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Post by Burn on Jan 23, 2021 7:40:56 GMT
R E V A N
The sharp, metallic tang of fresh blood filled the dry winter air. Simultaneously, it punched the taste buds of Revan's tongue as he tore into the flesh of a downed doe elk, canines ripping out a hefty chunk of meat. It was still warm, being he had just killed the beast, and it tasted so good. The tall, dark male raised his head, spiky scruff swaying. With eyes as bloody red as the meat dangling in his mouth, he quickly scanned the area. He hated being out in the open like this; especially when the snow covered any grass he could lurk in, and made his coppery red and black fur stand out in stark contrast against the alabaster powder. But, he had to admit, it was well worth being out here for a meal.
It had been so long since he had a successful hunt on big prey - he was a loner, and relied on no one but himself, which rarely pulled through aside from hunting small prey and scavenging. To feel the adrenaline of running in the wide open, chasing down challenging prey, bring it down and finally swallow whole chunks of warm meat...it was almost as if his typical bad luck was taking a day off.
He would just have to see about that, though. Revan didn't exactly trust when things went well for him - usually, he had to go to hell and back to get something good, especially in the winter season. But today, he manages to kill a grown elk without taking any more injuries than a couple kicks to the muzzle? How odd.
The lean male ate his fill quite quickly. After only getting small meals for so long it was easy to satisfy his small stomach with a few big bites of meat, he figured. Unfortunately, though the morose male was pleased to be full, it did tire him out. That was a terrible feeling to him, it was too vulnerable. He huffed a sigh, most pluming from his nostrils, as he flopped into the blood-stained snow next to his carcass. He would rest for a little while, until his energy returned, but he would keep a wary eye out to anything that approached. Just have to hope his luck would continue, he thought, tucking one front paw under the white tuft of fur on his chest.
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Post by kaz on Jan 29, 2021 6:56:58 GMT
There was a certain appeal, one had to admit, to the openness of a snow-covered field; a blank canvas, waiting to be painted on. (Murmur had, once, amused himself with carving out something that appeared to be the form of a wolf in the deep snow, only to realize as he stepped away, that it was misshapen and crude, and he hadn’t attempted it again, though the idea was ever present.) That was what was most beautiful about it, he thought: the emptiness, the nothing; whiteness meeting a white sky. Still, as romantic as the man was, he couldn’t handle it for too long. Coming over a crest and seeing a featureless blanket lying upon the land, rendering it colorless, one had to stop and stare. Traveling over the snow, watching the pawsteps appear behind you, trailing endlessly into the distance; yes, it was satisfying. But then the shine wore off and one was left with just bright nothingness, interminably stretching to the horizon. At least, still, far off he could see the shape of mountains, their details indiscernible but nonetheless it was something to look at.
And then, a shape. It was his nose that had alerted him first, but as he turned to look, he could see the form of something to his left. Red fur, starkly contrasting the white landscape; but that hadn’t been what Murmur had smelled. It had been the deer, lying dead before the other creature, its crimson blood he could just barely make out. A bear, maybe? Murmur stood there for a long moment, considering his options. The red-furred figured didn’t appear to be big enough to be a bear (though from this distance, he couldn’t be sure, but comparing it to the shape of the deer - which, he thought, could also be half eaten…) and they were just lying there beside their prey. Or perhaps they were dead too. He couldn’t be sure, but whatever the case was, even though the meat smelled fresh, it could have just been preserved nicely in the cold; could be that the hunter ate his fill and left the rest, maybe killing a… bear… cub in the process?
Now he was just sounding ridiculous. Chances were it was another wolf, really, not a bear, though he hadn’t come across any wolves of that particular coloration (no bears either, but, still.) And besides, if it wasn’t, he could outrun a bear… probably.
Murmur moved toward the two shapes, stepping slowly and carefully, tongue lolling from his mouth, steaming in the brisk air. He was careful to keep a close eye on the figure, though his gaze kept shifting slowly to the deer in his hunger. When he was within speaking distance - though he had to raise his voice - the man called out: “Greetings,” he said, and now could see clearly that this was in fact a wolf with just a peculiar coat color. He gazed admiringly at it. It was quite gorgeous, as was the male wearing it. Murmur grinned amiably. “Don’t suppose you need a date to help you finish this meal? I can offer good conversation and bad jokes.” After all, one must never show up to dinner empty handed.
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heathen child #1 :)
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Post by Burn on Feb 6, 2021 21:39:04 GMT
"Speech" "Listen" Revan kept a steady gaze across the vast fields of white, watching the low, grey clouds shift around the peaks of the mountains. They were so distant that it seemed like a weeks trek away, but perhaps that was just the blinding white snow messing with his perception. No matter how far away those looming mountains were though, Revan wanted to go there. At least he could find some cover there, around the wooded foothills and amongst the rocky slopes. He let himself wander off in thought, considering his next plan of action. He did have this kill here, but he was already full, perhaps he should just take his leave and get away from this sea of snow? That seemed like a waste, though, there was still so much meat left on the doe, and he knew he would get hungry again. Maybe he could cache chunks of it in a more secluded area...no, that was too long to travel, and as the male's red eyes grew heavy, he had no intent on running back and forth just yet. He would just have to wait here and eat as much as he could, he figured.
