Werewolves (RP19) "What the Moon Has to Say"
Quote from Adriana on June 28, 2024, 12:54 am"I can't. I told you, I don't know." the words can't and know were emphasized with an irritated twitch at her the edges of wolfish lips. Bianca did little now to hide her agitation, in spite of the openness of it. She didn't care if Jackie piped in-in fact, she wished she would; she'd have some place to direct all the anger.
But, with all bets on the table, what more was there to do except talk?
"I didn't ask to be born into this." she spoke, in a quiet, strained way-trying to reign in her tone. "Nobody here did. Most of us should be in college, and our biggest worries should have been graduating with good grades, or finding a date before the Holidays, and staying up too late playing games or watching movies with our friends." she tried to smile off the sentiment, and waved her paw, "We all had to give that up, because we knew better. But he,"
Her blue eyes sharpened and her muzzle wrinkled along the bridge of her nose, and she glared towards the pit,
"-acts like we have a choice. He acts like he's the only one here who's a victim, and like it's our fault he's in this situation. He gets to act like his life is over, and hides in his room all day feeling bad about it. I didn't get that option! I was ELEVEN! I had to become my sisters mother, and I've spent the last decade pretending like MY world didn't end!"
Every word seeped with jealous ire, and was aching with sorrow. The more she spoke, the louder her words became, until they were almost a snarl-or a growl-not entirely human, and not beast. Her hackles were bristled; every passionate word brought forth warm air into the cool night. Her white teeth shone in the light of the clearing, and her cheeks were wet with tears that she didn't bother to rub away.
"I can't. I told you, I don't know." the words can't and know were emphasized with an irritated twitch at her the edges of wolfish lips. Bianca did little now to hide her agitation, in spite of the openness of it. She didn't care if Jackie piped in-in fact, she wished she would; she'd have some place to direct all the anger.
But, with all bets on the table, what more was there to do except talk?
"I didn't ask to be born into this." she spoke, in a quiet, strained way-trying to reign in her tone. "Nobody here did. Most of us should be in college, and our biggest worries should have been graduating with good grades, or finding a date before the Holidays, and staying up too late playing games or watching movies with our friends." she tried to smile off the sentiment, and waved her paw, "We all had to give that up, because we knew better. But he,"
Her blue eyes sharpened and her muzzle wrinkled along the bridge of her nose, and she glared towards the pit,
"-acts like we have a choice. He acts like he's the only one here who's a victim, and like it's our fault he's in this situation. He gets to act like his life is over, and hides in his room all day feeling bad about it. I didn't get that option! I was ELEVEN! I had to become my sisters mother, and I've spent the last decade pretending like MY world didn't end!"
Every word seeped with jealous ire, and was aching with sorrow. The more she spoke, the louder her words became, until they were almost a snarl-or a growl-not entirely human, and not beast. Her hackles were bristled; every passionate word brought forth warm air into the cool night. Her white teeth shone in the light of the clearing, and her cheeks were wet with tears that she didn't bother to rub away.
Quote from Mae on June 28, 2024, 2:26 amKratos' features were softened by the crumbling away of Bianca's anger. With it's sharp cracks and biting edges it revealed it's true name and Kratos saw grief for what it was.
Is it true that misery needs company to be consoled? Or, in the light of revelation, is misery more isolated when compared one beside another? There is no contest in defeat.
Kratos was moved by Bianca's tears, and steadily sank down on his hocks to meet her in the eyes yet again. His arms came undone, and his elbows rested on his knees.
"Bianca, you are dangerously close to the edge," he warned her in a voice that was so soft and steady and firm that it could sink to the marrow of the bones of anyone who heard it.
In not much time, the moon would rise. The werewolves would lose what power they had over the change. The result would be to fall upon natural instinct, and what is more natural than emotion? Pain speaks loudly, and reason falls to silence.
"In every one of us there is a beast like Timothy, trapped in pain all of the time. If you give to it, it will never give back. It will only take you with it."
