Werewolves (RP20) When the Mountain Replied
Quote from Mae on October 1, 2024, 10:00 pm"Chyeer, chyeer, chyeer," a nightly chorus was playing. The round white moon, high overhead, painted a world of blue hues. Black and blue details on the landscape stood out under it in rare and pristine definition. That is, all except under the dark trees that draped the mountain's feet.
Jenn Peters, a woman of no extraordinary senses in mind or faculty, was wandering in the woods late at night. She wasn't alone, of course she wouldn't be. But her companion was not of the same purpose and mind and she. Jenn, with her boots laced up and her shirt tucked in, had a flashlight in hand and a small camera with a tape recorder to procure for herself what she called "Evidence of the supernatural." Her companion, however, brought nothing but his wits and a mind to half prove and half thwart Jenn's attempts. He himself already knew what she knew: That there were werewolves on Phantom Mountain. He was a werewolf hunter, after all, - or at least he thought he was - and he knew (or thought he knew) if he could give Jenn some satisfactory, albeit falsified evidence, he might turn her back from what was sure to be a very dangerous and inevitable encounter.
It was half past midnight when the sound Jenn had been waiting for all night hit the air. She had traveled only far enough into the woods to be in the right general vicinity, and had planned beforehand where she would bunker down. There was a particular patch of woods where the trees were thick and far between, with long-crossing boughs. Here there was very little undergrowth, and a cave that was about small enough to stay hidden, but high enough to offer a good visual vantage. It poked out between the trunks of two of these big trees. Here, Jenn set up and sat down to wait for her query. When at last the sound came, a cold howl to the west that rose and fell on one breath, Jenn quickly snatched up her recorder and turned it on.
"There it is!" She exclaimed excitedly. "Listen!"
John Camber, Jenn's traveling companion who had made her acquaintance only that afternoon, shuddered at the sound instantly.
"Its-its-its just - Its a wolf." He stammered, "N-nothing more.""No, listen, listen." Jenn hushed him. "Listen to the way it jitters in the intonation. Do you hear it? It's very slightly, but that's no wolf."
Jennifer licked her lips, her curiosity at last was being gratified, and she had the evidence in her hand to prove it. But what if the recorder didn't catch the intonations? Jenn grew a touch anxious and stuck her arm out of the cave to expose the recorder to the open air.
As the first howl fell silent, another lifted to answer it. This howl Jenn identified, for she had heard before and it was distinctly deeper than any of the other howls on the mountain. It easily carried itself above and below the trees, echoing over miles through dense timber and across airy fields.
"Quickly! Grab that notepad and pencil. Jot down the time," Jenn ordered.
"Chyeer, chyeer, chyeer," a nightly chorus was playing. The round white moon, high overhead, painted a world of blue hues. Black and blue details on the landscape stood out under it in rare and pristine definition. That is, all except under the dark trees that draped the mountain's feet.
Jenn Peters, a woman of no extraordinary senses in mind or faculty, was wandering in the woods late at night. She wasn't alone, of course she wouldn't be. But her companion was not of the same purpose and mind and she. Jenn, with her boots laced up and her shirt tucked in, had a flashlight in hand and a small camera with a tape recorder to procure for herself what she called "Evidence of the supernatural." Her companion, however, brought nothing but his wits and a mind to half prove and half thwart Jenn's attempts. He himself already knew what she knew: That there were werewolves on Phantom Mountain. He was a werewolf hunter, after all, - or at least he thought he was - and he knew (or thought he knew) if he could give Jenn some satisfactory, albeit falsified evidence, he might turn her back from what was sure to be a very dangerous and inevitable encounter.
It was half past midnight when the sound Jenn had been waiting for all night hit the air. She had traveled only far enough into the woods to be in the right general vicinity, and had planned beforehand where she would bunker down. There was a particular patch of woods where the trees were thick and far between, with long-crossing boughs. Here there was very little undergrowth, and a cave that was about small enough to stay hidden, but high enough to offer a good visual vantage. It poked out between the trunks of two of these big trees. Here, Jenn set up and sat down to wait for her query. When at last the sound came, a cold howl to the west that rose and fell on one breath, Jenn quickly snatched up her recorder and turned it on.