Or would he?
Pointed black ears twitched as the sound of crunching snow grew louder behind him. Quickly, but calmly, Revan turned his view from the distant mountains and flashed his red eyes upon an approaching figure; a male wolf, it seemed. Perhaps it was his weary state, but Revan didn't jump to his feet like he usually would if someone approached him, instead, he watched intently, piercing eyes taking note of each movement from the stranger. Despite remaining still, however, the resting male showed clear vigilance.
"Greetings," They spoke, stopping a respectable distance away. Now, the dark male decided to get up. Rising to all fours with smooth grace, he stood tall and confidently, and though scowling, his expression was indifferent. "Salutations," He greeted. Well, so much for his change of fortune holding out - now, while full and groggy, he may have to defend the food he had earned for himself. He never trusted anyone, and didn't doubt that some wolves were so pathetic to steal from others hard work, he wouldn't bother to give this fellow the benefit of the doubt.
“Don’t suppose you need a date to help you finish this meal? I can offer good conversation and bad jokes.” Scowling brows furrowed at this. "A date...?" He repeated, as if speaking the word would help him process the meaning. He knew what a date was, but how did it apply to this situation? Was it a date whenever you ate with someone? If that was the case, he had shared a few meals with others before, had he always been missing something? His social skills really suck. "Not a date," He affirmed, glaring at the stranger warily. He gave up on trying to decipher the meaning of the males words and went on to consider the res of what he said then. He had to admit, he could use an extra stomach to finish off this meal, the sooner he could leave these open plains the better. Revan glanced to the side at the carcass, putting thought into his decision. He could easily say no, as he didn't really care if this fellow starved or not, but...did he want them to leave? Even if they already had confused him greatly, Revan had to admit, he was lonely. He hated being alone in the winter, when his negative thoughts could smother him so easily. Red eyes slipped back up to the opposing wolf. Revan did stand taller than them, and they didn't seem to have malicious intent. Perhaps he wasn't out of luck just yet after all.
"Alright," He accepted in a gruff tone. The spiky furred male began to turn then, but not before glancing back to put in one last word. "Don't eat the heart, or I'll rip out yours." He warned. He hadn't had the room in his stomach to eat through the chest of the animal, but he enjoyed the hearts of his victims. Revan, with high steps, moved away from the kill to give the greyish colored male room, stopping just a meter or two away. "What are you called?" He questioned, taking his seat in the snow. The lithe male sat elegantly, with posture straight and tail curled around his flank. Even if he was still a bit tired from eating so much, he wouldn't let his guard down around the stranger. |
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Post by kaz on Feb 20, 2021 4:21:45 GMT
The gentleman stood - he was larger than Murmur, but the same could be said for many the poet had met on his adventures, him being on the smaller side of wolves - and said a greeting in return, though no emotion was detectable in his smooth voice. There was the glimmer of something unfriendly in those crimson eyes of his; untrusting or vengeful or perhaps unemotional entirely, Murmur could not tell. The smaller wolf kept his distance, but held his tail somewhat low behind him, waving lazily in an amiable fashion.
With his next words, however, Murmur could see that he had perhaps made a faux-pas, and presumed too much, too early. “A date?” came the response from the male, his brow furrowed, expression puzzled in what seemed to be genuine confusion. Was he unaware of the meaning or had Murmur’s soft attempt at humor failed so utterly? After a moment, the man said: “Not a date,” and Murmur smiled - less excitedly - and gave a soft nod of his head.
“Not a date then,” he said.
“Alright,” said the male. His voice was deep and wholly uninviting, but Murmur had to admit that this was the type that interested him the most. There was something quite gratifying about prying open the iciest of wolves. It was a challenge. “Don’t eat the heart, or I’ll rip out yours.” The words came out quite serious, and Murmur had no doubts as to the truth of them. He certainly wouldn’t test his luck.
Still, he couldn’t resist the goofy grin that was more often present than not. Something about this man amused him so. “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” said Murmur, unable to help himself. He drew his gaze away from the stranger, not wanting to linger on his peculiar coat and eye color for too long lest he come off as rude or ungrateful. The man took a few paw steps away from his kill, still regarding Murmur with a look of regal indifference. A king regarding his people. Murmur moved toward the carcass, sniffing at it, but he was more interested in the man before him. Now began the game he was quite accustomed to playing.
