from the woods > a medieval werewolf role play > closed

[scarlet_benoit]

𝒜𝓋𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓃 𝒮𝓂𝒾𝓉𝒽
female| 33| human| master of horse

Avalon smiled at her friend and jokingly scolded her with, "What, not even a hello before you ask me for a favor?"

Going to the market did sound like a welcome escape from her frustrations, though. Riding the courser she was saddling up would likely do the same for her, but then again it might provide her with too much time alone with her thoughts. She might just end up muttering to herself about injustice and imagining a chance at reliving her past arguments with better rebuttals, and come back even more frustrated than she already was. Plus, it had been several days since she had seen her friend, and the opportunity to be social sounded nice at the moment. She needed a replacement for a shoe one of the geldings had lost anyway, and a trip to the blacksmith would be an excellent excuse to leave for the day.

She waved one of the older boys who she had grown to trust over to her. "Timothy, I'm leaving for the market for a few hours. I'm putting you in charge until I get back, but you need to keep the others focused. There's plenty to do, so don't go goofing off all day, alright? And make sure one of the others takes this one out for a ride," she said, patting the courser as she finished. He nodded in recognition of what she said and ran off, proclaiming loudly to the others that he was in charge for the day. Ava rolled her eyes at this, but turned back to Moriah with a broad smile.

"Well, then? Let's go. We'll take Rose, but you're helping saddle her up and brush her down when we get back."

mentions: Moriah O'Malley, Svala Holt| tags: Moriah O'Malley| location: castle stables

[Meekins12345]

❀ 𝓜𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓪𝓱 𝓚𝓪𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓭𝔂 𝓞'𝓜𝓪𝓵𝓵𝓮𝔂 ❀
female|human|domestic servant

Moriah, upon hearing Avalon's question, just playfully rolled her eyes, soon just huffing before offering a quick 'hello'.

She waited and watched as her friend seemed to think a while. She knew that such a request came with its pros and cons, and with Avalon working with her job, she had to probably figure out whether it would be good for her to leave. Being the master of horse, she'd have to leave someone in charge while she was gone.

Once she saw Avalon call for somebody named Timothy, though, the maid couldn't help but perk, a large grin soon appearing on her face, a chuckle escaping her shortly after she heard Timothy announce to the entire stables that he was in charge. She looked back to Avalon and mirrored the smile that the master had on her own face.

Moriah quickly nodded upon her comment. "Of course! I'll just have to get the goods to the bakers and chefs before-hand, but after that I'll be comin' right back to brush her off... But for now, let's go!" Although she paused a moment, soon looking around. "...Where's Rose's stall, again?"

[Mentions: Avalon Smith][Tags: Avalon Smith][Location: Royal stables]

[Crono]

𝓑𝓮𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓽 𝓕𝓮𝓷𝓷
Male ~ Thirty-Two ~ Human ~ Prince of Fordaemdur/Heir Apparent ~ Profile
Location: Streets of Fordaemdur ~ (Tags: Ronan) (Mentions: )

Ronan's words hit in a similar fashion as the usually did. Sometimes speaking with his brother had a rather unpleasant sobering effect. Almost as if Ronan made it his mission to try and drain any joy or pleasure one could have had or be having, of this Bennet was certain. The man rolled his eyes, then rubbed at his face briefly with one hand, already growing weary of this conversation before it even began. But the man still threw out his attempt at a smile, "I just went out for a drink, and of course there were fools who wanted to turn it into a competition. And you know me, drinking one idiot after the other under the table is not something I can simply pass up. So, one drink turned into ten...or twenty, though if I'm honest I can't really remember much beyond the sixteenth." He'd tilted his head in thought as if trying to recall. All a lie of course, this actually happened the week before. But the tale of from the night before had nothing to it and wouldn't have made for even an attempt to annoy his brother. Two could play at this game.

Still, Bennet was starting gain a bit more focus back. Enough to notice that Ronan looked even more ragged than he had the last time. "You really needn't try to be my keeper brother. Our beloved parents weren't capable and I highly doubt you'll fare any better." A light smirk crossing his face, "Feel free to join me next time, might help you get some of that sleep you look like you so desperately need as of late."

