Vindico

Full Version: Desperate times, desperate measures
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mini meeting, posting against October 25th
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She flew back up the mountain, glidign effortlessly in the cold. She had returned from her meeting with the ivroy king and now she needed to inform her pack of the changes. Talons touched down on the cliff just outside the caves. Giving herself a shake, she entered the darkness, a bark leaving her lips. There was much to tell. After her bark through the caves disappated, she would turn, unleashing a howl that echoed off the mountain sides as she summoned everyone to her presence.
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The Queen would move back inside the caves, taking a seat just inside the entrace, out of the wind and biting cold. It wasn't the warmest part of the cave, but it was much warmer than being exposed to the elements. Forelegs slid forward as she curled up in an effort to keep warm and raise her body temperature.
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@Indian @Citlali @Arlo @Widow @Cardinal @Warbler @Paradise @Satchel @Robin @Israfel @Pixie @andruil
<center><div style="background: url('http://i.imgur.com/wAAUL8f.png') no-repeat top; width: 550px;"><div style="padding-right: 25px; padding-left: 25px; padding-bottom: 25px; padding-top: 475px; font-family: georgia; text-align:justify; font-size:12px; color: #ecccbb">Deep were the festering caverns, the ominous howls of winter winters perpetual, continuous and chilled. The walls, the stones which lined the great halls frosted over, groaning heaves of the mountain lurching with each great gust of the winds. The divine righteousness which had taken from them warmth and comfort seemed determined to fell the peak, and yet, for all the horrors of the outside world, Andurïl had grown accustomed to the dangers. Born, grown within the roots of the earth, the avian beast was no stranger to the odd sounds the caressed from the beating heart, the venture into the belly a instinct born of the decades his family had claimed the winding corridors of the golden wood. Here, he had found the dungeons, the deepest paths, and had taken sword to stone, unearthing yet discovered chambers. Tearing forth rubble and soil, he had burrowed off from the frigidness of howling winds, the gusts felt even in this black place. Illuminated by his marks, dull and flickering with the absence of the sun, the serpent found roost, winding, intentional labyrinths rose from finger tips, shielding his bed of sunken silks and minute flora. It was warm there, stifling almost, with his nature keeping him from venturing, the blizzards and beasts of stone and ice something he dare not face with the storms seeming to rise against them.
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In the beginning, the lord had wondered, had plotted if such a creature was fellable. He had taken to their valleys, once possessed by the horde, now but a field of deep snow and shadow, ice blades towering above crown, twisted by the winds, and knew their foul flavour. Marks rippled over his armament, crimson platings having shielded his limbs from severing grasp. Now, the wound was but a white mark, a slithering cracked into his iron scales.
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Yet, even as far down into the depths as he was, the calling of the woman in ash and flaxen tresses could not be unheard. For a moment, he lingered, wishing not to venture forth from his isolation, the faint scents of those creatures he'd yet to face a thing in the back of his mind. He had grown used to his habits, and even now, when he vowed to wipe clean transgressions of past foolery, he held no wish to find scrutinizing gaze of the ignorant upon him. Sighing, unwinding the endless gossamer silks from his hide, stretching out one limb, than the other, he slithered through the concealed portal into his realm, whisking down chilled paths until at last, the light flickered through. His markings fell silent than, switching from wasteful use to hungered consumption, his body sliding onto the ground, his feathers trailing out, thinned by the sold, his mantle thick and engorged with winter calling. Silver gaze flicking upon her, ears rolling forward to listen to the calm breathes, he wondered what this was, a silent phantom even now. <font style="color:#62021a;"><b>"What news does the forests bring?"</b></font>
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<font style="color:#62021a;"><b>Speak</b></font>
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<p>Time to fly, time to touch the sky
One voice alone
A haunting cry</DIV>


<font style=" font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: none; text-transform: none; text-shadow: 0px 0px 9px #000000;">Citlali, like most</font> wolves, tended to be most active at night. Sunlight meant resting away in a den or relaxing on a hilltop, while nighttime was for the meat-trail and moonlight flights. An eternal night left her restless, urging her to go out and do something, but she could only stand to be out in the bitter cold for so long. Penned up inside the caves, the healer's mind was beginning to suffer. One moment she was high-strung and pacing a rut into the floor, the next she was moping in her den, convinced that their world had finally come to an end. It was just a matter of time until the prey ran out and they starved to death. Uredo would become a frozen crypt and the ice beasts would become the sole inhabitants of the world.

