we've missed you in our sleep..., + all welcome!

[Kitawni H'Skiarth]

breaks my heart to see you hangin' from your shelf OOC: sorry for the late reply, girls. >: i've been sick and have had zero desire to write anything, let alone creatively. but i'll try my best with this one. --------------------- --- -- - ---------------------------------------- Hardly in the pursuit of anything greater than a light scolding, the eldri didn't intend on nipping at Seneca any further in the coming moments. Everyone deserved a chance to show for themselves. Anyway, it always was in a dominant's best interest to lay down the law, tooth and claw, before warming up. She knew this much from her youth... however short and fleeting it had seemed. Wearied, she let a fleeting memory scathe the beats of her mind -- being the high priestess of the Plains, scoring the land with the prints of her paws, head tilted back and laughter a'spew. Hamlet and his dribble that, somehow, she had enjoyed. Now, she was... here. The valley, encrusted and encircled by behemoth rocks, was something to be thankful for. "It is the best way to test an old friendship," she chided lightly as the trio came to a pause. Her tail gave a few slow wags, content yet most definitely sluggish, in praise of Seneca's expeditious response. Had the eldri heard the mental ramblings the subordinate wolf's mind, she would've had a good chuckle. Who made the right names anyway? "Best of luck... don't pick anything red." The final statement, while a trailing murmur, was the very best advice she had for her packmate. Red was the colour of war and the hunt. She did not want to be involved with either, at the moment. Once Seneca was a chocolate streak, Kitawni padded into the den only to drop shamelessly into its embrace with a great heaving sigh. On her back, she rolled, letting the knots of the earth ease out the knots of her muscles. "Thank you again, elsku vinur. I can't tell you how long I've been waiting for this sort of thing..." A forepaw was hung midair before her so that her eyes, the ever quarrelsome duo, could examine it. Overhead, Vorelyn wheeled in circles, ones that became continually smaller, until he found himself perched atop the den's entrance. No sooner had he landed did he dart, a lightning flash, at something amidst the moss. When he pulled up his thick, dark beak a small vole hung from it, already limp with death. He gurgled his prize down with a grin of victory. "Glutton," she teased glancing over at her daemon. "I'm sure Xerxes has twice the manners of you."

[Gennae]

I hope you feel better soon! <3 life is like a box of chocolates A smirk ran across the white lady's face as Kitawni mentioned red things. Such a peculiar creature her friend was, and so glad she was to have her back in her ranks once more. It was strange, because Kitawni had only ever been a shroud wolf for a month or so; and back then, it had been called silver valley, still. But other than that the plains-lady had been a friend and companion even when she ruled the plains; a task that Gennae herself had entrusted her friend with. After watching Seneca leave, the shroud's alpha turned back to Kitawni and waited for her to enter the den, then too moving into it. A smile played on her features as Kitawni made herself completely at home. It was a right she had to the fullest. Her duo-toned eyes danced onto Vorelyn as he duck down, Xerxes following hers exactly. "Oh," she said as Kitawni directed the words towards her daemon, "He doesn't have that good manners. Probably just seems like that because no one can hear him." Xerxes hissed at his wolf as a smirk played her duo-toned features, just teasing him. Gennae then continued towards the plains-lady, "I'm glad you're home." She had yet to tell Magaei of the return of Kitawni, a wolf she may or may not remember. Kit' and the plains had been around in the days of the plateau, when Magaei had resided there, but had the two actually met before? you never know what you're gonna get