[multicurious]

SERSHA EATHE
─────────────────────────────── ──────────────────────────────
[ title. werewolf lesser heir ] [ tagged. arlo eathe | mentioned: n/a ] [ location. the forest ]


─────“Tch. No, the army isn’t overworking me.” Sersha replied briskly, not overly convinced that it would soothe her older brother’s concerns. While she appreciated his looking out for her, Arlo’s brand of worry sometimes made her feel like she was talking to a parent rather than a sibling. But only sometimes. “I’ve just been restless the past few nights. I can’t explain why.” She averted her gaze, stroking Aska’s feathers as the raven pressed her head against Sersha’s jawline. When she looked back up at Arlo, however, the slightest of smirks graced her features.

─────“And what about you, brother? You’re not looking so awake yourself.” Arlo could pretend to be more put together than he really was all he wanted, but Sersha was more perceptive than that. His appearance mirrored hers in more ways than one. Dark circles under his eyes, a subtle, tired tone in his voice much like hers that spoke to their similar predicament. “Must be something going around.”

[zhelaniye]

TARNER EATHE!! "i kept my mind on the moon..."
[36 years] [werewolf] [male] [alpha of the pack of fordaemdur] [no romantic involvement] ═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════

tarner didn't stop his forward momentum, but he did slow down somewhat as he drew nearer to ramses on the road. he wanted to be, or at least appear, courteous, but he did not want to delay the relief of his shift any more than he had already, so he had no intentions of making his conversation with the falconer an unnecessarily a long one, and the best way that he could think to achieve that intention was to keep moving in the direction he wanted to go. he still had a ways to go yet though, so there was plenty of time for those characteristically human pleasantries that the people of fordaemdur—and surrounding areas too, it seemed—loved so much.

"there's always good business in fordaemdur, if you know where to look," he said, still brandishing his signature, assured grin. "that's why i have no desire to stray too far from the city, and likely why you haven't seen me in some time," he added, tactfully decreasing the volume of his voice with each step, as the distance between he and ramses got smaller and smaller.

he stepped to the side and just off of the road when ramses and his animal companions were a few meters ahead of him, but he continued resolutely with his approach, although now in a slightly less direct manner. he tread carefully through the underbrush and weeds that crept ever closer to the reclamation of the space that was once theirs, but now belonged to fordaemdur and its many comers and goers. tarner was comfortable around around horses himself, but he found that they weren't always comfortable around him. he didn't quite know for certain why this was, but he guessed it has something to do with his wolf's blood or his snake's character. and as for ramses' birds, tarner really didn't have enough experience with such creatures to know how they would react to him, but in any case, he figured it was better to be safe than kicked to death, pecked to death, or both.

"i have been well though, ramses," he responded after a brief pause. "i trust you've been the same?" he asked, his expression sobering and brow furrowing a bit with the question.

[mentions: ramses] [tags: ramses] [location: entry/exit point to the walls of fordaemdur]

[zhelaniye]

RONAN FENN!! "history repeats itself..."
[35 years] [human] [male] [king of fordaemdur] [no romantic involvement] ═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════

unbeknownst to him, bennet had just summarized ronan's existence perfectly in his head before he found another way to phrase it verbally, albeit in the midst of a sentence in which he assured ronan of what he was not. ronan knew himself to be the syphon of joy and pleasure that his brother thought he was, but contrary to bennet's words, he also knew himself to be his brther's keeper. although he would likely still be miserable without having a brother like bennet to worry about, ronan felt that the two descriptors went hand in hand quite effortlessly. with so much responsibility weighing so heavily on his shoulders, how could he be anything but a drain?

ronan shook his head, just as weary of the conversation as bennet was. however, he interpreted the self-satisfied expression on bennet's face in conjunction with the ache in his own head and heart to mean that he was far more aggrieved to be having it, again and so soon after they'd had it the previous time in the weeks since their father's death. "you may think that i'm not your keeper, but i am confident that you know that i'm not your drinking buddy either, bennet," he said, a small amount of agitation seeping through the fatigue that was evident in his tone.

