The Other Side
12-03-2013, 09:04 PM
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12-03-2013, 10:40 PM
Cormalin |
Cormalin had been, more or less, keeping to the shadows. He was biding his time, letting his ribs and other injuries heal. He was well aware of the goings on in the pack that held him captive. Scents and sounds brought to him on the air. His thicker fur kept him well insulated as winter swept in, chilling the bones of thinner furred wolves. And as it rolled in, his ribs were nearly healed. He kept to himself, occasionally curling with Bronze to lend support. The older male was missing his family, something Cormalin himself shared. His family, which had been torn into just because of one wolf?s pricked pride. Surreal had fought bravely, though he?d seen that she?d lost, hardly unexpected; it was her first real fight after all. Chrysanthe, possibly blinded by Argent, whom he?d noted a significant absence of lately. His sons, fighting together against two female, Alsander coming out victorious, and being smart by leaving, his leg too injured to continue. Caerul had fought well too. He?s seen Obsidian and Sarak in the fighting too. Of all the fights, they happened to have two big cats. Unusual mix, but then again, a horse among wolves was an even odder mixture. Cormalin sighed, running his tongue over a raised patch of fur on one leg. His ears swiveled absently, taking in the sounds that rode the icy winter breezes, and a cry reached his ears, along with the scent of fox. He was on his paws in a flash of black fur, and off with a flick of his heavy tail. The cry for help was from a child, and Glaciem or not, children were precious. He found the source of the cry, and soared over the pup, loosing a deep throated snarl akin to a roar as he bore down on the unfortunate fox. His paws hit first, bearing his weight from the leap, centering on the creature?s back and shoulders, before his head whipped down, finding the neck as his hind end stepped away to shield his underside. It was done in a swift jerk, the neck snapping roughly, severing the life of the creature. He stepped away, nosing the fox. ?Sleep well.? Mismatched gold and blue gaze fell upon the pup, searching the little male for injuries. ?Are you alright, little one?? His deep, faintly Irish inflected voice was gentle, as his tail lowered to a proper set. This was likely yet another of the snow king?s offspring. How did the male keep track? ?First time for a fox, hm?? |
12-04-2013, 06:17 AM
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12-04-2013, 02:19 PM
Cormalin |
Cormalin smiled faintly as the pup assured him that he was alright. The little male was well spoken, rather like Surreal at that age, and his eyes were almost white, though Cormalin thought he could just barely discern a faint, barely noticeable tinge of green. He was made up of browns, but Cormalin imagined this was temporary. Often pups were born nondescript, and as they grew older, their markings would clarify. Surreal and her siblings had been this way. Surreal?s Timber markings hadn?t shown up until three months of age. The pup nodded to his second question, confirming what Cormalin had guessed. This was the first fox the little male had ever seen. The pup asked a question, and Cormalin had a moment of vivid recollection. Of his father bringing back a hare from one of the Hunters? kills. It was the first time Cormalin had ever seen a dead creature. He had asked this very same question. His father had given him an answer, one that he now voiced. ?It?s a different kind of sleep. He will never wake again. He is at peace.? Cormalin raised his head, winter breeze fingering the thick ruff of his neck, the lower point of his white four-point star narrowing as his brow points furrowed. Gazing about, Cormalin asked ?Now where is your mother, young one? It?s dangerous to wander alone, as you?ve just learned.? He winked gently at the young pup. ?Best to wait until you?re bigger.? |
12-04-2013, 06:04 PM
(This post was last modified: 12-04-2013, 06:05 PM by Rincavornon.)
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12-05-2013, 07:02 PM
Cormalin |
Cormalin could see the mixture of awe and fear as the youngster stared at the fox?s cooling body, before he came to ask a question, looking up at Cormalin for confirmation. The Valhallan smiled gently. ?In a way.? He hoped it was true, dreaming forever after you died. If it was, then Akana was in a happy place, and he would find her when he too joined the earth. The pup shook himself of the remaining clumps of snow, stepping back to fully gaze up at Cormalin. Was I really that small, once? Cormalin wondered, gazing down at the pup as the little one gave a little grin, the exact look a pup held on his face when he might have snuck out from under his mother?s nose. Cormalin listened to the pup?s explanation, unable to repress the low chuckle at the child?s last few words. Out of his own litter, Erani had been the good pup. He, Anali, and Norik had been the real troublemakers, though as soon as his mentor, the Beta he would have taken the place of, had begun training him, his own maverick streak had died down. Erani, though, had always been the quiet one. The watcher, the listener. The stern one whenever he or their siblings cane back from play with scratches. He grinned down at the pup, tail returning the wag with two slow sweeps, tips of his fur dragging the dewclaw deep snow. Dewclaw deep to him at least. On this pup, it was up to the foreleg joint. ?I?m sure you are a wonderful pup.? And hopefully, he wouldn?t grow up to be yet another problem for Valhalla. Right now, this pup was like any other, innocent, sweet, and trusting. Malleable. The smallest things would have an impact on his future psyche and personality. In Valhalla, his surrounding would have molded him into a kind, generous wolf that loved his family and pack, yet wouldn?t hesitate to help a stranger, but he?d be unique enough to have his own quirks. Azalea, was an example of those quirks. Surreal, being the daughter of his sister, and his niece and pupil, was growing into a wonderful strong personality, with all the soft gentleness of a kind wolf. With one eager mind for learning. Cormalin gazed down at the pup before him, feeling a note of sadness creep into his heart. What other path was open to this little one but a path of hatred and condescending for Valhalla, with a father like his, who would, no doubt, teach his offspring that Valhallans were weak, and to be spit upon and disrespected? The pup?s question brought his mind back to the situation, and he chuckled. ?Yes. I think that?s big enough.? It was tempting to nose the pup playfully, as he would have with Surreal or his other nieces and nephews when they?d been this age, but he forced himself not to. The less of his scent that hung around the general populace, and the less they recalled of him, the more likely he?d become a background prop. Unmissed if he was suddenly gone. And he would be, at some point. He was old, as was Bronze. He wanted to die with his family and pack around him. He wanted to assure that Surreal took his place when he stepped down. And he wanted to see, hopefully, grandchildren. Cael and Imena were the most likely candidates for that little hope. The spar between those two reminded him of himself and Akana. He saw the adoration in the pup's expression, and wished that he could have seen that look in his own children's eyes at that age. He also knew there could be problems with this adoration. The pup would look for him is he vanished any time soon, and pups had a surprisingly strong memory for the things or wolves they liked. And to tell their mothers all about it. |