[Seneca]

out of character. Ok I lied, I'll bring her back in my neeeeeeext post. I can't bear to make this any longer xx; in character. As Seneca left the sight of the eldri and the stjornandi, she felt herself relax and her breathing ease. She had immediately liked the two wolves despite their stand-offishness and their we'regrumpyoldladiesness. In fact, she liked them because of those factors, among others. Even so, there existed still a tension between her and them that kept her set on the edge in their presence. But now she was away from them, and she was plant hunting in order to assist them. This was bliss. The young female ran for a while, deftly leaping about and around the rocky slopes that created the path to Gennae's den. Her own den was fortunately not far from her alpha's, and it was there she needed to go first. Her golden eyes fell upon the trove she had collected near the back of the den. Her brows narrowed thoughtfully as she nudged through the myriad of leaves and roots she had collected already. It was her emergency supply. The young female had dried them by laying them upon a rock in the sun and created small compartments out of the rocks to store them in. These were less potent than they were when they were fresh, but they still did their job. Seneca sniffed at them, her mind working swiftly to analyze their benefits and weaknesses, trying to pinpoint the best approach to taking care of Kitawni. She had a plan already in her head, but she never felt ashamed of second guessing herself. She had to be certain. She had to be precise. The young wolf made a lot of mistakes throughout the day, every day, but this was the one area she refused to err in. After deliberating for a few minutes, the tagl stepped back from the plants, satisfied and confident with her decisions. She made her way back out the den, stopping briefly at the mouth to snatch up an odd-looking bowl, crudely made out of bark and hardened tree sap. Without an extra mouth to carry things, it was all she could come up with to assist her in carrying and mixing her concoctions. The tan female spent the next while running along the edge of the river, stopping briefly every so often to add another leaf of green brown or red. She was like a little girl, skipping along, collecting flowers in her easter basket. Only she was a wolf, throwing ripped up grass and bits of moss in an ugly bark bowl.. thing. As her hunting came to a close, the minutes found her sitting beneath what she had deemed "the big floppy tree". Her bowl was filled with a mixture of grass, pine needles, and sap, and she was crushing it together using a rock that she nudged around with her paw. As she finished, she leaned down to sniff at her concoction. Not quite right. She lifted a piece of bark in her mouth and set it against the trunk of the tree, letting the sap that was dripping down it collect on the tip of her makeshift spoon, which she then dripped down into her bark bowl and began mixing again. The tagl had shifted this mixture to the side to make room for the moss she had mashed up into a thick lumpy cream for Kitawni's foot. Fortunately, she had collected enough to heal her own wounds. In her battle with the tree for its sap, the tree had its fair share of blows that had taken their toll on Seneca as well. The long cut along her forearm where a splinter had sliced through was smeared with blood and moss mash. The mash had a sort of numbing affect, so Seneca barely even noticed it was there as she concentrated on the herbs. She rarely got out of collecting tree sap without a cut or two. The few small cuts she normally got just banded together to create one large mega cut this time around. Seneca's warm amber eyes poured over the contents of her bark bowl. She was satisfied and confident, yet again. Only one thing was missing... The brown wolf grinned at the edge of the river that flowed along only a few feet from her. She hopped lightly to her feet and padded to the edge of the water. The water was cool and clear. She could almost see straight through to the bottom. Not really, but it was a very pleasant way to think of a river. Here fishy fishy fishy... Golden eyes scanned across the water for a ripple on the surface that stood out. A whisper of a movement. Her nose was dipped so far down it was almost touching the surface. Tiny drops splashed onto the brown muzzle as the water skipped along. A skip. Seneca snatched at the water with lightning speed, A snarl broke out of her throat as she snapped at the body she knew was right there, just beneath the surface. Missed. Seneca pulled her head back, her face now wonderfully wet. Huh. Again! There it was. She recognized the smallest glimmer that gave the unsuspecting creature away. Another snarl, another lunge, another snap of her bone-crushing jaws. Missed. The tagl dropped back onto her haunches and stared into the river with water dripping from her chin. This was hardly a fair fight. The stupid whisker fish obviously had the homefield advantage. Seneca was playing on unfamiliar ground! She demanded her handicap! Hopping to her feet with re-intensified vigor, she growled as she waited for the bastards to slip up again. One splash. One ripple of movement where it made no sense to be. There. Yet another snarl, yet another lunge, and yet another snap of her bone-crushing jaws. Missed. Somehow, a little while later found Seneca moving quickly across the Shroud with a bark bowl and two whisker fish, as she deemed them, clenched tightly in her teeth. She normally would have been nervous that someone was going to see her like that, but not this time. The young wolf was on a mission. She had a life to save. Well... She had a life to... helpnotbesickanymore.

