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Werewolves (RP18) "How the Mountain Greets the Moon"

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Bianca looked down, at Ulric’s feet a moment.. she looked aside and debated sitting for his sake, and knew if she did she would be well coated in mud.

“Uhm-well…. You ever feel like-“ her brow knit, “-we should wash up,” she said, “Come on, let’s find a stream or something.” she reached for Ulric’s hand if he would give it to her, “Anyway …. like we’re in a kiddie pool? I mean… ” she listened and followed her sense of smell towards a stream and began walking, anyway.

“I mean, I feel like Kratos knows so much but is holding back… why do you think that is? We’re already eyeballs deep in politics… more, now. But we’re in the shallow end and trying to learn to swim..” she said, taking a path that was soft but not terribly muddy, for Ulric’s sake. “Maybe I’m the only one who feels this way..”

When the meat was offered, the quiet growl still uttered from the wolfs' throat subtly changed.

He eyed Kratos then the meat, as he licked his lips, his mouth salivating. With one cautious paw forward, and then the next, he made his way over to the meat on the kitchen floor. The offering was aggressively yanked away as the wolf quickly backed off. When he came to the bottom of the stairs, it seemed the spot was comfortable enough that the wolf began to eat.

Still his body was standing, his senses on full alert, as he continued to watch Kratos from the corner of his eye.

As Toby walked, he went over in his mind everything he had told the Alpha, silently abasing himself for the way he had worded things. After living through a quick imaginary instance where the Phantom flowers were laughing at him, the First People were shaking their heads and the mountain was rolling its eyes-- Yes, it's eyes. Big, black, rocky eyes that looked like caves from a distance and were so far apart that you'd only see one at a time.

His thoughts then returned to Dekota and Samatha. He really wanted to make up for his behavior toward the young pup. The experience had taught Toby something about himself though: He always seemed to feel that twitchy agitated feeling on the day of the full moon. He'd feel it in the back of his mind when he first woke up, and it would steadily grow throughout the day until it was unbearable and he just had to barked at someone-- Then, once the bark had been barked, he'd be fine for the rest of the night. It didn't sound normal. Maybe his wolf wasn't as tame as he thought. It certainly wasn't well trained if it would bark at a child-- Just a single, solitary bark, was still a bark. And it wasn't okay.

Toby kicked at a stone on the path.

Suddenly, he heard a snap!

Looking up, he was just in time to see a glimmer of silver shoot off into the forest not far from him. He stood rigid. If he had learned anything from watching his pack mates have emotional breakdowns and run away, he'd know the shape of a retreating wolf. ...Another intruder.

Toby sniffed the air but there was no scent. Did this wolf know how to use the flowers or was the mountain punishing him for being a complete fool in front of Kratos, and spilling it's secrets as though they were a bag of junky peanuts?

Either way, Toby was immediately uncomfortable. He started to walk again, but soon found himself running until he came upon to the cabins. There he stopped to catch his breath and looked around.

***

Liam stared up at the sky... he moved a human hand to shield his eyes from the noonday sun right over him.

When had he been laying down? He inhaled a deep breath, his bare chest rising and falling, then lifted his head a little off the ground and cast his eyes around. An audible groan escaped his mouth when he saw his sled, dashed to pieces, and the contents strewn about. He let his head and hand fall on the ground again. Did he smell blood? Perhaps the creature he had felled had been in no better shape than the sled.

Ulric allowed himself to be led by Bianca, and where? He did not know. He followed her and watched her and listened. He tried his best to keep up, more mentally than physically, for she wasn't walking very fast. Nor was Bianca talking very fast... Ulric didn't understand why it was so terribly hard to understand what she was saying, but to admit he didn't understand would be to make her feel less understood, right?

"No, uh, sure." Ulric said. He blinked his eyes and looked up and around at the surroundings, perhaps that would help. He didn't realize how faded everything in the environment seemed to be until then. Now, the vibrancy of the forest startled him. Now, too, Bianca's words started catching up to him in clarity.
"I guess," he said, somewhat dreamily. He drew a short breath and swallowed his disconnection from the world with manly resolve.

"I mean, I don't think it has much to do with politics." Ulric said, now sounding much more himself. "I don't know that Kratos would be a very good politician."
The thought was a laughable one, at least, he intended it as a joke. But was not a werewolf alpha a politician in a way?
Ulric knit his brow and watched his feet, lest he be tripped up by some branch, or root, or word...
"Anyway, I can only theorize." He concluded. The answer felt safe enough. What good would it do to doubt his adoptive brother after all these months of proving to each other that trust was warranted? What good would it do to cast shadows this late in the day?

*****

Kratos watched that wolf watching him and his thoughts were his own. He waited now on Saber to finish eating, and then see if he wanted more.

