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Post by Aveilthé on Aug 13, 2011 12:19:34 GMT -6
"There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls."
--George Carlin
Thick blankets of silver and lavender cloud whisked away into the night, leaving behind only a trace of murky grey. It was not quite midnight, but the night-beasts are already alert and active, creeping through the shadowworld with nimble, silent feet. The thick, old forest remained still, holding it's breath as they observed a white crescent moon, making it's peak in the center of the starry sky. But no creature within Koto Shoku's depths could see it. There was little light to be seen there, especially at night. The forest was so old that the canopies joined their gnarled branchy hands and twisted vines together, blotting out most of the sun and the moon.
Something lurked among the quiet beasts. Something old and wise, a bearer of many secrets and darkness. The Lady of the Night as many called her, who observed her before, but was wise to never approach. She was a beast of shadow and curses. Superstition and fear surrounded her, because of what she was. Misunderstood, yet intriguing. Perhaps her beauty was a lure for unwary souls. Perhaps she was an ugly demon inside, lying in wait, waiting to be freed.
The old forest became thicker. A jungle. The dark-pelted wolf paused on a patch of dead forest litter, lifting her extravagant wings to stretch them out a little. They ached, and so did the joints in her knees. She swiveled her bushy head, the beads in her mane clinking softly together. Two marvelous amethysts glimmered and glinted on her physique. They felt heavy around her neck and between her sultry sapphire eyes. These eyes shifted in color so suddenly. They became a soft lavender as she dropped her gaze, but when she picked it up again, they became a cool blue hue.
She could see vertical stones between a couple of wild trees in the distance, and she knew that it marked the borders of her home. The Shadowlands. Cursed, and ancient, it was a graveyard and the great rocks were the headstones of many poor souls.
"Welcome, friends, to paradise," she greeted the headstones as she entered. Though softspoken, her rich and deep vocals were still heard through the clearing. Exhausted, the old wolf swayed her long, bushy tail as she crept around weathered stones, ducking her head before entering the square entrance to a stone den. The stone den was her home for many weeks now, and it rested beneath a rocky hill that sloped sharply to the sky, it's zenith peering out of the many massive trees. Before she came there, it harbored no scent. She knew that nobody had come here for many years. She was home.
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Post by Relairah on Aug 28, 2011 23:42:24 GMT -6
The night was heavy and dark, light barely if not unable to seep through the tight-knit canopy of foliage high above. To some it might seem still, though there was still life. She wasn't sure why she had come here at the moment. Partially, she had been wandering, venturing off from Giaku to be on her own for a bit. Also, she was curious.
Ugh, she hated darkness. For one, it inhibited her abilities and made her feel vulnerable. And for another, it just went against her nature. In any case, she supposed she'd just have to deal with it for the time being, until she could get back or under clearer skies. She lifted her nose to scent the air. The smell of wolf was nearby, though she couldn't see anyone. She wondered if they would encounter each other or not.
She was the spitting image of her father, now that she was grown especially, with pinkish hues in her fur and scales along her underside. The only differences were in the three horns in linear sequence upon her back, curling toward her head where two more horns curled about her ears, and the one eye which was blue instead of red. She had dealt with much as a pup for her appearance.
Alas, she was lost. She knew that now as she continued forward, unsure of exactly where she had come from or how to get back. She remembered the scent of wolf she had smelled before. Perhaps it was someone who could help her. She began to look around, searching for the other presence.
"Is there anybody out there?" she asked aloud.
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Post by Aveilthé on Aug 29, 2011 18:18:09 GMT -6
There were soft night-sounds all around them. An owl managed to migrate it's feathery self over, perhaps curious at the young half-Druin wandering around Oracle's lair. He clicked his beak and bobbed his head several times before letting out a melancholy hoot. then he ruffled his feathers and flapped silently into the night. A few crows perched themselves on the old branches, silently watching, their red eyes reflecting from the moon.
Finally. A broad smile crept over the gracefully aging fortune-teller's face. She delicately stretched out her forelimbs, and each of her wings, before dropping to the ground with her hindlegs bunched beneath her and her forelegs crossed; one on top of the other. Wings were pulled loosely against her back, a long trail of feathers splaying out like some exotic fan behind her.
"Come in, dear, we haven't got all night," she said, in a matter-of-fact voice.
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Post by Relairah on Aug 29, 2011 19:15:01 GMT -6
Mascamora glanced in the direction of the flurry of wings and the voice, hesitating a moment. "Oh, thanks..." she murmured, following after the wolf before her. She looked around the place, a bit surprised at all she saw though said nothing. "Could you tell me where I am?" she asked simply, looking upon the other once again.
