mortis fatalis

What was this? Another new wolf his father had brought home? The young pup was all too eager to meet everyone and anyone. He had tried to get her den info from his puppa, but Sirius had admitted to not knowing. That was okay, he would figure it out on his own. It was a challenge. Like all challenges, it had to have some exciting prospects. Like sneaking out of his parents den in the middle of the night, instead of waiting for the day like a reasonable wolf.

He stepped over sleeping bodies, and shuffled to the entrance, for prancing away through the long grass. He sniffed the air, searching high and low for any new scents. He didn’t know what she smelled like, or looked like, but dammit, he would find her!

He had only the partial moon to help him, and he stumbled about for a while, catching a scent of her here or there, but he could find no den. He was thoroughly confused right up until the point where he tripped over something in the long grass, wings flaring to catch his balance.

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H E S T E R

The night was lukewarm, but the bite of fall was slowly beginning to take hold, underneath the scents of summer, which were fading with each day gone by. The moon graced the sky, and the stars were faint, though she could still count them if she tried. Hester blinked slowly, and though she laid on her belly, upright as she always was, sleep was slim pickings this night. A pack -- she'd joined a pack after finding this land so soon, something she hadn't expected. That had been her goal, even if she hadn't expected it to happen so easily. She'd craved family so badly in her youth, and now that she'd possibly found the beginnings of it, she hadn't the faintest idea what to do with it.

Shuffling sounded nearby, but there were wolves all around, sleeping, and she expected that it was one of them rearranging themselves. That proved untrue, though, when a hulking figure stepped into her view. Hester tensed, ready to shoot to her paws -- when he tripped. Over her. She grunted low in her throat and cocked a head, turning to watch the wolf right himself. Wings flared wide, and Hester gaped.

The young wolf carried the scent of the the pack, and satisfied with that, Hester relaxed. "Have you four left paws instead of two or each?" she asked, amusement clear in her tone.

She walks. "She speaks." She thinks.

mortis fatalis

Oh whaddya know? He had found her. He blinked at the stranger with big blue eyes, still reeling from surprise and loss of balance. The expression didn’t last for long, before he broke out into a grin, as bright as a sun over the horizon. He shuffled his feet and looked at the paws Hester had spoken of. “It sure feels like it sometimes!” he agreed, showing her just how big his puppy paws were. He still had a lot of growing left to do, if the size of his paws were anything to go by. Sometimes they made him as clumsy as could be.

“Are you Hester then? Da said you was a warrior and a new wolf, and you joined by killing a bear what a showing! Was you awfully frightened?” he wanted to know. Bombarding her with questions in the night like they held no end. He was a curious pup, and Hester had fought a bear with her father, and then tussled in the arena. She already had an interesting story, and she had barely joined. What even was up with that? He had to know everything.

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H E S T E R

Hester watched, mainly amused at the theatrics of the youngster but curious. So this is what puppies were like? She'd never met one. They'd been as rare to her as ore from a rock, and having been previously enjoying a quiet night, she was having some small amount of trouble keeping up with the pup's rapid-fire questions. She examined the paw he offered to her and nodded, as if deciding something. "My, what large paws you have. Do you use them to slay great beasts?" she asked in amusement.

"Aye, i am Hester. Aye, I am the newest warrior to your clan," she said. "I crippled the bear; it hurt your father's wee leopard, though, so the killing blow was his." SHe amended the details he'd given patiently; what else had she to do this night? She hadn't planned on meeting a pup, but she certainly didn't know where to deliver him, should she decide to find someone who knew the young one's name. And, Hester decided, he is still within pack territory, so that was good enough for her. She wasn't certain if pups were allowed outside of the pack without an escort, but she also wasn't anxious to test that in the dead of night.

