Korr 'The Moonlight Shines Silver, My Teeth Shine Red' He moved by night, passing like a wraith in the shadow and leaving naught but scent in his passing. Silver eyes gleamed in the dark, as if the night was given flesh and made whole, made into something lethal and dangerous, that with every stride showed muscle rippling under an ebony pelt, begging for someone to take a chance and attack. It was too damn poetic for the brute to comprehend. He cared not whether he was intimidating, majestic or eerie. He couldn't be bothered to give a seagull's shite about it all. What he was bothered by, was the queer silence that this place held, as if everything was hushed, waiting for something to happen. His head lifted, gaze reaching towards the moon as she hung low, pregnant and full, the light outlining his dark fur in a halo of silver. As if seeking some guidance he lingered that way, head upturned and eyes focused upon the white moon. Of course, no advice came, no voices in his head nor a goddess descending to stand with him. No, just one wolf alone in the dark. Korr dropped his head, and for the first time he gazed at his surroundings, ears pricked, twitching to the faintest stirrings of the usual nightly chorus. This place was so quiet, so still... Was it only his presence that caused this? Or another's? "Speech"

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(OOC: Welcome to the site, Tribs ^^)

Surreal Adravendi

Surreal felt a considerably great deal better than her last trip east. Her shoulder was no longer sore, and her limp was gone. She would need to continue being careful about how much strain she put on the shoulder, but she was at a point where she needed to work it in order to rebuild its strength and muscle. So she was out on this moonlit, stone strewn expanse, puzzling over the past occupants. Her mother had visited this place on her tour of the packs to gain alliances, or at least assure that the other packs would have no trouble with Valhalla, as long as they gave Valhalla no trouble. This land had once belonged to the pack known as Ebony. But as her nose drifted over the ground, the scents were stale, scent markers completely gone. Had they merely moved on? Or had something akin to Valhallas fate transpired? Of course, were she merely to travel straight north, or northeast, she would have found the borders of the pack. She supposed she should travel north and check on her niece, Odette; see how Glaciem was now that its rightful claimant was on the throne. It did strike her as odd that she hadn’t seen Odette lately, now that her niece knew where she and her family were. Odette was a family loving wolf. But perhaps she had merely become busy running a pack. Surreals forward movement slowed as her nose traipsed across a freshly laid scent trail. Mismatched gold and blue eyes lifted in the direction of the owner, catching a glimpse of dark fur before the shadowy form of a stone blocked him from sight. She waffled for a moment. There were pros and cons to approaching a stranger in an area she wasn’t completely familiar with. He could be a wolf like those of Arcanum; happy to attack, kidnap, enslave, or maim a wolf just for a jolly. Finally, she came to a decision, circling around until she could pass by and continue on her walk. She wasn’t averse to company, but if this wolf was aggressive, fighting wasn’t an option quite yet. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Korr 'The Moonlight Shines Silver, My Teeth Shine Red' He was not alone, no. As he walked past a stone pillar, a glimpse of fur was all he was given, no scent and no warning. It immediately had his hackles lifting, the side of his scarred muzzle that was always pulled into a faint snarl lifted more, a silent rumble in his throat. He tensed, waiting for the ambush with a hot-blooded impatience, yet none came. He lowered his head, then strode out from behind the pillar to see the wolf skirting around him. Shameful. "Alone?" He grunted, silver eyes watching the female(he could pick up her scent now, the wind had not been favorable) intensely. He watched her body, focusing on the way she moved and reacted, rather than her words. He couldn't understand half of them anyway. Few he met since leaving his homeland had spoken as he; and he learned to not expect it.

