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  • Beqanna

    version 22: awakening


    GHAUL -- Year 209


    "(souls are not meant to live more than once — death was not meant to be temporary, and she is so sure that every time her heart starts to beat again that irreversible damage is further inflicted)" -- Anonya, written by Colby

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    it's better to walk softly when you're on the run; have at him
    Time moves quickly when measured by how much a young wolf has grown. Only a year had passed since Firen had put the frozen isle behind him, but much has changed for the shifter. Alone, he had wandered the common lands, perfect the gifts he had been given and living in the old ways of the wolf. No longer simpering in his father's shadow, he had begun to feel the possibilities future could hold.  Tephra had spit him out and he hadn't gone back, hadn't lost sleep over his sudden departure, but Icicle Isle called him back. The Isle, and thoughts of pack life.

    Tucking his wings of flame along his topline, Firen plummets towards the world below like a comment. He lands a little less gracefully than intended , still a novice when it came to flight but getting better with each journey. Around his broad, black paws the thin layer of autumn snow begins to melt within moments, and farther out it glimmers with the reflected, crimson light from his wings.

    With thick ears pinned against his skull, his dark wolfish heard turns to take in the seemingly endless tundra. In this barren stretch of the north, his approach must have been visible for miles. There would be no chance to hunt until he moved south. He had learned a little of Icicle Isle's geography from the Crevan and he wonders now, as he sets off in a loose, ground covering trot how long it will be before he is discovered by the wolf or fox.

    Colby Squirt
    [Image: Firen-insane.gif]
    here comes a candle to light you to bed
    here comes a chopper to chop off your head

    It’s just the one today – smaller than her mother, but just as deadly, just as frightening. The elder monster is still in Pangea, but the younger has ventured out. What are borders to such creatures? Anaxarete had commanded that they not eat or harm anyone that was loyal to her.

    But she said nothing of the rest of the world.

    So the monster slinks northward. The cold is irritating, it much prefers warmer weather, but the challenge is interesting so it slinks into the water, a deadly serpent aiming for the ice-strewn shores ahead. In a world of such vivid white, there is no chance for cover. No chance to blend in.

    Stealth is all well and good, but this creature does not require it to hunt.

    Shadow-black eyes immediately spot the fire-blaze of the creature, standing out so perfectly against the show, and as the monster emerges from the icy waters – that is where it goes.

    Since stealth is not on its side, pure power is what it will use. Its approach begins slowly, and gradually the pace begins to pick up – wicked knife tail flashing behind it and silver gleaming teeth showing with a snarl as it charges with all of its might towards that unlucky beacon of fire.

    ripley & nostromo

    Firen keeps the sea in view as he travels south, not wanting to make an unplanned trip to the interior. All is quiet, almost eerily so, but he reminds himself that most living things would have migrated south when autumns chill fist set it. Miles pass, and the brindle wolf falls into the rhythm of travel, thoughtless and meditative.

    When he finally does feel the press of anther mind against his own it causes his hackles to rise.

    Fangs flash brilliant and white against the inky blackness of his gums, plumes breath steaming out like smoke in the places where his canines meet. But these weapons which had cut with such precision into the thrumming arteries of lesser creatures are of no use here; he is a warrior, but not a fool. It takes only a moment for him to accept that this is a match he doesn't want to fight.

    With unnatural speed, the other worldly monster rushes towards him. It's thoughts assault his mind, loud and frenzied. It is like nothing he has seen before.  The young wolf shifts his weight backward, the muscles of his shoulders and haunches coiling and his wings of flame surging higher. A wave of heat washes over him, revealing prickly grasses below the now melted snow.

    Like an arrow from a bow, the dark wolf shoots forward. But the creature is impossibly close. His wings pump downward as he curses himself for not practicing the art of flight more often - for indulging in the hunt when he should have realized he would not always be at the top of the food chain.

    Adrenaline fuels his leap and his weight lifts, he hopes that the flame will catch the creature in the face, giving him precocious extra seconds to become airborne.

    ooc: some power playing is fine to move the tread along, feel free to have her snag him out of the air or assume her attack hits. Colby I had time and muse so I replied but please still throw your girl in!
    [Image: Firen-insane.gif]

    { and all we are is skin and bone trained to get along,
    forever going with the flow but you're friction }
    She did not often venture beyond Sylva. Though with age it had become easier to communicate with others as she learned to read their lips and their body language, it was still a struggle. It was easier to just remain with the comforting familiarity of her family rather than subject herself to the humiliating pity that being deaf tended to garner from others.

    But she has been testing her wings over the last few months, and the freedom that it gave her was exhilarating. She could explore Beqanna without the risk of running into anyone. She could admire the jagged mountain-tops and the glittering surface of the waters with a peace that was not possible on foot. She could feel the wind as it sifted through the feathers of her wings and not have to care that there was a whole chorus of conversations going on around here that she couldn’t hear.

    Today she ventures over Icicle Isle, and even in the air it is undeniably colder here. She wants to tuck her wings close to her for warmth, and she debates going back when a flash of fire below catches her eye. Circling closer, the sight of the alien-like creature stalking towards the fire-wolf causes her heart to lurch in her chest. For a moment she simply hovers, warring with herself on what to do. She didn’t know either of these creatures from anywhere, and this was not her fight.

    But she didn’t know if she could live with herself if she left now.

    She drops lower, until she is just behind the wolf-boy and facing the creature. She could shatter it, she thinks; that would be easier and fool-proof, if she had mastered the skill the way her mother had. But she is not her mother. She still accidentally shattered things she didn’t mean to, sometimes without even touching them. And so instead she opens her mouth, sucking in a breath and exhaling a stream of fire into the face of the creature, hoping that it would be enough of a distraction to allow the boy to get aiborn.

    I figured she would make things worse by just making Nostromo madder.

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