Hester's laugh was quiet so as not to wake any of the sleeping wolves nearby who had also decided to sleep beneath the stars this night. "Aye," she said finally, answering the last question he'd hurled at her. "I was shaking in my pelt." A slight exaggeration, perhaps she considered. "A good warrior knows when to be wary. Fighting a bear is a good time to be. Have you seen the size of their paws?" She recalled, almost perfectly, that its paws had been as large as her head, if not larger. She flicked her right ear to bring attention to it. "It sliced my ear in half, you know."

She walks. "She speaks." She thinks.

He peered curiously at this mystery fighter, who had won his dad’s respect and taken on a bear with him. “I’m going to. I’m going to take on every kind of beast and bring their pelts back to the Armada” he declared fearlessly, having never had that idea before that moment, but instantly clinged to it as an absolute.

She answered all his questions, bringing an intense feeling of joy to the young pup. He looked up at her with big wide eyes, loving every moment of her very short stories. “Hi Hester, I’m Mortis” he said, realising he had laxed on introductions - he had already known her name, but she didn’t know his.

“I heard Bast got hurt, she’s in Auntie Io’s cottage now healing” he explained. He could only imagine his titan father bringing down the killing blow to the bear. Ghee whizz!

She admitted fear in the face of the bear, and he liked to think he would be fearless. She flicked her ear and pointed out the injury, and he leaped forward, almost knocking her over again. “Oh, oh, I wanna see!” he said breathlessly. A real battle wound!

H E S T E R

Hester nodded quietly at the boy and gestured to the edges of the territory protected by Ashen Armada. "We should display your victories for the others to see. Perhaps if the world knows of the great warrior we keep, they will heed our presence." Hester didn't know much about the youngster, but he seemed like he had some growing to do. Besides his wings and some stray markings, though, he was the spitting image of his father, and if he grew to be half the warrior the latter was in battle . . . well. Hester didn't suppose that her words would be completely untrue.

His introduction wasn't lost on her, but instead of replying, she gave the pup a small smile in return. It was indeed nighttime, but between wolves and their very good vision, she thought the boy might see it, especially with the slivered moon high in the sky. Hester nodded at his next words. "Aye," she said simply. "I checked on her before I slept. Hopefully, she bears no scars or long-lasting injuries from it." Hester didn't know the snow leopard well enough to know if she would take pride in a scar as she herself did. It seemed that hoping for her well-being would be neutral enough ground, though.

The boy dove forward at the mention of her now scabbed over ear, and Hester let loose a grunt that ended in a chuckle as the boy landed on her. Yes, he was very heavy, but as he hadn't grown into his full size yet, Hes had no trouble taking his full weight. "Do you remember," Hester asked through her quiet laughter, "the very large paws I mentioned?" It was a light chastisement; her nose was hardly sore from the bop it'd received but the boy was big and probably growing taller everyday, as puppies did. But he would likely, at the very least, be as large as Sirius, and it would do him well to be aware of his size.

She walks. "She speaks." She thinks.

He puffed up in pride at the thought of displaying his victories. He was really liking this Hester woman. She seemed to really get him. With the first flickers of adoration in his eyes, the young boy would gulp up everything the older wolf had to tell him.

“Bast is always fine, she’ll make a full recovery” he said, knowing no such thing for facat, but feeling it in his heart. He was a pup and his world wouldn’t change. His father was always getting into fights, and bounced back just fine. He was sure Bast would do the same.

He pretty much booped her in his excitement to get closer. He would examine her torn ear even as she gently told him off. He blushed a little and glanced back to her eyes. “I’m sorry Miss Hester, I didn’t mean to knock into you” he explained. His excitement and his clumsiness were often at war. “Can you show me how you fought the bear?” he wanted to know.

H E S T E R

The boy's words about Bast caused Hester to arch a brow silently. It told her more than the young had likely meant to. Primarily, that Sirius had a habit of sticking his nose where it could get slapped. It didn't surprise her as much as it ought to; she remembered thinking him foolish to close the distance between himself and the bear as he had a few days prior, and it seemed he had a habit of ballsy moves like that.

