Divided We Stand (A Packs Roleplay, OPEN and ACCEPTING)

[spiff]

"Finn," he replied, dancing sky-blue eyes a substitute for the currently overcast real sky, "but everyone calls me Finvarra." It was a little inside joke he and his sister had, that they would introduce themselves all backwards, treating their names as nicknames and their nicknames as names. Of course, no one ever got it unless they were together when they did it, but some were charmed anyway by the twins' little quirks. Amara didn't seem the type to be so easily won over, however, but Finn took this in stride, as he did with most things that would catch others off-guard. He didn't dwell on the pleasantries but nodded to the snake she had dropped. "Nice catch," he said respectfully, not doubting for an instant that the she-wolf — undernourished though she may appear — was capable of making such a kill. "Are snakes common here?"

[-goldleaf-]

((I feel as though Cray would be more suited for Finn's games than sweet little Roan))

Roan's sculpted ears pricked forward instantly with the short-lived sound of the fae's laughter, amber-ringed eyes flashing with a kind of victory light for having tempted such a sound from the seemingly devilish dove. She was still a thrill, to be sure, but the growing feeling that she was an acutely different kind of flirt than him was becoming increasingly obvious to him. He was a flirt for the fun of it, but she seemed to be in it for the end game destruction for her little dropped hints of his meaninglessness compared to her. It would have been enough to make a lesser baron turn both offense and perhaps a few tears, but for Roan it made him pleasantly confused. Why did she speak in her little riddles? His slanted almond eyes narrowed slightly with her smile, even as he felt his mind stutter slightly to the aesthetic attraction of it he knew better than to take it as what it looked like. At her final statement he flashed a wry little toothless grin of his own, a deep-noted hum vibrating in his chest shortly as he arched a fine brow. "Words to live by."

[*~WolfSoul~*]

Amara's eyes flashed no amusement at the brute's nameplay, seeming, for a moment, almost annoyed with his attempt. But truly that was only Amara's learned habit of shutting down when someone made a joke that she didn't understand; she was wary of appearing stupid or being made fun of. However she seemed appeased by the respect in his voice as he complimented her kill, giving a slight dip of her thin muzzle. Upon his question, her carefully cool expression faltered as it always did when she was asked anything that related back to her. Her slightly narrowed eyes opened up, and her dark ears flicked backwards as if she was listening to herself formulate a response in her head. "Not really," she began, her head tilting to show the long line of her jaw all the way to her head, "but it may seem that way, I catch as many as I can.." The musical voice trailed off, leaving an obvious question in the air between herself and the handsome gilded brute. The skinny dove cast her gaze sideways and down at the body of her fallen prey, revealing the intense teal that ringed her eyes, normally hidden by her eternally thoughtful and cautious expression.

[spiff]

((I didn't mean to make her so psychopathic; originally, she was just a flirt with a short attention span, but then I went and thought nope, not evil ahem interesting enough and went and changed her to be like this. I think this shows something worrying about me, but I'd rather not think about it. Anyway, the best I can hope for is someone to come along who can show her she doesn't rule the world. I could maybe tone her down a little since Roan's probably the most willing to play her games and even he's not so intense, but then I feel like I might be compromising her personality. Sigh... decisions, decisions. =\
Speaking of Cray, what happened to him and Kirsten? I was thinking, and I thought I caught references to him in some of Lilith's posts, so now I'm super confused. Does he exist in this roleplay?))

"You'd do well to keep them in mind," replied Findabhair automatically, taking her attention away from him to look toward the healer's — whose name she really ought to learn — stew. She hadn't eaten in a while, and the smell of food was beginning to do things to her mind. "At least for the duration of our acquaintance." She didn't expect to be here forever, after all, and gave him a sideways glance that silently added, And won't that be a relief? Her gray gaze flicked to the healer one more time before she turned back to Roan, a self-mocking little smile toying around on her lips. She hesitated a moment, lashes lowered in consideration, before she took the fall and said, "What's her name?" with a nod toward the tiny female. When she raised her eyes toward his, it was with a slightly sheepish light in them that didn't often make an appearance. She could have chosen to ask the question to someone else, but after the course their conversation had taken, her quaint sense of humor demanded that he be the recipient of her inquiry, and she waited for the inevitable teasing to come with faux resignation.

Finvarra followed her gaze down toward the snake, attention snagging momentarily on the startling ring of teal in her eyes that had previously been hidden to him. If she opened her expression more to others, she would be rather beautiful, and he wondered vaguely why she was so distant. "Oh?" he said when she offered no further explanation for her actions, leaving it to him to sate his curiosity. "Do you harbor a particular grudge against snakes?" It was impossible to tell for sure since he was by no means a mind-reader (except with Finn, that was) but it seemed like it could possibly be a bit of a sore subject, and so he handled it delicately, carefully avoiding probing too far.

