It's dangerous being free,
but most come to like the taste o' it
ygritte wildling • female • heterosexual • loner • no love interest • mentions: • tags: hermes, alaska, shiloh
──────────────────────────────────────────────────
Winds whispered through the trees, soft voices of the packs echoing every which way. The whispers danced through the trees on the mouths of squirrels and sparrows, and through the underbrush on the whiskers of mice and rabbits. Humans had come, they had found their way through the pass, setting their sights on the land the wolves had built. Greedy, disgusting creatures who lusted for power and cared little for nature. If they should take the place of the apex predator, the whole of the world would be consumed by the destruction they brough. The red wolf herself had seen several humans when she was but a pup, their skins varied but they had no fur to cover themselves, instead they would dress themselves in the skins of other animals, as if to parade their savagery for all the world to see.
Her mother had oft told her stories of the first humans and how the wolves defeated them, but now that they had returned they seemed to ravage anything they got their grimy paws on. Ygritte had departed from her place further out and found her way into the heart of the Red Mountains. She had stumbled across the pack territory purely by accident, but she had remained within it on purpose. Even now the woods whispered quietly to her, giving her a sense of peace and protection. Though they were a great distance from the breach, they were by no means out of harm's way. Even if she were to continue her way up the mountains and out of the valley where would she go that the humans would not? They would destroy the world if given a chance and no one had ever said that they did not live elsewhere.
It was the scent of ashes that brought her reeling back to reality, the scent of the humans in the flesh. Yet it was not their scent that made her hackles raise, it was the scent of wolves. Their true voices danced through the air until they found their place inside her ears. These were no meager whispers, no fools words from the mouths of insolent prey. No. These were true wolves of the pack, and she had stumbled across them in her troubled thoughts. She paused meagerly, there was no true place to hide but the underbrush and so she sank down to her stomach and watched the three through pale blue eyes. The words were not clear, and so she could not decipher what their conversation was about.
She made the reckless decision to stalk closer to these three, her eyes flashing across their pelts, body fully aware of the placement of the wind in regards to her scent but she was upwind of them, the would not catch her scent. Not now anyways. As she crept forward, she felt a twig snap beneath her paws. The noise was concerning, loud enough to catch their attention yet just then she couldn’t look up to check, she simply froze in her place, gawking at the twig beneath her paw.
There are no men like me. There's only me.
jaime (the lion wolf) • male • heterosexual • lead hunter • no love interest • mentions: • tags:
──────────────────────────────────────────────────
Consciousness greeted him with the sharp grinding of teeth again bone, whispers between wolves and the shrill whistle of the breeze between leaves. All were commonplace for Jaime, he awoke from each sleep to the sounds of the pack and no other sounds could be quite so filling. He stretched his forepaws before him, feeling his muscles twist and stretch beneath his pale cream coat. When his muscles and joints had had their fill and the snapping and popping had ended he stood upright and made to check over te pack. He noted each wolf that was missing and each that had found themselves a place to gnaw upon a bone. He was vaguely aware of eyes eyes turning to him but he did not mind.
He was a powerful hunter, for a certainty. He could kill with quick proficiency, but even then he was not enough to outmatch humans. They wore the skins of those they killed and hunted for thrill not for survival. They demolished trees to build their homes and controlled the flames that burned forests to the ground. He had been told stories of the days of the first man and the pack that put an end to their reign of terror but he had never encountered them until this recent breach. He had always felt that he was safe, his pack was safe… his family was safe… but his mother had died at the hands of the human traitors and had found herself a trophy for their cruel hearts. He would never forgive them for their cruelty.
He was dragged from his thoughts at the sound of bones clattering to the ground. Several pairs of eyes looked up until they found Goliath, Shattered fragments of a broken bone lay scattered about by her paws yet her eyes did not turn up to meet the stares, rather they turned away and made their way out of camp. He glanced about the other wolves as they each returned to their meals and talks. No one tried to check on the usually calm wolf and so he would do such.
He could follow her scent easy enough, small clumps of fur lay in some branches where they must have snagged on her pelt. She was desperate to get away that was for certain. Her scent carried a lingering tinge of worry and frustration… perhaps anger? He could not be certain. He trailed her until her scent seemed to mingle with the tinge of water where he found her silhouette placed beautifully against rocks that outlined the waterfall. She had placed herself close to the edge and had let the water splash against her fur as it dropped down to the water below.
He approached with caution, kindly in truth, not wanting to startle her yet he said nothing as he came to her side until at last his haunches found the cool stone. “It’s nice out here, isn’t it? Free?” he offered, not looking towards her. His pelt mingled with hers in a comforting manner as his head turned towards the clouds.