Summer has finally arrived! The sun has melted the snows in the north and the southern territories are beginning to grow uncomfortably hot and dry. Pups are being born and life seems to finally be getting back to normal after the cure for the disease was found. But how long will it last?
The cure has been found! Wolves on Anikira are recovering from the disease and life is moving forward with the promise of pups in many packs. And yet darkness looms on the horizon, daring the creatures of Anikira to relax and allow themselves to get comfortable once more.
[attr="class","pltxt"] On, and on, and further on he had traveled, until his weary paws grew raw and bloodied with the constant travel and his tired bones became heavy beyond all measure. He did not walk so proudly anymore, no; neither was his coat gleaming and soft as it had once been. He was in disrepair, yes. Disarray. Discord. Utter and total dishevelment.
He wasn't actually entirely certain that last one was a word, but it sounded close enough to count and he really didn't care besides.
No disease ate at the Goblin King. No hateful symptom of age or enduring streak of rotten luck in hunting had any culpability in his wretched state. At four years of age, he was in the prime of his life yet, and he had traveled through enough verdant lands that lay yet unclaimed by meddling lesser wolves that taking prey for himself had been a trifling matter. Indeed, he was not underfed even now; physically, he was quite healthy, but for three burden of his weariness.
He had enjoyed foul luck in the western lands, enough so that some time in quiet thought - once the storm of his outrage had at last run its course - had led him to the conclusion that it was time, for now, to leave that part of Anikira altogether, and strike out for the east, where he would be unknown and so perhaps more successful.
His disgruntlement, yes, that was the true source of his unkempt fur and faintly trembling, exhausted body. It was the true reason why he had wandered so far, so unceasingly so. He could scarcely sleep for the constant hounding of the memory of his many recent failures. His paws had itched whenever he lingered too long - his whole body became like a thunderclap without culmination whenever he came to rest.
He found water eventually - boiling, poisoned water, too near the geyser fields to be worth the risk of drinking. The heat it gave off was soothing, though - and so, with a beleaguered sigh, the dethroned king allowed himself to fall gracefully beside the water for another stolen moment of respite.
While Keres was never completely alone, her journey was plagued by periods of loneliness. She would go days without seeing even a hare, and Lethe would disappear just when she needed her most. The white wolf was starting to get on her nerves, today particularly as she ambled onward without aim. Her mood was diminished, a depressive phase that was not uncommon. She let out an airy sigh, trying to come to terms with the fact that she was alone. Finally, however, when the female raised her head she spotted a cream colored male. His fur blended into the scenery, making her do a double take to make sure she was in fact seeing something other than dirt and water.
One thing she did notice about her ivory friend was the fact that she hated strangers. Lethe always showed up when Keres was alone, which often invoked her suspicions but she had long since accepted the she-wolf's unusual nature. Keres liked her solitude as well, which led them to a mutual understanding. Keres paused in her step and glanced backwards. No sign of white fur.
Alone, alone, alone. she hummed to herself, alone no more. Keres was wary to approach the male, however. Most wolves didn't seem to like Keres, and she could never figure out why. So, instead of trying to go up to him, she decided to observe him and decide whether or not she liked him. If she did, it would not hurt to try and make a friend. Maybe she could prove to Lethe she wasn't the loser the white wolf often commented about.
Home is far away, and so I must make this my home, she reminded herself as she lowered herself to the ground, This horrid wasteland with out trees... but maybe trees are not so far away. Letting her muscles relax for the first time since she woke up, she carefully crouched down so she was out of sight. Her eyes tracked him through the stringy grass which tickled her nose and waved in the light breeze.
If he sees me, Keres thought, I must not run away again. That would not do for me, and Lethe would only laugh at my cowardice.
Word Count || 370 Tags || Jareth Notes || Hello, I hope it's okay that I joined. Just so you know, if it hasn't become evident, Lethe is a figment of Keres' imagination. She's a hallucination due to her schizoaffective disorder.
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[attr="class","pltxt"]So caught up in his own self pity was he that Jareth was not immediately aware that he had company. Neither did Anikira speak to him and let him know that there was another wolf nearby, watching and following him. The stormy malaise that had settled so heavily across his shoulders did not allow the outside world to intrude easily upon him.
It was not Anikira that finally broke through to him, nor any outside stimulus or disturbance. Jareth may be attuned to the great magic of the continent, but he was at his very core a mortal wolf like all the others, and possessed all the same senses and instincts of the lesser creatures he walked among. He did not smell or hear his silent observer, but he scarcely needed to when he could feel their eyes boring into his pelt.
“If you are waiting to see if I will come to you, you are mistaken.” The words issued loudly from his mouth, but his tone was dry and lacking the ringing amusement it so usually possessed, and he did not immediately deign to look about and find where his erstwhile companion might be lurking. “I fear I am in little mood for games today. If you have business with me, it would be wise to step forward and announce as much.”
But his curiosity had become stirred even as he spoke - grudgingly, sluggishly stirred, but stirred nevertheless. He had not yet encountered anyone who had chosen to stop and watch him rather than immediately engage. Those who were not the first to become aware of their mutual proximity had not been given the chance to stop and stare before Jareth had initiated their interactions.
He was not in the mood for games, true, but that did not dampen his curiosity - and so, after another moment, he stood again with a beleaguered sigh. Very well, then; he supposed he had nothing better to do, in any event.
“Don't make me come looking for you, please,” he called, casting his brilliant green eyes about. “I truly would rather avoid a game today, I hope you understand.”
notes: Sorry for the wait! tagged: @keres, word count: 370
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Jaidah is one of the albinos on the site, a brand new character brought to life by a brand new player. It is interesting to see how such a pure looking being could be wrapped up in the angsty claws that is Irkalla! We will definitely be staying in-tune with this character to see just what heights Bird is able to take her!
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