Down by the Banks [Lir]

[Heika]

With the crowning of summer came a burst of activity in the Rock River Delta. As the salmon made their annual journey upstream to lay their eggs, bears crowded the riverbanks eagerly. One after another, they dragged fish out of the water and ate them where they stood, least another eager grizzly stole their ideal fishing spot. The forest rang with the sound of rushing water and bears growling at each other as they fought for prey, all of them eager to put on weight before their winter hibernation, and Sol had heard it as soon as he stepped foot in the area. Despite his large stature and heavyset frame, he would still be no match for an aggressive brown bear. Knowing this, he made sure not to wander too close to the river, opting instead to remain in the safety provided by the forest, watching curiously as the bears jostled each other and fished for more salmon. It was his first time in the area, and Sol was excitedly drinking in his surroundings. From the way the sun warmed his pelt — a stark contrast to the icy weather of his birthplace in the north — to the birdsong filtering through the leaves. There was so much life here, and he watched in wide-eyed amazement as animals he had never seen before stalked through the undergrowth, watching him leerily. On four spindly legs, they stood a little taller than him, and their stout torsos tapered away to end in a short, fluffy tail. For the largest of the group, a set of large, commanding horns sat on the crown of its head, and Sol wondered how much damage that could do to a wolf. In a way, they looked like the fauna of the north, but there were some obvious differences. They lacked the shaggy fur the alpine goats sported to chase away the bitter cold, and they walked more gracefully than the lumbering bison found at the base of Everbane Mountain. I wonder what they're called, Sol thought to himself as the animals finally bounded away, tired of being watched as they grazed. Maybe if he found some wolves from around here, they would be willing to enlighten him. Although, when he first arrived in the territory, there were no scent markers claiming the land, so he could only assume that there was no pack settled here. I can't see why though. If wolves are willing to live in the destitute lands up north, surely there are those who would prefer to settle here.

425	Lirriel
Phew finally got this up!

ORIGINAL PHOTO © KATI H.

[Lirriel]

A sycophantic, prophetic,
Socratic junkie wannabe,

Vivid and vibrant and vivaciously living as only such a perfect ecosystem could! Faust followed the length of the river as it swept downward toward the sea, his plumy tail raised in bouncing glee that turned his loping gallop choppy and - but what was a word that could find correspondence with choppy and yet keep its alliteration? Faust did not pause to question the query further, merely tossed it over his shoulder as he might a torn scrap of skin from the flank of fawn. His was an infectious glee, sparkling maple dripping down distended bark, begging to be lapped at, smear-like and sticky if one was tricked by its tempestuous amber tantalizing - and oh drat, there was the length of his mind gone along on yet another adventure that wasted nothing but the distance his paws traveled.

And so it was only his good luck - as it was always his good luck, for sense had never made itself known in the confines of his cranium - that kept the bear closest to him focused on its fishy meal, bright red salmon that caught Faust's eye and encouraged his lope into a ground-eating run, the type that made him feel as the wind might. His small frame dove amongst the rocky croppings that passed for obstacles on the pebbly ground, and when movement flashed in the corner of his silver eyes, he instinctively chased after them. He darted as a fox might, at once on the riverbank and then upon the forest bank, and then into the foliage itself, running for the sheer love of running that had encouraged him to travel beyond the Dove Hills, to travel northward and southward and finally he was on the western coast, revitalized by the rushing water and the warmth of the sun on his black, turning his flanks russet-red at the tips only so long as the light filtered through.

He did not have any true hunger, so when the scent of another suddenly assailed his nostrils, Faust quickly found himself slowing, carving a wide circle over clogged terrain, his light steps springing him over fallen bits of wood, overly large stones, dips in the land and - and he had lost it again, slowing to the steady trot inherent to all wolves, the tireless pace sprung from wanderlust and a love of the wind and sky. He panted, not quite spent from the sudden exercise, but moreso excited and with his blood all rushing within his veins and threatening to explode from within. The thought made him squirm, but Faust barely broke stride as he headed toward the scent's origin.

