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Divine Intervention into the veil of death
Posted 05-04-2017, 05:49 AM | This post was last modified: 06-04-2017, 12:08 PM by KittyKookiez
Female, 8.25
29 in, 105 lbs
2016 ep
© singer

The persistent cough that had brought her low days ago had yet to ease. She was curled within her den, the sand cold around her, even as her temperature skyrocketed. She knew that the world had changed – that she had changed with Finch’s death. The lust for life and her future had fled her, had failed. She had failed, and as she lay alone in the den – she knew that she would be seeing her mate once again soon. The breathing that stuttered and stammered in her chest was all that hindered her calling for company, for begging for help… but would it come? Charcoal ears flattened close to her skull, and her eyes closed. Every facet of her body ached, and she was so alone she wanted to find the pack, and the friends she once held. Instead, the charcoal and silver scarred wolf lay destitute, with her friends fled or busy. She begged for death inwardly, in a way she never would have verbally. She hurt, and she longed for peace once again.

She hadn’t called to anyone when this illness first made itself present. It was something she had dealt with for a time now – the loss of her facilities was something she had to cope with. She’d been aching more and more since Akako’s flames marked her so badly, since different fights had marked her. Seacca’s attack, back in the Festival of Champions, had unknowingly weakened the ageing Queen, who would be left with very few regrets – that she couldn’t see her children once again, that Rykerri and Vali would not know of her death. That she would likely die without much fanfare, that was what she’d anticipated. She would never now make things right with Mace, for her son would not see her, unless she crossed back into this world as a spirit. She is death and destruction inside, the abuse of her body suddenly culminating in a weakness that made her feel vulnerable. A soft cry goes up to Akako, to Kiyoshi – she wishes that her pack know she did her best for them.

It is with a low moan of despair that she stretches herself forward, and sends up sparks that cause her struggling heart to stammer further, for the tightness in her chest to cling even more around her. She is panicking now, eyes wide and rolling. Her breathing is shuddering, shallow – and she remembers so much, all at once. The day she’d strolled into Doutaini, and demanded that she were claimed. Kobrin had taken her in, and made her strong. She had fallen in love with Finch for the first time while still wearing that pendant of ice-blue around her neck. The subsequent heartbreak had coloured a lot of her life – had marred her delights and her trust to the point of where she’d callously cut Wyatt free from her life. There is one frantic attempt for her to touch the thoughts of those around her – for her to say a farewell as she remembers Finch’s lifeless frame in front of her, their love and loyalty fresh and wonderful until… he was stolen from her.

And then… and then she was gone – gone to somewhere where the world awaited her afresh, and where her body could be eased of the aches. Singer Verien-Musai had fought so much, yet pneumonia had stolen her away from the world of the living, younger than she should be yet having betrayed the odds of her own birth. The Queen that halted two wars and gave her all until half her heart was stolen from her – died alone, with not a quiet whisper upon scarred lips, but a soft smile – knowing, as she did, that she would soon be back with her beloved Finch once again.

(requesting DI and MN here)