She felt Mortis' eyes on her ear as he examined what of it was left. It had been cut just a two inches above where her audit met her head. She was having to work to get used to the sensation of no longer being able to fully pin that ear, although she could still close it somewhat. "You're petite compared to both the bear and your Da," she said, an attempt to placate the worry she spotted on his face. She stood and stretched, not overly bothered with his request. She hadn't been sleeping, after all; why should the youth's request bother her, if she had nothing else to do? "Sure," she said, padding away from the other sleeping wolves and in the direction of the arena. "But away from the others so they can sleep like responsible adults."

She broke into a light trot, hoping the boy would follow her. It was a few minutes before she suddenly sprint, turning quickly to run in the zigzag motions that she'd used to keep the bear fumbling and confused. It felt nice to move after being prone for so long before the young wolf had stepped on her, and Hester called over her shoulder. "If I recall, it was something like this?"

She walks. "She speaks." She thinks.

He snorted at being called petite beside a bear. He basically considered his father to be a bear as well, so there was little difference being compared to him. It did earn Hester a grin, and a wiggle of his little puppy butt.

She directed him to come away from the grass, calling neither of them respectable adults. Apparently. Sirius was a bit of an insomniac, as well their Empress, Deathbelle, so he only raised an eyebrow at that.

It did however, have the added benefit of reminding him what he had been searching for in the first place. "So wheres you den, anyway?" He asked as he followed her. He managed to keep up with her light Trot. Sirius worked his pups hard, so they were reasonably fit. She broke into a zigzag pattern, and he laughed and he took off after her through the long grass. "Roooar!" He yelled "im a bear!"

H E S T E R

Mortis kept up easily enough, and Hester paused for a moment, considering his question. "I sleep beneath the stars the Mother has fixed in the sky," she said in what she thought was a simple reply. "It is a warm night, and I saw no reason to find shelter." With that, she resumed her romping, eyes casting cursory glances about to be sure her and the boy were safe. Although they were close to the Armada's borders, they still dwelled within them, so they should be safe enough, she decided. One ear flicked back as Mortis charged, and Hester grinned over her shoulder at the boy.

"How fearsome you are," she tossed in his direction, over her shoulder. "Please, have mercy!" A light chuckle fell from her lips as her body relished in the movement. Her haunches, though, were starting to ache from the repetitive movements. She was just about to call for a temporary ceasefire when she noted movement ahead, and her golden eyes narrowed as she came to a sudden stop.

"Mortis," she snapped, hoping the young wolf would note the change in tone and not breeze right by where she'd stopped. Two coyotes stalked from the underbrush ahead, just outside of Armada's territory, and Hester let loose a growl in warning. Her hackles stood almost immediately, and her ears pinned as she considered that she was unaware if Mortis had ever been taught to protect himself. Hester took a step forward and glared at the two predators, tail swishing behind her in consternation as she regarded them both.

She walks. "She speaks." She thinks.

He scrunched up his nose and looked at her funny. What a strange, and weird idea. Sure, he occasionally slept under the stars so he could watch them with Asla. But living there, perminantl? That was just weird! “But what about when it rains, and where do you store your stuff, like your pets and trophies or whatever. What if you have a sleepover with friends? That's like saying you have no home. Why don’t you have a den and then sleep in front of it? Like sleeping on a porch. Io has a porch.” He prattled on senselessly.

“No mercy!” he yowled when play turned into chasing. He felt like it was something Sirius would say, anyway. He almost crashed into Hester when she came to a stop. And he started to pounce her, and stopped mid-attack. She had called out his name, serious and stern for the first time since he had met her. He froze, blinking up at the warrior he admired in surprise. He did, however, finally realise he was suppose to be putting his attention elsewhere.

He moved his gaze and found the coyotes, and bristled when he noticed them. He lowered his voice. “Odette’s chicken coop attracts them. We need to kill them before they find a way to sneak over there” he hissed urgently. He had guarded them a few nights with Asla, and found the prospect of doing something useful thrilling. He did, however, look to Hester for guidance. She was after all the adult here.