Caracara's barking echoed through the caves, rousing Citlali from a not-very-restful sleep. Bleary-eyed, she peered out of the alcove she had claimed for herself, lined with dried grasses and cast-off down from her own wings, then got up. Her muscles were sore from disuse and she worried briefly that the wing strength she had labored to acquire would atrophy away again. Then again, if they were really all doomed to die, who cared if she never flew again? She stepped out of her nest and stretched, wincing, then ambled down the tunnel until she came to the entryway. Snowdrifts dusted the cave here, and she shivered against the sudden cold wind. Caracara was waiting there, as well as a red-and-white male she didn't recognize. Citlali stopped, habitually stiffening when his Avelorn scent reached her. She didn't remember him from her birth pack, making it unlikely he had come after her. Still, such intrusive thoughts had become habitual for her, and they were unlikely to go away any time soon. <font style=" color: #a1cbde; text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px #ffffff;">"Who's this?"</font> she asked the Rani, hoping that neither of them had noticed her balking. He had bird legs like the other Madars, perhaps he was a long-lost sibling? Even so, something told her that there was another reason the queen had called the pack.

<center><font style=" color: #a1cbde; text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px #ffffff;">"May I speak?"</font></div>

<DIV style="text-align: CENTER; font-family: georgia; font-size: 8px; text-transform: uppercase; color: #ffffff; text-shadow: 0px 0px 20px #ffffff; letter-spacing: 7px; line-height: 12px;">One song, one star burning bright
Let it carry me
Through darkest night</DIV>
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<center>CODE BY CHIP | ART BY FIFTYBLACKROSES
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@Caracara @Andurïl
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The crimsoned male was buried under his mound of collected feathers of various shades and colours. A handful here and there resembled that of his sibling’s feathers even. He would quickly deny that they were lost feathers from his siblings, but he knew the truth of it. The male had a fascination with beautiful things, and it became a sort of obsession of his to collect feathers. Be the feathers from birds or other wolves, it didn’t matter to the delicately built male. It had gone terribly cold, so when he wasn’t found huddling near to Paradise he would be buried under his nest of feathers. He hated the cold. It sucked the beauty out of everything.

His ears would grow alert as a voice reached his ears. It was Caracara, and she was summoning the pack once more. He would lift his head as he paused a moment to be sure he heard what he heard. With a sigh and with much reluctance the male would slowly pull himself from his warm cocoon. He took the time to make his nest up nice and neat, and to give himself a quick grooming. Just because it was cold out, it was no excuse not to be presentable.

He would walk with a quick and sure pace, eager to attend the meeting and to get back as soon as it was over with. It wasn’t long before he arrived to the small gathering, Cara stood with another crimsoned male, and Citlali. His obsidian eyes immediately gained that mischievous little spark as he paused to stare at the feathered male in wonder. He was indeed very appealing to the eye. Where on earth had he come from?

With a shake of his head he turned his attention to his sister, as Rani she would be the one demanding the attention not, the handsome new face. Cardinal would lower his head in a bow like greeting.
<font style="color: #262836; font-variant: small-caps;"><b>  “Came as fast as I could, of course… had to make sure I was presentable. My ears are yours, sweet sister.” </b></font> Cardinal would speak flashing one of his charming smiles.

He couldn’t help but to glance in curiosity at the other male. He looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite place where he would have seen this beautiful male before. He was nearly as beautiful as himself, Perhaps more so. He waited for the arrival of the others and for Cara to speak in silence.