speak and be heard

Posted 05-04-2017, 07:14 AM | This post was last modified: 05-04-2017, 08:07 AM by Nasiro
Fire Wolf
Female, 3.50
30 in, 120 lbs
78 ep
© 2.50
     Nasiro knows the bed ridden feeling all too well. For weeks, months, the yearling had been confined to her den due to pregnancy. During the earlier days she was able to safely travel about, but as the pregnancy progressed the morning sickness and fatigue got to her. Keeping her chained to the den she shares with her man of slate and brimstone. She couldn't even travel down to the oasis without collapsing into the warm sands. Vaitan can attest to that. Last night, as cool air and evening touched the atmosphere of the Torrid, three little lives were ushered into the world. Two daughters, Accalia and Raelyn, and one son named Leron. Nas had never thought that her hear could handle this much love. They are pieces of Valfreid, and her, and she would forever cherish them. Giving birth made a world of difference to her health. Her stomach isn't twisting into uneasy knots anymore, and the yearling can feel energy returning to her tired muscles and bones.
     Today the yearling has a goal in mind. To visit the warrior woman who holds a strong place in Nas's heart. Singer. Her alpha's absence has concerned Nas for a long time now. In a show of support for Singer she had been there to bear witness to Finch's fight, and his untimely death. Piercing emerald seas watched as the grief tore through her idol, and made her fall into ruins. Only once since that day she has seen the blessed woman. That alone is extremely troublesome. Singer had proved herself to be an active alpha since that fateful day in the Willows. Now she is like some phantom from a ghost story. Just lingering on the edges, but never fully existing.
     Gently she nudges the three newborns against Valfreid's stomach. While he may not be able to produce milk he can provide their children with warmth while she is away. Her visit is timed between feedings. So the whelps shouldn't fuss too much without their mother hen near by. I'll be back soon. Craning her head she glides her muzzle along her beloved's. I'm going to go visit Singer. Pulling herself away from her mate, and their bundles of love, she leaves the den. Emerging from the mouth of it toes splay on the shifting sands. A weak smile touches her lips at the wonderful feeling. Take it slow. Slender legs move fluidly. Allowing her to easily traverse the dunes and desert with graceful ease. The closer she gets to Singer's den the heavier her heart becomes. It is what she may find that increases the dark feeling settling over her soul. What has become of the queen of flames?
     Arriving at the entrance to Singer's chambers Nas clears her throat loudly. Singer? Her voice is gentle as she calls out to her alpha. I don't mean to intrude on your privacy but we haven't really seen you around much, and I grew worried. Sorry I couldn't come sooner.... Words pause, and she listens for any sound, but doesn't hear a thing. So she presses on with her apology. I was pregnant, and it ate away at me night, and day. I would have come sooner, but I could hardly walk. I hope you can forgive me for not being here sooner. Ears swivel forward, and for a moment she stops breathing entirely. All she can hear is the dry winds blowing through the desert, and the thud of her own heart against her throat. Something is wrong. Her nose knows that Singer is in there. The warrior woman's scent tickles her nose. Could her idol be this upset with her? Daringly she pushes into the den without little regard of how she may be punished for just barging in.
     What she finds is the husk of a once strong woman. Laying motionless in the sand. Life had only fled her only but an hour ago, but the touch of death is evident. Emerald eyes widen, and stare wildly at the scarred visage of Singer. Nasiro had seen death in many forms before. Teocht is not a forgiving place. One thing she had never experienced is the death of a loved one, and that is what Singer is...was...to her. Singer had stolen a place in the yearling's heart on day one. She was the woman whom Nas looked up to when she needed to be strong. The queen of fire, and brimstone, had become a mother figure to her. Though Nasiro had never called her 'mom', or made her feelings for her queen fully known, she likes to think that the blessed woman could maybe tell by how Nasiro looked at her. How she addressed the warrior goddess. Her little tokens of affection by lightly touching, or the way she smiled to her mother figure.
     A horrid noise loosens from the depths of Nasiro's throat. A mixture of a scream, and sob. No words grace her lips for none can form through the sobs that choke her. Tears spill from those vibrant eyes of green, and inside of her chest she can feel her heart breaking. Fragmenting into millions on little pieces. Collapsing into the sand she can no longer find the strength to stay standing. Pathetically the yearling crawls over to the battle worn corpse. Dragging herself over to Singer's body she presses feverishly, and fiercely, into her mother figure. Burying her face in the woman's neck she allows depression, and grief, to consume her. Shudders roll through her young frame. Making her jerk, and twitch, ever so often. I'm sorry. Nas's words are muffled by the thick chocolate fur her face is pressed into. I miss you already. She doesn't plead for her alpha's soul to stay. Singer's spirit is probably gone from this land that has brought her nothing but pain these last few months. It would be selfish of her to beg the phantom woman to stay here when she is finally free of pain. You will be remembered, always, and you will live on. In my son. My baby boy. His name will be Leron Singer Duradel. My children will know of your legacy,
and you. You will always be in our hearts...mom.

     Pulling herself together the broken girl peels herself from the ground. On shaking legs she stands, and moves to the mouth of the den. No, she isn't leaving her queen behind. Throwing her head back her jaws split, and a summons ushers out of her throat, and into the desert. Come bid your queen farewell. She calls to everyone in Fire. Beckoning them to them to Singer's chambers.


Vaitan Sentry Aaron Lyonesse Dracarys Bayard - I only tagged a few for now.

Posted 05-04-2017, 04:20 PM |
Fire Alpha
Male, 6.50
36 in, 125 lbs
551 ep
© Jamie
There was a shift in the sands, rolling like the tides to shore in one rippling, endless motion. This was a desert sea, a vast and marvelous expanse of golden dunes that caught and trapped the sun’s warmth in a tight, blazing embrace. Even as Vaitan’s taloned paws crossed the borders of his beloved home, he knew something had changed. Instinctively, the beast’s amber eyes narrowed, his muzzle lifting as he gazed into the distance. Slowly, his large skull turned, his eyes surveying the land but seeing only the whisper of the wind in its delicate stride across the Torrid. Such deafening silence… Once, the Torrid Desert had been the liveliest place in all Doutaini, housing the greatest number of wolves—and the most powerful. Fires crackled late into the cold nights, rich with the scents of celebratory herbs and accompanied by the friendly voices of happy pack mates. Now…now it was quiet. The male knew something was wrong, but he was juggling what felt like countless dilemmas and responsibilities; Singer’s absence had fallen to the wayside, the warning voice in his brain drowned by the cries of children and the ever-present need to protect the borders. Váli was gone—somewhere along the line, Váli stopped calling him “brother” and Vaitan wondered, was it he that drove the gladiator from the pack lands? Perhaps he would never know, but the former Beta took Penance with him. Vaitan was the only councilman left to perform the basic duties for the pack.