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Post by Aveilthé on Aug 29, 2011 19:30:43 GMT -6
Taking a deep breath, the old she-wolf gave the halfbreed a hard, appraising look. Yes, she looked so much like her sister's godforsaken son. Her intuition proved right once again. Deciding it best to keep that fact hidden for now, the old fortune-teller spoke.
"You're neither here nor there, but if you need a name for a place, call it the Shadowlands, where the leaves have fallen, and the ground stays broken." She smiled then, that tiny curve over the slight wrinkle of her face quite eerie and foreboding.
"Be mindful of those old stones. They're a reminder to us that though we think ourselves immortal, we are, in fact, not. Now..." She rose herself up from her position, now sitting regally. Stocky ears rotated forward with a flourish. "What do you want with the likes of an old fortune-teller?" A hint if anyone ever heard one.
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Post by Relairah on Aug 29, 2011 20:10:34 GMT -6
Mascamora listened as the old wolfess spoke, answering her question albeit in a strange manner. She couldn't help but be fascinated. Oh, this one would be a fun one to immitate, she thought to herself. But for the time being she only nodded. She had heard vaguely of the Shadowlands, perhaps. Or so she thought. Still, that didn't really give her any clue on where exactly she was or how to get out of here. Maybe that would come later.
She glanced at the stones which the wolf indicated, her ears swivelling on her head. "Right..." she murmured to herself. She gazed once more upon the other, about to say something like, "Who are you?" but instead, she was given a question. What did she want with a fortune-teller? So that's what this old hag was. She laughed in her own mind at the nickname. Her face remained completely serious. Perhaps she should keep her mind in check. If she really could see the future, who knew if she could tell what it was she was thinking or not. Maybe she was going overboard.
"Well, I didn't come here looking to have my fortune told. But if it's something you're willing to give me just because, well why the hell not?" Afterall, perhaps she could have some pressing questions answered. Like, would she ever find greatness? Or would she always be doomed to ridicule? Would she always be her sister's underling? Or prove equal to her? Would she ever find love? Or could no one love her for hate of her father? She didn't ask anything quite yet, though. Instead, she waited to hear what the old one would say.
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Post by Aveilthé on Aug 29, 2011 20:30:28 GMT -6
Oh, the attitude of this one! Very well, then. "But I am hungry... my joints ache and my wings are tired. Perhaps you could find it in your heart to grab a hare for me to bite into in exchange for a fortune or two? And I guarantee the truth, or let the crows peck my old eyes out."
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Post by Relairah on Aug 29, 2011 21:06:50 GMT -6
She raised a wolfish brow at the older wolfess. There was food here? Well she supposed that was natural. Afterall, this one couldn't live here otherwise. Well, she should've expected this she supposed. Manipulative old hag. Offering her welcome and a fortune and then turning it around on her. Well, she supposed she had no choice. She was, afterall, lost. She only hoped in doing her biddings she would point her in the right direction. Her face softened in agreement. "Alright, fair enough. I'll return shortly."
With that she left, entering the trees once again, this time putting her nose to work and letting the huntress instincts within take over. It took a bit of time, but at last she noticed some rustling in the brush. She pounced, and the chase was on. It was a quick little thing, darting among the brush, but it stopped, its beady eyes wide and its body quivering. Perhaps it was hoping it was camouflaged. She seized her chance and with a quick snap of her jaws its life was ended.
After a bit more time passed, she managed to collect another larger one and a small bird. With her collection of meat, she made her way back to the old she-wolf's den, dropping the prey before her. She hoped the wolfess wouldn't mutter something about the time it had taken. She sat back, glancing off to allow the other to eat if she so wished. "I hope it is enough for you," she said simply, though also pleasantly.
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Post by Aveilthé on Sept 5, 2011 11:02:28 GMT -6
If there was one thing Oracle knew, it was how to be patient. For many years she had been patient. Many... so she brought herself back to the ground, forepaws crossed and her head held high with ears kept erect. Her tail made a slight curl over her haunches, and her wings splayed resplendently at her sides.
When the young half-druin appeared again, with many delicacies at her stead, Oracle lowered a drooling muzzle that she tried to keep dry with her tongue.
"Ahh, you've outdone yourself, as I knew you would. Now with some strength, perhaps I could move mountains like the great god Beos. Come sit by me, my dear, you've earned a treat, too." Oracle pulled the rabbit to her, making noises of content as she started feasting. After swallowing a good chunk of rabbit meat, Oracle smiled and licked her lips clean. "Ask away."
