kerl. His confidence rose and his fear abated until they balanced, and worry settled into his gut and subconscious edges of his mind as he rounded a bend of trees to see another wolf, shaded with the brilliant and appeasing colors of the earth along with other hues that were unique. His growl was friendly as he approached and his eyes were warm. Deor was a peaceful pack for the most part, and Ingo, although tense, was willing to accept any company.

"Hullo stranger." He barked out, trotting closer until he stopped a few paces away, thick tail swaing to and fro gently as his ears flicked. When he stopped, Ingo dipped his head politely and leaned forward and down; a bow of sorts although not exactly so elegant or stiff. He blinked at the newcomer with an inquiry, "Mightn't you have a name, or do you come with certain business to Deor? I am known as Ingo."

[jaqco]

A young gray brown he-varg wondered the frozen terrain of Deor. His short slim body easily trotted over the icy ground, with sure confidence. His slender head was held at ease, and his unusually pointed ears swiveled with every passing sound. The gray fat tail behind him was not raised, nor lowered down behind his haunches. It was somewhat in-between, held out as a rudder to his movement. This came naturally to the hybrid, for he still had some coyote instincts in him.

But the young male was not heading in any particular direction. In fact, he was simply taking a stroll, wondering if he would meet any pack mates on the way. The terrain had been silent, for a war with the Balker and Sarnes had rallied many unrested hearts. But the good thing, was, they would be fighting amongst their allies, Ge-Rad.

Jaqco knew little of Ge-Rad, but from the Dragga Draeg and Beta and Healer fae Lydair, Jaqco only had a positive liking for the rather large pack. For if Chalos held alliance to the pack, that was more than enough to set the young male’s mind straight.

The call of Tratto’s Blessing disturbed Jaqco’s thoughts, snapping him out of his daze. His paws ceased to move, as Jaqco wondered who it would be. Giving a mental shrug, Jaqco began to run, his nostrils flaring as he both inhaled the cold morning air in, and the scents it carried. He could certainly catch a waft, the scent of an unknown faemme, and the familiar scent of Ingo.

Picking up his pace, Jaqco soon came upon the outlines of a multi colored fae, and the reddish hue of Ingo. Slowing to a walk, Jaqco padded towards the two, completing a triangle. “Hello, Ingo,” Jaqco replied to the red wolf, digging his head in greeting. “It’s nice to see a familiar face. And a new one, too,” he added, as his brown orbs darted to the stranger, as he gave a warm smile, once again dipping his head.

[okamiwolf]

Nose pressed to the ground once her song had fled the world. Lucivar familiarized herself with the strong and overpowering scent of Deor. While she waited it would be wise to pick out how many wolves really were here. She found about ten particular scents, one of them recently marked, probably belonged to the Dragga of this strong and righteous pack. She glanced up as she heard rustling of dead bracken and the sound of a greeting. She smiled, dipping her head gracefully and elegantly, in a very feminine manner and smiling before lifting her head, though tail would lower.

She stood quite for a moment. Civar had heard more sounds from beyond the shelter of the dead trees and few living conifers. She smiled as another pup appeared from Deor. It was a comfort to know that youth was held within the boarders of the pack. She dipped her head again to him, her smile shifting to form a grin, then disappearing so that she held a neutral disposition. Something she would do often in case coming upon any unfriendly Vargs. She didn’t like to make enemies, so she would sometimes change her personality to match her companions.

“Greetings Ingo, I bring Deor a gift of a friend.” She said with a smile. “I am Lucivar, Varg of the northern territories.” Her eyes were cold, and yet filled with warmth and kindness all at the same time. The chilly gaze was due mostly to the strange color of blue, almost crystal, and yet the patches of brown earth that shimmered in her oculars made them the most unique part of her, not to mention a favorite quality. “Might I ask whom you might be, and where the Dragga is?” She could tell by this youngling’s scent that he wasn’t the Dragga, and he was too young to take hold of this pack.

[tristan]

Ingo glanced over his shoulder toward the sound of bushes rustling and for the briefest of moments, his senses became acutely alert and he readied his claws in the earth, but before any movement of his could be registered by another, he grinned and wagged his tail softly as a familiar face pushed through the bracken. It was Jaqco. Ingo nodded in response to his friend's statement and turned his peircing gold gaze back toward Lucivar, wariness bordering on the edges of his otherwise friendly eyes. "Pleased to meet you Lucivar, and I'm glad you bring friendship.

