"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
She had been practicing her shapeshifting when the mare had found her, invited her to join a pack. The idea had been intriguing - Maze had a family, one she loved, but she was starting to itch for something more. Something she could really belong to. She wasn’t sure whether this was it but it didn’t seem like it would hurt to try.
In the end, the cove that she was told of was not hard to find or very far from where she roamed normally. Soft grasses brush against her white and black legs when she arrives in late afternoon, the sun pale and cold as it begins to slip towards the horizon. Although it is tempting to arrive as something else, Mazikeen decides against it - thinking maybe showing up as a tiger would not be the best first impression. She didn’t want to be mistaken for a real predator and chased away.
Instinct tells her not to wander too far once she notices the scents begin to shift - someone has marked out this territory and she’s a guest. Just like her reasons for being herself, a filly just about to turn a year old, she does not wish to ruffle any fur or feathers (or scales) by trespassing unnecessarily.
Unsure what to do, she paces a little - hoping to catch sight of the mare Sochi or someone else who might be able to point her in the right direction.
It’s a slow fire that Sochi feeds. She prefers it that way. Prefers that the idea and news of her back goes slowly through Beqanna—that it is told in whispers between the shapeshifters, that they pass it along one to another. That the first to arrive is young delights her, and her silvery eyes sharpen when she sees the filly move into the Cove’s borders. She doesn’t go to her immediately though. Instead, she remains content to watch from afar, musing as she studies the white and black of her and what lies beneath.
She watches as Mazikeen paces, the uncertainty clear in the steps she takes, the way that she looks for her. It simmers for a moment before she finally chooses to step forward, coming down from the grassy hill and out from the shadows. She pads forward lightly on her paws, her feline tail twitching behind her as she makes her way slowly to the other filly, something like a smile shadowing the edges of her lips.
“Hello, Mazikeen,” she offers when she’s close enough, taking a step and shifting before the paw becomes a hoof and strikes the solid ground. “I’m so glad that you were able to find your way here.”
Not that she had any doubt that the filly would have.
After all, something beneath the surface made her think that this is exactly what the filly needed.
she said a war ain't a war before both sides bleed
05-20-2020, 09:47 AM (This post was last modified: 05-20-2020, 09:47 AM by Dayé.)
when i run through the deep dark forest long after this has begun,
She’s restless. Perhaps then it is the warmer weather that draws her to the east. She had contemplated first heading west - home, to Tephra, where she had been so loved as a young pup by her wolf-father and lion-mother. Her time in the smoke-swathed territory was filled with tender memories, but now grown, she could not bring herself to return to a place where no one would be waiting for her. She searches for that familiarity, yet in the same instance, runs from it.
She is all wolf; all claw and fang and pure ferocity. She always has been. The forest of Beqanna is full of her presence, from her lonesome and sorrowful howls at twilight, to the bones picked clean beneath damp underbrush.
The winter had been good to her, fortunately. Her coat, still thick with winter’s fur, is a muted dusty rose on top of heavy muscle. Her black lined lips smell of a recent meal, leaving her brown eyes inquisitive and curious without the distraction of a grumbling stomach. But her instincts continue to pull at her, unsatisfied with her complacency, begging for more. The pack mentality runs deep in her blood and years of hunting alone has left her callous and unfeeling, drained by the silence as a lone wolf.
So east she goes - to a place she had never been before, far past Loess where the smell of her brother is long since dead. Perhaps she missed the sea. Not the wolf, of course; the little wolf didn’t care for the salt and the sun, but the slender palomino did. And ironically so, though the blue-tinged mare did not care for a family or a home, but the wolf did.
After all, there must be balance.
Daye huffs, the dark brown of her eyes taking in the unfamiliar landscape. She follows the sound of the ocean, coming into the cove with mud caked across her rose gold chest, paws tingling as they press lightly onto the silvery sand. Her sides rise and fall with the exertion from her travels, slowing her lope into a choppy trot as the expanse of beach becomes more open, unafraid as she moves out from beneath the shadows.
The wolf scents the filly first. She slows to a lazy walk, the sea breeze picking playfully at the thick fur at her nape. The girl is strikingly familiar and Daye does not stop her careful stride towards her, realizing it is the same ivory filly she had come across the other day. Perhaps it was fate that brought her here, the wolf tells herself amusedly.
The dusty red wolf halts on a dime, then, as a tigress comes to meet the young girl.
Fate, indeed.
Daye is frozen mid-step, one sandy forepaw suspended in the air. Her wet nose shivers, taking in the scent of the feline as memories she thought to be gone now suddenly flash across her mind. Sochi. The wolf’s lithe figure moves forward, back into a walk but more purposeful this time, her tail timidly swaying behind her.
She halts a few feet away from the duo, her intelligent eyes never leaving the large tigress. She does not fall to her belly, but lowers her head, peering up at Sochi from beneath an amused crinkle of her brow. A soft whine presses through her teeth before her voice, hushed and curious, speaks her name. “Sochi.”