“What are you called?” asked the stranger. Murmur sat beside their meal, not biting into it quite yet though he was rather hungry, but he didn’t want to appear overly eager and he craved something more than meat now. He eyed the other passively, the small smile still upon his lips. “Murmur,” he replied. He leaned down now to tear a small piece of flesh from the body where it had already been torn open and exposed and he swallowed it almost without chewing. “And yourself?”
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Post by Jay on Apr 5, 2021 1:21:21 GMT
[googlefont=Montserrat:600] ✩ arsa ✩ Winter brought immeasurable calmness to Arsa, who walked quietly along the snowy plains so as to not disturb its slumber. The occasional snowflake fluttered around him, untouched by the stagnant atmosphere. He breathed in through his nose, not bothered by the bitter coldness, and breathed out, watching his breath dance and fade in the air. Winter had such an alluring, dreamlike peacefulness to it, and it had Arsa wanting nothing more than to just wander through its endless white void. He was built for the cold and the hardships it brought, and he felt privileged. The plains all around him were barren and blanketed in white, and the distant trees swayed to the gentle melody of the breeze. Arsa's mind was blank, untroubled by the familiar uneasy feelings that often plagued him. He was no longer alone, at last having a companion he could truly rely on and who he knew was not very far away. He looked up toward the white horizon, thinking back to their first encounter in a place very similar, where the snow fell in clusters and darkness reigned. The memory brought a slight feeling of nostalgia, then gratitude. Arsa breathed in again, greeted by the gentle whiff of his companion off in the distance, accompanied by a second smell, then a third. One smelled of venison, and the other he did not know. He worried for his friend, and even more so for whoever had approached him. He gave the younger man space when he needed to but couldn't help the feeling of curiosity, or responsibility, that overcame him, prompting him to turn and follow the scents. He was alert but calm, his pace no faster than a jog, not wanting to startle anyone or impose needlessly on their conversation. Arsa's long stride carried him quickly along, and it only took him a mere few minutes to locate his targets. There was no mistaking it, Revan's striking fur against the blank horizon, paired with the relatively smaller brownish figure a few meters away. At their feet lay the origin of the venison smell, but Arsa's belly or attention wasn't focused on that. A small smile graced his features, pleased to see a new face in the area — even more so to see them and Revan conversing. A part of him wanted to keep his distance to let them talk, but he felt equally inclined to welcome the stranger. He approached calmly, his pale ochre eyes flitting between the two. Once he closed some distance, he bowed his head apologetically but didn't say anything, already having heard them talking and not wanting to rudely interrupt or speak when not spoken to. The stranger had a certain amiable quality to him that drew in Arsa's attention, and he nodded his head in acknowledgment, his small smile still ever-present. |
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heathen child #1 :)
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Post by Burn on Apr 16, 2021 2:47:51 GMT
R E V A N
The eyes of ruby red watched warily, lazily, while the male of brown and grey moved towards his kill, confirming that this little meeting was not this presumed 'date.' Revan wasn't sure what sort of attempt that was, but it certainly wasn't one he was interested in. Despite his ever-present confusion over that, he felt oddly indifferent, rather than annoyed. He was more lax than usual - slightly, anyway - and didn't even seem as uncomfortable as he typically would be. For a moment he wondered why he felt this way in the presence of a stranger; perhaps it was just the lethargy inflicted from eating far too much, or the demeanor of this male, he wasn't sure. Oh well, Revan thought, at least this doe wouldn't go to waste if he decided to leave. As he steadily watched the man eat, he concluded to himself that even feeding another wasn't too wasteful.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” The fellow had responded to Revan's previous threat. The copper and black male scoffed dryly, rolling his eyes away from the genial man. It was then, as his gaze fell to rest on the endless horizon, that he noticed an approaching figure, their creamy fur nearly blending with the snow. Revan squinted a bit, before the tiniest of a smile pulled at the corner of his lips. There was no mistaking that hefty yet graceful build, or that incredible lush fur. The commonly cantankerous loner was genuinely pleased to see his old companion making his way towards them. It seemed like his luck was indeed holding out, he thought.
Revan watched Arsa jog towards them for a moment, but forced himself to drag his eyes away as the smaller brown male spoke again. "Murmur," Said he, before taking out a chunk of the elk. Revan hummed in acknowledgement, sounding rather disinterested. It was a unique name he had never heard before, and thus, he assumed he would forget it within mere minutes. The male, Murmur, then inquired his name. Revan gazed at him steadily, contemplating. He really had no reason to withhold his identity from this stranger, and though he did not feel inclined to reveal it, he obliged. "Revan," He practically sighed it out. His lids were heavy, so he put his attention back to the approaching wolf. Arsa was now before them, looking polite and calm as ever. Revan had to admit to himself, he was thankful for that ever tranquil feeling the large man seemed to have; it always seemed to be contagious.
