Surreal Adravendi

She stretched out in the Alcove of her mothers old den. The scents had finally fallen away, leaving the den bereft of any scent but hers and her family. While they hadn’t made the full claim yet, they were slowly making their mark once more. With a light line of scents on the old borders, not enough to mark a packs presence, but enough to assure loners that the den at least was taken, they had laid a foundation. As her belly rapidly grew, and the litter within became more vigorous, she anticipated the day when they’d be at her side, instead of kicking the daylights out of her bladder, kidneys, and stomach. Being back in this den was a boon; the nearby water source of the ever flowing spring and pool just outside, meaning a much shorter trip to drink, filled the air with faint trickling, bringing back happy childhood memories. She had also found a new passage that had opened at some point since her first return exploration; some small earth tremor must have shaken away the thin barrier. What lay behind it was a large chamber, lit by a hole in the ceiling. It could easily fit more than ten wolves, she thought. It would be a good meeting place for a council, and an even better defensive place for the old, injured, and young should a siege occur. The narrow crag was too narrow to allow a wolf to push through a defenders teeth. Surreal yawned and stretched, then heaved herself to her paws and ambled out into the main chamber, eyes trailing over the old place her mother had kept her plants, roots, and herbs. Perhaps Zuriel would fill that place soon enough. She pondered absently as she padded out of the old den, down the ravine path, and out into the woodland patch. Her paws fell into a track that meandered out of the woodland section, across a stretch of the plains, and into another patch of woods that hid another hill. Somewhere in here was Alsanders old den, up on a ridge, overseeing the land. She turned automatically onto that path and followed it up the steep incline to the rocky outcrop that jutted above the trees. A ledge path edged the face, widening out at the top. Sheltered by an overhang of moss, Alsanders old den sat dark and empty. Poking her head into the dark space, she sniffed deeply. So the Arcanum wolves hadn’t found this one, hm? She smirked. Alsander had been good at covering his trail. He had purposefully allowed the path to stay overgrown, taking care never to step on the tall weeds that would become scotch broom armies. And he never used one path more than twice a week if he could help it. There were many trails leading up to the old den, and all of them had only a drizzling of his scent. Of course, that was a good while ago. Now the only scents were pack rats in the back. Her ears perked as she heard the squeaks, and she delved in with one intent; to clear out an infestation, and gain a relatively easy snack. In a flurry of squeals and growls, the deed was done, and she stepped out, cleaning her jowls with swiped of her tongue. Slowly, her haunches lowered, and she scanned the Plains below with keen eyes. And inside, her litter continued to kick the ever living stuffing out of her innards. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

He felt old. Not really, not in his bones as his father had once described age, but rather in knowledge. The orange moon signaled the next turn of the black's life, a new year. Seven years now he had walked the world, and to what? No pups to carry his blood, no female to stand at his side. Over this Korr mulled as he walked, the tall grasses tickling his shoulders. His thoughts lingered on the concept of blood, of children, of his growing age. He was in the sunset of his prime, for the last years of his life would fly by before he knew it. He didn't mind it much, the more he thought about it. His sisters no doubt had whelps to continue their lineage, and Zorr had sired three children before he died. Issue solved, Korr's attention turned from inward to outward, focusing upon his surroundings. He moved with a rolling gait, ambling through the golden plains in no real hurry. What did he have to rush for? He had no pack, no family to visit, honestly all he had to do in terms of actions were hunting and exploring, the latter he felt his age upon, for seeing new things held little wonder for him now. Everywhere was the same, when you got to it. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Labhair Mo Teanga." ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Surreal Adravendi

Her keen eyes caught movement down on the plains. Something was familiar about the gait. She sifted through those she knew and had met, and finally put a face and name to the way the wolf moved. Korr. Her ears perked curiously, before rising back to her paws and heading down the ledge once more. Had he smelled the light borders they had put down and recognized her scent among them, or was he merely wandering? She padded through the patches of woodland, coming out to the plains with a bark of greeting to the black male. As she drew nearer, she saw that he was actually a subtle mixture of nearly black grey with darker hues over top. "Dia duit, Korr. Cén chaoi a bhfuil tú an tráthnóna seo?" Her eyes scanned his frame before she slowed and settled on her haunches. With how heavy this litter was getting, she was rather reluctant to stay on all four paws for very long periods of time. It had been even worse, last time, with Regulus’ porky body swinging in her belly. As before, she acknowledged the old ways of wolf language, not meeting his eyes directly, though she did take in his face. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