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Post by Relairah on Sept 10, 2011 23:14:41 GMT -6
Mascamora was indeed a bit surprised at the old she-wolf's gratefulness. However she didn't show it in any obvious manner. Instead, she obeyed silently, sitting near the other as she had indicated. She was silent a moment, honestly contemplating what she wanted to ask. She had many questions pressing on her mind and she wasn't sure which she should ask first... that is if she were permitted to even ask more than one.
Finally, she parted her jaws, growing quite serious. "Well, I suppose I really wonder if the reputation of my father will always hang over my head and doom me thus, or if I will ever rise above it and prove myself as my own individual." It was perhaps a lengthy question, but she felt it was the best way to ask. Certainly, the old one would understand her. In addition, she felt the answer to this question would in a way answer the other ones also, since they were somewhat linked.
She continued to gaze forward into the cave's wall, though her senses were focused on the Oracle. Her breath was baited, she suddenly finding herself anxious, curious, and nervous all at the same time. She hoped she wouldn't receive some crap answer.
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Post by Aveilthé on Sept 11, 2011 14:08:31 GMT -6
Droplets of blood dribbled down Oracle's front. She noticed with a tut, and started fussing with her soiled fur. Young Mascamora asked her question, making a sly grin curl around her wolfish lips. She rose her haughty muzzle, ears shot to the sky. Her mysterious pools seemed to shimmer with every movement, a glorious rainbow of colors blazing as she kept quiet for a time. With Mascamora's lengthy question, Oracle decided to repay her by giving a lengthy answer of her own.
"Endymion was great and talented in his own right. Oh, yes," said she, responding to what could be a shocked response. "He was evil, very evil. But nonetheless... Empress Lacrimosa of the Vilelands in the North can never dream of being as great as you. She is tied down, busy being a leader to a bunch of ruffians, but you... you have a far more important mission. I see two paths standing in your way, making your future uncertain. One path leads to corruption, but this same path harbors overwhelming greatness. The other path leads to enlightenment and inner peace, but it also leads to much sorrow and loss. There will come a time in your life where you must choose, and that is all I can tell you now."
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Post by Relairah on Sept 12, 2011 11:25:00 GMT -6
OoC: Oh snap I'm all excited xD
iC:
Mascamora observed in suspense while Oracle seemed to be looking into her future and then came the answer. She listened attentively, soaking in every word as truth, though wary. After the older wolf finished, thoughts began zooming through her mind. So... did that mean her appearance like her fathers wasn't necessarily a curse? She supposed she really hadn't ever thought of it as anything different. Could it then be really a blessing from the gods? That is... if she chose the right direction it could be either way. Was that what it meant to carry her father's blood?
She nodded her wolfish head slowly, even dipping it to the she-wolf. Even if she out-ranked her, she supposed she did owe her some respect, being younger and all. She found herself overwhelmingly curious, desiring to know what it was to come, and what the choices would be. Yet at the same time, she also knew time itself would give her the answers she sought now. Besides, Oracle had stated it was all she could say, right?
The daughter of Endymion felt a smile creeping onto her lips. "Thank you," she said seriously, a small wag coming to her lengthy tail. For the first time in her life, she thought, she was really looking forward to something with anticipation... eager for the future. Well, perhaps no longer only seeing herself as a burden on her family or a living curse waiting to happen. But that aside... "Now, what will it cost me for directions to get home?"
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Post by Aveilthé on Oct 1, 2011 12:50:54 GMT -6
"In a hurry?" replied Oracle, smiling slyly. "You do not wish to know about who you are? Your past, your father's past... your ancestry? I know you've always wondered about the truth... you fished for answers from your bereaved mother your whole life, and yet she was... too ashamed to tell you anything."
She stood still, a swirling breeze picking up dead leaves and whisking them around her mysterious body. The graves beyond seemed to whisper a series of indistinguishable words to Mascamora.
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Post by Relairah on Dec 2, 2011 17:52:23 GMT -6
OoC: Ack! I hadn't realized you'd replied, lub! *scrambles*
iC:
She stopped in her tracks at the old wolfess' words. Oh they had sunk in and hit their mark. Perhaps that was exactly what Oracle had been intending. She looked at the older one curiously, a whole new attitude coming to her. Just who was this old wolf? And what exactly did she know? Did she really have the answers Mascamora had always sought?
She frowned, her brows furrowed. "Careful how you speak about my mother, wolf," she said first. It was true that Moria had been wary of the subject of Endymion, but she loved her mother dearly and was fiercely loyal to her. Besides, perhaps Oracle was unaware of recent things with Mascamora and her father. In any case, the old one had definitely got her attention.
"Alright then. Just what do you think you know, anyway? And what's it going to cost me to find out, hmm? If you're going to bait me with truth and with information, you better be willing to cough it up."
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