H E S T E R

Hester didn't respond to his waterfall of questions, instead choosing to pay attention to the looming threat. The coyote's split and walked around them both, heads low as they circled the she-wolf and Mortis. Hester watched them with a gold, calculating gaze, noting that if she pounced on one, the other would either go after her or Mortis. Likely the former, she decided. Coyotes rarely hunted in pack unless challenging a larger predator, and while she wasn't as big as Sirius and hardly as big as Mortis, Hester was most certainly bigger than a coyote.

Mortis' words fell into her ears, and that made sense. If they'd hunted on this land before, in search of poultry, they would know that wolves dwelled here and wouldn't come alone. "I couldn't agree more," Hester said as the others drew nearer. She parted her lips to speak again, to ask if the boy knew how to defend himself, when one of the coyotes struck, latching onto her left shoulder. She felt its teeth pierce first her pelt and then her skin, and with a grunt, Hester turned, latched onto the other's neck, and set her jaw with brutal efficiency. She wrenched her head to the side, shaking the smaller canine, and the sound of its neck snapping sent satisfaction rolling through her.

She dropped the body and turned to the other coyote, teeth bared and maw bloody as she snarled.

She walks. "She speaks." She thinks.

Mortis stuck close to the adult, though he itched to chase the coyotes, it would be a great game, running them through the long grass. But if he did that, he risked losing sight of them, and if he lost them, Odette’s chickens might suffer. He would feel bad if that happened, his mother had said she liked them.

Before he could consider what to do, one of the coyote’s attacked. He jumped in surprise, and turned to Hester, but the warrior already had things under control. Seeing his chance - the other coyote was sneaking up on him, looking for an opening, Mortis decided to beat him to it. He jumped, wings flaring as he landed heavily on the coyote. It yelped in surprise, perhaps by the way Mort had kept to Hester’s shadow, it hadn’t expected him to have the confidence to attack.

His feline - like claws dug into its flesh, and well he lacked the elegance of Hester, he had a great deal of attributes. His wings came up, shielding him and blocking the coyote’s sight to freedom, his claws digging deep into its coat, and then his teeth would find its head, and grab it, tossing it to the side to make himself an opening. He would strike again, and pull out its throat. He let go of the bloody flesh, dropping his wings and getting back to his feet, looking up at Hester, blood dripping from his maw, and a grin on his face. “Oh, I think we won!”

H E S T E R

She took a step forward ready to pounce on the other predator, but Mortis beat her there, ripping into the coyote with wild abandon. It was moments before the creature was dead, and Hester nodded with a grin on her maw. "Yes, it seems we did." She cast a glance over their surroundings, but there seemed to be no other coyotes near. Satisfied that she'd neither heard nor seen anything, Hester bent to grab the one she'd killed. "Come, little warrior. We mustn't leave them on the pack lands. Let your kill stay on the borders to warn the others away." It was an echo of what she'd said earlier; with that, she dragged her dead coyote the few feet to Armada's borders, tossing the body over with some effort. She would wait for Mortis to do the same before she turned to walk towards the inlet that allowed water to enter the land.

The was a slight limp to her stride, and it would likely become worse if she didn't see a healer sooner rather than later. That could likely wait until morning as every wolf seemed to be asleep or spending their time elsewhere. She knelt to drink from the water, washing the taste of blood from her lips; the wound was at too awkward and angle for Hester to give it and initial clean so she stepped into the frigid water, rolling until she felt enough of the water had made it into the wound before standing up and shaking her fur.

She walks. "She speaks." She thinks.

“Ohhhh, what an idea” he murmured in excitement. He had never considered that before, sticking dead things on the borders in warning. It was in line with what she had said earlier about displaying his trophies, he just hadn’t considered what she meant. His thoughts had flitted by too quickly to settle on it.