This post has been edited by Seneca on Dec 14 2008, 12:14 AM

[Kitawni H'Skiarth]

breaks my heart to see you hangin' from your shelf Letting a forepaw drop towards her charcoal lips, a kiss that surely would leave some coughing, she preened bits of discomfort from between her toes: pine needles, lumps of moss, and sharp threads of grass. Little did she know it was this sort of verdant mish-mash that Seneca was out retrieving at that moment. All she knew was that there was nature and it was impeding with her step. A laughing eye rolled over onto Gennae after the eldri felt satisfied with her work. "I wonder why I didn't get a silent one," teased Kitawni, all too aware that Vorelyn was most definitely still within earshot, "I guess the gods know full well as I do that I don't listen to silence..." And that comment she polished off with a final gurgle of giggles although they were short-lived and shortened by a dry, unhappy cough. She frowned. "I'm glad I'm back too, Gennae. I cannot wait to meet the rest of the pack... meet the rest of my family." The expression the wolf wore was bright despite the darker demeanor her sickness seemed to carry. Still, threading her hope like a insidious vine was an inkling worry. How long would she last? "Anybody I should know of? Young whipper-snappers you need me to bark back into shape? Hell knows I'm in need of it. Too bad no one's half as old as we are. Y'know I had a kid while I was gone? Sickly process, birth..." And so, the two carried on soft conversation until the herbalist's arrival. By then the sun had begun to sink, creeping quietly yet hastily, further into the mountainous horizon. The ominous evening colours brought with them ominous evening cool. Kitawni was then grateful to have Gennae in her company, whom she had quickly turned into a bit of a pillow. A warm, self-sufficient pillow. "Bring me back gifts, pup, or more toe lint?" The warm-hearted merriment within the wolf's voice was hard to ignore. She had, from the time that Seneca had left and returned, found herself feeling... well, real again. The substance of her soul, as if having temporarily vacated itself during her journey to the Shrouds, was now making a steady comeback. Although it took a moment, the eldri spoke again but this time with a sharper, distinct tone of motherly worry -- cleverly disguised as displeasure. "You get into a scrap too, kid? Can't you keep on your paws?" She could smell dog blood amidst the sticky sap stuffs and limp fish.

[Gennae]

Had to peek into the joining archives to see who joined after and before Kit *grin* i used to rule the world It was good to see Kitawni slowly turn into her old self; or maybe an improved version of such, the female seeming in an overjoyed mood. Rest, however short, could do wonders to a wolf, make it its former self entirely again. Gennae nudged the eldri's shoulder as they spoke more of daemons. The subject soon turned into that of the pack; probably because there was little to tell about Xerxes, and so the conversation would turn into a monologue if they'd try to tell interesting things of their daemons. At the mention of family, the stjórnandi smiled. She didn't realise Kit's worries; she herself didn't feel the same, despite the growing age she felt young and energetic still. "There's a few old members. Magaei - she used to live at lucid plateau with Sinistrah until lastmentioned disappeared and then she lead the shroud alongside me for another year." Time seemed to go so fast, and it was unbelievable everything was now so seemingly long ago. "Shakadyn, also from the plateau. Kratina, she used to live at dawning hollow, a pack created after your departure. And my son, Jökull." Little did she know her other children would also return soon. Did Kitawni even know of her litter, her three children of whom one remained now..? It had been so long ago, Gennae didn't remember who had been there. ".. And some new wolves, like Seneca. But nobody who needs an asswhooping, so far." A smirk danced across the white's features. She'd ask about that birth-thing later, wondering if Kit's children were still alive; but now was a time to rest and joke, not to ask annoying questions that might upset the eldri. The alpha gave her friend another nudge and then sat next to her, being abused as a pillow. But she didn't mind. The affection was somehow nice. As Seneca returned, the ivory queen turned to face the den's entrance. At Kit's jokes she merely grinned, and waited for the medic slash botanist to work her magic. Even though she'd joked about ginea pigs, in fact it was Kitawni who was such. After all the stjórnandi would love to see if Seneca was as good as she didn't appear to be. From the outside she seemed to be chattery and all talk but not much more, however the stjórnandi knew like no other from her experience that wolves often didn't turn out to be who they seemed from the outside. seas would rise when i gave the word