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Surreal Adravendi

So it seemed that the stranger chose to approach. Surreal slowed to a stop as she heard his paws approaching, turning to face the male, giving him a swift, evaluating glance. In that glance, she took in his silver eyes, dark fur and strong, muscular build. The scars that littered his figure caught her attention, and she filed the defining marks away in the back of her mind. She settled into a light, relaxed stance, neutral and balanced as she took him in. She held no aggression or fear, just polite interest. That interest sharpened as he spoke, her ears perking in recognition. His accent brought a pang of longing for her cousins, Alsander, Caerul and Cael. Claire, she hadn’t been very well acquainted with before the black female had disappeared. “Currently, I am alone, yes.” Her own accent, one of mixed Russian and Educated Irish/English came on a midtone feminine voice. It was a soothing one, though nothing like the low, soft voice of her mother. Mismatched blue and gold gaze flicked to the moon briefly, though her ears remained trained on the shadowy male before her. If her mother was up there, she hoped to make her proud someday, and soon. Her eyes turned to the male again. “You’re welcome to join me; I don’t mind the company, so long as you behave yourself.” So far, while he hadn’t been an outright gentleman, he also hadn’t made a move to attack her or cause trouble that she’d seen. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Korr 'The Moonlight Shines Silver, My Teeth Shine Red' Her stance was neutral, so he kept his neutral as well, save the sharp attention he paid to her. He remained still as she examined him, blinking slowly in a mockery of boredom. His scars were earned, every one, and if he was a man with a larger vocabulary he could have told you where each one was eared, who it was by and when and why he had them. His gaze flickered to her ears, at the sudden attention when he had spoke. Curious. Her own voice had his attention, and his gaze moved to her. Her voice was odd, and it took him an obvious while to process her words, his head tilted just the slightest bit. "Behave. Never." A grin rolled across his features but it was gone as soon as it came, and he padded silently towards her. Her voice had him interested, and he studied her more, waiting for her to speak again. A hunch had both ears prick sharp at her, his eyes meeting her own, his voice a rumble bordering on a growl. "Cara nó namhaid?" There were faint traces of an accent akin to his... perhaps it was a stretch that his words would be understood, but the black longed for actual conversation, or at least to have his words understood. OOC: Translations Cara nó namhaid? - Friend or Foe?

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Surreal Adravendi

Surreal didn’t miss his reaction to her recognition; the swift upward flick of his eyes to her ears. It seemed he spoke more with is body than his voice. He could speak however. Judging by the amount of time he took to process her words, she guessed that common was not his first tongue. The intelligence in his eyes said he wasn’t a simpleton; far from it. His next words were said with a grin that broke his neutral expression before his face shut down again. Still, it elicited a gentle wag of her tail and smile as he padded forward. Then he gave her a sharp look, meeting her eyes directly. And his next words came out in an achingly familiar language. The last time she’d heard it spoken, her mother was teaching her son to speak it. Even as she smiled, her eyes held a flash of grief. "Sea, tá mé cara, chomh fada is nach bhfuil tú a dhéanamh dom an namhaid." Her voice was friendly, and as she stepped on, she kept an easy pace, offering him the choice to follow or stay behind. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

If the code works, hover over the gaelic for a translation.

Korr 'The Moonlight Shines Silver, My Teeth Shine Red' The wag of her tail settled him, the smile did not. A smile could be a lie, the tail rarely lied. However as she spoke, another grin broke out on his face, this time lasting longer 'ere he sealed it away again. "Clocha sneachta, deirfiúr! Ní bheidh ort trioblóide uaim." His tail wagged once, and he kept pace with her, neither walking ahead of her nor behind. He was quiet, ears twitching, picking up on the silence as they passed. Never ceased to amuse him how hushed everything would get when the wolves passed below. "Name Korr." He said at last, glancing down at her out of the corner of his eyes, silver gaze curious. Her accent had been a mixture, yet she spoke fluent Irish... just what was she? Of course the black was not going to ask; his Mam had raised him better. Translation: Hail, sister. You will not have trouble from me.