"There it is!" She exclaimed excitedly. "Listen!"
John Camber, Jenn's traveling companion who had made her acquaintance only that afternoon, shuddered at the sound instantly.
"Its-its-its just - Its a wolf." He stammered, "N-nothing more."
"No, listen, listen." Jenn hushed him. "Listen to the way it jitters in the intonation. Do you hear it? It's very slightly, but that's no wolf."
Jennifer licked her lips, her curiosity at last was being gratified, and she had the evidence in her hand to prove it. But what if the recorder didn't catch the intonations? Jenn grew a touch anxious and stuck her arm out of the cave to expose the recorder to the open air.
As the first howl fell silent, another lifted to answer it. This howl Jenn identified, for she had heard before and it was distinctly deeper than any of the other howls on the mountain. It easily carried itself above and below the trees, echoing over miles through dense timber and across airy fields.
"Quickly! Grab that notepad and pencil. Jot down the time," Jenn ordered.
Quote from Indy on October 2, 2024, 4:31 pm***
The owner of the first howl had been a jubilant one, though perhaps Jenn's recorder would not discern it. Given at last reprieve into her second form, a very eager werewolf by the name of Jacqueline Ryder had taken to every crevice of her body with joyful exploration. She had raced ahead into a nearby clearing, admiring how quickly and easily she could move on four legs rather than two. There, she had leaped upwards, as though to the moon itself, yet settled instead for the lowest branch of an overhanging tree. She had climbed several more limbs until she settled herself like a rather oversized cat, knowing the tree would not bare her weight the same as it had before.
As she sat, the feeling had swelled into her throat and thus found its release into a short call. I am here, it said in profound intent of those very words; although by way of several miles and mediocre technology, its richness was lost long before it was forever entombed in the tape recorder of the two hunkered humans.
***
The owner of the first howl had been a jubilant one, though perhaps Jenn's recorder would not discern it. Given at last reprieve into her second form, a very eager werewolf by the name of Jacqueline Ryder had taken to every crevice of her body with joyful exploration. She had raced ahead into a nearby clearing, admiring how quickly and easily she could move on four legs rather than two. There, she had leaped upwards, as though to the moon itself, yet settled instead for the lowest branch of an overhanging tree. She had climbed several more limbs until she settled herself like a rather oversized cat, knowing the tree would not bare her weight the same as it had before.
As she sat, the feeling had swelled into her throat and thus found its release into a short call. I am here, it said in profound intent of those very words; although by way of several miles and mediocre technology, its richness was lost long before it was forever entombed in the tape recorder of the two hunkered humans.
Quote from Adriana on October 4, 2024, 12:01 pmPlp... plp... plp..
A figure of bristled, golden fur was hunched over on four legs. Standing there and breathing heavily, with her tail low and a steady rolling growl coming from her throat, Bianca watched the sweat roll off her brown nose onto the earth below. A leaf would rustle off of the tree and onto the earth and she'd lift her head and ears towards it, as though she were seeing and hearing the sound for the first time.
Plp... plp... plp..
A figure of bristled, golden fur was hunched over on four legs. Standing there and breathing heavily, with her tail low and a steady rolling growl coming from her throat, Bianca watched the sweat roll off her brown nose onto the earth below. A leaf would rustle off of the tree and onto the earth and she'd lift her head and ears towards it, as though she were seeing and hearing the sound for the first time.
Quote from Adriana on October 7, 2024, 12:11 pmLogan's voice rose up in a howl; she gave an account of the numbers and members present around the dens. She hoped tonight, they would not wander far. Now the defender began on a familiar and well used path that widely circled the dens, to see that nothing was amiss.
Logan's voice rose up in a howl; she gave an account of the numbers and members present around the dens. She hoped tonight, they would not wander far. Now the defender began on a familiar and well used path that widely circled the dens, to see that nothing was amiss.
Quote from Mae on October 8, 2024, 12:17 amJohn jumped at Jenn's command and fumbled for the notepad.
