An Old Wolf Trods.

[.Rabid Lycan.]

“ Hmmm… well, alright. I suppose I could give you a few pointers.”[/font] He flashed a playful grin, rising to his paws like an actor stepping out onto a stage. “Y’see, this ‘gyspy’ stuff… a lot of people think it’s ritual, or about the afterlife, or whatever. But it’s not. Superstitions and magic? Yeah, some people believe in it, but that’s not the point at all. What it really is… it’s the energy. The energy of everything around us. Pack myths circle around ‘what happened’ and ‘what happens after death’ and whatnot, but gypsy lore? It’s a bunch of stories. No one really thinks they actually happened, exactly... well, there’s the Sun and the Moon that created everything, but that’s beside the point. It’s about life, not death. My life, your life, his life, her life—all life.”[/font]
He breathed loudly, as if he had been holding his breath throughout the entire speech. “Now, there’s herblore and the stories. The stories teach lessons, encourage cleverness and creativity, and are just, simply, entertaining. It’s not history, but it’s sort of a unique thing we all share, and that anyone can add on to, but not take away from. Herblore is practical by absorbing the energies found naturally around us and directing it into useful—or, in some cases, dangerous—outlets. A simple healing mixture, for example, needs a bit of everything you wish to convey. You don’t want to throw thorns into it, do you? Sure, the energy in a thorn is protective, but it is also aggressive. You need to find a more gentle, yet still protective, energy to put into the mix. It’s an art, really, and takes a lot of study, but… you know. We like to be well-rounded.”[/font] He laughed. “We’re also not entirely fond of packs either; the packs are the trees, while rogues are the clouds. Our roots glide with us wherever we please, all along the same sky.”[/font]
He coughed, nervously laughing as if he only just realized that he had an audience. “…heh, sorry. I like to ramble. Did you catch any of that, or…?”[/font]

[Sivoncé™]

Damien listened attentively, both surprised and intrigued by what he heard. He's right, it's not at all what I thought it was about, or what things like that are typically about. All of this arguement over which deities are good and bad and which ones are real or fake or really watching over us....all this obsession with death while we're alive....it's such a goddamn waste. And energy....here, of all places, there's a ton of fricken energy. This is too much for coincidence... Something else flickered in the back of his mind, a memory from his first meetings with Sanceul. I thought she was so wasteful, so obsessed with death...and, yet, we wound up buddies anyway and we have more in common than we thought.
"Is it strange for me to say it sort of sounds beautiful?" He smiled kindly at Icarus. On a whim, the words continued in a rush from his mouth. "You see, where I'm from..." he cut off, looked at his paws, and then murmured in a low voice to Icarus. "Icarus....I'm a Hellfirian. I'm not evil, or resurrected....this is the first time I've ever lived. You don't know how good it is to hear that there are wolves who are not obsessed with death and or dying. Like a breath of fresh air..."

[.Rabid Lycan.]

“Nah, mate, not weird at all. It is beautiful… even the dark and grimy parts of the world only intensify the good parts, wouldn’t you say?”[/font] Icarus leaned closer toward Damien as the brute’s voice dropped, a sort of nonjudgmental expression fading across his features. He stood there, drinking in the new information, before offering a sharp laugh. “You, of all wolves? Really, now? Well, you’re certainly not evil, I’d say, or I’d be sneezing all over. I’m allergic to wicked energies, ya see.”[/font] He winked. “In any case, I’d be more than happy to teach you more in depth things next time we cross paths, if you’d like. Maybe you could even tell me a bit more about where you came from; after all, it may be a new story in the making.”[/font]

[Sivoncé™]

He felt a tentative smile on his maw and nodded. "It's not at all what I thought it was...I think it might be something worth studying further. But as for my story," he winced, then continued doubtfully, "It's not a happy story...but I can see how it would give reason to why gypsies practice as they do." He sighed softly, studying his paws for a moment before looking back at Icarus. "I don't really know how to thank you for tonight. I came here hopeless and alone. It's not like that for me now. And I hope when I talk to Sanceul I'll be able to mind you some peace of mind about your father," he barked sincerely. He looked to the sky, watching the stars twinkle against their dark canvas. It's such a hopeful idea, this gypsy thing, Damien thought. Savoring the taste of life.
"There was once a time where I idolized the packs," Damien murmured softly. "When I was born....during that great fire that pased through the forest....I intended to go to them. But things happened...that set me on a different track. If there is one thing that I do believe for certain...it is that things happen for a reason. I see them in a different light now. Perhaps they aren't so glorious as their legends make them out to be," he contemplated.

[.Rabid Lycan.]