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OOC: That is so friggin cool! XD It works

Surreal Adravendi

The grin on his face reached his eyes as she answered him in the second language she knew so intimately. Her mother had drilled the language into her and her childrens heads so thoroughly, both she and her children may as well have been born to the language instead of the common tongue better known as English. It was the language that had been passed down through generations in the Nomads, and again in Redwood Pack and its forefathers. When her next litter was born, if she was blessed with one, she would carry on the tradition again, drilling it into their minds until they knew every syllable and nuance. She held a secret worry, however. Both she and Falk hadn’t been at the top of their health when they’d coupled, and she hadn’t felt the same way yet as she had before. It was early yet, but she still worried. When the male spoke again, it proved that English was far from the language he knew. He spoke smoothly in this language. His assurance that she would have no trouble from her brought in return a nod of acknowledgement. ”"Tá áthas orm; tá sé ró-álainn oíche chun taitneamh a bhaint troid."” They walked in silence for a while, and her movement was back to the elegant poise of a queen; smooth strides, head raised to the wind. Her tail was level with her hindquarters. There was no ‘better than you’ prissiness to her body language; merely self-assurance and polish that came with having had Erani for a mother. That nasty limp was gone, though the scar left on her shoulder still showed fresh, rather than the leathery quality of an old scar. It felt good to be able to walk properly. She felt his eyes on her, and glanced at him, gold and blue gaze mirroring the curiosity as he introduced himself in the gaelic. Her answer came easily, an introduction returned. ”"Is é mo ainm Surreal Ellen Adravendi. Is mór an pléisiúr chun bualadh leat, Korr."“ She wondered what the questions were that she saw in the fleeting glance he gave her. He was readable, but something about him said that one way to keep him friendly was to avoid direct eye contact, however much she might be used to looking into anothers eyes to read the emotions dwelling there. Her curiosity, however, came out in another question. ”"Cá bhfuil tú ó? Labhraíonn tú teanga mo .. go mhúin mo mháthair liom."” Though she tried, she was unable to erase the sudden pang of loss that struck through to her voice as she spoke of her mother, or the pause at the mention of the snowy healer. The loss was too recent for her to have completely healed the soul wound left bleeding by her mothers loss. However much her physical injuries may have healed. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Korr 'I've come to bring fire to your kingdom; I've come to burn it down.' To hear the words of the Old Tongue fall from lips of strangers was, to Korr, one of the most cherished things he could hear. That she walked with the air of a queen as he did of a king was, as most would say, the icing on the cake. This wolf had the beginnings of the black's respect, the faint threads of acknowledgement of their equal status in this world. He watched her(and their path) as she said her name, and a grunt of acceptance slipped out of him. Wisely she did not meet his gaze, honestly Korr did not want this stroll to lead towards a dominance display. He was raised in ways considered, perhaps, barbaric by some. Commonplace by others. To him it was a sign of respect to not meet his gaze, and in respect to Surreal he did not meet hers. They were, so far, equals. Her question somewhat shattered his illusion of her, however. He had thought that perhaps the female had hailed from the same lands as he; it was not so. "Thiocfaidh mé ó thuaidh ... Ó áit go bhfuil aon ainm." He both answered her question and did not, for his attention was snagged by the hitch that had suddenly struck the dame at the mention of her mother. How curious... was she deceased, then? Korr felt nothing about the death of his own parents; their souls were gone, nothing but flesh remained, and all things died. So why mourn? He actually couldn't wrap his mind around the process of 'mourning' something. He remained silent, pausing his step until Surreal would continue to walk. "Cad de tú? Buille faoi thuairim mé nach bhfuil tú ó mo talún." "Common Speech" ont color="#F2F2F2" style="font-size:14px;">"Irish Speak."

