[ ｒｅ-ａｒｒａｎｇｅ - dir ]

[vak]

x

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'cause i would never break your heart, i would only re-arrange. all the other working parts,
will stay in place. listen to me when i say "darlin' you're my everythin' "
i didn't mean to hesitate. please stay with me.

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[vak]

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the winter is full of hardship - sustenance is scarce and scarcer yet is love.
companionship, in one form or another, is the only aspect making the time
condemned bearable 'til the next spring turns to accept the land with open
arms. this year has been particularly terrible to the resident wolves of the
hollow. with their feeding grounds practically barren, they have been forced
into unfamiliar, hostile lands to hunt, threatening their return to a loved one's
side. but few have anyone to return to to begin with. the hearts of the unloved
are a puzzle to be solved - re-arranged. perhaps the warmth of a lover's
embrace could thaw the winter chill?

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[vak]

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this is a 'drop in roleplay', meaning that you are not bound by any means
to remain an active member of this roleplay. post once, or stick around
for a while, it's up to you! all that i ask is please do not stir up unreasonable
drama involving your character, then suddenly disappear. at least make
it so it may be resolved without you, should you decide to leave! there
are no forms, no discussion thread, no ranks or reservations. these wolves
live together, but separately. they live for themselves, or for a lover, but
not for a pack. please do only take on one character, and keep graphic
material out of sight. fades to black are your friend, friend. keep in mind
the cs rules, as they apply here and keep things friendly with other users.
all sexualities allowed, have fun! c:

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[vak]

( ｃｌｏｖｉｓ )
______________________
( nine ) ( single ) ( probably bisexual ) ( outskirts ) ( tagged; )


xx"its cold. colder than the norm, that is." there is no reason for clovis to have breathed this against the wind, save for perhaps watching as the steam of his breath was stolen away into the barren white. snow, wind, flurries; it all added up to a piercing nip in the air and a fairly shortened visual range to an already partially blinded canine. but despite the limitations, he knew himself to be alone here. in the outskirts, you never relied on anyone, even if you entered with them at your side. it's a lawless land, even more so than that of the homestead. you enter the outskirts when you're desperate - he is - and you pray to your god that you return at all from the venture. mostly the excursion isn't worth the effort; for clovis, this just happens to be one of those fruitless times. his absence had extended from the intended 5 hour trip into a 3 day tussle against a raging wind storm. much of his time had been spent huddled in a hurried hole dug beneath a flat bottomed piece of stone, shivering and hearing only the harmony between his stomach churns and the wind. in the least it is easy to say he failed severely on the front of returning to his real home with rations after such a time. though, it seems unlikely any would much notice the disappearance of such an aloof character back at the homestead for a long while, for not many of the long term residents found it in themselves to express much more than a distasteful glance his way. if he returned with food, that would be a completely different story. but he was returning with nothing on hand, only the last scraps of a scrawny rabbit he'd taken in before leaving his makeshift shelter out in the outskirts lingering in his stomach. not much there to share.
xxencompassed in shades of white, clovis is nothing short of an eyesore - a hunched forward mass of rough winter fluff that once upon a time, in younger years, had been a rich copper in tone, but now had grayed out into a grimy looking cold cream with splotches of random red patches appearing scattered across his body, the most noticable being across his face. beneath that fur his once strong build is beginning to wan. however, within the blur of the flurries and wind he had to appear more like a sentient section of bloodied snow rather than a wolf. the pace he had established was a slow one. his age was resounding in the ache of his joints following such strain over the past several days. youth has long been lost with the wind, the demands of the finalized war had finally caught him after so many years of running, pushing himself to the edge. clovis was no young man now, he aged like any other mortal, and did it alone. not once had he taken a lover before, bore no children, the matter of the war on his and his fellow soldiers' shoulders had been a far too heavy burden to rest or recover from so easily. even today, alone in the piling snow on the outskirt lands, he felt the weight of the war heavy on his being. it became a burden at some point long ago but it was the burden he must carry with him for the sake of protecting so many. clovis ran to escape the knowing look of those he had bitten the bullet for and only found a place where he longed for the return of that look.
xx3 days spent in the outskirts, but not long enough. for when the sight of the homestead hollow could be picked out from the blurred lines of the flurries and surroundings, clovis could once again feel his poor heart steel at the thought of having to call this barren waste a home, the place where no one - not even himself - cared for him. empty handed nonetheless. if no one here knew the definition of sympathy, how could a poor old fool like clovis place sympathy upon himself? was sympathy anything beyond a fever dream at this point? clovis couldn't tell you. either way the war torn canine gathered himself and continued his trek back to his retreat, his home here in the hollow of hell; his head ducked against the billowing wind even as the forces lessened the deeper into the valley he travelled. if anything, he'd like to rest his old bones for a moment somewhere properly sheltered, or damn near close to it.