But it was no excuse. He was here, and after the winds shifted and the telling chill ran up the beast’s spine, he heard the cries ring out—shattering the silence which weighed so heavily on him moments before. Vaitan broke into a sprint across the dunes, his practiced paws impervious to the slip of the sand. Whose voice is that? he wondered as he ran; then he recognized it as belonging to Nasiro. But as he neared the source, he noticed that it was coming from Singer’s den. Dread washed over him before he could fully process the truth. Being agile and fast for his size, Vaitan arrived quickly after Nasiro’s call. At the entrance of the den, he skidded to a stop, his fiery eyes widening as they absorbed the tragic image. Singer.

She was a shell, an empty casing that once held a vibrant and majestic woman. A warrior at heart, the woman had always exuded an aura of brute strength, though the glint of her intense eyes always spoke of cunning and intelligence. This body, thin and hard and sallow, was not Singer. This wasted body, nostrils crusted and eyes dull, was not Singer. But reality struck the beast like a rock: Singer was dead, never to protect or lead Fire again. Vaitan glanced briefly at Nasiro, who mourned heavily at the scarred woman’s side—he never realized they formed such a close bond. Conflicted feelings rose from the beast’s volcanic core and roiled in his temperamental heart. His wide eyes narrowed once more, his gaping mouth shutting in a firm, straight line. Muscles tensed, his tail hanging loose behind him as he continued to stare blankly at the body. Singer… She was more than just a Queen—even more than just a friend. He liked her from the moment he met her—years ago at the Spiritus Speculum, his favorite place throughout all of Doutaini’s magnificent territories. She was playful, yet wise and reserved. She was a good teacher, too—albiet rough; it was she who molded him into a fighter, who filled his endomorph frame with a suitable physique. Under her guidance he trained long, hard and often, priming him to peak physical condition. It was Singer he trusted after he—and all his pack mates—were expelled from Enigma by the reaper. He wanted to serve her, and from her leadership he grew to love Fire. He even learned to love Akako…or, at the very least, what Akako represented. Vaitan was able to trust Singer, to reveal to her feelings which he normally hid behind a stonelike façade.

She was…family.

Singer never got to meet his children. She never got to praise Akako’s name beneath the light of the falling stars, as the next generation of leaders prepared to take the throne. She never…she never came to his call, the night of the Stardust Festival, when he intended to ask her her plans for Fire’s future. She never vented to him about Finch’s death. She never told him she was sick. Hadn’t she trusted him? Perhaps, if he hadn’t been away so much to tend to his family, she… No. Vaitan closed his eyes tightly, ears flattening, as a strained growl escaped his maw. There was nothing he could do now but honor her. He had to pick up the pieces, to make Fire understand that it had failed its Queen in her hour of need, and she was deserving of their respect even in death. Why didn’t Sentry and Lyonesse know? Why…

Vaitan was not a sensitive man. He was selfish, and sometimes crude, and other times harsh. He never wanted to be a leader, and he never intended on taking Singer’s place. No one could take Singer’s place. But he made a promise to Singer and Akako, a promise that he would devote himself to Fire and see them grow ever stronger. He was determined to maintain that vision. “Come, Nasiro,” he said suddenly, his voice tough but not unkind. He strode forward, gently putting himself beneath Singer’s body and lifting her draping form onto his shoulders. Rigamortis was just beginning to set in, but she was not frozen in the clutches of the afterlife just yet. Perhaps her spirit lingered, or perhaps it already ascended to the heavens—he could not know, and he wouldn’t let himself obsess over feelings he didn’t fully understand. Vaitan carried the dead queen a short ways from her den, then laid her carefully in the sand once more. Narrowing his intense visage, he lifted face to the sky.