There was no fear to be found in his countenance, less so weariness, for Faust had never known weariness. He was sure luck was with him as it always was, and he knew himself to be small, smaller than most wolves his age, more pup than adult: which meant, in simpler terms, that he knew how to sprint as a hare might, twisting and turning at the last moment, and he prided himself on his ability to escape a fight. So when the other wolf finally came into view, blending beautifully into the forest as if the leaves themselves had conspired to form him - well, Faust grinned and called out,

"Well met!"

A simple Epicurean Philosophy
And you say I'm such a cliche.

Heika	i'm assuming these are deer lmao
wolf stock by kati h. at dawnthieves

[Heika]

“Well met!” The sudden call caused Sol’s ears to prick and swivel in the direction it had come from. Immediately afterwards, his head followed suit, and he turned to see another wolf bounding through the forest. As they loped past the foliage, their fur bounced with every step, and their tail flew through the air after them. Originally taken back by their size — Sol was sure that if they stood side-by-side, the other wolf would barely reach his shoulder — he blinked before taking a moment to examine them more closely. There was a certain carelessness in their eyes, a childish glimmer of excitement painted across their face, and just watching them filled Sol with a sense of energy he hadn’t experienced since he was just a naive pup playing in the snow with his siblings. Moreover, their happiness was infectious, and Sol felt compelled to return their smile, not that he was against it in the first place. If he was being honest, Sol was rather surprised at the appearance of the other wolf, especially one that appeared to be so young. A pup? Or, maybe a yearling? And on their own, too. Just moments ago, he had thought that the Rock River Delta was empty, barren of any wolves except for the faint, barely there scent trails of wolves from ages past. Yet, now he realized how wrong he had been in assuming that. The area was rich and fruitful; prey aplenty decorated the landscape, and any wolf with a brain would know that they could live an easy life here. Sol had also considered that possibility for himself. Yet, as he cast his thoughts upon the mysterious world, upon the lands he had yet to venture through, he knew now was not the time for him to settle. His wanderer’s spirit called for a journey; his wanderlust had not been slaked. So, while settling down was certainly not an impossibility, it was definitely in the far, far future. “Hello,” he replied, voice gentle as he padded over to meet the other wolf halfway. His tail swished behind him affably, and, although he stood at his full, intimidating height, his movements lacked any aggressiveness. While he was kind to everyone he met, Sol held a soft spot for younglings. He loved playing with them, and was ever entertained by their mischievous antics as well as their liveliness. Similarly, they adored his impressive size, often asking him to swing them around as they hung on to his tail or tussle with them playfully as they learned to develop their own strength. “What are you doing here?”

438	Lirriel
Ahhhh I'm sorry this is so bad and late DDD: I've been having some really bad writer's block lately, so all my replies are turning out really bleh

ORIGINAL PHOTO © KATI H.

[Lirriel]

A sycophantic, prophetic,
Socratic junkie wannabe,

Lonely nights and lonely days had slipped past Faust much as shimmering swallowtails might: he had watched their passage with wonder but never distaste. His was a heart too filled with joy to ever find itself empty of company, and was he himself not the type of company that might swallow up the sun? Brilliant and bright - though he never directly referred to himself as such, for Faust had been taught modesty and humility and all the words a good wolf might one day lay claim to. But nor was he a true misanthrope, so to be met with the strange wolf's countenance was neither an upset nor a gift. The big stranger's body invoked merely the thought of surprises, elegantly neutral and seeping gray in the black-white of impressions.

Through his journey to the other's side, Faust did not stop to consider his surroundings. He was not one who had ever truely heeded pack boundaries, due to his parents' own nomadic way of life - and he felt no reason to hold guilt, for it was simply his upbringing. He was a small beast, much less aggressive than an aggrieved squirrel, as docile as a dove might be; so why should packs find his presence a fault against his character? To state it more plainly: Faust did not think to question the lack of aggression from the other wolf, nor had he ever pondered how packs might react to an intrusion such as his. And his cavalier attitude was rewarded now, in the way the stranger came to meet him as a friend might. If nothing else, the tall wolf was undeniably unaggressive, and Faust found his head tipping back, nose stuck in the air as he peered up at his giant companion.

