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[summons] morwen, tunglid, all welcome | on pathway outside springs | early summer | overcast, windy, evening

Name Player
Lorenzo Silvano Jill

Lorenzo was a male unaccustomed to defeat. He did not relish in the thought he’d failed, somehow, by returning to the springs without the blood of Morwen’s enemy—his enemy—lining his gut. A deep-seated hatred for the one who’d tarnished his home continued to simmer in his core, burning just beneath his skin like the heat of the springs. Only, this fervor wasn’t so welcome.

He panted openly as he scaled the graded stone path, his heavy paws weighing against it as the winds of eons passed had. With summer nearly in full swing, the caverns had grown sweltering. Though their heat was welcome when the nights grew chilly in spite of the warming season, he could not endure the vapors for the same stretches of time as in the winter. So he’d curled up beneath a shadow to sleep through the most unforgiving temperatures of the day, only crawling from his alcove when the sun fell beyond the cliffs.

There was much to discuss with Morwen.

Even more to discuss with Tunglid.

Lorenzo’s suspicion toward the male in particular was diminishing. Had he intended to make a move—either against him or Morwen—surely, he would have done it by now. They were small in number. Vulnerable. An ambitious yearling cursed to live in an elder’s body, and a she-wolf wracked by the unwarranted return of her past. Hardly a legion to conquer.

But the cowled male had been nothing but steadfast, and his recent consistency, dependability, had Lorenzo thinking.

As he settled into a sit along the path, choosing a bend in the terrain that led out toward the pass, he lifted his head and released a howl. If they were in range, he did hope they’d come.

summons specifically for morwen and tunglid, but obviously any wolf in the area is welcome~

Jan 13, 2018 12:43 AM

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Name Player
Tunglid frá Norðri Madison

Though his loyalty to Lorenzo and Morwen was unwavering, Tunglið could not bring himself to spend as much time within the springs as he’d like. The heat, any kind of heat suffocated him, and that which spouted from the springs was enough to close his lungs and puncture his chest, running an uncomfortable burn beneath his fur. In the free time he had to wander, he wandered on the slopes, between the trees, where the heat of the springs could not reach him. It was becoming painfully clear, however, that he sorely missed the winter months.

Jaws cracked open, allowing his tongue to roll from his maw in a hefty pant as he jogged through the pines in search of a source of water to sate his thirst. Dark blood clotted just under his chin and on his cheeks, where his tongue could not reach and he could not adequately rub it away; a raccoon had been his meal, and he could feel the satisfaction of fullness begging him to find a cool place to nap through its digestion, but not before quenching the thirst that followed. He knew of a nearby mountain stream that could do the job.

He reached it before long, lowering his maw to the water and relishing the cold sensation in his throat, drinking his fill until a song rose up through the slopes.

Occasionally, he heard the cries of their neighbors. But this did not belong to them. He recognized the voice as distinctly Lorenzo’s.

Tunglið did not hesitate to part from the stream, his lingering drowsiness ebbing away in favor of curiosity. The northerner splashed through it without so much as a second glance, jogging swiftly toward the call, toward the springs, hoping that the male had not taken refuge inside. Dutifully, he would enter if he had to, but the atmosphere of the day was far more inviting than that of the springs. The clouds offered respite from the glow of the sun, as did the wind, whipping his fur in a way that reminded him of the mountains surrounding his birth territory.

He was still panting by the time he spotted Lorenzo. Even cloud cover could not mask the heat of summer. He was just grateful the man was sitting outside. Tunglið slowed his pace and climbed the rise, pausing to dip his head once he reached the man’s company. “Lorenzo,” he greeted plainly.

He turned his body just slightly so that the wind would buffet him and ease the heat from his blood, silently anticipating the reason for the call.

Jan 13, 2018 11:07 AM — Post #1

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Name Player
Morwen maiyev

The days had blurred precariously. Some, she could remember better than others, like the one when the mountains to the south exploded, and the one she met an empress. The others, though, she couldn’t recall anything about, save the pain in her feet, and the throbbing in her chest. They swirled past sharper, palpable scenes like fog, obscuring what little grasp on time Morwen could manage to gain.

She’d been like this before, a long time ago.

Couldn’t remember exactly how old she was when the woman she called her mother died.

Or what the weather was like when Grey was killed.

Just the feeling of it.

A howl bellowed in the slopes. She could hear its place in the east, near the springs; tell from its deep tone that it was one of the men she knew. Or, at least, she hoped it was. She didn’t think Gareth would be one to announce his presence in a place he wasn’t welcome, nor had she caught wind of even a trace of him since they’d found Jarius, but…

Would he?

Swallowing, Morwen stopped her aimless trudging. She pivoted around, and headed back the direction she’d come from. Back to the springs.

| arriving next round.

Jan 13, 2018 05:21 PM — Post #2

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Name Player
Lorenzo Silvano Jill

In the time he spent waiting, Lorenzo had little else to do besides scour the slopes with his clouded vision. In quiet moments, he found himself wondering if his sight was growing worse lately, or if he was merely being deceived into thinking as much by the natural veil of mist that pervaded the air around the springs.