Though she had eaten her fill only a day ago, suddenly her stomach roils with what Daye can only assume is hunger, but perhaps it is much more.
Dayé
where the sun would set, trees are dead, and the rivers were none.
Again the filly is impressed with the tigress when she sees her - marveling at the power in every single stride. It is a form that she has mimicked, in her own time, though her tiger form is one of crystalline white marred with a handful of black stripes. Not once has she managed to shift into a colour not of her own, but she can’t say she really minds that just yet.
Her orange eyes flash with a grateful grin at Sochi’s greeting though she does her best to clamp down on letting the excitement bubble over too much. Mazikeen does not want to be seen as just some overeager filly, not in this company. “Me too.”
They are joined soon after by a familiar wolf and her smile grows a little at the sight. It feels very much like fate to see another face she knows here, in this spot. Another one for the cause then? “Hello again.” She greets, flicking her black-tipped tail behind her - which has (only kind of by accident) become a wolf's tail. She wishes she had shown up as something cool to remind them that she could really shift, but it feels a little silly to do it now. Especially now that Sochi is in her horse form once again (a flawless, beautiful shift that makes jealousy tingle in Mazikeen’s heart).
Mazikeen had never lacked for affection from either of her parents, but she feels that something more is beginning here with these two mares. Will others arrive? What forms will they take? What will her favourite shape be? She's with a tiger and a wolf now, perhaps she'll be a bear or an osprey.
She snaps herself out of her own head and with another shake of her tail it returns back to its natural shape. The orange-eyed filly tilts her head to the side as she grins at her companions. “So, what do we do now?”
Sochi keeps her eyes trained on the young girl, watching her with an inquisitive tilt of her head, her ears flicking forward for the most part but every so often rotating. A habit of spending so much of her time in the form of a predator, as well as aa habit learned in her years of protecting a kingdom. Not hers, she has come to realize, and a bitterness floods her mouth as she realizes how much of her effort had gone into protecting a legacy that was not her own—protecting a crown that did nothing for her.
She rolls a shoulder, determined to get rid of the wash of upset from her mouth, and only looks away from the young girl when another scent arrives on the wind. Her dark head turns toward the side where the wolf comes from and she feels a tightening in her belly—excitement, recognition, and anticipation roiling around until she feels the tigress chomp at the back of her mind. She shifts without thinking, once again wearing the body of her feline self, and moves forward toward the wolf intentionally.
“Daye,” she murmurs the name and rubs her head against the other.
It had been years since she had seen the mare. Years since Daye had taken her on her first hunt—shown her that it was okay to embrace the predator. Years since she stumbled to Daye in a haze after her brush with Carnage and the mare had helped her through the trauma. There’s so much to say and Sochi finds that she doesn’t have the words to say them. So, instead, she gives her that feline grin, tail twitching.
After a moment she turns her attention back to Mazikeen. Her sharp gaze slides to the wolfish tail behind her. “We live,” she answers, her voice quiet but the words sure of themselves. “We find others who are interested in living differently—who long for a life outside of the political weight of the kingdoms—and we build a pack.” There is something like amusement at the corner of her mouth as she nods to the tail.
“And you show us what you can really do with that gift of yours.”
she said a war ain't a war before both sides bleed
06-08-2020, 12:51 PM (This post was last modified: 06-08-2020, 12:51 PM by Dayé.)
when i run through the deep dark forest long after this has begun,
The wild woman cannot help the semblance of a smile that curls almost wickedly on those black-lined lips, exposing the sharp canines hidden beneath. Sochi’s gesture of welcome causes a rumble of a growl to vibrate in her chest, pressing her slender head against the massivity of the tiger fondly. They fall away from their embrace and Dayé is met with the smoldering grin that only Sochi could command, sparking an excitement in the wolf that she had not felt in years. The prospect of a family, a pack, thrilled her to her very marrow.
We live.
Dayé cannot help the low, smooth howl of agreement that spills from her throat, then stepping swiftly towards Sochi to nip devotedly at her cheek. “A family,” Dayé murmurs, her coffee-brown gaze flickering between her two companions with sudden possessiveness.
Her warm brown eyes follow the soft wag of Mazikeen’s tail, nipping at the air close to the filly’s wolf-tail playfully and then whuffling gently at the white of her shoulder as Dayé draws up beside her. “Hello, little wolf,” she croons to her affectionately, her dusty tail thumping gently against Mazikeen’s side before the wolf curls it around her paws delicately to sit on her haunches. Dayé had yet to realize that little Maze was more than the white and black wolf pup she had “sparred” with only a few days prior, so the wolf’s brows prick curiously at Sochi’s suggestion, turning her head towards the younger female with a soft pout of confusion. Her eyes, however, sparkle with ferocity and excitement.
“Do share,” she growls, her tail unfurling and gently tapping the ground behind her in expectation.
Dayé
where the sun would set, trees are dead, and the rivers were none.