"I can't see anything!" He complained. Why he chose to return to the mountains after ten days, ten miserable days without humanity, was a wonder even to him.Obstinately, John groped for the flashlight first. Then he turned it on and he was able to find the pencil, notepad, and all the rest of Jenn's supplies. A curious glance after he had it in hand found him aiming the flashlight at the back of the cave. He thought he saw several odd shapes propped up against the wall in the dark, and now he could see they were oddly shaped lumps of wood.
More howls lifted up behind the first two, each one a different toned individual.
"Did you catch that?" Jenn asked quickly.
John's attention snapped back to the notebook. "Right. What again?"
Inside the pages, John found several notes from many nights (like this one,) and descriptions of different howls in different colors. Jenn was apparently a color person, and some of her notes were just numbers and abbreviations.Jenn glanced at John and saw that he wasn't writing. So she quickly grabbed her notepad from him and jotted down numbers and notes.
"Just listen to that." Jenn said, eagerly, touching the pencil to her ear and leaning out toward the cave exit.
"Yes, I hear it." John bemoaned his answer. He aimed the flashlight back to the end of the cave again and ventured a few steps to look.
Jenn, meanwhile, had her eyes focused on the forest outside....
*****
It is human nature to regret, and to regret deeply when one knows they've done wrong. Was the werewolf as keen on regret?
It was never Ulric's intention for Logan to leave, and when she did, he found himself in a whole world of uncertainty. Bianca bowed down, fighting the force within her, at the very same moment Ulric felt a similar force rise within him. It came open like a rose blooming, one petal at a time, but also suddenly like the peal of thunder after a crack of lightening.
Ulric had a singular moment to decide; would he give to it, or would he fight it? The racing of his heart for Bianca's sake was ready to fight, but the purveying power within dominated his muscle memory and insisted with equal pleasure, "Let go, and let us win tonight." So he did, and he was changed in a moment. From timid hands to curled claws, and from wavy blond hair to wiry hackles.
Some part of Ulric's awareness reeled back, and for a moment all details were lost to him. He felt the cold wet soil under his hands and feet and lifted his nose to the wind. He could catch a smell a mile away and hear all sounds as if they were one. Then his mind came back into focus and he narrowed his eyes and ears on Bianca. 'Is she okay?'
John jumped at Jenn's command and fumbled for the notepad.
"I can't see anything!" He complained. Why he chose to return to the mountains after ten days, ten miserable days without humanity, was a wonder even to him.
Obstinately, John groped for the flashlight first. Then he turned it on and he was able to find the pencil, notepad, and all the rest of Jenn's supplies. A curious glance after he had it in hand found him aiming the flashlight at the back of the cave. He thought he saw several odd shapes propped up against the wall in the dark, and now he could see they were oddly shaped lumps of wood.
More howls lifted up behind the first two, each one a different toned individual.
"Did you catch that?" Jenn asked quickly.
John's attention snapped back to the notebook. "Right. What again?"
Inside the pages, John found several notes from many nights (like this one,) and descriptions of different howls in different colors. Jenn was apparently a color person, and some of her notes were just numbers and abbreviations.
Jenn glanced at John and saw that he wasn't writing. So she quickly grabbed her notepad from him and jotted down numbers and notes.
"Just listen to that." Jenn said, eagerly, touching the pencil to her ear and leaning out toward the cave exit.
"Yes, I hear it." John bemoaned his answer. He aimed the flashlight back to the end of the cave again and ventured a few steps to look.
Jenn, meanwhile, had her eyes focused on the forest outside....
*****
It is human nature to regret, and to regret deeply when one knows they've done wrong. Was the werewolf as keen on regret?
It was never Ulric's intention for Logan to leave, and when she did, he found himself in a whole world of uncertainty. Bianca bowed down, fighting the force within her, at the very same moment Ulric felt a similar force rise within him. It came open like a rose blooming, one petal at a time, but also suddenly like the peal of thunder after a crack of lightening.