Kratos' features were softened by the crumbling away of Bianca's anger. With it's sharp cracks and biting edges it revealed it's true name and Kratos saw grief for what it was.
Is it true that misery needs company to be consoled? Or, in the light of revelation, is misery more isolated when compared one beside another? There is no contest in defeat.
Kratos was moved by Bianca's tears, and steadily sank down on his hocks to meet her in the eyes yet again. His arms came undone, and his elbows rested on his knees.
"Bianca, you are dangerously close to the edge," he warned her in a voice that was so soft and steady and firm that it could sink to the marrow of the bones of anyone who heard it.
In not much time, the moon would rise. The werewolves would lose what power they had over the change. The result would be to fall upon natural instinct, and what is more natural than emotion? Pain speaks loudly, and reason falls to silence.
"In every one of us there is a beast like Timothy, trapped in pain all of the time. If you give to it, it will never give back. It will only take you with it."
Quote from Adriana on June 28, 2024, 11:21 amIf she could see herself, looking at every inch like a wild animal in a woman's garment-her hackles high and her torso appearing twice it's size, hunched forward on her knuckles as if ready to run, or fight...
Bianca's eyes, sharp as pinpricks on the fence behind Kratos, moved to him when he spoke. That deep, heavy voice penetrated beyond the physical realm-it gently jostled Bianca's soul as does a waking touch from a deep slumber. The world came back suddenly into vivid focus, as though a curtain was lifted.
The sharp angles of her face of her face softened.
"....How long ago was it that you lost her?"
"About twelve..... I’ve really come to terms with it, anyway."
"I just want them to be happy, Kratos. To hear them laugh. It feels impossible."
It was indeed the first time she acknowledged her pain out loud. For so long, she had taken on every day as if nothing had happened; she got her sisters ready for school, and brushed their hair. She made them breakfast, and hummed them to sleep. She went to school and hung out with friends, a bright smile and well groomed face hiding the festering abscess in her soul. The more she was pressed to address it, the more responsibility she took on, until she was near to breaking; then she would learn to bear that weight and add more.
Little did she know, she could not give earnestly what she did not possess, and likewise could not in earnest receive the warmth of comfort and affection with a guarded heart.
Wounds of the soul, like wounds of the body, do not do well neglected in the dark; it's better to put air on them, although it may feel brutally painful.
She didn't hate Saber. She hated that he reminded her that it was human to feel, and to suffer. Here among strangers, he expressed his emotions, but even among her family Bianca had never been brave enough to bare her heart.
Bianca shrunk down and whimpered the name of her Maker, and the anger melted into sorrow.
"I never got to say goodbye," she said, and groaned with her head low. One arm was tight around her waist and the other gripped at the cloth over her heart. "It hurts so much.."
Her face was still twisted, but no longer in anger. The tears came freely, and the pain of loss and hardship was exposed-no longer hidden in the veil of anxiety and fear, or that of rage.
If she could see herself, looking at every inch like a wild animal in a woman's garment-her hackles high and her torso appearing twice it's size, hunched forward on her knuckles as if ready to run, or fight...
Bianca's eyes, sharp as pinpricks on the fence behind Kratos, moved to him when he spoke. That deep, heavy voice penetrated beyond the physical realm-it gently jostled Bianca's soul as does a waking touch from a deep slumber. The world came back suddenly into vivid focus, as though a curtain was lifted.
The sharp angles of her face of her face softened.
"....How long ago was it that you lost her?"
"About twelve..... I’ve really come to terms with it, anyway."
"I just want them to be happy, Kratos. To hear them laugh. It feels impossible."
It was indeed the first time she acknowledged her pain out loud. For so long, she had taken on every day as if nothing had happened; she got her sisters ready for school, and brushed their hair. She made them breakfast, and hummed them to sleep. She went to school and hung out with friends, a bright smile and well groomed face hiding the festering abscess in her soul. The more she was pressed to address it, the more responsibility she took on, until she was near to breaking; then she would learn to bear that weight and add more.