“Akako!” His voice echoed and boomed like thunder, fueled by the passion in his soul and the strength given to him by his ruby gem. He’d never addressed a god before, and his heart faltered, but he would do this for her. He only did any of this for her. “Let your wolves come and see their Queen one last time! Let them be reminded who they are supposed to be, who they once were. Fire is still strong. Your flames have not died with her—she feeds them, even beyond this life. Let them come, only then will we call your fire to take her body from this earth.” There was love in his voice, but also rage. It was the voice of a man who didn’t know how to cope, but he would, he would continue on in her honor until he could no longer carry the burden. He hoped all of Fire would hear his voice—maybe even wolves beyond the borders, wolves who knew and admired Singer’s name. He knew Sentry and Lyonesse would come soon, would have to grieve for their mother’s death. But he hoped most of all that Akako would greet Singer’s soul, if for no other reason than Singer had served him proudly to the end of her days.


ooc. Vaitan is like...maybe Alpha now? I'm not sure yet, another thread is in progress.

Vaitan arrives and reflects on his relationship with Singer; conflicted feelings roil within him, and he is unsure how to process Singer's death. The only thing he knows how to do is move forward. He gently carries her body outside the den so others can grieve and pay their respects. He hopes Singer's family arrives first, then others--and maybe even hopes that Akako will give Singer recognition. He will wait until everyone has arrived and then build a pyre for her.

[Image: nm68E3I.png]

Posted 05-04-2017, 10:55 PM | This post was last modified: 05-04-2017, 11:29 PM by Lyonesse
Fire Beta
Female, 4.25
30 in, 110 lbs
104 ep
© Lou

She'd only looked for her once, one time in the weeks Singer had been absent. It was perhaps a little bit true that Lyonesse was harnessing an anger for the fire queen, a disappointment and hurt that the scar-riddled woman had disappeared when her children had needed her most. Finch's death had severed a nerve in her heart, and her mothers' absence had pushed her into adulthood with a sense of loneliness. Abandonment. She'd more than anything had to raise herself; and for this she was spiteful. Days had rolled on into weeks and she knew those too would disappear into months, life itself was laying out its' path of inevitable waste; but Lyonesse had not made a move to grab at the rope that had been offered. Not until recently. Her discussion with Vaitan and Sentry had left her feeling heartless and guilt-ridden, but all she knew how to do now; was to push on, move forward and never look back on the mistakes or hardship behind. There had been many, and she'd be the first to admit it, but Fire was the life she had both been born into and given life by. Akako had been there, in all his glory, though she didn't remember a dime of it. She belonged here.

It was this turmoil of emotion that took her from Oasis to Singer's den, in search once again of the hidden queen. She'd not shown the few days before, when the fate of Fire had been decided, and Lyonesse was about ready to give her mother a mouthful about her negligence. Akako, give me strength...and my mother, she needs it most of all. Her paws are muted by the warm summer sands as she grows closer, her mind too busy reeling with all this new information that she almost misses the stale odor that slides its' way into her nostrils and clings to every surface of her being. Death. Her large skull swivels as she peers around for a dead animal, a deer or the carcass of a bird, anything but what she finds...anything. Vaitan puts down the limp and lifeless body of their queen just as Lyonesse halts, chartreuse eyes from both parents widen with terror, as her heart all but gives out under pressure.

"No," she whispers, and it is a sound that could have been mistaken for a breath let loose in the breeze. Her legs begin to tremble without her even being aware of it, hackles standing on end against the mohawk that tips to one side of her spine, she is on the offense immediately, as if her own body had taken control without consent. But she knows it was no Vaitan, or even Nasiro who she spies through quickly blurring eyes, before all she can see is Singers' lifeless corpse. "No," she whispers again, and that one word just continues to tumble from her jaws as her body collapses forwards into the sand, knees sinking just next to her mothers face. She is a girl again, a babe looking for affection from her sleeping parent, prodding and kneading at fur, desiring only to be acknowledged. Whimpers slip out as she searches for any warmth left behind by death, but it had claimed it all, leaving only ice cold flesh and stiffness in its' wake. She conjures heat herself, and crawls forwards to spoon the queens body, perhaps she could warm her enough that she would wake up, perhaps that was all she needed.


It shreds at her heart and leaves the organ in tatters as she cradles helplessly to her mother. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Eyes pinch closed as she buries her face into the scruff of Singers neck, and even she is surprised as the sobs wreak havoc on her frame. She had voted to replace her, she'd voted Vaitan in, she'd voted herself in! And as if her mother had known; singer had let go of what life was left. "We will be all we can, and we'll be it for you mom. I love you...so much." Her sobs have since subsided, and in their absence Lyo feels numb, blank of any emotion, and in resignation; she climbs unsteadily to her feet and slowly lets her eyes slide open. She would not be the hysterical girl as others' poured in, oh no; she'd be the queen they deserved in a legends absence. In Singers' absence. "I hope now, that you will be in peace... I'll see you soon." and she drops her head to place a long and passionate kiss against her mothers cheek, droplets rolling the length of her muzzle and onto the darkened fur of Singers. She takes a step back to allow others' their goodbyes, even as tremors caress her figure, she'd be fine, she had to be.