His scarred skull turned at the sound of approach, and he returned her bark with one of his own, dipping his head just the slightest bit to her in greeting. "Beannachtaí Surreal. Feicim go bhfuil duine éigin a bheith bheannaigh ag Lady Moon" He looked pointedly to her belly, the unscarred side of his muzzle twitching in the ghost of a smile. It didn't surprise him now that, at first, he had not recognized her scent, no. She held the scent of milk now, and obviously bore signs of pups-to-be. It hurt. A strange thud in the pit of his stomach. "Tá mé go maith, ag baint taitnimh as an aimsir go maith cé go maireann sé. Beidh an Gheimhridh a bheith reign thar domhan roimh a fhios againn é." He rumbled, sitting the moment she did, and like her he did not meet her gaze, instead settling his focus on her face, on the space between her eyes. Though, once more his gaze drifted down to her swollen gut, and his head tilted just the slightest bit. "Who father?" He grunted, returning attention back to Surreal, ears pricked as he awaited her answer. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Labhair Mo Teanga." ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Surreal Adravendi

Surreal smiled, tail wagging as he commented on her obvious pregnancy. "Dara bruscar, freisin. Tá mé trí leanaí eile. Cén chaoi a bhfuil éirigh tú ó bhuail muid?" She asked, head cocking to the side. His answer to her greeting answered both quite well, and she nodded. "Beidh an bruscar a rugadh go han-luath. Roimh an chéad sneachta, creidim. Agus b'fhéidir go mbeidh mé mo phacáiste cruthaithe ag an Earraigh. B'fhéidir túisce. Slí amháin nó slí, beidh mé sásta a fháil go rollta cloch." She noted the movement of his eyes to her belly again, her tail sweeping the ground in answer to the question. "Mo maité, Falk. Tá sé an athar mo bruscair roimhe seo, chomh maith." The warmth in her tone spoke of her love for the russet male, and the affection for her children, both those born already, and those waiting to arrive. Her eyes drifted to the surroundings, a happy glint lighting them. This litter would be born where they belonged. "Fáilte go dtí Vericona Plains, dála an scéil. An míolra a bhí squatting ar an talamh a bheith maidhm. Athghinte muid an áit seo níos luaithe an fómhar seo." Her head lifted a fraction, her happiness to be home welling up. It never got old, being back on her home turf. She could be doing so mundane a thing as taking a nap and the joy would overtake her. She was home. It made her want to run and leap, but being as late in term as she was, that would be rather difficult to accomplish. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

He didn't think it would be her first litter, nay she bore the signs of previous nursing. He didn't answer her question however, merely gave a shrug of his scarred shoulders, and he listened with interest as she spoke of the birth of both her pups and her pack. "Tuar maith chun tús a chur an pacá leis an saol nua." Korr's tail wagged once, and his lip twitched at the obvious adoration in her voice. "Tá áthas orm go bhfuil tú do chroí." He followed her gaze to the land around them, an ear twitching as she named the place. "Mearbhall tú liom. Conas is féidir leat ainm a áit?" The claiming confused him as well. Land could not be claimed by anything save a god, and names were for wolves, not grasses and trees and sky and earth. If this place was 'Vericona Plains', did that mean every blade of grass was 'Vericona Plains'? Every breath of air? These people confused him. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Labhair Mo Teanga." ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Surreal Adravendi

His remark of beginning a pack with new life brought a wag to her tail. "Tá súil agam mar sin. Go dtí seo, ach mé féin, mo maité, agus mo bheirt pháistí atá fágtha a dhéanamh suas iad siúd a bheidh ina chuid de seo. Ní mór dúinn láidir, baill dílis ... cinn is féidir linn muinín." She said, her voice taking on a thoughtful tone. His comment on her having found her heart pulled a smile from her jaws. Despite her rage when Falk had charged off mindlessly to the battlefield and gotten himself kidnapped by Arcanum, which had ultimately led to his being completely blind, she loved the large russet male deeply. However, deep inside, she knew that her beloved would be unable to lead as her secondary Alpha when they at last had their pack. Who she would choose to lead at her side, she still didn’t know. She just hoped that he would accept that he wouldn’t be the secondary. That it wouldn’t change anything between them. Korr expressed confusion at the naming of a place. She chuckled softly, tail waving gently as she tried to explain. "Ainmníodh é cheana Plains Vericona roimh mo bhreith. A mhéid a bhfuil eolas agam, tá na háiteanna sa talamh a bhí ainmneacha i gcónaí. Cabhraíonn sé nuair a stiúradh duine éigin a áit. Mar do conas ... Ainm duit é cad oireann sé is fearr, is dócha. Mar shampla, nuair a bhí muid ag maireachtáil roimhe sin a bhí ar a dtugtar 'Whistling Willows'; Na feadóga ghaoth trí na boughs agus na crainn amháin go bhfuil saileach. Is é seo an Vericona Plains go dtí go gcomhlíonann tú na borderline tanaí de mo scent measctha le sin de mo theaghlach." She pulled herself to her paws with a gruff groan as the pups within her belly heaved and wiggled, landing a few good kicks on her bladder. She ambled away, inviting Korr to follow with a beckoning wave of her tail. "Is féidir liom a thaispeáint duit timpeall más mian leat." she offered amicably. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think