Ulric had a singular moment to decide; would he give to it, or would he fight it? The racing of his heart for Bianca's sake was ready to fight, but the purveying power within dominated his muscle memory and insisted with equal pleasure, "Let go, and let us win tonight." So he did, and he was changed in a moment. From timid hands to curled claws, and from wavy blond hair to wiry hackles.
Some part of Ulric's awareness reeled back, and for a moment all details were lost to him. He felt the cold wet soil under his hands and feet and lifted his nose to the wind. He could catch a smell a mile away and hear all sounds as if they were one. Then his mind came back into focus and he narrowed his eyes and ears on Bianca. 'Is she okay?'
Quote from Adriana on October 8, 2024, 10:03 amContent Warning: Themes of depression and anxiety.
Everything is so loud.
On the outside.
Even Ulric's breathing behind her was clear. The world moved around her, teeming with life; from the little burrowing mole to the clicking wood beetle. Her ears went up and swiveled about, finding each one a curiosity...
Inside, it was quiet, like the hush of a receding tide after the crash of a wave...
...You're nothing. Not good enough. Everyone hates you. Weak. Ugly, pathetic. Cruel. Why do you bother? They don't like you. Nobody likes you. You should have died, not her. Your mother hated you, that's why she left. Your grandfather never wants to see you again. Look at the way they look at you. They wouldn't care if you were gone. Mean, vile, disgusting...
All of those little murmurs receded back...
”.. I’m sorry I ran. I wasn’t running from you. I just feel like, if I run fast enough, I’ll get away from them, all of those thoughts and voices,” she said in a hoarse tone, red eyes moving beyond Ulric as she crossed her arms. “It doesn’t help, when your monsters are inside of you.”
Bianca never struggled with her werewolf form. When your mind is a garden of thorns and thistles, and every good hand and beautiful word that is extended is sure to be a poisoned apple, what need was there to fear a wolf, who came bearing their teeth and claws openly? An obvious danger was always safer than a concealed one, that gave you cause to open your heart enough to have it wounded.
Gestures that were truly good and honest were turned to knives at the threshold. Every bad thing that happened was on account of your existence, and surely the world would be better for the lack of it.
Bianca wasn't okay-she was tired of fighting. Her outbursts were a fraction of the violence and warring that had been happening in her head for so long, and it felt good to release it, but was she becoming everything they said she was in the process? Did it feel better to see their worried and afraid faces, instead of being greeted with what was perceived as deceitful smiles?
For now, that was all put aside.. the fight was painful; her muscles ached and the marrow in her bones burned, but no worse than any other fight before it.
Giving into instinct and simple existence was a release. Instinct was concerned with physical survival, and paid no heed to the voices and complexities of humanity. Coyotes didn't worry about what the ravens thought of them. Owls gave no heed to the musings of men and all of their myths in regards to their origin. The fox didn't worry about who or where they would be in the next five years. Instinct existed for each moment wholly and simply.
It seemed like a simple tradeoff, and yet.... if only the fox and owl knew what wonders the human mind might possess. The art and poetry that it could produce. They could not marvel at the works of Michelangelo or Edgar Allen Poe. They could not invent worlds inside of worlds, or explain the dreams of their sleeping mind vividly. For the animals, the stars exist-but for man, they are a reason for existence.
It was a gift, as well as a burden, and the greatest faculty that separated man from animal.
Yet, for tonight... Bianca had cast off the weights of her humanity in trade for the simple and rudimentary.
Her fur slowly smoothed, and her tail leveled. She turned around to face Ulric, sniffing his face and near his ears with the slightest wag in her tail.
Content Warning: Themes of depression and anxiety.
Everything is so loud.
On the outside.
Even Ulric's breathing behind her was clear. The world moved around her, teeming with life; from the little burrowing mole to the clicking wood beetle. Her ears went up and swiveled about, finding each one a curiosity...
Inside, it was quiet, like the hush of a receding tide after the crash of a wave...
...You're nothing. Not good enough. Everyone hates you. Weak. Ugly, pathetic. Cruel. Why do you bother? They don't like you. Nobody likes you. You should have died, not her. Your mother hated you, that's why she left. Your grandfather never wants to see you again. Look at the way they look at you. They wouldn't care if you were gone. Mean, vile, disgusting...