word count: 770

[ossa di cervo]

ｖｅｌａｒａ

five ➸ single ➸ bi ➸ tagged; -

Velara never visited the hollow. The mere thought brought the smallest of snarls to her lips. The wolves that lived in the hollow were selfish.. cruel. Long ago, when she was a mere pup she'd been treated like the mud stuck to another's pawpads. Velara dealt with it for so long. The light grey fae had dealt with the torment of the homestead for so long until she broke. When she was born she was so full of life... energy and a zest that was squashed within the first weeks of life. Now she lived a life of patrolling the outer edges of the homestead, always watching them and brooding. What a life.

Velara's chin came close to her chest as she pushed against the heavy winds, each paw-step a struggle. Her home was nearby though it could hardly be called a home. A massive stone tipped over against one of the last of the huge trees.. a meager lean-to at best. Why had she left that joyous place? Who truly knew... Velara was haunted by a need to wonder, a need to find someone outside of the homestead and... speak... A loneliness filled Velara's chest, something she hid with snarls and a bristling coat. No one ever actually visited so it's not like it made much of a difference. Velara continued her venture, struggling against the brutal wind until it finally came into view.

"Rock, sweet rock." the fae said, sarcasm dripping off her tongue. She hurried inside, nose poking out so she could view anything or one that came struggling past. Her stomach growled, a rumble that shook her ribs. With a low whine the wolf laid down slowly, settling her nose onto her paws.

(( Hopefully this is okay! I love dirs so I couldn't resist.. This is my first time writing again after a long hiatus so it's... shaky, lol.
))

[.:Shuckles:.]

⊱ ── ＢＥＡＲ

6 years ⊱⊱ male ⊱⊱ bisexual ⊱⊱ word count: 452 ⊱⊱ tags: open


Finally, a streak of luck.
A hulking figure lurched through the snow and into the cold, inhospitable winds. Visibility was so poor in the midst of the raging blizzard that the lumbering form could have easily been explained away as a trick of the light. With an odd shuffling gait, the shadow of a muscular wolf persevered through the worst of the weather, his russet coat weighed down by the frost clinging to soft fur and the bulk of fresh prey. Dangling limply from his wide jaws was a skinny buck, congealing crimson smeared over the muzzle and throat of the wolf from its recent kill.

So named for his appearance at birth, Bear hefted the deer further into the storm as best as he could alone. It had been pure dumb luck that he'd chanced upon the young buck drinking from a semi-frozen stream, close enough that when the animal startled and tripped in its haste to escape; Bear quickly charged forward to catch it on the ground. Using his considerable strength, he'd wrestled it until the graceful column of its neck had been broken by their struggle and its dangerous hooves had stopped kicking out. Afraid of the deadly chill of the water, Bear thought it best to move his prey away from the sluggish river. That was how he'd ended up in his current predicament, chest heaving with the strain of dragging the weight of a full grown deer through the deep snowfall. Worse still, there seemed to be no cover or shelter in sight, not that Bear could see very far ahead of himself.

