"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 flits and flutters, a graceful and light creature leaping and bounding through the tall, great trees.
As she draws deeper into the forest on slender, brown-black paws, Merida realizes she has never been here before. The grand, autumnal trees tower over her – giant and foreboding in their length – unsettled by their fire-like glow as they stretch into the sky has turned a blood-red. It is nearly dusk when she arrives on the borders, though darkness has already coated the area; the thickness of the foliage above her keeps most of the final rays of sunlight from touching the ground. With the sun’s finishing light, the world around her bathes in an eerie orange glow, her auburn coat dipped in honey. She feels tiny and small as she becomes shrouded by the silence of the tall, stagnant trees. She stops, trying to quiet the rapid rise and fall of her ribcage from her dash through the forest. She feels like she’s too loud, like she is interfering on the trees and their very growth.
Broad, black-tipped ears flick as the she awaits the sounds of crickets as well as other nocturnal creatures that would begin to fill the silent woods. She merely listens, soaking in the quiet and unknown atmosphere with the still-new senses of a fox.
It is so deadly quiet.
It is so very different than anything she had ever witnessed.
The silence puts her on edge now, the fur on her neck bristling uneasily. No longer is she merely traveling through Beqanna; the tiny fox has intruded on a land that wreaks of darkness and death, of decay and shadows. She snorts, her tiny black nose lifting upwards as she tries to place the scent that she had originally followed, a soft and quiet whimper of frustration vocalizing in her throat as she crouches slightly on her delicate legs, her bushy and white-tipped tail flicking wildly behind her in agitation.
The return of her daughter had left the flame-eyed woman occupied for the past few moons, keeping her from knowing the current situation that has befallen Sylva, or the fact that the residents here had just visited her home, Loess, in search of Heda. However, the fox-girl had not forgotten the large wolf she had met in the forest, with his fire tricks and unusual way of making her feel ‘at home’ with her new shifter-abilities.
But here, within the growing darkness of nightfall and with the tall, daunting trees towering over her, she feels as though she’s made a mistake – that seeking him out and following his scent here was perhaps a foolish idea.
The ever billowing silence makes her heart race, her ears falling flat against her crimson head and her black lips peeling away from her sharp, tiny teeth in response.
Age is the only thing that puts the semblance of divide between the two of them. Crevan is still a boy, not yet three while Merida is a mother grown. In their natural, equine state perhaps this would present a problem: Merida might even spurn his company could she but know how young he really was. But as wolf and fox the distinction is lost, time seems to have no meaning or order in their primal world and for that, the young wolf is grateful. Merida’s scent washes over his mouth and nose as he paces the border and with pleasing alacrity, (and not a single thought of her possible age) the pale shifter jerks off his current path to bound into the dusky wood.
His navy eyes are first to make her out, little as she is compared to the blackened trunks around her. In the low light it’s hard to distinguish shapes or patterns and most creatures are making for homes and burrows as the rest wake from day-long slumber, but Crevan matches that flaming coat with her smell and puts two-and-two together. In the golden hour, sunlight halos the outline of her snarling form to give her a radiant, menacing figure and, upon halting near to her, Crevan’s bleached snout pulls up into the mimic of a toothy grin.
“Careful there,” He warns playfully, dropping his front-end down low to the earth so his hind end, which remains high in the air, might wiggle and send his plumed tail into a flurry of activity. “you can’t scare away ghosts with a cute snarl.”
It’s been too long. “Why’d you come?” He wants to ask as he pulls himself upright once more, but the thought disappears with his desire not to spoil the moment with something trivial like politics or kingdom talk. They’d done just fine without that prior, thank you very much, and surprisingly he enjoys her company, not her ability to be diplomatic. “Walk with me?” He offers instead, tilting that massive head aside to indicate that they should peruse Sylva in the dark.
It won’t be hard, with their unique vision. It’ll only be hard if she says “no” or “I can’t” and Crevan is determined not to let those words slip past her needle teeth. “Come on -” He begs, slinking backwards step by step as if to make a getaway without her. He won’t though, wouldn’t dream of it. “There’s so much I want to tell you.”