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Surreal Adravendi

His answer to her enquiry was a negative. But of course, Erani had come to a land called Ciroc, long before the Old land, and even longer before this one. Calarada was a distant memory, though its traditions from the Nomads, and Redwood Pack were not lost.The Old Tongue was a solid foundation in that land. She nodded slightly to herself. His pace paused until she continued on, the silence growing until he spoke again, asking of her origin, and guessing correctly that she hadn’t come from where he had hailed. She nodded. "Rugadh mé sa talamh. San iarthar ar an Plains Vericona nuair a bhí sé fós faoi riail an mo phaca breithe, Valhalla. Mo mháthair, Erani Rugadh, i dtalamh ar a dtugtar Calarada. Tá an Sean Teanga chomh líofa is atá an chaint choitianta anseo." She continued on in silence for a few feet, her mind mulling over her own past; the rise and fall of Valhalla, and how everyone seemed out to get the good natured pack, even when it had posed no threat to anyone who didn’t mess with it. All Valhalla had done, to her knowledge, was exist, say no to Isardis, and fight back in a pointless siege. Her muzzle tingled where the four scars left by an opponents claws during her part in the battle. Her tail flicked impatiently at the thoughts crossing her mind. It would all be over, if Epiphrons news about Ebony laying siege to Arcanum, with two of Pips wolves lending a paw, ended in success for Ebony. She’d have to take a walk over toward the old Valhallan lands to see how that had fared. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Korr 'Quote Here' Calarada... Well, at least there he could speak with moderate eloquence and be understood. The 'common tongue' simply eluded the brute's grasp, and although his mind was sharp he generally put his focus towards other things instead of a language so short, blunt and choppy as to be despicable. He remained silent, watching Surreal from the corners of his eyes, a thoughtful, silent rumble in his chest. Something had her riled up, not largely noticeable but the twitch of a tail from an otherwise still female piqued the black's interest. However he did not comment upon it; it was not his place to inquire as to her private thoughts. "Cá bhfuil tú i do chónaí?" He finally speaks, turning his head towards her, ears pricked. Was she alone as he? Or did she throw her allegiance behind another's leadership... or did she lead herself? "Common Speech" "Irish Speech"

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Surreal Adravendi

The silence drew on for another few strides, before Korr turned, asking of her living locations. She pondered that for a moment. While at the moment she lived within the Whistling Willows, she wouldn’t always reside there, not if Arcanum had indeed been cleared out like the infestation they were, and the lands she had been born upon and wished to die upon were freed. Finally, she answered him honestly. "An Willows Whistling san iarthar, le haghaidh anois. Má théann gach maith, ar intinn agam a éileamh ar ais Vericona Plains agus ar ais ar mo pacáiste breithe, cé faoi ainm nua. Neamhaí, b'fhéidir. Bhí mé ar an Uí Drisceoil, nuair a bhí mo mháthair Banríona, os comhair soith dearg dúshlán do Valhalla agus bhuaigh." The end of her words held a bitter edge, the memory of her mother bleeding, and hearing the mad giggle coming from the red bitch Viridiana bringing a taste of ashes to her mouth. While she wasn’t a fool to take revenge on the bitch, or let thoughts of revenge control her mind or her actions, it didn’t mean that she wouldn’t refuse the chance to tear that female to ribbons should she ever show her face around Surreal or her family in the future. However, her gut said that the bitch and all the nastiness attached to her was gone for good. Her gaze flicked to the male striding beside her. While she wouldn’t offer a place in the pack just yet, not until she was sure of the path ahead, that it wouldn’t be sidelined by some crazed Sovari wanting to take revenge for who knew what, but she didn’t mind leaving the word planted somewhere.

Korr 'Quote Here' Whistling Willows... the name holds no meaning to the brute, so he discards the title as unnecessary information, along with Veronica Plains and Valhalla. To hear the queenly female beside him was, actually, royal-born, was not at all a surprise to the black. He grunted softly, lips twitching. "Make good Queen." He spoke thickly, dropping his birth tongue. He was quiet then again for a longer span of time, until he stopped before a hollowed-out trunk, looking to Surreal, then to the sky. It had begun to lighten, and for a moment he watched the shifting sky before settling his silver gaze on Surreal once more. "Surreal strong. Need Korr, call." He said, tail flicking once in farewell before he turned and vanished into the brush, the sounds of his pawsteps quickly fading, that dark coat helping him disappear with ease. "Irish Speech"

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