He hoped the latter was the only real explanation.

So while Tunglid’s scent reached him before long, it took him several moments to recognize the male’s figure along the slopes, apt as he was to blend in with the striated, black and grey crags. He spared the cowled one a smile, one welcoming but rightfully wan in the face of their recent troubles, and a polite dip of his head.

“Tunglid. It is good to see you.”

The cavern belched out a cloud of mist, and Lorenzo allowed it to pass on the breeze, taking a brief moment to study the cliffs in case Morwen appeared just as quickly as the Nordic male. But he was nothing if not patient, and he was beginning to entertain a certain faith in her lately. Surely, she would come.

In the meantime, transparency. He wasted little time in broaching the subject on his mind.

“I wished to speak to you both about Gareth, but more than that as well—the matters you’ve expressed interest in.” The league, Lorenzo was certain he’d understand. “I do believe I have kept you waiting long enough.”

Jan 13, 2018 09:52 PM — Post #3

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Name Player
Tunglid frá Norðri Madison

In his approach, he caught Lorenzo’s smile and wished that he could have produced one so easily. It seemed, however, in the span of his life his visage had hardened into a type of stone unmalleable even in the face of such emotions as - what could he call this, contentment? - at the company of the older male.

“You as well,” he replied, and cast his gaze back across the slopes, already searching for the third of their small party.

His ear twitched as Lorenzo began to explain the reasoning for the call. Tunglið had long since abandoned the need for any explanation; he didn’t even feel that Lorenzo or Morwen needed to justify their reasons for summoning him, but he appreciated it nonetheless. Especially as Lorenzo implied that their meeting was about more than what had been weighing on all of their minds.

Gareth was a concern, yes. One that bit at his mind and drew hot, roiling blood to the surface. Anticipation and anger. But he found respite in the suggestion that there was something else they had to look forward to. His gaze turned back to Lorenzo, shining with vested interest in the subject.

Jan 15, 2018 07:12 PM — Post #4

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Name Player
Morwen maiyev

Morwen had debriefed herself the whole walk there. She could surmise what this meeting would be about. She’d recited what to say; brought it back from her recesses, gone over all the relevant details. Tried to find the best words. Tried to soften the edge of it. She tried to tell herself it would be easy. That she just had to say the words. Just had to recite the script again.

But nothing had been easy since they had found Jarius.

His blood, still swirling in the blue spring.

His rotten stench, filling the chamber like a virulence.

His body, dirty, swollen, and caked in blood, like she had imagined.

The woman’s hackles rose to spite her collected facade. She could see shapes in the distance, white and gray and black and blue. Her feet stopped short.

Nothing could be easy.

Rigidly, Morwen forced her legs into motion again. Her pace had slowed considerably, desperate to prolong this, no matter how hard she tried. To the men, she offered a bark to announce her arrival. Her heart had already begun to pound.

Jan 15, 2018 07:50 PM — Post #5

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Name Player
Lorenzo Silvano Jill

He did not miss the interest apparent in Tunglid’s bracing gaze. His own softened in response, relaxing those lines of his visage not carved into permanence by age. There was something fundamentally reassuring in knowing his purpose here would not be shouldered in desolate solitude, that in time he might find more allies who wished to pledge themselves to what he sought to architect.

The sound of claws against stone hardened his expression into one of practiced attention, and his head turned in time to notice Morwen drawing near to the gathering. He could not be certain if the faltering of her steps was true, or merely some consequence of his worsening vision.

No matter the distance at which she held herself, though, there was no mistaking the heaviness of dread in her posture. His ears splayed.

He provided her the time necessary to settle into a comfortable enough position for discussion, hardly expecting their talk to be a concise one, despite his every intention of launching into matters as timely as possible. Their recent mission continued to harbor a sense of urgency.

And so, as she came, he did just that, casting his gaze to Tunglid once more before it came to rest on Morwen.

“I mentioned to Tunglid that I intend to speak to you both about our future here. And if we are to secure one, I do think we ought to adopt different methods of searching for him.”

He hardly needed an introduction.

“Morwen, I have been to the slopes to our south, but have found nothing.” His chest heaved with a sigh. “For that, I am so sorry.”

In the silence that followed, he offered an unspoken inquiry, one borne of wondering whether the others had discovered new leads in their own wanderings. In regard to such developments, he expected more from Tunglid, knowing the male hadn’t been the one paralyzed by Gareth’s very scent. But he would not discount Morwen’s aptitude to track the male Lorenzo had come to know only by scent and name, if her terror then had begotten anything resembling resolve.

Not that he would fault her if it hadn’t.

if y’all wanna take this a lil slower while “memento mori” is going on, i’m all fine with that~ :D likewise, tho, feel free to reply at your own pace!

Jan 15, 2018 09:39 PM — Post #6

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[ Edited: Jan 15, 2018 11:02 PM by Lorenzo ]
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