All of those little murmurs receded back...
”.. I’m sorry I ran. I wasn’t running from you. I just feel like, if I run fast enough, I’ll get away from them, all of those thoughts and voices,” she said in a hoarse tone, red eyes moving beyond Ulric as she crossed her arms. “It doesn’t help, when your monsters are inside of you.”
Bianca never struggled with her werewolf form. When your mind is a garden of thorns and thistles, and every good hand and beautiful word that is extended is sure to be a poisoned apple, what need was there to fear a wolf, who came bearing their teeth and claws openly? An obvious danger was always safer than a concealed one, that gave you cause to open your heart enough to have it wounded.
Gestures that were truly good and honest were turned to knives at the threshold. Every bad thing that happened was on account of your existence, and surely the world would be better for the lack of it.
Bianca wasn't okay-she was tired of fighting. Her outbursts were a fraction of the violence and warring that had been happening in her head for so long, and it felt good to release it, but was she becoming everything they said she was in the process? Did it feel better to see their worried and afraid faces, instead of being greeted with what was perceived as deceitful smiles?
For now, that was all put aside.. the fight was painful; her muscles ached and the marrow in her bones burned, but no worse than any other fight before it.
Giving into instinct and simple existence was a release. Instinct was concerned with physical survival, and paid no heed to the voices and complexities of humanity. Coyotes didn't worry about what the ravens thought of them. Owls gave no heed to the musings of men and all of their myths in regards to their origin. The fox didn't worry about who or where they would be in the next five years. Instinct existed for each moment wholly and simply.
It seemed like a simple tradeoff, and yet.... if only the fox and owl knew what wonders the human mind might possess. The art and poetry that it could produce. They could not marvel at the works of Michelangelo or Edgar Allen Poe. They could not invent worlds inside of worlds, or explain the dreams of their sleeping mind vividly. For the animals, the stars exist-but for man, they are a reason for existence.
It was a gift, as well as a burden, and the greatest faculty that separated man from animal.
Yet, for tonight... Bianca had cast off the weights of her humanity in trade for the simple and rudimentary.
Her fur slowly smoothed, and her tail leveled. She turned around to face Ulric, sniffing his face and near his ears with the slightest wag in her tail.
Quote from Adriana on October 8, 2024, 12:01 pmLiam listened to Logan's howl, his ears forward, then back briefly.
She's moving away.
He observed. The white wolf had not yet given him a command, and he was growing restless under the strength of the moon.
"Unity is a good medicine, whether it is in a ceremonial tea, or music, or a hunt." he observed, "Is there anything that I can help with?" he approached Sabrina and Theo from the side.
Liam listened to Logan's howl, his ears forward, then back briefly.
She's moving away.
He observed. The white wolf had not yet given him a command, and he was growing restless under the strength of the moon.
"Unity is a good medicine, whether it is in a ceremonial tea, or music, or a hunt." he observed, "Is there anything that I can help with?" he approached Sabrina and Theo from the side.
Quote from Kaqurei on October 14, 2024, 12:02 pmSabrina was intrigued, and, feeling invigorated as the moon lent her it's strength though her body was already changed, let out a long, melodious howl. Deep, poignant, ripping out of her chest like a blade but cooling to a soft, healing river as it rose to her throat and melted into pure soft moonlight as it escaped her lips. It was a call, to each member of the pack, and visitors of pure intent, to join the song. Long and high she sang, eyes closed. When her voice began to shrink, she lowered her head to look at present company and swallowed. Licked her lips.
To Theo, "Make your tea. Give to those that return."
And to the stranger, "Come with me." And without another word she turned to seek out those voices that hadn't joined her song.
Sabrina was intrigued, and, feeling invigorated as the moon lent her it's strength though her body was already changed, let out a long, melodious howl. Deep, poignant, ripping out of her chest like a blade but cooling to a soft, healing river as it rose to her throat and melted into pure soft moonlight as it escaped her lips. It was a call, to each member of the pack, and visitors of pure intent, to join the song. Long and high she sang, eyes closed. When her voice began to shrink, she lowered her head to look at present company and swallowed. Licked her lips.