Little did she know, she could not give earnestly what she did not possess, and likewise could not in earnest receive the warmth of comfort and affection with a guarded heart.
Wounds of the soul, like wounds of the body, do not do well neglected in the dark; it's better to put air on them, although it may feel brutally painful.
She didn't hate Saber. She hated that he reminded her that it was human to feel, and to suffer. Here among strangers, he expressed his emotions, but even among her family Bianca had never been brave enough to bare her heart.
Bianca shrunk down and whimpered the name of her Maker, and the anger melted into sorrow.
"I never got to say goodbye," she said, and groaned with her head low. One arm was tight around her waist and the other gripped at the cloth over her heart. "It hurts so much.."
Her face was still twisted, but no longer in anger. The tears came freely, and the pain of loss and hardship was exposed-no longer hidden in the veil of anxiety and fear, or that of rage.
Quote from Adriana on June 28, 2024, 11:52 amLiam turned his head and watched the striped wolf leave, but his attention was on the conversation ahead of him.
Although the Alpha's voice was not directed at him, he felt the effects of it, and the was aware of and inspired by the change it brought about in the young pack member.
He had seen too many members of his pack caught on that same precipice-how with a misstep, they would be thrown down a slope too steep to return atop.
When you forfeit your humanity, you forfeit the courtesies, laws and compassion that are owed to the nature of man. Liam knew this well, and had the scars as evidence of it. In greed, in anger, in loss of human consciousness-he had gone to battle with so many who had cast their most precious gifts aside for something so much less. Like the man in the Caribou song, they could not see what was most valuable to them, and traded it eagerly for that which could only bring them suffering.
The ways of the beast are untamed, and he does not care for language, nor that which can be expressed in it-he cares to please only his instincts and to satisfy his most primal desires. Where a gentle word can coax a man from a place of hurt or anger, a beast only finds motivation in fear, hunger--for all of his appetites--and violence.
Liam believed it a rite of every individual who walked their path to some day look down the same precipice Bianca had just grappled with. Whether it was born of pain, or the temptation to give in to all the freedoms one perceived in disassociating with humanity, it seemed at some point the choice was put before their race.
"If you give to it, it will never give back. It will only take you with it."
The Alpha knew this, as the wise words communicated well and surmised simply yet profoundly all of the thoughts Liam possessed on the matter.
Inspiration was lit in his heart, and he knew he could learn from this man.
Meanwhile... Tiffany's earnest singing moved the stranger, and while the Alpha had commanded him to stay, he did not command him to silence. The song of the prisoner had worked alongside the Alpha's great voice and firm words to draw Bianca from her place of pain, and Liam believed music had the power to unite and heal. After all-did not the birds sing, and the wolves howl, and even the tiny crickets communicate in song?
With a long hum, that grew louder and steadier as it progressed, and danced with Tiffany's tune while holding fast it's own path-Liam let his voice be heard. The voice that escaped when he opened his mouth was twofold; although he formed words with his tongue, it was in a language that could not be interpreted by humans alone, but the undertones like a howl and a recurring bark seemed to convey a message.
"Come and share your song," he sang, low to high, "let your hearts beat together;" high to low, and again, "let your voices rise as one, let your fathers hear your call."
"Our way is hard and long, yet together we find joy; let no man take your pride, let no man lay you low."
"Join your brother in the hunt, join your sister by the river. Join your mother in her voice, join your father in his rhythm..."
He sung in fervent verses, with each rising in falling against Tiffany's lighter tune. He beat the flat length of his hand into the dirt and gravel with steady pace.
Liam turned his head and watched the striped wolf leave, but his attention was on the conversation ahead of him.
Although the Alpha's voice was not directed at him, he felt the effects of it, and the was aware of and inspired by the change it brought about in the young pack member.
He had seen too many members of his pack caught on that same precipice-how with a misstep, they would be thrown down a slope too steep to return atop.