Without thinking; she turns to Vaitan and nods; it is us now, and we will do her proud. Akako's pendant comes to life as Lyo flicks her ears forwards, three of the surrounding trees burst into fire as she conjures flame, large flickering columns that dance, circle and lick around the trunk. They form somewhat of a circle, large enough that any wolf that wanted to send their queen off could; but no mistake was made that they rung a halo around Singer.
The fallen queen.




Posted 05-05-2017, 09:53 PM |
in, lbs
The passing of an era. Their cries ride on the hot wind, cutting across the sand in earnest. Elektra's head rises as her jaws tenses, ridding her expression of the softness of sleep. Her premonition has come to pass, and she will not neglect to witness its aftermath. She rises from her hollow beneath the generous shade of a palm, uncurling in noiseless motions that flaunt her adaptation to the unforgiving badlands. The pace she sets is fueled by purpose, animating the length of her limbs in time with a tempo audible only to her: the staccato beat of her uneasy heart.

Elektra steps into their midst without offering greeting or consolation, only quick glances of acknowledgement. She is not so uncouth as to disrupt their mourning. The body of the alpha, whose presence in the Savage's life had been fleeting and tarnished with accusations of cowardice, is laid out in reverence. She approaches cautiously, ears tilted towards those that have already gathered in order to gauge their reaction; she is almost an outsider, a stranger, bound to them only by the bright gem they wore. Her muzzle droops, neck arcing as a fan of silky fur splays above her crown in an unruly mane. "نحن ننتمي إلى الآلهة و سنعود" Her delivery is formal and soft, devoid of depth - but she is the last wolf that Singer had accepted into the desert, and it would be poorly of her not to acknowledge that, at the very least.

After her respects are paid, she steps away as swiftly as she arrived. Elektra intends to linger, sharp-eyed and silent, in order to observe the proceedings with a sense of duty. The brush of her black tail hangs limp between her heels, posture naturally unassuming, even as the spessartine gleam of her gaze regards them all speculatively. Though sorrow grips them now, the wolves of Akako had a choice: pursue their future, or dwell in a past that has ended on a bitter note. Too many trails had led out and away from their sacred oasis as wolves sought greener pastures and better opportunities. Will we give them something to regret leaving behind?

Posted 05-05-2017, 10:19 PM |
Female, 7.75
34 in, 125 lbs
156 ep
© Julie


She had been in the area, saying a last goodbye to her pack and her family. She had grown up here within fire and knew almost all the patrols so she knew she wouldn't be detected. But, something was different. Something wasn't right. There was a gathering of wolves but not where the usual meeting was held. Wait, this was where Singer's den was. Instantly she moved forward, not really caring that she was no longer part of the pack. Was Singer alright? The scent of death hit her hard and fast and she knew instantly not everything was alright. Rushing forward she slowed as she got to the small gathering of wolves, eyes flickering around until they landed on the body of Singer.

A broken gasp escaped from her mouth as she moved closer, not paying much mind to the other fire wolves that were already on the scene. "Aunty?" Her voice broke as tears fell from her royal blue eyes, all the hate she had for Singer now vanished in an blink of an eye. She had never really noticed how frail and old Singer actually was. Now it was too late. Soft paws carried to raven woman closer to her aunt as a sob racked her body. "No.. Not you too." Everyone in her family was leaving her and now Singer had joined them. First it was her mother, then her father passed to the other side and now her aunt whom she had so much hate for towards the end of her life now joined them there.

Finally standing over her aunt's body she lowered herself to the ground, placing her head down so her chin would rest on Singer's body. She knew that Lyonesse was also laying beside Singer but that didn't matter much to her right now. Blue eyes closed, sealing the rest of the world off as she cried. "I'm sorry." She whispered softly, not really caring if other wolves could hear her or not. "I'm sorry for how I was, I just couldn't handle it. Please don't leave me. After mom died, you were the closest thing I had to a mother. And now you're gone too." She hiccuped slightly from the tears that now dripped down to soak her aunt's fur. "I have no one."

No longer able to contain her emotions she lifted her head to the sky, letting out a lone and heartbroken howl to the heavens. All kinds of emotions tore through her body as she called to the gods. She begged the gods to bring her aunt back, yelled at them for taking her away and even asked the gods to take her as well. In the back of her mind she knew she didn't want to die but at this moment all she knew was she didn't want to live her life alone.