Revan stood smoothly as his companion joined them. With a slight smile that lasted only a moment, he moved towards Arsa laxly. The spiky male pressed his pointed black muzzle into that soft, tawny fur in greeting - actually quite glad that his travelling partner had shown up to the situation. However, he had done the action a bit roughly, and as he placed himself near the man's side he twitched his nose from the aggressive booping. That was something his deceased mate had taught him. He smiled faintly as he recalled how she always said he was too aggressive with it, some things never changed, he thought.
His expression dropped to a scowl. One thing had changed, though, and it was that she was gone forever now, and now he was performing an action they had shared with Arsa. Was that wrong, he wondered? Ah, he was letting himself brood too much now, something best saved for later. At least he had the two fellows to distract himself with.
"I will thwart him off if you wish to eat," Revan broke from his silence, red gaze looking over to his friend calmly. He was the kind to put his allies closer, even if the other male had gotten here first, he gave Arsa every right to take his fill if he so wanted. Of course, Revan doubted he would take the offer; even if he was starving, Arsa seemed the sort to put others before himself. Revan observed that they were a bit different in that case, but it wasn't something he disliked - in fact, he found that quite admirable, really. Revan also observed that he was being quite thoughtful in his odd state of daze, and that he did dislike.
He ended up watching the two calmly, remaining silent and allowing them to introduce themselves as they wanted. Revan wasn't one to expose someone's identity without their permission, and so he didn't bother introducing the wolf he obviously knew to this newcomer, as rude as that probably was. Instead, he let his thoughts wander, and his crimson gaze fall onto the white horizon. Hopefully, neither would question him on his seemingly distracted state. Jay kaz |
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Post by kaz on Jun 20, 2021 9:32:48 GMT
The stranger was not taken with Murmur’s advances which only made Murmur all the more entranced with him. He quite liked a challenge, especially those of this wolf’s ilk; introverted, almost hostile. A character flaw of his, perhaps, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. Revan he had said his name was, after an unamused snort at Murmur’s lighthearted jest. Murmur tested the name silently in his head to ensure he’d remember.
Still, this Revan didn’t seem too interested in him, staring off into the distance with an emotion Murmur could not distinguish. Murmur turned to look and saw the approaching figure that had so enraptured the other. The stranger entered their midst, carrying with him an aura of friendliness much opposed to the red-pelted wolf Murmur had just gotten acquainted with. He gave a nod to Murmur, which Murmur returned with a smile. Meal forgotten, he watched as Revan greeted this wolf with some amiable familiarity; they had known each other for some time, he deduced. The only question was how?
“I will thwart him off if you wish to eat,” said Revan in a grave tone.
Murmur couldn’t help but chuckle. “Thwart away if need be. I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome.” It was true, but he hoped his politeness would allow him to stay and see how these two had become such close friends. He looked at the newcomer. “My name is Murmur.” A courteous dip of his head. “A pleasure. Your friend here has so kindly allowed me to join in his meal with him, though not without some reservation, I think.” A playful smile danced on his lips.
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Post by Jay on Jun 23, 2021 5:29:34 GMT
[googlefont=Montserrat:600] ✩ arsa ✩ With gentle eyes, Arsa glanced between the two men before him. Without any words spoken, Revan stood and approached his side before he pressed his nose against Arsa’s lush fur. The gesture was simple but instantly brought a smile to his lips. It both amazed and inspired him how vastly different Revan had become since their first meeting, becoming far warmer than the icy exterior that still encapsulated him. Never did Arsa underestimate his capacity to exhibit affection, and such moments were those he valued. Eventually, the man’s familiar voice reached his ears, reassuring Arsa of a stranger-free meal should he want one. He chortled, fully amused and having expected nothing less from his sincere friend. Arsa had not forgotten about the other man who had also found amusement in Revan’s threat. His gaze flitted to meet his amiable, scotch-colored eyes as he concurred to the threat, adding that he wanted not to overstay his welcome. Arsa’s features dropped, his brow instinctively rising in opposition but he kept quiet and listened. Murmur, he said his name was, and Arsa’s eyes brightened with curiosity, his head tilted ever so slightly, quickly becoming fond of the unique name. Murmur had a contagious sense of humor as he jested, prompting Arsa to chuckle. “I’m pleased to hear,” he replied lightheartedly, glancing at Revan with a benign smile. He focused on Murmur again, his spirits raised. “My name is Arsa.” He returned the man’s courteous head dip. “And you are welcome to stay for however long you wish.”His ochre eyes fell to the doe’s corpse. Hunger had not yet peaked, which he was grateful for. “Please, if you’re still hungry, eat.” Arsa glanced encouragingly between the two, not wanting for either of them to be distracted by his being here. |
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heathen child #1 :)
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Post by Burn on Jul 7, 2021 19:41:15 GMT
REVAN His pointed black ears flicked placidly as the two men spoke amongst themselves, exchanging introductions and light-hearted jests. Revan was, to say the least, a bit relieved to have Arsa here with him. Not only did he act as an emotional support wolf, but he also distracted the new fellow so as Revan wouldn't have to speak too much, or even interact at all, he hoped. He wouldn't just up and leave now, with his companion here, but that didn't mean he was going to involve himself in something like friendly chit chat.