Strength beginning to wane, Bear was starting to grow desperate. He knew that this territory was home to the wolves of the Hollow, many pairs and solitary wolves without any ties to a central pack. Bear was absolutely starving, his large musculature both a gift and a curse when it came to filling his belly. Panting now, his warm breath condensed into steam that then formed little ice crystals all along his sensitive nose. Each exhale stretched longer, and each inhale brought with it less and less satisfaction. Unable to catch his breath, Bear reconsidered his previous plan of simply lugging the deer around until he found a place to stop. At this rate, he'd become a meal for some scavenger just like his unlucky friend The Deer. He wouldn't be able to eat the entire buck himself anyway he reasoned, his pace slowing until he came to a complete stop. He only hoped that there would be someone nearby to answer his call.

Gathering a deep breath that iced the inside of his lungs, Bear threw back his head and howled for help.

[vak]

( ｃｌｏｖｉｓ )
______________________
( nine ) ( single ) ( probably bisexual ) ( outskirts ) ( tagged; velara ) ( mentioned; bear )


xxwhether fortunetly or not for clovis, his so longed for humble abode fell in a shallow dip of the earth nearest the edge of the hollow, a hole itself within the sloping hole. easy to access, yes (if you don't count practically tumbling in when entering and scaling a steep slope when exiting), with a fair distance parting him from any neighbors he might have. certainly the lack of visibility it displayed limited visitors due to their simply not seeing the entrance, making life in the hollow that much more quiet for ol' clovis. on the opposing side, he was far closer to the outskirts than most any other, and with a heart far too dedicated to those in need, he more often than not was the responding aid to a distress call, so long as his aging ears caught the alarm. blame his time in the war, but a civilian's call for aid always had it's influential effect over him, no matter circumstances of himself. everything he had and was would find itself set aside in light of the potential of lending a paw for the slightest of issue.
with this in mind, you may already have an idea of what exactly the reaction was when a howl - far distant sounding against the grain of the roaring winds, and taxed, something bitterly resistent about it - found itself echoing within hard of hearing ears. clovis, old as he was and close as he was to his home, paused only for the few seconds it took to drag himself in a semi-circle to begin his trek back into the outskirts. travelling backward proved less difficult through the freshly carved path his legs had plowed through the fallen snow; paws contacted frozen ground much quicker and allowed for clovis to pick up the pace if only slightly, until he ventured beyond the hollow where the gusting wind had already returned the snow to a practically untouched state, then he had to begin again with the hard push to get himself out.
clovis tucked his head all the lower, now moving with the wind rather than against and having it give him an even more difficult time of moving properly. his fur flew up and exposed his skin to the chill, and the mere strength of the gusts threatened harshly to topple him over. if it weren't for the snow piling higher and higher up to his belly and beyond, he just might have taken several plunges into the quilt of snows. instead of frost nailing itself into his umber eyes, his own grayed fur did the job. seeing his path was more a luxury this trip as he more relied on his feet to guide him to the point he assumed the howl had originated. perhaps not the best of judgements on his part, but a justifiable one in the moment.
left. right. left. right. left. step by step he travelled, corrected himself where it felt necessary, moved through the snow with shivers and sniffles and aches that belong only to old men like he. his sense of direction felt well, well enough that he put aside the faintly entertained idea of producing a return call through frostbitten vocal cords. besides if the outskirts were anything, they were an interconnected hell-maze - key word being conntected. if you're lost, just wander, you'll find your way or your very end down a pathway. clovis kept the threat of needing to wander for hours during this storm simply to help a poor sould tucked deep at the back of his mind as a last resort. he really didn't look forward to that possible outcome. as he moved, the elder wolf noted a slight shift in the wind ahead, as if something blocked the way and the air was forced to compensate for it. he pressed forward just a bit harder upon noticing it, letting hope get the better of him like the sort of wishful pup he'd once had the luxery of being.
the end of his push came much sooner than expected as the splotchy old man cracked his head dully against a rather solid surface he had not had the chance to glance. the collision rattled him for several drawn out seconds where he stumbled back a pace and groaned a curse into the wind, eyes turning up to take in the sight laid before him; a large rock positioned securely against a mammoth of a tree. clovis tensed on the spot and craned his head to peek on the hidden inside of the makeshift cave, instantly taking notice of a darkened form laid on the floor. oh no.

word count: 776