Finally she laid there, eyes cast down upon Singer's body. All her emotions were gone, leaving an empty shell of who she was not too long ago. It was only then that she realized the rest of the wolves were there. Turning her eyes she looked at each of them in turn before speaking to all of them. "I am no longer a part of this pack, nor have I been in a while. But Singer was my aunt so I ask of you to please bury her properly. Give her a proper good bye." With that she laid her head back down, laying there beside her aunt as she sighed."Singer Lyonesse Nasiro Vaitan "

meteora has changed hands several times over the years, and while I have done my best to ensure accuracy has carried throughout her recent posts, I am bound to miss some details. If anything should disagree with previous in character threads, please let me know I would be happy to edit a post!

Posted 05-06-2017, 04:04 AM |
Rebel Alpha
Female, 6.00
40 in, 100 lbs
399 ep
© Lou
The cries only solidify the feeling of dread that makes her stomach drop, that forces her heart to skip a beat. They had been joined by both looks and passion, sisters born at opposite ends of the world, destined to align as fate had decided for them. The tremors take her by surprise in the early hours of her boundary walk, and it is large eyes of emerald that swivel to stretch her gaze across Doutaini to where the land stains golden. The torrid desert. "Rykerri!" her shout takes her by surprise, but Charlotte pivots on the ledge where she stands to scream for her friend, her alpha. She doesn't wait for an answer, for somewhere deep in the confines of her red rock heart; she knows it is Singer, and she knows it can't be good. Paws scramble as she takes off down the side of the mountain, from ledge to ledge she leaps, until finally the ground levels out and she can hit top speed.

The world changes in a whirl of colors and shades, her paws hit and scuffle from stone to dirt and then finally; to sand. She welcomes the warmth as toes bury in the particles, the dunes do little to slow her, but she does after it is clear that she has passed the border. Cries encircle her, words that drift to her on the dry breeze, and all of a sudden; she is engulfed in darkness. Singer lies just ahead, and Charlotte can't take her eyes off the broken and limp body that held once; a soul like no other. "Singer," she whispers through a heavily expelled breath, ears nesting backwards on her head as she takes a timid step towards the fallen queen. "From the earth we are forged, and to the earth we must return." She says softly, a passage that the elders of her pack used to say when a king had fallen victim to anothers' jaws. She leans down, and places a kiss on Singer's forehead, pressing her muzzle into the soft, cool fur.

"Until we meet again, my sister." and with a bare and raw glance at the others, Vaitan included; she moves to the side to wait, blinking at the heavy tears that threaten to roll over her eyeline.

Charlotte comes to see Singer off, and then stands off to the side to await the funeral.

Charlotte is riddled with scars from head to toe, the right side of her face is bare of fur, and both her ears are in tatters at the tips.

Posted 05-07-2017, 11:35 AM |
Enigma Gamma
Male, 5.50
38 in, 128 lbs
72 ep
© tig
'that has never been our way.' his voice is tight, swift and jolted with foreign syllables. aegon's son. those almond eyes graze upon his aunts brow, and turn away with a bow of respect. 'we give our dead to akako, as we give our hearts.' immolation. his breath tightens, a cough, a soft noise like the clearing of a throat, like an odd sort of sadness that drips across his tongue. 'We burn her; it is a rite.' it is holy. and that is it.

An eye turns to lyonesse, who he had never been close to. Who did not even share his blood. but your mother thought of my father as her brother, and tried to think of us as her own family, too. But gods be damned if the children of aegon dezera were not underwhelming, were not black hearts and snakes and gysies. except oberyn, gods be with him in his peace.

'خواب خوب، جنگجو' ( sleep well, warrior. ) his soft farewell, blown with a breath as he steps forwards to dip his head over singer's brow. He will not touch the corpse -- it is a shell, a monument of death that superstition dictates may catch. Instead, the man backs warily away, settling in the proximity of Elektra without a greeting. An eye turns her way, a single glance that catches upon the woman and studies her for a moment. ' ... Are you ... Doing okay?' An awkward mutter, his voice mutted by both the dark mood and in respect of mourning.

Posted 05-07-2017, 12:50 PM |
Rebel Scout
Male, 2.75
35 in, 125 lbs
50 ep
© vik
Wailing drew his ear. It carried on the dark, hot wind to his camp in the desert. When he heard it, he cantered up the slope of the closest dune and he braced himself like a statue when he reached the peak. Head held high, ears pricked forward, staring hard into the distance. The desert stretched out like a frozen red sea, the oasis smudged darkly against the waves. Beyond it, another plaintive cry burst into the heavens. ”Akako!” it demanded, roiling with emotion. The sound of it made his stomach lurch and adrenaline flicker through his veins. He hooded his gaze and frowned, steadying his nerves with a deep breath. Another second passed before he glanced in the direction of his brother. He was beginning to make a habit of dragging Carion around. He said nothing, though. It seemed unnecessary.