His tail wagged faintly at the other's returned greeting, though it was the half-listening gesture of a pup preoccupied with some new toy. Too big! So big! How might a wolf grow so large, and be so mighty and tall and - and - and the words were lost to Faust. His gray eyes stretched wide in excitement and he sat back on his hind legs, rising on them much in the way a great bear might, though Faust hardly resembled a bear - more fox, with his plush coat and lengthy tail, and his ears were the pinned back delight of all canines. He balanced on his back legs for the briefest of moments then fell back to the earth, his front paws thumping softly on the packed soil. "You are so large! How can you be so large?"

His voice was the excited yip of a child, though he was undeniably an adult - yet one newly made, separated from his family for perhaps a season at most. And even that seemed doubtful, given the way he pranced, with the ineptitude of a child who had never faced true danger and had grown up loved and safe and secure. The other wolf's question he ignored much as he might the buzzing of some bug, more intent upon discovering just how a wolf might grow to such a height. Even his father would be smaller than this wolf, and until now it had been Faust's father that he measured all others against. So this discovery - oh, lucky day, what a discovery!

"Gosh," he breathed out.

A simple Epicurean Philosophy
And you say I'm such a cliche.

Heika	i legit have no excuses beyond sheer laziness ;;
wolf stock by kati h. at dawnthieves

[Heika]

Sol blinked as the other wolf yipped at him excitedly. “You are so large! How can you be so large?” They had breathed, rearing up to wobble precariously on their hind legs for a moment before falling back to all fours. “Gosh.” Chuckling at the other wolf’s awestruck expression, Sol flashed him a bright grin. This reaction was hardly new to him; everywhere he went, friendly strangers would comment on his size. And, while he was self-conscious about his bulkiness at first, he had long since learned how helpful it was to be so heavyset, and had come to embrace it. But, for all its practical applications, Sol’s physical structure was still most useful when it came down to interacting with those younger than him, even if he did have to be more careful not to get too rough when play-fighting. But, as he observed the other wolf a little closer, he realized that his initial assumptions about their age was wrong. The wolf was small, almost surprisingly so, but he was by no means a pup fresh out of the den. As they had spoke, Sol had caught the flash of jagged canine teeth from within their jaws, the sharpness and length a stark contrast from a pup’s weak milk teeth. Moreover, they leapt back and forth with grace, lacking any of the incoordination found in yearlings who were still struggling to deal with their lanky legs and growing bodies. In fact, if Sol were to venture a new guess, he would suggest that the other wolf was about his age, even if they didn’t act like it. Well, no matter. With his own old-fashioned soul, he really had no right to cast judgement. “I ate a lot when I was younger, I guess,” Sol answered honestly, reflecting on how he devoured nearly twice the amount of meat his siblings had with a wry smile, humoring the other wolf’s question before prompting one of his own. “But, how about you. You’re rather small to be on your own, aren’t you?” If he was strictly referring to their chronological age, there’d be no denying that he was being hypocritical if he was right with his theory. But, as it was, Sol could take care of himself. There were few wolves who could match him in strength and size, and, with his latest gift from Chaos, he would never go thirsty no matter where he was. But, he couldn’t imagine the other wolf in battle, not when they resembled a wiry fox more than a robust wolf, and Sol didn’t doubt that hunting large game would prove extremely unwieldy for them. So, why were they traversing through this landscape alone, and how long have they been out here? From their sleek coat, it appeared that they have been holding up well enough, but once winter descended on the land, would they still be alright?

486	Lirriel
Sorry for the late reply! D:

ORIGINAL PHOTO © KATI H.