He watched as Hester picked up her kill and began to drag it. With his tail wagging behind him, the boy grabbed his own kill. His wings hung up high on either side of him, like some predatory goose, his head held high to drag as much of the coyote into the air as he could. Like this, he pranced towards the border, and brought his kill across it. He didn’t toss it, he wasn’t quite certain he could manage the action as easily as Hester had.

They made their way to the water that ran by their borders, and he watched as she drank from it, before limping into the water. “Oh, did you get injured?” he asked in some surprise. He hadn’t seen her take a hit.

H E S T E R

At the boy's question, Hester used her head to gesture at her injured shoulder. The wounds were visible through her wet fur, and they were clearly punctures. They were deeper than she'd originally thought, and she rolled in the water again, doing her best to wash away the rest of the blood she'd seen. Her body would staunch the flow from the wounds soon, so she could wait until morning to find a healer for it. For now, though, she stepped from the water, ignoring the chills on her spine as a stiff wind placed in her freshly washed fur. She bent her head low, grabbed moss in her mouth and chewing it before spitting it back out and doing what she could to pack the wounds.

She knew little about healing, but that had always seemed to work to keep further infection from spreading. The few scars she hadn't gained in this land were wounds that hadn't quite healed correctly; but they also hadn't gotten infected and that was enough for her.

"A few punctures," Hester said after she was done. "Nothing that can't wait until the morning." She nodded to herself. "The Mother lost two more souls tonight, but it was a victorious brawl for us."

She walks. "She speaks." She thinks.

He squinted, taking a closer look at the injuries. He reckoned, with his inexperienced eye, that she was going to have a nice scar on her shoulder after this. He sat back on his hunches as she rolled in the water, wondering what she planned on doing now. She was the adult here, after all. Was she going to go to Auntie Io about the shoulder?

He was beginning to think she was a bit of a healer herself. After washing the wound, she packed it with moss, which he only vaguely knew about from his time with Auntie Io.

She cleared his questioning expression when she said it could wait until morning. He was beginning to think there was nothing she couldn’t do. “My Mother didn’t lose two souls… Did she?” the boy looked at her in confusion.

H E S T E R

Hester peered at the boy, same as he had her, and realized for the first time that her beliefs could very well not be reflected in this land. "I should hope not," she said with amusement. She tilted her head and pawed lightly at the ground. "The Mother," she said carefully, slowly, considering where to start because there was simply so much.

"The Mother," she began again, with more surety in her voice, "is the creator of our realm. She blessed us with the air that we breathe and the herbs that our healers use. The water that cleanses our pelts and the trees that give shade in the harsh sun. She is the reason why there is a sky to gaze into, and her sons -- Leviticus, who brings the sunrise, and Leviathon, who brings the sunset -- are the reasons we have warmth to bathe in and moonlight by which to hunt."

Was that a good enough explanation? It seemed, to Hester, to explain all that surrounded them in its entirety. The Mother was the reason nature was fruitful and there wasn't, in her mind, a better way to explain it. She nodded to the sky, to the stars twinkling above. "The All Father is her mate; they've been separated for a long, long time. Longer than anyone knows. So he adorns her world with the creatures and beasts, a compliment to her creations and a gift for the distance they cannot cross." It sounded almost romantic, Hester decided, these ideals that she believed in. "And for every soul the Mother loses, the All Father adorns her night sky with another star to light our way."

She walks. "She speaks." She thinks.

The pup wrinkled up his nose, and looked a little confused as Hester began to speak, and then it cleared, and his eyes brightened. “ohhh,” he said, a touch dismissively. “You believe in a God, like Venom’s puppa did? Dad said it was foolish to believe they descended from a god, and just have a sup-sup-suprity? Complex” superiority he explained. He had heard a little about his puppas feeling on the subject, but not much. Sirius didn’t seem to like talking about Archon.

Mortis didn’t have much of an opinion either way himself. He had never actually talked to someone who believed in something greater than themselves. Mortis just knew that Sirius believed in what he could control with his own two paws - and there was very little the powerful Warlord could not.

“So that's why you said the Mother has two new souls?”