"even if i was, drinking wouldn't help me sleep," he added, flexing the muscles of his jaw and looking away from his brother briefly. the two behaviors, unusual for him in a relaxed state, confessed to his discomfort without requiring him to actually open his mouth. truth be told, ronan didn't think that there was anything that could help him sleep, no matter how badly he needed to do so, and he didn't imagine that turning to the drink would turn out well for him or his people. there was simply too much else to keep him occupied, in both his waking hours and those in which he was supposed to be asleep, and only one of those things was his dear younger brother.

his gaze returned to the brother in question before he spoke again. "look, i can't make you listen to me. i can't make you respect or care about me or our family and its legacy, but the least you could do is pretend. this is our ancestral home and these people are our people. we owe it to them to at least give them an illusion of competence and unity," he said, his words dancing beautiful circles around what he perceived to be the much uglier truth of his thoughts: i can't do this alone and you are the only other person that could possibly understand the realities of this. the grief of losing our father, the burden of his crown, the breath caught in everyone's throats as they watch and wait for you to fail. i need you and i want you to need me too.

his breath hitched a bit as he released it in a soft sigh, partly due to nerves and partly due to the desperate sense of despair that had been looming and ever growing over him since the death of the former king. "do you think you could do that? pretend for the peoples' sake?" he asked finally, imploring without wanting or meaning to be, but the tight grip of his mental and physical exhaustion wouldn't allow him to be anything else.

[mentions: bennet fenn] [tags: bennet fenn] [location: streets of fordaemdur]

[scarlet_benoit]

𝒜𝓋𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓃 𝒮𝓂𝒾𝓉𝒽
female| 33| human| master of horse

Avalon couldn't help but laugh at her friend's question. "Moriah, would you forget where your head is if it wasn't attached to your neck?" She gave her a good-natured tap on the nose though, just to show that she was teasing and meant no harm by it. "Come on, follow me then," she said, already walking down the aisleway.

Rose's stall was at the opposite end of the stable, underneath the stairs that led up to her living quarters. The mare let out a low, breathy nicker when Ava opened the door. She held it open so that Moriah could walk in behind her, then shut it behind them. She patted Rose's neck and gave her a kiss on the muzzle. "That's my girl," she crooned in a low voice. Turning back to Moriah, she said, "Watch her for me for a moment while I go and get my things?" It wasn't quite a question, nor was it an order, but she knew the redhead wouldn't refuse. Without fully waiting for an answer, she hastened out of the stall and made her way quickly up the steep stairs. She kept her own saddle and bags inside of her room to avoid the stable boys getting them mixed up with the castle's.

The saddle was sitting on end next to her dresser, a gift that had come from her parents shortly after she had gotten the job as master of horse. It was nothing fancy-- completely unadorned, plain leather, beginning to show signs of wear in spots. Still, she did not know how they had been able to afford it with their meager wages. It was precious to her, and she took great care of it. She frowned a bit at the high cantle, knowing it would make it a bit awkward for Moriah to sit behind her and perhaps a bit uncomfortable, but it wasn't too long of a ride. She grabbed two sets of saddle bags, one that would go in front of the saddle and one behind, knowing that there would be more than one bag's worth of things to carry back. Before leaving, she picked up the lost shoe to give to the blacksmith as reference, a pad for beneath the saddle, and an apple for Rose. With the saddle under one arm and the other gear under the other, she made her way back down into the stall.

She handed the apple to Moriah to give to Rose, then began the process of brushing, buckling, and arranging everything.

mentions: Moriah O'Malley, Svala Holt| tags: Moriah O'Malley| location: castle stables

𝘈𝘳𝘭𝘰 𝘌𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦
male| 27| werewolf| heir apparent of the pack of fordaemdur

Arlo's eyes narrowed slightly when Sersha brushed off his question, trying to read her. She was good at masking herself though, and though he knew something was happening, he couldn't pick up what exactly it was. He noted how she dropped her gaze when she talked about her restlessness. Maybe it was something like his dreams, after all. She obviously did not care to talk about it though, and he decided it would be best not to press her too much.