<font style="color: #262836; font-variant: small-caps;"><b> "Speech." </b></font> <font style="color: #F6F6F7;"><em>Thoughts.</em></font></div></div>

OOC: The post was quoted/copied from another post of mine. The tagging of Vivek was an accident. My apologies.
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The cold dominates the lands, burdening us all in it's wake. Though as the days went on Paradise would quickly adapt to the change in temperatures and climate. Lingering by the trees which provided worth when nothing else could, apart from the contact of other wolves. The ashen nymph remained leaning upon a single tree as it supports her large mass, her cold breath clearly visible before her. She would often take a moment to reflect and think of the wrong we may have done to the Gods and how to earn back their forgiveness. But by the looks of how the event played out, it seemed more like something personal between the powerful siblings, as if it was in fact nothing to do with the wolves of Vindico. Her track of though would quickly diminish as a howl would call the pack... packs together. Her limbs would slowly move, she took a few minutes to get back into the rhythm, her muscles feeling rather stiff as though they hadn't been used in months. Paradise would pick up her pace into a run, deciding any warmth she could provide for herself was very much worth it. Since she was within her own home lands, it didn't take very long to reach the meeting and it wasn't very surprising to find only her pack mates were visible. She assumed some other individuals would show up from the other new packs, it'd just take them longer to arrive. She would look upon Cara though she would not say a word. The dame would simply wait to hear the news she wished to say.


<font style="color: #262836; font-variant: small-caps;"><b>"Speech."</b></font> <font style="color: #F6F6F7;"><em>Thoughts.</em></font></div></div>
@Caracara @Citlali @Cardinal @Israfel @Pixie @Andruil
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When Cara's call reached Robin's ears, he was up almost immediately, unsheathed claws scrabbling at the rocky floor of the cave as he rose on skinny, lightly-trembling legs. Though he'd tried and tried, he hadn't been able to sleep well over the last few days, his mind never ceasing to assault him with scenarios in which he'd be burned alive or crushed or eaten if he wandered out of the tunnels. In a way, they had become as much of a safe place for him as they had a prison; the young wolf had no intentions of going outside, but being restricted to the tunnels that sat in the belly of the mountain had left him with nothing else to do but worry and agonize over what was happening. How long would it be until they were able to roam the lands beyond the mountain, again? How long would it be until the frost melted away, and all of those horrid beasts left?

Were they doomed to die in these tunnels...?

They were morbid thoughts, but Robin couldn't stop them, which only encouraged him to try harder to sleep. And at best, he'd been able to nap for a couple of hours, though today's nap had lasted for a handful of minutes. As a result, the young wolf couldn't hide the exhaustion that plagued his features as he half-trotted, half-sprinted out of his tunnel and into another, where a few of the other wolves had started to gather. He hadn't gotten more than a few pawsteps into the cave when he suddenly froze, however, staring wide-eyed at the familiar feathered wolf who sat a short distance away.

<font style="font-weight: bold; color: #4A0B0B;">"Anduril...?"</font> Robin found himself muttering aloud, his ears flattening themselves against his skull as his tail hugged one of his legs, skinny form still trembling with cold and lingering fear. Really, though, he was shocked to be seeing the man, again; their previous meeting had been more than a month ago, and the young wolf hadn't thought that there would be another one. <font style="font-weight: bold; color: #4A0B0B;">"W-what are you d-doing here...?"</font>