[Seneca]

As Seneca approached the den, her nerves began to twinge again. She clamped her teeth a little tighter onto her bark bowl, lowering her head as she padded through the entrance and her eyes set on Kitawni and Gennae. She nodded to the two of them and set down her things by Kitawni, grinning at the edlri's teasing. "Does toe lint not make a good gift these days?" Seneca's tail wagged softly. She was happy to see that Kitawni was feeling better, atleast in spirit. As the female pointed out her shoulder, she stared curiously back for a moment before she remembered that she was even wounded. She peered at her shoulder and grimaced. It looked much worse than it actually was all smeared with stuff. The female's amber eyes jumped back to Kitawni and she smiled again, "Don't worry, I beat the tree in the end." With that, Seneca pushed the bowl towards Kitawni and set to work, pointing with her paw to each concoction she was talking about in turn, "This mixture here, I'm going to need you to make sure you lick your plate clean with this one. I can tell you what's in it if you like, but I have a feeling you wouldn't," Seneca grinned again, "I have to warn you, it tastes awful and some can't stomach it, so once you're done, if you're feeling queasy, just chew on this root here," Seneca glanced briefly at Gennae, wondering if she would recognize it. It was the same root she was hunting down for herself when the Stjórnandi found her at the peak. "It's kind of sweet. Not all together great, but a hell of a lot better than the other stuff." Seneca peered at Kitawni, seeing how she was taking the instructions. After a moment she figured it didn't much matter--she was in too far to stop, "After you've taken that, I just need you to dip your foot in this stuff here. It numbs as it heals. I mixed up a bunch of it so you can just keep using it whenever you start to feel the pain coming back. And if it doesn't hurt, once in the morning, once in the evening, to keep out infection and fix it all up again." Seneca paused once again, wondering to herself if she'd forgotten anything. She looked at the contents of her bark bowl, checking everything off in her mind. "You can eat the fish whenever you like. The oils in them are good for you. Make your coat nice and shiny and things like that. And they taste pretty damn good, in my opinion." With that, the young female fell silent.

[Gennae]

writing a conclusion quick ^^ i used to rule the world Kitawni could barely answer to Gennae's words before the botanist returned, and the alpha watched as the kid did her job. Her tail flicked from left to right as if in warning; this better be working. Of course at this point she didn't yet know the miracles the medic would be able to perform on her little cousins, and with that all her grudges would be forgotten. The alpha listened quietly to the words exchanged between the medic and the eldri and the things that were done. All this time Xerxes was surprisingly absent, merely lying around without seeming to care much. When things had been done the alpha mentioned, "Kitawni needs her rest now," and her tail flicked another few times dangerously as she watched Seneca leave the den and leave the two be. As if she was reunited with her sister, Gennae put her head on Kitawni's back and drifted off into sleep along with the sick wolf. Selfish as always, the alpha put the pack's health at stake by bringing in a sick wolf; but she didn't care. Her friends were worth more than her pack, however strange it was. She had never claimed to be a good alpha, but she was loyal to those who she felt deserved it. Wolves like the eldri. seas would rise when i gave the word