[-goldleaf-]

Fens mint and wheat eyes danced sideways into an almost shy peek to the fae beside him at her words, attempting to catch her facial expression to match it to the softness of her voice. His equally unevenly weighted brows pouted upwards slightly, the left's light-skinned scar making the change in expression all the more obvious in the dim lighting as it caught the light of the moon in a silvery flash. A smile tripped itself onto his lips solidly, steps swerving just enough for his lean-muscled shoulder to bump against hers affectionately. "How dare you speak so cruelly of such a delightful flower, I should hope that my wicked ways could never be compared to a hydrangea's lovely living." he was teasing, finding an immediate way to step from their budding bit of sincerity by way of light self-mockery.

((Squealing! Mirage your references to him weren't noticed by me only! Yes Rage, they're technically in the same universe as this Rp. Lilith left them and came here, so, perhaps in time they'll follow... idk))

Roan let another laughing hum escape his chest, delighted in her little sideways glance that had said so much more than her words. Perhaps in time it would be better for their parting from one another, they had just met after all so who knew, but the bit of lighter humor in it appealed to him greatly. His lips pursed slightly as her attention was swayed towards Tanga as the little copper fae was made busy by the stew's preparation; shifting his injured leg only slightly before he was using his forepaws to push himself up. He shook once, autumn fur releasing bits of his rich scent from its rain-masked depths. Roans bright eyes skipped up to her again as she looked back to him, present in her company as he put a bit of focus into stepping his forepaws out into a long cat-like stretch. A laugh once again danced its way through his smoldering gaze as she lowered her eyes in an accent to her words, mind pausing momentarily on the possibilities before him of teasing mockery. Little Miss Hypocrite. "Tanga," Roans voice was as full of autumn as his pelt, like the warm crackle of leaves and alive with the velvet smoke of bonfires. He pronounced her name with obvious delight, straightening from his stretch and looking slightly down at her now from his full height before sitting just as fluidly as he had risen; mindful that his foreleg could buckle from the soreness of it any moment. His tone was full of teasing enough for him, and he waited with coy eyes and slightly quirked brows for her reception of his easy surrender of knowledge.

[*~WolfSoul~*]

Amara's dark ears flicked toward Finn's voice while she kept her gaze on the snake. Her dark muzzle wrinkled slightly in clear distaste as he posed his question, her brows pulling together. "Yes.." she began, looking at the serpent with a baleful edge, "I was bitten as a pup..I grew up sick and weak. Never found the foothold to get back up, I suppose." As the slate and ink fae spoke, her voice found a bitter edge, though it was no less soft. "I still have to visit Tanga every few days, at a minimum." She sidestepped to cast a glance back at her own skinny length, something she usually preferred not to do at all. Her shift in position brought her body temporarily closer to the elegant brute, bringing her faint scent to his nose, carrying its hint of forest moss - a peculiar smell to find on any mountain wolf. From her scent, to the bitter edge in her voice, to quiet moves and surprising eyes, this dove indeed had secrets begging to be coaxed out, but instead of verbally tempting with words as many wolves were wont to do, hers were deep in her core and so rooted in her being that they could not be held in, leaking quietly at her seams. But it was clear that Amara's dark lips, sealed together once again, would not be easily coaxed to spill anything if she could help it. But she wasn't exactly sure how he had gotten her to tell him about her distaste for snakes, though that was only a secret to loners.

[spiff]

Finn lifted her eyebrows in a clear show of surprise at his willing relinquishment of the knowledge, only to draw them back down in narrow-eyed suspicion— two expressions that were such a far cry from her typical laid-back air that it was almost comical. She wrinkled her nose as she studied him more closely for signs of further response to come, almost pup-like in her sudden lack of subtlety. His tone was filled with plenty of teasing, yet the fact was that he'd passed up the perfect chance to poke fun at her. Unless...
"No, really," she said, obviously skeptical of the validity of his first answer. He could very well be pulling her leg, a trick that she herself might have done had their roles been reversed. "What's her name?"

Finvarra was quiet for what seemed like an eternity, shocked into silence by her revelation of something so personal to someone she had barely met. I'm sorry was the automatic response that came to mind, but Finn had enough tact to know that it wasn't a suitable one; and besides, he strived to swim against the current, no matter how tempting it could be to let it sweep you along. "And you never fear being bitten again when you're hunting them?" he asked at length, admiration sincere in his voice. As far as he was concerned, there were two courses of action she could have taken after the incident: avoid snakes at all cost, or refuse to be held back by her fear. That she'd chosen the latter was further proof of a steel inside the skinny she-wolf that ought to be recognized.