<center><font style="font-weight: bold; color: #4A0B0B;">"Speaking"</font></center></div>
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Original Coding by Layla/fiftyblackroses</center>
They would arrive. Andy was the first, a soft smile touched her lips. She would lean against him, ears tipping towards him. Good news. She would murmur, though he would have to wait to find out. Citlali was next, inquiring about the crimson man. This is Andruil. Andruil, this is Citlali, our lead healer. She would make introductions quickly. Cardinal was next, spilling his usual nonsense about looking pretty. Paradise and Robin trickled in last. The skittish male seemed to recognize Andruil, and though she was curious as to how, now was not the time.
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I have returned to the park that resides in the plains at the base of the mountain. They are our allies. The king, Israfel, and I, have come to an agreement to get through these hard times. They are permitted on the mountain to hunt and find safe sleeping quarters in the caves, and we are permitted to hunt on their lands, and Citlali, you may gather herbs there. She would explain. Now, while we will be sharing lands, you are still expected to treat them with respect and not break any laws. They are a good pack and will not cause us trouble, so I expect you all the give them the same courtesy. She would look to each face, silently inquiring about any questions they might have.
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ooc- posted early cuz work tomorrow D:
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@andruil @Citlali @Cardinal @Paradise @Robin @Indian @Warbler @Arlo
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He had been curled up in the warmest part of the caves he could find, within a deep sleep. Since the sun had disappeared there hadn't been much to do around the pack. They had been advised to stick together which meant they didn't leave the caves alone and certainly didn't hunt alone. Patrolling had been less frequent and kept to a much smaller area to keep them safe, but to not allow them to be to far from help. He had been drug down by the constant darkness, conserving his energy and sleeping more. He had also drifted into a bit of a depressed state as he remembered all the things in his life he did wrong. He had also attempted on several occasions to try and figure out what made the gods so angry and why they had been plagued with this darkness. The pack as a whole seemed the same, even though they were together in these caves they all seemed down and out with the whole situation.

Grunting the male stretched out his form, working cramped up muscles and helping his body stir from sleep. It took a while before the male actually set up and let out a large yawn. Voices drifted through the caves  drawing the male to his feet. He hadn't heard the calling bark of the Rani and wasn't aware of the meeting. Moving forward he headed towards the voices hoping to be able to have some company from the others, to lift his mood and give him something to do other then sleeping.

Soon he came upon the meeting and realized he had missed the call, feeling completely embarrassed he filed in behind the others and hung his head in shame while he listened to Caracara as she spoke of her meeting with another pack. His ears pricked at her words curious about this pack she spoke of.
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                      <center><div style="border-bottom: 2px solid #c5c5c5 ; border-top: 2px solid #c5c5c5 ; padding-top: 8px;"><font style="font-family:Ruthie; font-size: 80px; font-style: none; text-transform: none; color: #c5c5c5; text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px #000000, 0px 0px 30px #ffffff; line-height: 100px; float: bottom; ">Citlali Deerheart</font></div>
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<p>Time to fly, time to touch the sky
One voice alone
A haunting cry</DIV>

<font style=" font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: none; text-transform: none; text-shadow: 0px 0px 9px #000000;">Citlali couldn't help</font> the thrill that filled her chest when Cara introduced her as their lead healer. She was not a proud wolf, nor was she ambitious. But the feeling of accomplishment was something she had felt precious little of in her birth pack. Here, she actually amounted to something. Others from their pack trickled in, the usual faces, though not all were present. Where were the rest of the Madars? More importantly, where was Indian? Concern replaced happiness as she tried to remember the last time she had seen the blue-feathered male. What if he was stuck out in the snow somewhere, in trouble?

Her worrying would have continued to spiral if Caracara had not started to speak again, delivering important news. They had allies down below now, which was equal parts reassuring and ironic given that the world was probably ending. She nodded in gratitude as Cara told her she was permitted to gather herbs down below. <font style=" color: #a1cbde; text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px #ffffff;">"My stores are getting bare, most of the plants on the mountainside have died off. It'll be good to try and find some new cuttings."</font> She also found herself wondering what their own healers were like, if they had any. Perhaps she could find a teacher down below as well, to better earn her new title. She might try to pay a visit in the next brief window between blizzards.

The clicking of claws on stone alerted her to Arlo's arrival. As one guilty of arriving late on occasion herself, she didn't think much of his tardiness, but nodded a brief greeting before looking back to Cara, in case she had anything further to say.

                                           <center><font style=" color: #a1cbde; text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px #ffffff;">"May I speak?"</font></div>

<DIV style="text-align: CENTER; font-family: georgia; font-size: 8px; text-transform: uppercase; color: #ffffff; text-shadow: 0px 0px 20px #ffffff; letter-spacing: 7px; line-height: 12px;">One song, one star burning bright
Let it carry me
Through darkest night</DIV>
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<center>CODE BY CHIP | ART BY FIFTYBLACKROSES
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@Caracara @Andurïl @Cardinal @Paradise @Robin @Arlo