He raised an eyebrow at her jab at his own appearance, then smirked. "Perhaps it's another plague, sister," he said dramatically. He froze in place, clutching at his chest, then coughed mightily in her direction, stepping closer with each sharp hack. Falling to his knees he croaked, "Run, before it's too late. Tell Tarner that I...I loved him most." At this, a peal of hearty laughter burst from him. Sersha knew as well as anyone that his relationship with their oldest sibling was usually rocky at best.

mentions: Tarner Eathe, Sersha Eathe| tags: Sersha Eathe| location: forest outside of fordaemdur

[Meekins12345]

➴ 𝕽𝖆𝖒𝖘𝖊𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖗𝖈𝖊𝖑 𝕻𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖈𝖔𝖙𝖙 ➶
male|human|citizen

Ramses and his companions continued on the road at the sluggish pace that they had consistently been wandering. They were definitely on the their way to Fordaemdur, it's just they weren't in so much of a hurry, instead content to enjoy the ride and the company that had showed his face along the way. A small smile was on the young man's face as he looked to his acquaintance, his hands gently upon his horse's reins.

Unfortunately, Ginger didn't really seem to like Tarner, so the closer the two got, the more her ears seemed to pin at the back of her head, an eye always on him. The birds almost appeared to be that way, too. Sure, they kept close to their master, not opting to take flight, but they always had eyes looking at him. If not one, then the other as heads turned back and forth.

A hand went down to pat the mare's long neck, Ramses hushing her gently before looking back to Mr. Eathe. A nod was given shortly after. "Ah, so you're taking a walk? Sounds refreshing." He'd comment. "The forests outside the castle walls are quite a sight."

The answer to his earlier question had the boy nodding, and soon, once the question was reverted back to him, Ramses nodded once more. "I've been quite fine. Thank you, Mr. Tarner." He paused a moment more, soon flashing his companions pointed glances at the way they seemed to just eye their current passer-by as they began to slowly come up to him and begin to pass him by. "I should leave you to your walk, then, so I hope you have a nice one. I suppose I'll be seeing you around for the next few days." While he would've enjoyed a bit more of a chat with Mr. Tarner, he didn't really desire to make him uncomfortable with his friends. Perhaps, at a time where there weren't so many with him, it'd be better.

[Mentions: Tarner Eathe][Tags: Tarner Eathe][Location:Just outside of the Fordaemdur walls > Entrance point of the city]

---

❀ 𝓜𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓪𝓱 𝓚𝓪𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓭𝔂 𝓞'𝓜𝓪𝓵𝓵𝓮𝔂 ❀
female|human|domestic servant

The maid only narrowed her gaze at her friend's comment, she soon just flashing her a funny look before being tapped on the nose. A soft chuckle escaped her and soon she just rolled her eyes in a playful manner. In a way, Moriah did enjoy Avalon's teasings. They were funny, even if they did jab her sometimes. That was what teasing was for, anyway.

Moriah eagerly followed Avalon to Rose's stall, soon smiling upon the horse. She was such a pretty horse... And she could see that Avalon took such good care of her, too. She could remember a lot of the horses back home, where she had come from, were scrawny and skinny and, often, overworked... A lot of farmers were more eager to feed themselves than the horses that did the work.

Once the door had been opened and Ava went in, Moriah followed shortly after, thanking her friend before watching her pat her horse. Moriah was content to watch, although she did perk once she was asked to watch Rose a moment. A nod was given. "Sure." She replied before stepping up to the mare, soon watching as Ava left to go and retrieve whatever she was planning on bringing. Only after would Moriah gently reach up to pet the mare's cheeks, soon smiling at the mare. "You're a pretty one, aren't ye? The prettiest one in all the stable." She'd state with a small grin.

She did as she was told and kept the horse company, watching her carefully, as Ava got her things. Once her friend had come down with all of her things, Moriah held the stall door open for her and shut it once she had come in. She was about to ask if Avalon needed assistance with anything before she was handed the apple. A small grin appeared on her face as her eyes widened momentarily, then she proceeded to offer the apple to Rose. Whether the mare ate it or not was fine, and after Rose had decided what she wanted to do with it, Moriah would go and help with Avalon with whatever she needed concerning getting the mare ready to go.