"As for where our Dragga, Chalos Autumn wanders now, is beyond me. I have not seen him for many suns." But Ingo did not wonder as to why. The upcoming war was a difficult thing to grapple with when the members of your own pack were small in number. His hackles rose slightly as he thought of the members and his family of Deor and what fighting could possibley mean; the fall of Deor as a pack, there were so few of them now as it was. But he mentally shook his head, and his eyes which stared into his remote thoughts, focused back onto the chilly landscape that was the homeland of Deor. Those were not thoughts to be pondered on. He grinned slightly back at Lucivar although his gaze this time was slightly more hostile than it was before, although not noticabley so. She could possibly be a spy, and he did not trust her as he normally would have trusted a Kerl that had wandered onto the packlands had it been before the mention or whisper of a war.

[okamiwolf]

Lucivar smirked, the light in his eyes showed clearly that he was suspicious of her intentions. She was quite for a while, waiting to see if the other pup would mention his name. Of course he didn’t, but that was fine, she would never force someone to do something that they didn’t want to if they didn’t want to. Her gaze traveled back to Ingo. “I see, you have little faith toward me, and I must wonder, as to why you are so suspicious of me. Are you a scout?” She blinked, her slender legs taking her back a step as to get a better look at the two pups before her. What she really wanted to do was know the pack. See if it had the right qualities that she was looking for. She hadn’t been here too long, and only heard the name of Deor once or twice. Supposedly it was to be a wonderful pack.

Her plume swayed behind her, though lowered it didn’t stop her mobility, and though Lucivar wasn’t quite sure why she was so happy, she just smiled and let her tail have a mind of it’s own. But the thought crossed her mind that maybe she was happy to see such young faces here. To know that this pack had youth in it’s borders, it was at least a little enlightening. Her cold eyes seemed to soften, melting into the warm chocolate flaws that made her eyes seem like they were little Earths. Yes, it had to be that reason.

[Chalos Autumn]

A shadowy bulk marched along, silhouette visible against the horizon, though instead of the usual submissive pose, this creature carried his head and tail high whilst he drew closer to Ingo, Jacqo and Lucivar, truly a proud varg. His posture was not in vain - this male was the Dragga of the pack whose ground he tread upon. It was the first time in weeks he'd laid a single paw on Deor territory, for he had been out to Ge-Rad, begging alliance for the upcoming war; his trip had not been in vain. Now, however, Chalos looked more rugged, now heavily bulked from days of running and restless travel.

Tired eyes of gorgeous emerald stared curiously towards the strangers.. One had the essence of Deor's most recently deceased, Bent Time, their loving nurse. The alpha had grown to love her, and his heart seemed to break when she'd left him.. Truly, most of the days he'd spend from Deor were in mourning, crying and bellowing wicked songs of heartbreak and sadness in secluded areas where nothing but the skies could hear his calls. A weary sigh blew out from his maw, and Chalos took on a friendly stance, bowing his head to the newcomers whilst his voice left his lips, "Ah, guests.. Welcome to Deor - I apologise for my absence; there is a war in the process of being created.. I was away on business. How might I, as the pack's Dragga, assist you?" Even through the demolished world that was his love for B.T., he still maintained a caring, gentle way.

A slight depression found its way into his sage occuli, and a deep growl of greeting was sent towards Ingo. The small male had been a member of the pack for but a week or so before his Dragga up and left - no announcements, nothing.. In truth, Chalos wouldn't have been the least surprised if his pack accused him of abandonment, for his un-notified leave wasn't much difference, other than the fact that he had faithfully returned to his pack.

"Ingo.." He started, lowering his head in honest apology. "I.. did not mean to leave Deor wondering. I figured it would be best to go without any notification, but now I realise that it would have been better to give the pack time to prepare for my return and learn how to grow stronger and hone fighting skills, etc. Fortunately, I have returned at the perfect time to bring my pack back together." Chalos had returned, stronger and more knowledgeable than ever - Deor was ready to prepare for war.

Edit: [Ooc: I POSTED OMG YOU LOVE ME RIGHT?!111 ]

[okamiwolf]

Earthen gaze traveled from the two youngsters before her to the approaching, ruffled bodice of the Dragga. Lucivar’s eyes glistened with excitement and she couldn’t conceal an enthusiastic, low bow of respect to this wolf. “At last, I am glad that I caught you upon your return. I could’ve waited I suppose, but I admit that I would have been downhearted.” She paused to raise her head slightly and assume a very open submissive posture, her neck clearly bared and her tail now tucked between her hind legs. “Anyway, my name is Lucivar, and I am a Kerl at the moment.” She felt a need to announce what she was and her business. “I have come to learn of Deor, as I would deeply love to become part of a family. However, I also like to visit packs before and see if the members and, if I may say, the Alphas of the pack are just and lawful. Yours has been the first I have heard of, though no doubt there are many more.”