With a small, nearly imperceptible jerk of his muzzle, he gestured they should move in.

He was down the side of the dune in the next second; edging into the scene a few minutes later. His black hackles flared slightly away from the curve of his shoulders, and his sharp eyes scoured the gathering. Seven wolves he counted, some with gems and some without, revolved around a dark figure lying on the sand. Around Singer. In the next second, he understood. The revelation brought his paws to a halt and he stood in silence at the edge of the gathering, expression a somber frown, posture mildly stiff. His eyes rested upon the dead Queen... She seemed smaller somehow. Fragile and hollow, like an empty vessel.

He struggled to ignore his past acquaintanceship with Death. Blotted out the memory of another female figure draped across the sand. Kynaios breathed slowly through his nose, finding it hard to pull his eyes away.

His ears twisted away first as one of the pack talked of cremation. His gaze followed. Suddenly, he wanted to look anywhere but at Singer. She had been a stranger to him; he did not feel her passing as intimately as those who came to grieve. But it still meant something. He shifted his weight slightly, a sign of unease to any who knew him. What did their future hold?


Posted 05-07-2017, 12:59 PM |
in, lbs

She stands at a distance watching, aware of the happenings as the smell of death has pivoted into the atmosphere. The gathering had been spotted from the distance, Lilith had been watching for awhile, simply surveying as she takes note that at this time being, they are without a leader - without a queen. But she never truly had a queen. There is no remorse in that beating heart, there is no sadness that swells in the ducts of her eyes. There is interest, there is a level of studied patients that one could not learn. Lilith believed herself to be destined for something great some day, something more than what she found herself as currently. A sigh leaves her lips, jowls unhinging as a growl escapes from the depths of her throat, collecting herself in silence to all fours. With her thoughts scattered, the young bitch turns on her heels and leaves the area, aiming to return to the borders where she had resided for the past several months, branded by the god of Fire himself.

Posted 05-08-2017, 07:40 PM |
Rebel Scout
Male, 2.75
36 in, 135 lbs
73 ep
© Lyk
Relating to the emotions of others has always been a challenge. He was aware of the pain that hung in the air, but it was a logical conclusion given the situation. Without the dead body, perhaps he would have remained more oblivious.. nonetheless, Carion didn't have it in himself to feel any sympathy for them right now. No, he was more.. irritated. Their mourning borne frustration - was it because he could not relate to it, and again felt excluded, in the most irrational way? But someone's words regret caught upon his ears by chance were what irked him the most. Regret, it sounded like, not even entirely focused on the passing, but on themselves, things they haven't done before it was too late. Fools.

In that moment, Nicharion felt a resolve manifest. He didn't want to put off what should be done until it becomes impossible, rot in inaction while he's thrust into the unfamiliar by unfolding fate. His lineage was stronger than that. Whatever the future holds, he'll try to make sure it's of his own chosing.

Subtle motion at his side caught his attention. Right, Kynaios.. he seemed to be distracted as well. What was on his mind..? Carion needed only to follow his brother's gaze to have a fair guess. It wasn't the first death they've seen, but it probably wont be the last, either. No need to let it make them reminisce. He aimed to bump into the other boy's shoulder lightly, a silent sign of reassurance. Speak he had to of something else. "We should leave Fire, Kyn." The tone of his voice was merely serious, betraying little else. Whether or not Fire manages to get back in shape, the thought of staying in a pack that'll be going through grief he cared nothing for sickened him. A young spirit needed fresh horizons and possibilities, be it wherever Vali went or somewhere else entirely. A life of their own making, not one merely inherited.


Posted 05-11-2017, 04:15 PM |
Fire Alpha
Male, 6.50
36 in, 125 lbs
551 ep
© Jamie
ooc. Bump for Divine Intervention! :D?

Also, I will be posting here again soon, so if anyone else would like to join to pay their respects before Singer's body is cremated, please post asap!

[Image: nm68E3I.png]

Posted 05-11-2017, 05:01 PM |
OOC Account
Female, 23.00
Toll in, Smol lbs
0 ep
© Kiwi
I would like to post with Kerri please! Just kinda swamped right now, obviously, heh.

Also you may wanna hold off on cremation until after DI (not a spoiler! idk what the DI will be, but. it could affect what they want to do with the body, potentially.)