11-08-2017, 04:24 PM (This post was last modified: 11-08-2017, 04:27 PM by Merida.)
Merida
from the ashes, a fire shall be awoken
He finds her like he had found her before, quickly and stealthily. She perhaps had felt his presence long before he reveals himself to her, but she is still unused to her new body’s abilities and has not learned to trust her instincts.
His voice is familiar and playful, which allows the bristling of the fur around her neck to calm as well as allow her snarl to spread into a tiny, almost sheepish smile. Despite the air of mystery that hangs about the eerie forest, she suddenly feels more comfortable and less anxious with the large wolf by her side. She straightens with a graceful stretch of her back, flicking her tail so that it falls perfectly over her tiny paws when she sits on her haunches. The darkness is nearly all encompassing now, barely any sunlight is left from the day - but she does not worry, for she has found the one whom she had been seeking and there had never been any reason for her not to trust him.
Something almost like a purr reverberates in her throat as she speaks his name, “Crevan,” in greeting, ears flipping backwards as she assumes a rather prideful look - she had found him.
“Ghosts? The only haunt around here is you,” she says lightly, flaming eyes of red sparkling with laughter.
He invites her in. It didn’t take him long and she is glad. For the first time since she can remember, excitement electrifies her very core; she does not hesitate to hop onto her agile legs in a single motion at his request. There is so much for her to learn, and she knows he is more than willing to show her.
Had Merida been interested in kingdom politics and the current events in Beqanna, let alone her residence of Loess, she might have not taken this trip. But the fiery woman cares less about other’s rise to the top and their politics, and more about her own desires - call it selfish, naive, whatever you’d like. But as the woman eagerly falls into place beside her wolf companion, she is not aware of the path she has now put herself on - and just exactly whose kingdom she had just entered.
Crevan begins to back away but she is already standing, eyes flickering from his cobalt gaze to the darkness that gapes behind him. With a flick of her tail she leaps past him in a few spritely jumps, lightly landing a few feet ahead of him with a loud bark. “The stage is yours,” she replies with a little dip of her head, ready and willing to hear anything he might have to say.
@[Crevan]
I hope this is okay! I can start a new, fresh thread for them if you'd prefer. I just think they're so fun together, I definitely wanted to see where this ended up! Also, Kuma is Merida's daughter, so this will become fun (and messy) eventually!
He’d nearly forgotten her. The little foxy thing who had yet to enjoy the fullest extent of her newfound powers. Merida.
Crevan clicks his teeth together in pleasant surprise as she darts nimbly ahead, the swoop of her shadowy tail stirring a breeze that smarts his wet nose. He can sense a change in her too, though between them nothing is lost or gained since their meeting in the woods. Her feet are sure even in the pressing darkness and Crevan grins broadly at her proud bark. The she-fox seemed to have gained an apt sense of her second skin; Merida was a quick learner.
It doesn’t even bother him that he’s become a horrid beast in the meantime. Why would it? As far as Crevan is concerned, what they built between them is still the same, still untainted by anything outside of their friendship. He can’t possibly know that by his own means, (his own selfish, childish, arrogant means) he’s yet to cause her unspeakable pain. All he knows is to clip ahead with lengthy strides and slip further into the nightmare that he’d help create.
“Where’ve you been?” He starts, the most obvious of questions but the most pressing. His breath curls in phantom spirits about his keen snout, clinging to his whiskers as sharp crystals of ice. The frigid dark does little to daunt the pale hunter; Crevan’s adult coat is thick and prime, gleaming with health and immortal vigor in the starry light. A moon peeks somewhere between the trees, but its silver glow has yet to touch them. The night is young yet, a stirring of excitement trips his pulse.
“I can’t look at Foxes the same way now.” He chuckles.