When you forfeit your humanity, you forfeit the courtesies, laws and compassion that are owed to the nature of man. Liam knew this well, and had the scars as evidence of it. In greed, in anger, in loss of human consciousness-he had gone to battle with so many who had cast their most precious gifts aside for something so much less. Like the man in the Caribou song, they could not see what was most valuable to them, and traded it eagerly for that which could only bring them suffering.
The ways of the beast are untamed, and he does not care for language, nor that which can be expressed in it-he cares to please only his instincts and to satisfy his most primal desires. Where a gentle word can coax a man from a place of hurt or anger, a beast only finds motivation in fear, hunger--for all of his appetites--and violence.
Liam believed it a rite of every individual who walked their path to some day look down the same precipice Bianca had just grappled with. Whether it was born of pain, or the temptation to give in to all the freedoms one perceived in disassociating with humanity, it seemed at some point the choice was put before their race.
"If you give to it, it will never give back. It will only take you with it."
The Alpha knew this, as the wise words communicated well and surmised simply yet profoundly all of the thoughts Liam possessed on the matter.
Inspiration was lit in his heart, and he knew he could learn from this man.
Meanwhile... Tiffany's earnest singing moved the stranger, and while the Alpha had commanded him to stay, he did not command him to silence. The song of the prisoner had worked alongside the Alpha's great voice and firm words to draw Bianca from her place of pain, and Liam believed music had the power to unite and heal. After all-did not the birds sing, and the wolves howl, and even the tiny crickets communicate in song?
With a long hum, that grew louder and steadier as it progressed, and danced with Tiffany's tune while holding fast it's own path-Liam let his voice be heard. The voice that escaped when he opened his mouth was twofold; although he formed words with his tongue, it was in a language that could not be interpreted by humans alone, but the undertones like a howl and a recurring bark seemed to convey a message.
"Come and share your song," he sang, low to high, "let your hearts beat together;" high to low, and again, "let your voices rise as one, let your fathers hear your call."
"Our way is hard and long, yet together we find joy; let no man take your pride, let no man lay you low."
"Join your brother in the hunt, join your sister by the river. Join your mother in her voice, join your father in his rhythm..."
He sung in fervent verses, with each rising in falling against Tiffany's lighter tune. He beat the flat length of his hand into the dirt and gravel with steady pace.
Quote from Indy on June 28, 2024, 1:03 pmJacqueline Ryder was silent.
It might have surprised her more than anyone else. At how many places might she had a quip? At least a dozen. They had started to amass within her, a thousand little burs that would escape her lips before she could think better of them. Poor you, was one, dripping in condescension. Life sucks, get over it princess, was another. Each voice in jest, but each voice hiding her own weaknesses.
How many times had she snubbed Bianca's suffering? It seemed many. In her darkest moments, it had been Bianca who yearned to extend her understanding. In each, Jackie had dismissed them as futile. How ironic was it, she who had been often underestimated, indeed had underestimated Bianca for all the appearances and airs she presented: the pretty little blond girl who baked snacks like the 50s housewife with a tray full of cookies and always had advice to spare. But Jackie should have known better than to believe it.
Appearances were easy to form. She had fabricated her own in that lazy smirk to anything that hurt her. Bianca had pretended to care just as often as Jackie pretended not to.
She had tiptoed the edge long enough to see it. Kratos was right. She could sense Bianca's mind, edging along the side of a cliff, where below plummeted sharp spines. If she fell, how would she ascend once more? Certainly, she could, but it would be far, far less challenging not to fall at all...
As the voices drew to crescendo in song, Jackie found she couldn't hear them at all. All that rushed in her ears was the sound of her own heart, in tempo to the song, and the sound of Bianca's.
She held out a hand, hovering by Bianca's shoulder.
"Hey. Let's take a walk".
She held out her hand full-well knowing it would be more likely bitten than accepted- but offering it nonetheless, in honor of all those who had offered it to her over and over again.
Jacqueline Ryder was silent.