It is with amazement that Mazikeen watches the effortless-looking shift from mare into tigress as Sochi moves to greet Dayé, the filly remains where she is - quiet and patient as the two predators meet each other. There’s a smile that sparks when the wolf comes to greet her, though - a flash of delight at the nickname and a sense of pride and affection swelling in her young heart as the wolf sits by her side.
A pack, a family. Mazikeen can see it taking shape in her mind and she wants it. She thinks of the other shifters she has met, the two boys and their soft shapes, and wonders if they'll fit in with the older mares that have so quickly won her respect.
When their attention turns to her, Mazikeen relishes the feeling and will not waste it. Dayé already knows she can shift into a wolf so Mazikeen picks something different - and she’s definitely not above showing off a little bit. She focuses (determined as all hell not to mess this up and get stuck halfway between a shift) and her horse body morphs into that of a juvenile tiger - with brilliant white in place of the rich orange. That colour remains in her eyes, though, and she winks at the older mares before she shifts again - this time becoming an osprey.
With a leap, she takes off and circles around the pair once. Her flight habits are a little clumsy from lack of practice using wings, but she does not crash so she considers it a success.
As she comes in for a landing at her original spot, she turns into a fox and relaxes on the ground next to the wolf - her heart hammering from the quick succession of shifts and stretch of her powers. The white fox, adorned only with black foot markings, sits neatly but her tail wags a couple of times behind her before settling - trying to remain at least a little cool in the presence of this very cool wolf and tiger.
“I yet to find anything I haven’t been able to shift into. Still learning how to fight and fly, though.” And she casts a grin towards Dayé, her wrestling partner.
06-12-2020, 06:57 PM (This post was last modified: 06-12-2020, 06:58 PM by sochi.)
SOCHI
Something like pride, and excitement, swell in Sochi’s chest as she regards the two females. With them—along with Risk and their children—there was more than enough of a foundation for a pack. More than enough for them to get a foothold in the Cove and start to expand, if they wanted. At the very least, it was enough to protect their way of living from outsiders. Not many would want to take on that many shifters.
She grins at Daye’s howl, feeling that familiar warmth, and she gladly nips back—wondering at how she has always felt such a kinship with the other mare. From the very beginning, something inside of her had answered the call of the other. She had always known that they would find their way back.
Her attention doesn’t last there long though. Soon, she’s focusing it entirely on Mazikeen. She settles into a comfortable sitting position and watches, with nothing short of amazement, as the filly quickly runs through a gamut of shifts. So she is like Risk, she thinks. She hadn’t known how many of them were out there—these shifters who so quickly can take on the form of so many different animals.
It was different than having one form you knew so intimately (she is not sure she could give up that relationship she has with the tiger), but in some ways, infinitely more useful. “Impressive,” is all she says though, the compliment sincere but clipped in comparison to the thoughts that run through her shrewd mind. “We can help with the fighting, at least.” It’s not like either of them could assist with flying.
A sharp smile pulls at the edge of her lips as her claws flex and dig into the ground below.
“There are others here like you,” she comments. “Including my children.”
Breach, especially, was new to her shifting abilities.
“It would be useful for you to spar with them. I’m sure you could all teach each other something.”
she said a war ain't a war before both sides bleed
when i run through the deep dark forest long after this has begun,
All of her instincts (both equine and canine) push her towards this - a dynamic that, even though the two shifters are not blood, already feels like the family she had been born with. Her parents are long gone - her father dead and mother disappeared. There is her half-brother, but the rumors that whisper like poison in the night keep her far seeking a reunion with Wolfbane. Her spirit, both wolf and horse, reels joyously with excitement and purpose.
Dayé watches with a cool brown gaze as the young girl shifts into a shape she hadn’t seen yet. The wolf’s jaws open in a surprised bark at the sight of the white tiger that then, in just a blink, is airborne as a white and black raptor. The dusty rose-colored wolf leaps onto all fours, her eyes following the spiraling albeit shaky flight of the osprey. Her brows prick with interest and curiosity, that same gaze glancing sideways at Sochi, impressed.
A breathless fox - alabaster and onyx - lands beside her with a breathless grin. Dayé lowers her head to whuffle gently between large triangular ears of the vulpine, a single ear trained on Sochi as the tigress addresses the young shifter. Dayé lifts a foreleg to affectionately paw at Mazikeen’s long snout, pleased with her abilities and the promise she shows with her willingness to learn about her own strength and power, as well as each of her other skins. She raises her head at the realization that there are more in the pack besides the three of them, lifting her chin as a wolfish grin finds her black-lined lips. “I’m glad we have all found each other.” Her voice is lush with pride and warmth, a growl vibrating low in her chest.
“Our strength within our pack will only grow.”
Dayé
where the sun would set, trees are dead, and the rivers were none.
@[Mazikeen] @[Sochi]
wow they are absolutely amazing
figured this is a good end for now, unless you would like to reply!