His red gaze slipped to observe the two earthy pelted wolves. He found himself wondering how they could be so friendly towards each other, so welcoming, had they no sense of distrust? Of course, he wouldn't exactly blame them for it, it just made him curious, in a way. Here, this average male approached a dark wolf like himself, and when a practical bear (a soft, fluffy bear, he noted) joins them, the smaller fellow doesn't even hesitate? To be fair, Revan hadn't felt that worried about Arsa upon their first meeting, either, there was truly something about him that was just so alluring, and he never doubted that the larger male would still possess that quality now. Revan concluded that, in its own sad truth, it was just him that most wolves seemed to fear. Could he blame them?
It was then that Arsa's glance towards him brought the sulking male from his thoughts, making him blink dazedly. He realized they were discussing the matter of him letting the stranger eat with him. Revan turned his gaze away with a huff, playing as if such kindness was truly devastating to him. He knew it wasn't; right now the company was welcome, for he knew that any second alone and bored would lead him to brood thoughts he just didn't want to deal with, especially -- he fought back a yawn -- in his groggy state.
“Please, if you’re still hungry, eat.” With airplane ears Revan gave his friend a look of tired distaste. He suspected nothing less from Arsa, who always seemed so compassionate to even the randommest of strangers, Revan wasn't sure how he managed it, but...it was admirable, he knew. As Arsa glanced between him and the other male expectantly, Revan furrowed his brow, as if to say 'no' to continuing any conversation. This went on for a moment, but eventually the spiky wolf caved, not without a dramatic sigh.
"Are you from a pack, Mimic?" He asked, having forgotten the fellow's name already. He eyed the wolf, trying to judge an answer. With such an out-going attitude he wouldn't doubt that any pack wouldn't want him in their ranks, but then again, what would he be doing all the way out here in this desert of snow? Revan didn't know, but he found himself curious. |
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Post by kaz on Oct 21, 2021 9:00:51 GMT
There was an interesting dichotomy between the two men which was plain to see in the way they carried themselves and spoke. The curiously pelted Revan, for instance, had smiled ever so briefly upon seeing his companion but had sought to stifle it, or so it seemed to Murmur, lest he appear… what, happy? Murmur couldn’t assume based on the short time he’d spent so far with the brute but that seemed to be the easy conclusion. Or else, perhaps, warm? He’d given off a cold enough demeanor thus far, perhaps that was how he preferred to be viewed: cold, aloof, unforgiving. Like winter in the mountains. Make no mistake lest you want to wind up dead. Murmur certainly felt he could make no misstep in Revan’s presence.
And then there was the new wolf, Arsa, as he’d so warmly introduced himself. Much in contrast to his accompaniment. Arsa’s ears had twisted over toward Murmur, his eyes glinting in his direction; friendly, familiar. He was a large man but he carried himself not as someone of strength but of someone who had only more body with which to carry affection, sympathy. He and the man seemed to share that trait in common, though Murmur was much lesser in mass to be sure; a fact that he had not forgotten in the face of two large, strange wolves in a stranger still land. “And you are welcome for however long you wish,” said Arsa, with a dip of his head. It was as if he was hearing the same language for the first time since Murmur had entered this country, so comfortable did he feel. Arsa even offered for him to eat more if he so wished; he would have acquiesced were it not for Revan, standing there with that inscrutable expression upon his face, perhaps judging him or sizing him up — Murmur could not tell. Either way, he felt that to eat further would be to face some sort of judgement from the red and black wolf; good or bad, he could not tell. Safer not to do so at all.
As if on cue, when Arsa had offered up the food to Murmur, Revan turned away with something of a scoff. Murmur could not decipher the meaning of it, but was glad he had not greedily wolfed down the meat before it had occurred. And something passed between the two wolves, some expression. It was indistinguishable to Murmur the difference between Revan’s typical indignance and this expression but he felt there must be some meaning to it. Whatever it was, Revan didn’t seem to approve of the kindness Arsa was offering. What a starch contrast between the two! A part of Murmur wanted to slink away, to realize that he was meddling in some business he ought not to. The other, slightly more powerful part, was desperate and unashamed to try and see what lay beneath this dynamic. Murmur himself was often drawn to types like Revan: the removed, angry, unemotional, or else altogether too emotional. That type was alluring and fascinating to him. But to see this relationship in action was fascinating to say the least.
“I thank you for your kindness,” he said, dipping his head in response to Arsa. The words were only partially out of spite toward the equally unwilling Revan, though Murmur held no ill-will toward the wolf. It was all only a game, after all. “One must rely on the kindness of strangers to make it through such harsh winters as these.” Even still he made no move toward the kill at his paws.