It might have surprised her more than anyone else. At how many places might she had a quip? At least a dozen. They had started to amass within her, a thousand little burs that would escape her lips before she could think better of them. Poor you, was one, dripping in condescension. Life sucks, get over it princess, was another. Each voice in jest, but each voice hiding her own weaknesses.
How many times had she snubbed Bianca's suffering? It seemed many. In her darkest moments, it had been Bianca who yearned to extend her understanding. In each, Jackie had dismissed them as futile. How ironic was it, she who had been often underestimated, indeed had underestimated Bianca for all the appearances and airs she presented: the pretty little blond girl who baked snacks like the 50s housewife with a tray full of cookies and always had advice to spare. But Jackie should have known better than to believe it.
Appearances were easy to form. She had fabricated her own in that lazy smirk to anything that hurt her. Bianca had pretended to care just as often as Jackie pretended not to.
She had tiptoed the edge long enough to see it. Kratos was right. She could sense Bianca's mind, edging along the side of a cliff, where below plummeted sharp spines. If she fell, how would she ascend once more? Certainly, she could, but it would be far, far less challenging not to fall at all...
As the voices drew to crescendo in song, Jackie found she couldn't hear them at all. All that rushed in her ears was the sound of her own heart, in tempo to the song, and the sound of Bianca's.
She held out a hand, hovering by Bianca's shoulder.
"Hey. Let's take a walk".
She held out her hand full-well knowing it would be more likely bitten than accepted- but offering it nonetheless, in honor of all those who had offered it to her over and over again.
Quote from Adriana on June 28, 2024, 1:41 pmBianca looked up at Jackie, with her ears back and head low, her neck drawn in close to her shoulders. Sitting back on her haunches, she was a head shorter than Jackie even in this form. She looked at the redhead's hand, and then her face, and her uncharacteristically soft features.
The blonde wolf bypassed Jackie's hand and crumbled into her torso with her head tucked against Jackie's stomach. The trembling mass of blonde fur shook her head and continued to cry.
Bianca looked up at Jackie, with her ears back and head low, her neck drawn in close to her shoulders. Sitting back on her haunches, she was a head shorter than Jackie even in this form. She looked at the redhead's hand, and then her face, and her uncharacteristically soft features.
The blonde wolf bypassed Jackie's hand and crumbled into her torso with her head tucked against Jackie's stomach. The trembling mass of blonde fur shook her head and continued to cry.
Quote from Indy on June 28, 2024, 1:56 pmJackie had anticipated being bitten, Bianca fleeing into the night, or being verbally assaulted.
She had not anticipated being huggable and approachable - and what was more, to be presently wrapped around someone twice her weight. Certainly, no one would rank Jackie highly on an approachability scale (outcompeting only a bear). But as Bianca was given no better alternative, she could do no more than reciprocate the gesture. She wrapped her arms around Bianca silky smooth shoulders as the girl shook- then briefly, contemplated when the last time was that she hugged someone.
She couldn't recall. Somewhere, there was a hazy memory of clutching onto Melinda at the cabins, yet it had never equated a hug in its purest form... she brought her fingers gently on Bianca's shoulders, stroking the soft fur there.
It felt nice.
Jackie had anticipated being bitten, Bianca fleeing into the night, or being verbally assaulted.
She had not anticipated being huggable and approachable - and what was more, to be presently wrapped around someone twice her weight. Certainly, no one would rank Jackie highly on an approachability scale (outcompeting only a bear). But as Bianca was given no better alternative, she could do no more than reciprocate the gesture. She wrapped her arms around Bianca silky smooth shoulders as the girl shook- then briefly, contemplated when the last time was that she hugged someone.
She couldn't recall. Somewhere, there was a hazy memory of clutching onto Melinda at the cabins, yet it had never equated a hug in its purest form... she brought her fingers gently on Bianca's shoulders, stroking the soft fur there.
It felt nice.