He rolled his shoulders casually, driving the stiffness from his joints as his slick bronze pelage shifted across his muscles. A shimmering green orb blinked at Damien, once again evaluating the brute, but in a new light. Things aren’t always what they seem, are they? “Well, it seems there’s been quite a bit of magic in the air tonight, wouldn’t you say? But thanks, mate. Sincerely thanks.”[/font] He nodded assuredly, his expression supporting every word he spoke. “As for pack wolves, though, they’re not necessarily wrong… just different. I wouldn’t say they’re glorious either, but they’re interesting. They’ve got quite of bit of energy, too… just a tad more pessimistic, I’d say.”[/font] He chuckled pleasantly and dipped his head in a low salute. “It’s been nice meeting you, Damien. We will surely cross paths again; I can smell it.”[/font]

[Sivoncé™]

Damien dipped his head to the wolf, both in a repeated thanks and a hearty agreement. "Most definitely. I'll find Sanceul....and then we'll come to you, friend. It was a pleasure to meet such decent wolves for once...and without all of the clawing and snarling." He smiled, remembering when Sanceul had first disappeared and Icarus had stumbled upon him bristling and hostile. This guy's good. Gotta keep the good ones close to you -- not too many of us left.
He stood and stretched each of his muscled legs in turn, shifting his broad shoulders slightly as he did so. He nodded to Whisper and Iver.
"Best of luck to both of you on your searches -- I hope you find your Nightshade very soon. And maybe we'll cross paths in the future as well. Good hunting, both of you." With that and a lick to smooth the fur of his chest, Damien set off at a briskpace into the woodlands. There was a spring in his step as the dark brujo disappeared. His copper eyes were trained determindly forward, his ears swiveled attentively with the sounds of the forest, and his nose was thorough in its searching of the winds.

[Destiny]

It was a very, very, very long time before the old wolf responded to Whisper, or anyone, for that matter. Shoulders remained hunched, muzzle drooped towards the dirt, and eyes half closed. Even tail was not held in the usual high manner whilst he mulled over everything. Was this really something he was willing to do? Take this lovely female to find her sister, to find his lover, after everything that had happened between himself and Nightshade in the past. Simply facing the territory would be hard enough, let alone the wolf, if they actually managed to find her! Still, though, she had asked him, despite her initial reaction to his manner of speech, and she seemed sincere in her words. Finally, he breathed a sigh, and quietly voiced a few words. "Yes, I loved her. . I love her. ." There was a slight flinch, as if he half expected to be screamed at or beaten senseless for the words.

Straightening up, he turned towards Damien, and eyed him for a moment. "Good day, Damien - hopefully we shall meet again. In even happier times." The wolf strangely reminded him of someone, and Iver could see a picture of an older male in his mind - Lithium - but could not grasp the name, for the life of him. It was somewhat strange, really. After another few moments of gazing after Damien, he turned towards Icarus, and gave the cheerful fellow a partial grimace, partial grin. "Good to meet you, Icarus - you're truly a charming fellow. I hope we, too, meet on good terms some day, soon, again. It has been a pleasure."

Finally, finally, he turned back towards Whisper. With a twitch of the nose, the old wolf hopped down with youthful ease from the high boulder, and trod-ed a few paces off into the forest, before pausing, turning, and looking back towards her. "Well, are you coming?" A sloppy sort of, though painful looking, smile pushed up half of his face. There was a strange light in his eyes that hadn't been there before. Hope? "We need to find that wolf before she sets off for Golden Wolf knows where. I told her to go home once, a long time ago. . But I don't think she ever went back to the Mountains." For a moment, he looked distraught, but it quickly cleared up, leaving a renewed expression across his face. "I'm almost certain she's around here somewhere. I swear, I can still smell her on the air."

[Sivoncé™]

A brief, parting smile formed on her lips as she nodded her goodbyes to Damien and Icarus. The smile turned to a flirty smirk as Icarus passed, and she lightly brushed him with her tail.
"If you're ever looking for some spice in your life...come and find me." And then, very slowly, she turned back to watch Iver and the drama of his internal war unfold in front of her. It seemed a decade before the wolf would even open his eyes and consider speaking. Tension weighed down on her shoulders, and she breathed heavily though she hadn't run since waking. Her pulse quickened as Iver began to speak. And then, the small, sparkling smile returned.
"Yes. Let's go. With luck, we'll find her before the night is out. If not...well, there's always tomorrow, right?" She winced as she said those last words. Tomorrow is a millenium in my lifetime. Life doesn't wait...neither should we. "We're going to find her, Iver. I can feel it."
She turned towards the woodlands and took a deep breath.
"Lead the way."

((continue in another thread? I shall make it right away ))

[.Rabid Lycan.]

Moving to complete his exit, the sudden presence of warmth—and pleasant, soft warmth at that—halted him in his tracks. Glancing toward the fae with one brow raised, yet another smile—this time far more mischievous in nature—bled into existence. He raised his tail slightly, nodding with a laugh. His eyes traced her figure within nanoseconds, memorizing with a near salacious enthusiasm.
“Will do, I can assure ya that,”[/font] he replied, his singsong chatter complimented with a brief wink. He swiveled about quickly, nodding his respects to the elder male. “And to you, my friend, I wish the best of luck as well. Adieu.”[/font]
In hardly a flash, Icarus was flying on his feet, the spring in his step as obvious as ever as he ghosted into the night.
There’s magic here, and it breathes sweet promise.