“Are you from a pack, Mimic?” asked Revan without much curiosity in his voice. Murmur had to stifle a laugh in response. Had he been so uninterested as to forget his name, or was he making a show of his carelessness on purpose, to show that he was so definitively indifferent to Murmur’s presence? Either way, it quite amused the small wolf. He managed to keep only a grin upon his lips, not allowing the laughter to spill out of him.
“I am not, though I wouldn't be opposed to the idea,” said Murmur, glancing between Revan and Arsa. “And, are you, Revenant?” Though he knew the male’s name, he couldn’t help but jest. Mischief glinted in his eyes as he spoke, glancing between Revan and Arsa with that smile still upon his face.
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Post by Jay on Oct 22, 2021 3:01:10 GMT
[googlefont=Montserrat:600] ✩ arsa ✩ Arsa stared at Revan upon hearing his disgruntled huff toward his extended kindness toward Murmur. A spark of interest and playfulness lit up his dull eyes at the reaction. He bumped shoulders with the sulking man in a gentle, leisurely, ever so slightly exaggerated manner before lowering onto his haunches, relishing the faint coldness he felt against his mass of fur. The following soft crunch made his ears twitch in satisfaction. He had caught his ruby eyes in his peripheral vision, one that disproved continuous conversation. Arsa exhaled heavily at Revan’s behavior, but it was not one that implied disappointment or irritation; instead, blatant amusement. Murmur seemed to be enjoying himself as he caught his entertained gaze, which encouraged Arsa to relax his muscles. Murmur thanked Arsa for his kindness, dipping his head just as he did prior. Arsa smiled gently at the smaller man. “One must rely on the kindness of strangers to make it through such harsh winters as these.” His words, while true, gave the medic pause. Not a whiff of companionship lingered on the stranger, suggesting he was, indeed, alone. Arsa hummed in accordance, his eyes locking on Murmur’s. “You speak the truth,” he relayed, an edge of curiosity to his tone. “Murmur.” He tested his name on his tongue. He had a subtle feeling the man was one his own. Despite having been met with Revan’s coldness, Murmur stayed to humor him; there was not a shadow of doubt in Arsa’s mind that he did not have company to fall back on. Perhaps his decision to stay hinted at a yearning for companionship. Arsa felt more than willing to gratify. “Are you from a pack, Mimic?” A sideways smile graced Arsa’s lips upon Revan’s question. “Typical,” he thought fondly as he turned his head toward his friend. Murmur replied without skipping a beat. Arsa nodded lightly to indicate he was still paying attention. “And, are you, Revenant?” The quip caught the old male off guard as he quickly, instinctively turned his head away from Revan, a cheeky smile creeping its way onto his snout. He strived to repress the subtle joy bubbling in his chest, but alas, despite his best efforts, a warm, restrained giggle trickled from his mouth. |
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Post by Burn on Oct 27, 2021 18:08:49 GMT
R E V A N “I thank you for your kindness," Murmur was saying, "One must rely on the kindness of strangers to make it through such harsh winters as these.” Revan stared with scrutiny, dumbfounded by this philosophy. Very few had ever offered him kindness in trying times, and yet he had scraped through each winter relying only on his wits alone. "How callow," said the arrogant hypocrite, not bothering to look back on all the times that he had help through the winter; from his sister way back when he had just lost his memory, his deceased partner, all the way up to the pack that he and Arsa had left together. Even now, here he was with Arsa, surviving through the winter together. It wasn't that he was too prideful to admit it, or trying to make himself look good in front of this Murmur - even though, he wouldn't miss an opportunity to flaunt his 'keen' survival skills - no, he simply lived in his own world where nobody cared for him, and where he didn't need anyone's care, no matter how much he wanted it deep down.
The ill-tempered man brought his attention back to the littler one, now responding to his less-than enthusiastic question. “I am not, though I wouldn't be opposed to the idea,” Of course he wasn't, thought Revan. He blinked with a slow nod. Where he had once been curious, he now lost all interest in this fellows origins, he could already guess- a young male set out to find his place in a new pack, looking for a place to call home. He was a traveler, and couldn't count how many loners he'd met with that same story. Usually he could chase them off with a snarl, at least, and wondered if Arsa would tolerate him doing that now. The thought of the soft male scolding him afterwards brought him mild amuseme--
“And, are you, Revenant?” Revenant? What? Revan was taken aback, staring blankly as he was unsure of how to comprehend this. Did this male have a terrible memory as well? Or...had Revan gotten his name wrong first? Was he condescending him? The twinkle of humor in those whiskey eyes was evident, making his own eyes of ruby red narrow, ears flicking back. How dare this little man mock him? It wasn't his fault he couldn't remember the simplest things from five minutes ago, if he didn't have that demeaning amn-- amnesty? No...fuck! He couldn't even remember what the burden was. How he hated himself right now.
