Gone For So Long.

[Rokk]

The day was a hot one, the past week had been full of rain, but the past few days the rain had ceased and the grey clouds had retreated into the distance. Leaving the lands to be raked by the sun. Summer was nearing, and the sun was strong, beating down its heat-filled rays with an unforgiving air on the lera and varg below. Fenris was either making up for the fact that he had allowed the rain to go for so long, or he wanted to make the most of his reign of cloud-free sky before a new storm rolled in.

No matter what misgivings the creatures of the earth might have against the unexpected, and probably short-lived, heat wave, the plants could not ask for a better time. They had warmth, sun, and enough water to ensure a fresh spurt of growth. Insects buzzed about happily, zipping from one flower to another. Trees rustled in the tantalising breeze. Which was enough to briefly take away the pang of heat for a split second for any creature sat still. But for one varg in motion, it did nothing but elevate his contempt for his surroundings.

His already brown coat, darkened at the back, was covered in grime and filth, one side of his was caked in dried blood. His proud muzzle wore scratch marks with a vengeance, and his right hind leg carried a limp, not from any recent fight though. This was an old wound, slow to heal because of his harboured hate for the pack that had given him it, along with scars both physical and mental. This mann was returning to what place he could call home now. He had been gone from it for a long time now. He only hoped his Dragga would not be too angry with him, though he saw no reason as to why he should deserve his Dragga's patience and forgiveness, for he had left silently, in the middle of the night, without word or warning, and been gone for moons. His dreams had been filled with more than the usual demons, dreams of his old pack, of his sister and sikla brother. He had left because he had been bullying them, and for want of revenge for the murder of his father. He used that as a mask to leave before he was driven out by his elders for being a bane on their lives. But recently their haggard faces had returned to him in his sleep, invading his dreams. The images were so persistant he had to know.

Rokk, for this was this particular varg's name, had never been a highly religious varg, but he had an eerie feeling that this dream harboured some truth, and he had to go investigate.

It had taken him weeks to find his way back, for he had only been a small arrogant pup when he had left. And more weeks on top of that to traverse the mountains beyong which his birthplace lay. When he got there he found his old home bare of life. Exploration led to a small cave where his entrance had been denied by a sickly looking varg...

Rokk stopped suddenly and shook his head with a vigour. Shaking away the memories of his travels. His gut growled at him, reminding him that he had not eaten for some time now. His only reply to it was to curl his lip, he was getting closer, and was not about to stop for such a trivial thign as food now.

Brown eyes raised to the skies in a quizzical manner, in his thought, he had not noticed the dark clouds rolling in. Now the wind was picking up, in the direction in which he had to go, which would make travelling so much more intolerable, without his discomfort of healing injuries he would now have to fight against the wind too? Glowering, he thought he could also spy a sheet of rain in the distance, getting steadily closer. True that it would cure his suffering due to the heat, but it would bring it's own troubles.

As the pouring rain hit him, Rokk growled and bowed his head, trudging on regardless. He wasnt going to stop now. He was so close.

After what seemed like hours more plodding on through the relentless torrents of rain, Rokk looked at his surroundings to find that he had done it, without realising it, he had made it back to Deor. The border was behind him now and all around him was the territory he had been searching for. Resisting a smile, he changed his direction a little to make for the pack dens. The rain had one upside besides the drop in temperature, the fact that he was washing away the blood and dirt. Rokk had never been an extremely sociable varg, but he figured his long absense needed some amendment..

[okamiwolf]

Lucivar always enjoyed rainy days, though it had been pleasant outside for a while, and she had been lounging beside the dens, the rain had crept up and she felt the strong need to romp in it. Her multi-colored pelt was soon drenched and stuck to the Deor Nurse’s sleek figure. It was true, BT’s place was taken by the very same Varg that had lived in her family’s old territory. Lucivar’s family had cleaned up the leftover bodies and bones of the other wolves that had been there, and they took this opportunity to create scary stories for the pups that had been soon to come.

Of course, there were a couple of big differences between Lucivar and BT as well as the similarities. For one, Civar held more color and she had not renamed herself. Her family life had also been considerably better than BT’s had. But then, the two wolves were both very kind, and both shared a love for pups. Each also had strange quirks, like the fact that they both came to Transylvania because of strange dreams. And though they never got to meet each other, it seemed that BT’s spirit had taken residence in Lucivar’s body.

Once satisfied with her play, she relaxed and sat just beneath the mouth of Deor’s den, she would dry before going all the way in and laying down for a nap. Or at least that was what she would’ve done, had she not seen a strange figure limping through the sheets of rain…

The Nurse’s auditives pricked forward, and she stood again, her pelage dripping onto the puddle that was beneath her form. She padded out into the rain with a slightly hurried pace. She couldn’t tell the scent of the other, the rain covered it with the sweet smell of moisture. She approached the Varg slowly, her tail too heavy to be held high, she squinted through the rain, though the wind was blowing toward the Mann. She smiled, softly, and her soaked plume waved behind her, she could smell Chalos, very faintly, on this wolf, he must be a member of the pack. “Welcome,” She said with her soft, rich voice, one that sounded so much like BT’s.

[Rokk]

the familiar scenary told him that the pack dens were close, and then he spotted them, but his mouth did not curved into a smile, his tail did not start to sway, and his pace did not increase like another varg's might have done. no, Rokk kept his cool composure and his limp disappeared from his gait. he would not allow himself to look weak.

a strange varg he did not recognise lay in the mouth of the dens, and Rokk's brown eyes narrowed at her slightly. she must be part of the pack. but he was wary of strangers.

his ear cocked a little at her voice. she sounded alot similiar to the nurse that had not trusted him in the slightest when he had joined this pack. she had been right to do so. for his motives for joining Deor in the first place were to keep an eye on the sikla he had been bullying. nose twitched slightly and he nodded curtly in reply. rain drenching him.

'i have never seen you about before..' he mentioned, 'whats your name?' it was not usual for Rokk to say so much when another had said so little. he was not usually a social varg. especially after a long journey...[/b]

(ooc - sorry for giving you this pants after so long... the heat has melted my brain... 0_0)

[okamiwolf]

ucivar smiled to the youth, even if he were an older member of Deor. She dipped her muzzle, low, and the sleek figure murmured a welcome home, just audible above the pounding rain. Upon raising her head again, auds against her skull and tail hanging limp, once again soaking wet with crisp rainwater. “Let us away, to the den. I shall tell you more once we are safe from this weather, and you are probably tired from your trip, I believe it would be more comfortable in there than out here.”

She moved her head toward the dens, and turned so that she was facing them, with this strange wolf at her side. Her ears perked suddenly, and her eyes gleamed with joy, a pack member, one that lived. It was good to have company. For the dens were empty and the others away somewhere without having said a word. She took a few steps toward the den, turned her face to Rokk as if to say ‘aren’t you coming?’ and was padding off again. Her paws pressing lightly into the muck.

When she was in the mouth of the den, she shook, droplets of water splaying around her, and soon her fur was sticking up in all directions. She smiled, she didn’t feel so heavy as she had before, and turned again to face Rokk. Sure that he’d followed her to the den.