An unlikely duo, a red flame and its shadow, trapezing carelessly through the depths of twilight, with a silent forest greeting them. Perhaps it is the fact they are shifters; Merida is clueless when it comes to the culture that came with her ability, for she was not born with the fox in her blood - instead, had been gifted with it. She holds it all the more precious to her heart, knowing that though it is not in her genes, she was seen fit by the gods or by the faeries or by whatever it is that controls the balance of Beqanna. But she is learning that maybe there is a certain bond between those who can change their shape and those who cannot - an almost secret pledge of loyalty that permeates from the shape of her fox and his wolf.
Or maybe she is just happy to finally have something to share with someone, a friend.
Their friendship is still new (their first meeting had been fleeting and curious, for Merida still had been unsure in her new footing), but they have greeted each other like old friends. They still knew practically nothing about each other, save for names, so when he asks where she’s been (in such a gentle way, not prying but genuinely curious), she begins to wonder the same about him.
“Everywhere,” she replies with a sly smile that is fitting on the fox’s slender and pointed snout. She’s flitting and darting around his lumbering form, keeping up with his pace in perfectly poised leaps that allows her to jump from rock, to the forest floor, to a larger boulder where she stops for a moment as its height brings her almost to his shoulder, and instead of looking up at him now can see him eye-to-eye. “Originally I returned to Loess, but the nose of my fox wished to venture elsewhere,”
A brief wave of thoughtfulness passes on her sharp features, thinking of her daughter whom she had left back in the mountainous Loess. Merida has had her own share of times when she also was a horrid beast (things have been said and things have been done that are by her fault alone), and for a moment she lingers on it; but a flick of her tail decisively brushes it away and she leaps down from the boulder to continue padding gracefully alongside Crevan.
His deep laugh makes her wrinkle her nose, throwing her snout upwards haughtily. “And how is it you thought of them before, dear Crevan?” she says accusingly, a small growl rippling on her black lips (though a smile forms closely behind it).
Merida is a forest spirit, in body and energy. Crevan can hardly twist his head from one side to the other and there she is; he only hopes that a misstep on his own part won’t catch her tail in the aftermath, but the wily female seems to have it figured out. “Everywhere” She tells him and the slip of a knowing smile winds across his lips. He envies her freedom, the lax ability she has to disappear without a trace and leave others wondering as to her whereabouts. Crevan can feel the tangle of dark roots already seeping into his bones the longer he remains here, in Sylva.
Soon he might find himself stuck to this very place. “Originally I returned to Loess,” she regals, perching briefly on the outcropping of a random boulder while Crevan draws to a halt. He refuses the rest of what she says though, his mind won’t have that. Instead it travels to more curious places and arouses questions that, at first, he’s not sure he wants the answer to. “Why would you go to Loess?” He wonders, confusion muddying his expression for the briefest of moments though he says nothing aloud. She must know .. Sylva and Loess were at strong odds against one another.
Gryffen wanted Heda dead, but was satiating that thirst with any Loessian he could find. “Like Kuma, and Imperial.” He thinks quite suddenly, a sharp pain slicing through his chest at the memory.
Best to leave those things in the past. So he does, and just as quickly as he decides so does Merida - leaping down from her niche to join him once more in travel. “Like furry little meal-stealers.” He tells her, bumping a skull full of iron-hard bone against that adorable, snarling head of hers. “Your cousins are notorious for slipping in right under my very mouth and taking my hard-earned meal away bit by bit.” He barks with easy laughter, clipping ahead into a jogging trot.
The thick of his chest and gut rises and falls with each prowling stride. Easily he slinks up a sloping hill, twisting around the backside to follow a gently-worn path up to its summit. A boulder of mighty height and girth rests solidly into the earth of Sylva land, jutting out to create a natural resting place on top and a dry, leaf-littered area below. Even Crevan with his notorious bulk seems dwarfed by the sheet of gray stone. It’s here that he slows, clicking across the hard surface until he’s come to rest at the lip of the overhang. Above them, the sky is clear of forest clutter and the stars wink brightly from their canopy of night.
“Now I can’t see one without thinking of you.” He whuffs, sitting calmly while throwing a dark stare in her direction. “Why is that?” He muses aloud, half-aware that he’s uttering it though his mind has begun to drift elsewhere. “Why is it that you never came back with me, that day in the Forest? You belong with your own kind … not in Loess.” He spits, the word turning to bile on his tongue.