With his maelstrom of irritation, embarrassment, and feeling of wanting to burrow into the snow and never come out to see the light of day again- Revan glanced to his companion, Arsa, hoping to find some back-up against this razzing stranger. Arsa, however, was turned away from him...snickering?! Revan gazed at him with raised brows and pointed black ears pinned against his spiky red mane. How could Arsa find this amusing, alongside this random wolf, utterly against his own friend?! Was his poor memory truly that laughable...? Revan glanced to the snow melting between his paws, considering. Perhaps he was a joke, and this was nothing but common nature for other's, just another thing he didn't understand with his certain lack of social skills. He glanced to Arsa again. Really, he knew the older male didn't mean this as betrayal, perhaps Revan was just being over-dramatic, having gotten a taste of his own medicine for the first time. But still... 'Whatever,' he thought angrily, 'like I thought beforehand, I don't need anyone.' The humorless wolf gathered himself, sitting straight, with ears still back and his red-tipped tail tucked closely around his haunches. He glared straight to Murmur - although glowering, perhaps a bit childish looking in his pout.
"Don't antagonize me." He warned with a grave tone, sounding much more threatening than he currently felt.
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Post by kaz on Jan 1, 2022 0:36:18 GMT
While Arsa had responded well enough to Murmur’s platitudes, Revan did not appear to share his friend’s opinion. Unsurprising. The red-maned wolf seemed to have a darker outlook on life than his bearish companion. “How callow,” said the man, barely seeming interested in the conversation at all, merely offering up his opposing opinion on the matter and letting it hang there, uncaring as to whether it reached its intended audience or not entirely. Murmur found this amusing (truly, it irked him but he had in time come to find irritation amusing in its own way.) Especially since this wolf seemed to think he knew just so much about life and how it ought and ought not to be lived.
“Naive, perhaps,” said Murmur, feigning contemplation. He didn’t think it naive in the slightest. He had made it this far with his way of doing things and seemed much happier for it than the wolf before him. “But better than a life of loneliness and hunger.” After all, hadn’t Revan perfectly played into Murmur’s earlier words by offering up his meal, and some conversation? The poet became aware after speaking of his hunger but made no move toward the kill between them even though its sweet and appetizing scent filled his nostrils and made his mouth water. “Isn’t this so much more enjoyable than eating alone?” This he said with a cheeky, knowing smile. He was sure Revan was regretting his decision more and more each moment.
And even more so at Murmur’s jape it would seem. A switch flipped inside Revan, and his friend’s laughter seemed to only intensify whatever storm was brewing within the man. Confusion and anger flashed across his face in turn and settled into something between petulance and indignance. Murmur couldn’t help but feel a tickle at this childlike reaction he’d received though he tried to mask it. Especially when he felt the heat of Revan’s glare boring into him, threatening to burn right through him. “Don’t antagonize me.” The words were ripe with warning. Murmur knew better than to question whether he’d make good on his threat.
“Forgive me,” said Murmur as sincerely as he could, glancing downward in what he hoped would appear to be embarrassment. “A mere jest, is all. I did not wish to offend.” He couldn’t be sure what in his words had been such an affront to have caused the reaction it did, but he didn’t dare push further, backpedaling now into what he hoped was safer territory. “May I be so bold as to inquire about the purpose of your travels in this weather? I suppose you two aren’t affiliated with any pack, being so far from their territories,” said Murmur after waiting a moment to let the dust settle. “Nomads like myself, perhaps?”
murmur's just like uhhh so crazy weather huh? ??