*****

Meanwhile, in the training arena, a certain wild-haired woman watched the evening sun tick silently by. It's radiant heat was felt stronger in the pit than on the rim, where a cold autumn breeze was stirring the trees.

Tiffany could smell the scents of the werewolves, and the trees, and the game. She could smell the fish and elk, and the other kills that supported the lives of the werewolves here. So, too, could she smell the presence of werewolves she had not met and could not see.

While the werewolves of the mountain tended to their own business, Tiffany casually looked at her hand and wondered if there was yet strength in it to take her secondary form.

Bianca watched her own steps and as they neared the stream, the mud could not be avoided… she wondered about her own thoughts and feelings and felt she needed to resolve what was said, but couldn’t think of any good thing to say to conceal any doubt or anger that was already revealed.

The gentle splish-splash of her feet stepping into the shallow water of the streambed was heard to break the silence, and she loosed Ulric’s hands gently. She watched the mud come off her feet and then squatted, putting her hands with their palms down in the water. A soft hiss left her lips and she watched the dried blood and dirt come off.

“I wouldn’t change it, y’know,” she said, softly, but matter of factly. “This life or, anything that happened.” She finished rinsing her hands and stood, turning to Ulric. She flicked the cold water off her fingertips and onto his face, smiling. “I’ve met some amazing people. Anyway, sit down, let’s get your feet cleaned off.” She said, using her own foot with a sweeping motion to push water towards Ulric’s bloodied feet.

Ulric surveyed the cold clear water when first they came to it. How a mountain stream could look so clear and clean despite the multitude of places it's been and the animals that used it, Ulric could only wonder at it.

"I would." He said fairly. Then he stepped down into the stream and let the gentle current sweep the mud off his feet. He set his jaw to brace himself for the coldness of it, but found the icy water brought a sense of relief he didn't know he wanted. His feet quickly felt numb to it, at any rate, and he simply let the cold abide.

"I would change that your mother vanished." Ulric said softly with his eyes downcast. "And I would change never being able to meet my real parents."

Voiced out loud, the earnest feelings that accompanied his last thought felt shameful. But as much as Ulric loved Rosa, and respected Abravious, he knew his had not been a childhood.

No sooner had Bianca’s mother been mentioned than was the thought banished, like a drop of water into a hungry flame.

Thinking about her mother hadn’t gotten her through highschool, or helped her to be there for her sisters. It wouldn’t help her be present for Ulric.

After all, still had her Grandparents, her father, her sisters. Ulric had the Svalnaglas, and his adoptive parents. The former was a painfully bitter thought, and the latter didn’t bring much comfort when measured against it.

She kept her eyes down solemnly and absently watched the mud come off Ulric’s feet.

“I’m really sorry, Ulric...”

She said. There was a long silence.

Then a giggle, and Bianca’s expression was far off. She quickly grounded herself and looked to Ulric, “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry-it’s not any of that. I just had a thought, about something my sisters and I did when we were little, and one of us was sad. It’s so stupid, but…” her brows lowered and she smiled slightly, sheepishly; “can I show you? Pretty please? If it doesn’t make you laugh, you can… dunk me in the water or something.”

The kitsune slumbered.

Or so she appeared to, even to all but her closest companion. Indeed, Ionone had slumbered more deeply in portions than she had in weeks - for ironically she had felt safer in the confines of the cement pit than she had in the forest - but in others she had slept lightly. It was her waking slumber wherein she observed abstractly the goings of the outside world, while still resting her own psyche lightly within herself. It would not give the satisfaction of a good night's rest, and yet so she could endure. Even here she would not trust herself to fall deeply asleep, however badly she need it.

Slipping once more lightly to consciousness, she detected a change in her companion. It was something in her breath, she thought, or else a quickening of her pulse. It was any number of biochemical signals, which despite her science, she could no more explain. She could only feel it deeply within the marrow of her bones.

She opened one violet eye and peered at her companion and what she looked at. Outwardly, she could see nothing amiss in the wild-haired woman. Yet deep within her she sensed some disquietude in her friend's thoughts.

Chapman's eyes drifted from the manila folder to the cabin that Kratos had entered. So long as the Alpha was thus occupied, there would be no discussion. The manila folder was replaced on the dash.

"Well..." he thought aloud, reaching into the backseat and pulling a black case up onto the console.

He opened the case. Inside was a silver pistol, and several long, silver tubes with furry poms at the end. He loaded one in and holstered the weapon, then scooched the seat back as far as it would go and, while inside the vehicle, took his secondary form. The door was opened and he stepped out, his uniform having adjusted to his new size. So he stood in black, blue and silver fur and scanned everything in sight with every sense. The scraggly omega had just run up to the cabins but he did not consider him except in passing.

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