She senses the overwhelming darkness that flows and ebbs throughout the tall trees of Sylva, and though her attention fully rests on the behemoth of a beast before her, the instincts of her fox will not let her simply evade or ignore the feeling of disquiet that hovers around them. Instead, she keeps her brilliant red gaze locked on Crevan, not allowing her energy to dwindle - she is excited to be here with him, even in this unfamiliar land that would cause the thick fur on her nape to bristle if she would allow it. The landscape is completely different from what she has become accustomed to in Loess, but the unknown adds adrenaline to her blood, and finding a true sense of safety is a concern far from the agile fox. Besides, they were predators - what does she have to fear within the billowing darkness of the forest?
His reply broadens the snarl that already so fittingly adorns the black lines of her lips, and it deepens as his teasing intensifies. A scavenger? Impossible! He bumps his large head with hers, a dwarfed and graceful silhouette against the the one of the giant wolf. As he draws away, she snaps at the space beneath his neck, purposely missing as her jaws clack together in warning beneath his throat (she would never attempt to hurt him - his brute strength would kill her in an instant, if he’d like). “I’m not sure that fact paints wolves in a very pleasant light,” she calls after him as he begins to trot forward, a grin replacing the snarling and sparkling white of her tiny teeth, “if you so easily allow us to keep stealing from you.” But he’s already dashing away further into the darkening and deepening forest, and with a tiny and frustrated bark, she bounds after him.
He begins his ascent upwards on the boulder and she slows only momentarily, sizing up the rock as her flame-colored eyes quickly find tiny points to begin her climb. Lightly and with all the poignant grace of the tiny animal she is, her dark paws alight on ascending nooks and crannies, until she has joined him on the smooth surface of the very top. She curls her thick tail around her haunches as she sits, elegant as her thin nose lifts upward and sniffs quickly and deliberately, tasting the Sylvan air on her tongue. Merida pleasantly thumps her tail a few times against her paws and glances towards him through the corner of her eyesight, coal-like eyes burning even in the pitch of night. “I bet you think twice before sinking your teeth into them now,” she says pointedly, brows rising with amusement. “You’d rue the day your jaws clamp down on me.” The fox laughs, tossing her head with a quick motion that follows down to her spine, her fur fluffing and then falling as she did so.
A black-tipped ear flicks towards him; his last thought almost confusing her. She turns her head to Crevan, tilting it slightly a few degrees. She watches him thoughtfully, pressing her lips together firmly as she searches her mind for the reason. “I didn’t know if I’d be able to find you on my own,” she admits pensively, her voice clipped - she did not like admitting she couldn’t do something, or that she might have been afraid to. “The fox, though still new to me now, was even more unfamiliar then - I didn’t trust myself like I do now.” A pause, a shift in her weight and a shuffling of paws, her eyes now staring out at the starlit sky stretching before her. “And then my daughter returned, which - ” she stops suddenly, a slight twitch finding her tail as well as her lips, for a moment her heart wrenching for Kuma - she had always been a wayward and absent mother, but the two had reunited and besides her wolf friend, her daughter is perhaps the only other one who can tolerate Merida.
“- surprised me.” She finishes with finality, a deep exhale leaving her small chest. Merida lifts a black paw upwards and gently brushes at an itch on her long snout, contemplating his choice of words. Your own kind.
For some reason she feels like she has displeased him, and a tiny frown pulls at her mouth. “Who is my kind, Crevan?” Merida asks him genuinely, despite the obvious distaste he has for her even admitting she had somehow been tied to Loess. She has always been better on her own (this is a fact that still rings true as her fox-self becomes more skilled and mature), but for a fleeting moment as she watches the dark wolf beside her, she longs for more. The pack mentality, though it runs deep in a wolf’s blood, is not the case for a fox - but something stirs within her, perhaps the equine, longs for a sense of complacency and meaning, or at least a loyalty that she has not yet found, especially in Loess.