Quote from Skyelre on June 28, 2024, 4:11 pm" Dakota's outside. He was preparing for the full moon," Samantha said timidly, opening the door ever so slightly to see Toby down the hall. Still she stood behind the door, as she looked about nervously.
" D-Did someting happen?" She asked practically in a whisper, her heart beating fast.
" Dakota's outside. He was preparing for the full moon," Samantha said timidly, opening the door ever so slightly to see Toby down the hall. Still she stood behind the door, as she looked about nervously.
" D-Did someting happen?" She asked practically in a whisper, her heart beating fast.
Quote from Skyelre on June 29, 2024, 3:16 amStill unconscious, Saber laid in the pit where Kratos had left him, away from Tiffany and Ionone.
With his body having not moved beyond his steady breath since being overtaken by the anesthesia coursing through his bloodstream, little indicated the life that still continued to beat within the wolves chest. With how small that life did remain visible to the outside world, had he slipped away due to complications with the drug, it would be unlikely anyone would have noticed. And yet he breathed in and out, his heart beated, his life continued likely with as much attention as his death would've brought in that present moment.
Still unconscious, Saber laid in the pit where Kratos had left him, away from Tiffany and Ionone.
With his body having not moved beyond his steady breath since being overtaken by the anesthesia coursing through his bloodstream, little indicated the life that still continued to beat within the wolves chest. With how small that life did remain visible to the outside world, had he slipped away due to complications with the drug, it would be unlikely anyone would have noticed. And yet he breathed in and out, his heart beated, his life continued likely with as much attention as his death would've brought in that present moment.
Quote from Kaqurei on June 29, 2024, 7:03 pmSabrina's scent would not be as hard to find as Theo may have expected. Though she carried with her dried essence of the Phantom herb in case she should need it, she had no desire to be hidden on a night of Full Moon. Instead, she donned a scent with notes of vanilla, cinnamon, cream, lavendar, and chamomile, all balanced in just the right amounts so that no one scent would overpower another, and all would be subtle to the sensitive nose of the wolf. There was something else mingled with the scent, which the human mind could not name, that would be pleasing and encouraging to the nostrils of the wolf. If one thought about it hard enough, however, they might consider the smell of fear and distress in prey like deer and elk. If you did not wonder how you knew what that smelled like, you might certainly wonder why you suddenly enjoyed it so much.
But there was not enough of the latter scent to draw out the human mind to wonder, just enough to set the wolf mind at ease. One could even say that the overtones of vanilla and spices was to mask the undertone of distressed prey to the human mind, and reassure both at once that they were safe, and they could be confident of good things to come, for most certainly that was the healer's intent.
She wanted to be found, if she was needed. And if she was needed, she wanted the first suggestion of her presence to be a soothing one. Though she heard the beckoning call of the Alpha, her own nose told her there was one who needed her more, even if she did not want her.
Sabrina's scent would not be as hard to find as Theo may have expected. Though she carried with her dried essence of the Phantom herb in case she should need it, she had no desire to be hidden on a night of Full Moon. Instead, she donned a scent with notes of vanilla, cinnamon, cream, lavendar, and chamomile, all balanced in just the right amounts so that no one scent would overpower another, and all would be subtle to the sensitive nose of the wolf. There was something else mingled with the scent, which the human mind could not name, that would be pleasing and encouraging to the nostrils of the wolf. If one thought about it hard enough, however, they might consider the smell of fear and distress in prey like deer and elk. If you did not wonder how you knew what that smelled like, you might certainly wonder why you suddenly enjoyed it so much.
But there was not enough of the latter scent to draw out the human mind to wonder, just enough to set the wolf mind at ease. One could even say that the overtones of vanilla and spices was to mask the undertone of distressed prey to the human mind, and reassure both at once that they were safe, and they could be confident of good things to come, for most certainly that was the healer's intent.
She wanted to be found, if she was needed. And if she was needed, she wanted the first suggestion of her presence to be a soothing one. Though she heard the beckoning call of the Alpha, her own nose told her there was one who needed her more, even if she did not want her.
