Melancholy Mysteries and Fabled Wonders

[Aveilthé]

"If only those not of the dead can see the ones they still love,"
moaned a despirited Elemmíre as he sat beneath the dark
star-strewn sky. The cold grasses were rustling about his feet
and haunches. To most, they would have aggrivated an impatient
wolf, but Elemmíre was not of the impatient sort. Let alone, he
completely ignored the grass, for his thoughts were elsewhere.
A winter's wind fell harsh about his bare nose and stung his eyes,
yet there was nothing he could do. Shelter was minimal here, but
he had to be present beneath the frigid hard stare of the stars
tonight.

"I am starting to forget... I do not want to let go... I'll never let
go of that memory," he spoke to himself, repeating these words
over and over as his mind began to cloud over with memories
of his past.

There stood a young female wolf with black pelt and soft brown
eyes that were a loving gaze from distant shadows. From
a collection of pebbles, a little whelp was playing, laughing.
The laugh was a mere echo in Elemmíre's thoughts, but as soon
as this happy memory was extant, a horrible darkness spread
through his mind and a terrible scream came from a female wolf,
followed by an abysmal shriek from the whelp.

Elemmíre's thoughts imploded by the sound of distant thunder.
Bringing him out of his reverie, he breathed in an accumulation
of air and brought his icy-blue eyes to the distance to where
black clouds were gathering, readying for a cold storm. It was
not quite cold enough for snow. The grassy field was altogether
indiscernible in the murky darkness which surrounded him.

[Kikuyoshi]

The snow that dotted the ground in small patches, glistened like diamonds under the pale moonlight, kicking up every so often like the spray of the ocean and wafting away to settle elsewhere. It was serene for the most part...a tranquil almost mesmerizing sort of view with just the hint of magick in the air.

Within the swirling fragments of snow, a sort of hallucination began to grow, the snow seeming to gather into one spot while hovering above the ground, then to simply explode outward in a soft breath of air and produce the shape of a very curvy but skinnyimage of a wolf. All in all, it's overall appeal was breathtaking and quite stunning, however one could easily tell it was not of this world...a spirit perhaps?

Its movements, as though dancing, seemed to sway and shimmer ever so lightly as though it itself were a trail of winter wind. Closer it drew, it's tail sweeping back and forth and sending out soft wisps of what looked like smoke, eyes like the stars themselves glittering under soft brows.

Gently it circled, ears drawing back as a soft "bark" was produced, vocals rich and light enough that no other being or thing could possibly try to emulate it. Carefully it settled upon gleaming silver haunches, bushy and wispy tail curling about it's legs, watching as though waiting for something.

[Aveilthé]

There was a sudden chill in the air that Elemmíre had not felt
before. It was as if a sudden presence cast a coldness that made
the many hairs along the wolf's spine stand on end, its very
breath blossoming frost on his nose. As it was already cold
moments ago, the sudden freeze made him wary. Slowly getting
up onto his paws, he turned once. A startling sight forced his ears
to swivel upward. An unearthly bark was emitted from the sight.
Elemmíre shivered.

Before him was a spirit of sorts. He had seen one before, but
nothing so alluring, so bewitching.

His voice was breathless. "Spirit... why have you graced your
presence on our plane?"

[Kikuyoshi]

A smile graced the features of the spirit seated before him, cranium tilting ever so slightly as if to say that it wasn't about to give him the answer so easily.

Rising to stand as smoothly as a dolphin breaks the surface of a wave, the shimmer of a vision brushed past Elemmire, tail flitting ever so briefly just under his chin. Gazing over it's shoulder, eyes glimmered softly before it bolted, mouth open to push forth a truly haunting and bewildering howl, urging him...no, daring him playfully to follow after.

[Aveilthé]

Elemmíre knew already that the spirit wouldn't answer him. It was
just like the rest of them, too unreal or more real, perhaps, to
even respond. The last encounter he had with a spirit was only
brief - once he called out, but the spirit kept moving, unhindered.

He jerked back so that he could not feel direct contact with
the ghost. With every approach of it, he could feel it's chill growing.
And then it bolted away from him, issuing a haunting cry, but
Elemmíre did not move. What trick is this? He would not follow
something not of this world. Spirits were known for their tricks.
Whether it meant ill towards him or not, something in his gut forced
him to stay put.

And yet, his curiousity got the better of him. He would inspect
this ghost more. Slowly, he walked in the direction the spectre
went, keeping his distance - he did not want it to think that he was
following.