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Post by Jay on Jan 5, 2022 1:55:36 GMT
[googlefont=Montserrat:600] ✩ arsa ✩ “How callow,” said Revan in response to Murmur’s gratitude. With a slightly raised wrist Arsa tapped his companion’s leg in a gentle, quiet, maybe even somewhat playful reprimand at how insensitive he was being. Though, his instincts told him Murmur wouldn’t find his companion’s callous behavior to be insulting. His watchful ochre eyes studied him for a moment to gauge his reaction, and nothing out of expectation surfaced. He felt the small anchor of worry lift from within his chest as he took Revan’s brusquerie in stride. But the insinuation of his comment lingered in Arsa’s mind for longer than he willed it. It gave him pause at how quickly he seemed to have forgotten his own situation with Arsa, and though he mentally urged himself not to give credence to Revan’s words, a shadow of doubt loomed ever closer. Murmur countered without skipping a beat, and again, what he was saying held true to Arsa’s own beliefs. To have others to rely on, in the midst of hardships or not, was imperative, not just for survival but for an individual’s spirit. To rely on others did not mean to admit one’s incompetence or incapacities, or give in to them. Upon the mention of eating, his eyes fell to the carcass. He had no clue how long it had laid there or who had taken it down, but it was on neutral ground — it was free game. Arsa had not yet seen Murmur act upon his earlier invite to feast, and he was curious as to if the man’s refrainment was a result of already being sated, or something else. He felt pressured to encourage him to eat regardless of his circumstances; take back a chunk with him so that he may indulge away from prying eyes sometime later if he so wished. Having shared in Murmur’s mirth, Arsa regained his composure. He turned to look at Revan, but his demeanor immediately, perhaps instinctively, changed upon noticing the sour, hardened shift in his companion’s aura. He became enveloped in it, and suddenly that heavy anchor sunk deeper. Oh no. Had his and Murmur’s banter plucked the wrong hairs? He inhaled, the cold air catching in his throat. It felt as though it could cut skin. “Don’t antagonize me.” Arsa’s ears lowered by a few degrees as his face softened. He was prepared to lavish the man with apologies but then a curious thought struck him. Did Revan… know what revenant meant? It was a gamble, telling him, for it would only serve to either further miff him or clear up any potential confusion. Maybe he was simply offended that the newcomer addressed him differently. But then again, Arsa had become accustomed to the way his companion often applied double-meanings to the smallest actions or gestures, conjuring up presumptions and extracting often the opposite of what was intended. Although, it is not as though the old man was any better at such things. He tapped Revan’s wrist again, the action far lighter than before; a mere ghost of a touch, as he leaned in slightly as if to share a highly confidential secret, a soft smile on his gentle countenance. “I believe Revenant is a fitting nickname for someone so driven,” he said above a whisper with nothing but sincerity in his voice. “To be a revenant is to be reawakened; to come back from the dead to exact revenge on your wrongdoers.” There was an undeniable playful edge to his tone, but it implied sobriety — that he was not and had never intended to scorn him. Murmur apologized which eased the old man’s nerves. He knew he did not mean his jest out of spite, but it sat well with him that the newcomer felt compelled to apologize regardless. He went on to inquire about their travels, as if to change the subject. It came as a slight relief to Arsa. He nodded in agreement, “Yes, though I am certain that we may fare well on our own, knowing your companion is close by always eases a troubled mind.” he inputted truthfully, his signature soft smile returning to his muzzle as his eyes moved to give his sulky friend a fond look. After a moment, he spoke again, addressing Murmur. “But I do hope you have been faring well.”Burn kaz |
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Post by Burn on Jan 24, 2022 3:54:38 GMT
R E V A N
“Isn’t this so much more enjoyable than eating alone?” Murmur inquired after going on about friendship and loyalty, or something of the sort, he hadn't been paying attention enough for the speech to stick in his memory. "Not particularly..." Revan muttered, more of a thought than a true response. He took in the fellow's implicative smile and pondered. In a way, Revan thought, it was slightly more tolerable than being left alone with his own self-destructive mind, although he wasn't exactly entertained by the hearty male's attempts at joking. A light tap on his wrist reminded him that Arsa likely shared the man's point of view, so as not to offend his dear friend, Revan let it go.
Another tap, this time the slightest graze of fur. His intense red eyes lingered on Murmur even as Arsa leaned in next to him, but a pointed ear twitched to catch those gentle words. “I believe Revenant is a fitting nickname for someone so driven," The calming voice said, “To be a revenant is to be reawakened; to come back from the dead to exact revenge on your wrongdoers.” Finally Revan dropped his gaze to the side, looking thoughtful. That sounded...interesting; not at all wrong to his predicament. After all, was he not in a way reawakened after losing his memory? He knew one thing was for certain - revenge did sound quite tantalizing. But Arsa had "betrayed" him, finding such disrespect amusing... He wouldn't give either of them the satisfaction of being flattered. "Hmph. That means nothing." He said with a stubborn huff.
The brown male apologized and explained himself, though, typically, Revan did not accept. His lip twitched just enough to show the tip of his canine, as if to say 'whatever.' Murmur then asked about their journey, “May I be so bold as to inquire about the purpose of your travels in this weather? I suppose you two aren’t affiliated with any pack, being so far from their territories,” Crimson eyes pointedly glanced down to the carcass between them, before rising to meet the other male's gaze once again. "Hunting." He replied curtly. He seemed to imply that the wolf needed help noting the obvious. He was still peeved, but as Arsa responded to the fellow's next question, Revan couldn't help but soften his features as he turned to catch those warm, ochre eyes. “Yes, though I am certain that we may fare well on our own, knowing your companion is close by always eases a troubled mind.” ....damnit. How could he hold a grudge against this sweet man? The man who had been helping him stay afloat this entire winter, and more than likely, who had kept him going throughout the entire year, even? Revan knew when his stubbornness was beaten.
"That I can agree with." His eyes gazed straight into the larger males, with ears pricked forward. He shifted his weight towards Arsa, and although there was a gap of space between them, he leaned slightly. He didn't use many words, but with his body, he said 'I trust you,' and hoped that was enough.
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