So far she liked it’s members but as she heard Chalos’ speak of war her head cocked slightly. She now understood why Ingo was suspicious. The three-year-old could be a threat in his eyes. She had never before been seen around these lands, and of course, she was new to Transylvania and thus a possible spy in his eyes. She understood perfectly, he would make a lovely warrior in future times, possibly even the near future. She tried not to listen to his last few words, attempting not to eavesdrop, but it was just so easy to hear him talk of how he recently returned and how sorry he was. It was nice to see how dedicated this Dragga was to his pack, to leave and create alliances and then return with deepest apologies. She was already impressed with this Chalos and with his pack. He seemed so kind.

But something was gnawing at the back of her mind. The other reason she’d come here, but she couldn’t quite remember now. It seemed like she had only been looking for a possible pack to join, but now she could clearly smell it, on him. The scent that she’d been following it was on him as well as around the territory. That was why she’d come here too. She could very well see the nightmare that led her to this world, this the Land Beyond the Forest. She was searching for that particular scent to know what happened to the family of wolves that had once lived here her mother and father now claimed. “How many faes reside here?” she couldn’t help asking. She couldn’t quite describe the scent. But it was sweet. “I am also searching for someone you see. But I don’t know her name. You see, lately I’ve been having these dreams of a silvery and black wolf…” she paused again, unsure if to continue or not. She herself wasn’t sure if she could trust this pack yet, and she had already been inclined to say quite a bit. She wasn’t so sure when she’d become so talkative.

“Well, this wolf I believe used to live in a relatively small pack and I keep dreaming that it is… Well… Killing it’s pack mates.” Lucivar stopped again, wondering how this disturbing dream would strike these three wolves. Her bright eyes closed for a moment and she could clearly picture it, but when they opened again she noted the sorrowful glimmer in Chalos’ eyes. She stopped talking, and almost thought that she was holding her breath waiting for any response at all. Waiting to see if anyone of them might have information about this wolf she’d kept dreaming about.

// YAY! Prais Chalos for Posting!! And you already know that I love you. \\

[Nocturnia Diiore]

Ooc: Aw! -cries- She's talking about B.T.! Oh, B.T., I knew you'd bring the subject up! -whacks her, toddles off to post elsewhere and to wait for either Jacqo or Ingo.- <3

[tristan]

{sorry to keep everyone waiting. I've been busy lately and my posts are definitely lagging in anything interesting. Anyway, be ready for a terrible post...}

The youth, about to reply to Lucivar's question, closed his jaws and turned to gaze at the well-muscled and inspiring figure of Chalos approach them. Ingo dipped his head and averted his eyes immediately, but he grinned and showed every means of respect that was due to his Alpha: his submission and loyalty. The young dragga nodded as Chalos spoke of the arriving war, but did not speak or interrupt, realizing that she must not be a spy or any creature of the like that would side themselves with either the Balkar or Sarnes. When she spoke, he heard that truth echoed in her words, and, although he could not bring himself to be too much more open hearted, his eyes did not reflect the same faded, lingering hostility, and his smile was more pronounced.

Ingo's attention however, was diverted from Lucivar to Chalos as he spoke a sincere apology. Ingo blinked in surprise but nodded, "You did what you had to, I can't hold that against you. We'll do our best to learn swiftly and follow where you lead." He replied, not looking directly at Chalos but slightly at an angle. After a few moments, a voice caught his ear and he turned to look over at Lucivar. For a moment, Ingo had to think about that, then glanced over toward Chalos, unsure if his number was correct, "Two I believe." He shrugged, and looked back toward the fae. He hadn't seen Temira or Loki in ages. The rest of her words however, he left Chalos to answer.

When Ingo had joined Deor, he had heard of a fae that resided here by the name of Bent Time, the pack nurse and loyal comrade. But unfortunately Ingo had not had the opportunity to meet her, and so had only an idea about the drappa that Lucivar sought. All Ingo could do was wait and hear a response.

[okamiwolf]

^{She gazed at Chalos for long moments, but her attention was soon seized by the younger Varg, Ingo.} He was so respectful, it was a very good sign that Chalos was indeed as strong and imposing as he looked. But those eyes of his. They really attracted her to him, though wolves rarely looked at each other in the eyes, she admittedly stole a glance or two, just to see what color and what was hidden within them. Her own eyes held a flaw of brown splotches on blue, a shimmering ocean with continents floating upon it. They sparkled with the life that she held in her heart and soul, the mystery that was her constantly revolving philosophical mind, and even the kindness that she held secret in her heart.

Lucivar tensed, it was hard to wait patiently for such a question, especially since she might finally discover something, anything about this strange dream wolf. Maybe even a little about the wolf itself and why she was dreaming this horridly gruesome picture. Now her eyes glimmered with hope, a pure hope that her question would finally be answered, and her search finally done. Maybe she could finally rest here, in this land of Transylvania, in peace without the nightmare rearing it’s ugly, and yet beautiful head.

//Gotta bring this back to life.\\