To Theo, "Make your tea. Give to those that return."
And to the stranger, "Come with me." And without another word she turned to seek out those voices that hadn't joined her song.
Quote from Adriana on October 14, 2024, 1:07 pmAlthough he did not participate, Liam admired the song. He did not yet feel as though he were in a position to join the beautiful tune, although earlier he had sung alongside Tiffany freely.
When Sabrina's eyes returned to him, he bowed his head in a nod and took up after her.
---
Bianca turned her eyes and ears to hear the howl, and threw her own neck back to join the call.
Logan however, had already given a report, and did not feel so inclined, as she wandered towards the ranch homestead.
Although he did not participate, Liam admired the song. He did not yet feel as though he were in a position to join the beautiful tune, although earlier he had sung alongside Tiffany freely.
When Sabrina's eyes returned to him, he bowed his head in a nod and took up after her.
---
Bianca turned her eyes and ears to hear the howl, and threw her own neck back to join the call.
Logan however, had already given a report, and did not feel so inclined, as she wandered towards the ranch homestead.
Quote from Mae on October 15, 2024, 1:28 amOne, two, three... four, five...
Jenn Peters and John Camber weren't the only ones counting howls that night.
****
The fifth wolf-song rose to the sky as if asking to be joined, and it was.
Timothy raised his voice in answer. His melodious, soft, soaring sound filled the space between earth and heaven.
Ulric started at the sound, for he found Timothy very close at hand, standing in the woods by Bianca and himself, mingled with trees and shadows.
Bianca had given herself to instinct, but trusting instinct to always be correct was to say the natural man never made a mistake. There were instincts given for good purpose that could do irreparable harm in a moment, a fleeting instinctual moment, that could never be withdrawn.
Ulric knew this. He needed help. Timothy was here, which meant he knew opportunity was nigh. If Ulric could recall Logan, he would. But it was not in his years to know the wisdom of apologizing quickly. He felt it too great an embarrassment, himself too unworthy of forgiveness, and the moment too soon to be reconciled. So, he sought other means of deliverance. He lifted his voice with the others, but he did not sing their song. His voice rose and fell to a sound in his heart; a memory in his ear; a song he knew at least one other member of the pack was sure to know.
******
Six, seven...
******
Kratos' white-tipped ears turned toward the sounds of his companions as each sang out. He did recognize Ulric's hymn, but he did not answer it. Between his large black hands was displacement in the wet soil, but no scent to mark it. Someone had passed this way, and had gone toward the cabins...
One, two, three... four, five...
Jenn Peters and John Camber weren't the only ones counting howls that night.
****
The fifth wolf-song rose to the sky as if asking to be joined, and it was.
Timothy raised his voice in answer. His melodious, soft, soaring sound filled the space between earth and heaven.
Ulric started at the sound, for he found Timothy very close at hand, standing in the woods by Bianca and himself, mingled with trees and shadows.
Bianca had given herself to instinct, but trusting instinct to always be correct was to say the natural man never made a mistake. There were instincts given for good purpose that could do irreparable harm in a moment, a fleeting instinctual moment, that could never be withdrawn.
Ulric knew this. He needed help. Timothy was here, which meant he knew opportunity was nigh. If Ulric could recall Logan, he would. But it was not in his years to know the wisdom of apologizing quickly. He felt it too great an embarrassment, himself too unworthy of forgiveness, and the moment too soon to be reconciled. So, he sought other means of deliverance. He lifted his voice with the others, but he did not sing their song. His voice rose and fell to a sound in his heart; a memory in his ear; a song he knew at least one other member of the pack was sure to know.
******
Six, seven...
******
Kratos' white-tipped ears turned toward the sounds of his companions as each sang out. He did recognize Ulric's hymn, but he did not answer it. Between his large black hands was displacement in the wet soil, but no scent to mark it. Someone had passed this way, and had gone toward the cabins...