Posted 05-11-2017, 08:44 PM |
Mother Nature
Mother Nature
Female, 11.25
in, lbs
0 ep
© Divinity
Mother Nature!

Like a mushroom cloud, silence billowed outwards, radiating into the surrounding desert. The wind dropped to nothing in an instant; birds stopped their chattering as if they had fallen from the sky; even the pitter-patter of insects beneath the sand, so soft and muted that it normally went unnoticed, was conspicuously absent. Each wolf would hear only their singular heartbeat, and the foreign sound of blood pumping in their ears.

Silence would grip the Desert for several breaths. And it would be followed by a distant roar and a darkening of the horizon. It was not a shadow - but a static, blasting at the sky, a swarm of unstoppable specks of dust. In a mere second, the distant hum swept past them. Anyone left inside the den would hear a sound like hailstones, a barrage on the roof. Inside, they would be mostly protected from the sandstorm - but specks would fly in from the edges, ricocheting from the walls and layering the floor with a fresh sheet of sand. Those outside would feel a rain of sand being hurled towards them, blasting into their fur and filling the air with unbreathable dust for several long seconds.

The storm began to die down, almost as quickly as it came. It had shifted the dunes afresh, laying down an open path - a royal carpet, to make way for the molten king…

NOTE: For this event, you are required to acknowledge Mother Nature. Your character will be granted 2 EP for participating.

Posted 05-11-2017, 08:44 PM |
Divine Intervention
N/A, 11.25
x in, x lbs
0 ep
© Divinity
god of fire

  Grim, black clouds began to form overhead within the quiet that followed, swollen with angry and snarling thunder that rocked the heavens themselves; the dark storm raced outwards, spreading rapidly and consuming the skies, until naught but darkness prevailed overhead. In direct opposition to the usual wonder of stardust and delight, the heavens railed with smoldering brimstone, every incumbent strike of would-be lightning eliciting a glimpse of of hellfire from the depths of the bleak and raging squall. Akako's fury, his agony and anguish, attacked the balance of nature; it birthed an image of hell transposed across the sky, it imbued an extra layer of sweltering heat over the desert, and it inspired terror in the hearts of the unworthy. Fire's resilient Queen had breathed her last and his wolves mourned their tragic loss - but in her final days, she had been reserved, quiet, withdrawn; the strength he had so admired in her had been lost, in the end, but her devotion and love for her gods had not withered with it. When she cried for him, so too did he cry for her.

  Circling clouds had begun to funnel downward, then, but suffused by the heart of the molten king; fire licked the tongue of the tornado and spun wildly up the length until the entire twister burned bright with his sentiment, perhaps an ounce of his sympathy visible to those devoted eyes that tracked its movement. Thin, but threatening, the burning twister reached further and further, traveling from the heavens above to hell below, until it touched down on a neighboring sand dune. In the instant the celestial flames met the desert sand, a pool of magma bubbled into being at the impact site, spreading wide across the entire dune until it appeared to threaten the sandy knolls that bordered it; before their eyes and from the depths of the magma pool, something otherworldly arose. Initially, the creature seemed made of lava, itself, but as the basalt warped and swam across the beasts form, it began to take shape - growing, swelling, exploding into being, a behemoth dragon took form across from the wolves.

  Akako knelt and shook himself violently, shedding a skin of magma and scoria, dispelling the illusion of his creation; in its wake, the dark storm still brewed overhead, but the tornado of fire and the lava that had borne him into the world faded into nothing. Only he, the God of Fire, remained - he took the familiar shape of a dragon, but flecks of obsidian and peridot marked his crimson scales, hints of the great Queen they huddled around with such misery. Akako turned his head slowly to pin the wolves of the desert beneath an analytical stare, withholding judgment for but a moment; he gazed upon them and he saw, within them, their beating hearts and their impassioned souls - he witnessed, in some, a readiness to be rid of the desert and, in others, a fierceness to rival that of their predecessors. Without a word, Akako knelt briefly and leaped from the dune with his massive wings beating twice furiously to bring the god aloft; he swept over their gathered bodies once with a ground-shuddering cry before, all at once, he flew higher and higher still, shrieking out his anguish and breathing streaks of summoning flame across the skies. Their god held fast, circling above as a symbol of strength, awaiting the very moment their goodbyes had ceased - he would attend them yet, ready beyond reason to see his wolves rally over this loss so that all of Doutaini would know, even in mourning, Fire persisted. Only when they'd had their private moments would he descend, to breathe over her body the all-consuming immolation that was their way; let them grieve, but moreover, let them rise!
↺ ❂ ↻

Akako appears in the form of a dragon and takes flight, circling overhead. He is waiting to cremate Singer's body himself.

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