[Mentions: Avalon Smith][Tags: Avalon Smith][Location: Royal stables]

[Boxen.]

𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚢𝚓𝚊 𝙿𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎
Werewolf | Female | Royal Physician | Rouge
|Mentions: | Tags: | Location: Streets of Fordaemur |

Coins clattered onto a deep oak worktop as Freyja was handed a crate of various coloured vials along with a few satchels of herbs so aromatic they threatened to give her a headache. She spent a minute looking over the glass and its contents for damage or blemishes whilst the apothecary collected the currency and stored it away under the desk, the two exchanging satisfied nods and smiles as Freyja bundled out of the door with a small wave. The crate clinked in her arms as she awkwardly shuffled it to sit on her hip, removing a small sheet of stained parchment from her bag as her eyes struggled to make sense of the hastily scribbled wording, clearly done by candle light as it was littered smudges and grammar errors. If the deep ink stains on her sleeves were anything to go by, her night had been spent working through the heavy paperwork and reports that had been weeks overdue.

Deciding to simply go by her memory of what she needed, the parchment was scrunched up and tucked away once more as she began moving towards the direction of the market. Ducking and weaving past various people, she soon saw the colourful canvas of the stalls come into view, her shoes clicking slightly on the stonework as she plodded down the street. Passing the enticing food stalls, she kept repeating her list in her mind, scanning for the correct merchant. She needed new gauze first, then alcohol since her a large supply of the latter had mysteriously vanished from her office.

[Crono]

𝓑𝓮𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓽 𝓕𝓮𝓷𝓷
Male ~ Thirty-Two ~ Human ~ Prince of Fordaemdur/Heir Apparent ~ Profile
Location: Streets of Fordaemdur ~ (Tags: Ronan) (Mentions: Ronan )

Bennet groaned internally as Ronan went on, simply shrugging at the comment that his brother wasn't his drinking buddy either. You'd be far more bearable if you were. The man let out a sigh as his brother went on about the drink being likely unable to aid him in his battle with sleep. Bennet wouldn't argue it, whether his brother realized it he'd noticed Ronan's physical state deteriorate over time since their father's death. Every time he returned to the castle and ran into him he looked less of himself than he had before. Though Bennet didn't offered not to bring it up until moments ago, but the current conversation was due to Ronan himself.

The next thing Bennet knew Ronan was throwing insults at him, hidden behind a veil of an equal amount of responsibility. This caused his eyes to focus and narrow at the man as well as having his jaw to set, restraining the temptation to hurl the immediate retort. That he didn't care or have any respect for his family or the people of Fordaemdur, that he was incompetent, that he was incapable of doing anything other than playing the fool that pretends to know what he's doing. As if he'd just done absolutely nothing as a royal, and Bennet wouldn't pretend he played nice all the time. But he tried to be there when it counted, or at least he thought so. Ronan's words cut far deeper than even he himself had possibly meant for, and if he'd been any other man before him Bennet would put him on his back.

"I'm sure you'd like that wouldn't you Ronan, to have me on a leash like some dog who comes running every time you beckon?" Even for a false pretense this was what was being asked of him whether his older brother realized it or not. "You know," he started, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning to one side by his hip. "There's irony that you'd come to me asking for some sort of unity, given the fact that you are the one berating me out in the street, in front of the very people you'd like to convince." Bennet glanced to their sides. Sure, there were those that passed them by and had kept going but it wasn't as if they were in a private setting. There were those who were watching or listening curiously from the sides of the street, the sight of their king having drawn them curiously out of their homes or duties. People weren't going to ignore them or give them privacy just because of their status, that wasn't how the world worked.

"Unity, false or otherwise goes both ways." With that Bennet stepped around the man to continue on is original course. Any thoughts of going back to the castle to bathe or get some more rest now completely having left his mind thanks to Ronan, which left the man with few other choices.