[The Royal Mirage]

((Ohmygosh, I'm completely obvious! *pride*))

...

((Wait, WHAT? I.. don't know how to feel about the possibility of Cray being in this RP... I think scared is an appropriate response though))

Tanga looked up from her work cutting meat, pale greens finding Roan and Findabhair with ease considering their paired shimmering coats, and wondered if Roan was speaking to her or simply explaining something to the sunny fae. Deciding on the latter, the honeyed russet fae finished cutting up her meat before stirring the stew. By now, it had started to fill the den with a subtle richness, marrow flavoring the broth with its natural goodness and nutrients. Her gaze suddenly found its way to Bastian, who had not spoken as far as she'd heard, and wondered how he felt about his grandfather's condition. As the sharp blade of her knife sliced through scarlet potatoes and sweet golden onions, she felt an unspoken sympathy with him. As far as Nutmeg had ever told her, Bastian had no other family, and though he was old enough to not need to crutch of siblings or parents anymore she still sympathized with him.

After a short talk, it became clear to Lia that no one had seen Lilith the entire day - after a short walk, it became clear to both siblings that she was not in her favorite 'storm spots'. It was this that lead them to the unsuspecting crack in the mountainside, covered with a blanket of moss that moved aside easily. "Lil?" Maia called softly into the darkness of the den, the rain beginning to patter out it seemed.

Lilith's sculpted audits pricked forward at the raspy voice that sounded from outside, though the rest of her refused to move from her curled up state. Her silky tail, constricted by the bone rings she had donned only recently, shielded her sisters from seeing any of the wetness on her face that had not been caused by the storm. Of course, despite making no noise, her nosy sisters entered anyways.

"Hey Littles," Lia chimed, her attempted enthusiasm fading when the navy pile of fur and bones refused to move still. The moonlit dove exchanged a worried look with her slate sister, realizing they should have come looking for her much sooner. Lia had experience running around in storms with Lilith, and she had experienced this unavoidable depression countless times since.. well, since then. "Lilith," she tried, stepping close enough to sit by the fae's head. "You can't go on like this - you need to get over it."

Those words seemed to awaken something in the immobile ball of angst, a low growl directed at the fae beside her sending the snowy dove bouncing back a pace or so.

Lia huffed, puffing her bangs out of her eyes. "Lilith, this is something you did," she began again, starting to get irritated. Lia had never been very patient when it came to love sickness, and it was clear that even her baby sister was no exception to this rule. "You can't just mope over your decision and feel sad for yourself-"

At this, Lilith's silken banner flashed back from her face, exposing bloodshot eyes and a tear stained face, no mask to shield her heart or hide her emotions. The sheer sadness, the anger in those crystal blue orbs, had both the intrusive faes silenced. "You think I wanted to go?"The words came out in a whisper of regret, of tormented sadness. "I had to go. He didn't need me, I wasn't good enough..." 'You deserved better..' her thoughts rang out after the flurry of growled emotion, closing her eyes again if only to see those stormy orbs behind dark lids. "Lia, Maia, please go. I'll.. I'll come out when the storm is over..."

((So.. went a little out there with this one - figured if two out of three veterans already knew I might as well make it super obvious XP Wish I'd done a better job with that, probably going to re-write it if I ever get along to writing this rp as a book))

[-goldleaf-]

((Aw little baby Bastian got noticed by Tanga:') Also, it's safe to relax Mirage, the idea of Cray joining isn't one I'm ready to accept even in thinking of the future of the Rp, so it's very unlikely that I'd ever want to add him anyway, I just miss him is all¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Roan lifted his injured paw and worked his shoulder in a slow circle, head tilting slightly as his weight shifted for him to do so. "I do not lie, Miss Sunshine." he informed evenly, still finding merriment in her played-at resignation to asking him for the healers name from before. But with her skepticism he was again given pause to the inner-workings of how this dove worked. "Surely the name must be at least familiar from you meeting her yourself," he placed his dark paw down again, this time the tilting of his head being the added measure to his cheeky look of feigned confused interest, as if surprised and in wonderment of her failure to connect. "Or would you rather swallow your pride and ask someone else to be sure?"

[*~WolfSoul~*]

Amara looked up into the brute's face, her eyes gently widening to show the brilliant teal that made her eyes, that were otherwise unremarkable compared to his ocean blues, positively captivating. It was the first time she had heard true admiration in anyone's voice when speaking about her in a very, very long time. His tone unlocked yet another expression on the cool dove's facade, one with a touch of relaxing warmth that cast a sudden femininity over her finely chiseled face. After a moment, she replied with a voice that was ensnaring with both its hush and its raw honesty, "Of course I'm afraid. But that doesn't stop me."

(sorry for the brevity, but I wanted to give you something to work with. I disappeared for a little while there))