Aucun retour. No return. [Open]

[Brink]

I am extremely bored, and hiatus’ suck, soooooo time for some rp’in.
Character: Faith [Profile] [Reference]
Setting: Scatterstone Beach. Winter. 1-2 a.m.


Aucun retour. No return.

Winter’s cold hands had long since gripped the icy beach and its ocean, sending most creatures running for higher, and warmer, grounds. The waters were well below freezing temperatures, carrying chunks of long frozen water at tossing them to the shore’s edge, only to pull them back into the salty waters. The only light came from a pale, perfectly round moon, which was covered in translucent clouds, which were constantly shifting high above Kloteck. A light breeze, as bitter and cold as winter itself, moved across the land, making the few plants that lined the beach rustle and shake gently.

One of the very few creatures who viewed this scene was Faith. She sat silently, on a rocky out-cropping close to the shoreline, head-bowed, turquoise eyes closed in a solemn manner. The pup seemed to be dwarfed by everything around, as she was only a few months old. Yet, she had already made her decision to leave home. A stupid decision it was, seeing as her infrequent attempts at hunting were futile, at best. She had no clue were she was going, how she was going to survive, or how far she was from any other friendly creatures. But, she had still opted to leave her happy family of six to find her ‘true calling’, as the youngster put it.

She shifted uncomfortably, bright eyes still staring out into the darkness. It was dangerous, but she was brave, daring, adventurous. Right now, she was trying to figure out a plan. Where she would stay, what she would eat, and what would she do if she happened to get into any trouble. Rakine. She had heard her parents speak of it before. It was a human settlement, somewhere up or down the beach (she really didn’t know which). Faith knew that humans meant food. And with food, she could survive. Yes, she would head for Rakine.

Faith clambered down the rocks, finding it difficult to do the darkness of winter’s cold and long nights. She had no real clue which direction was right, and which was wrong. Blindly, she chose a direction and used the shoreline to guide her. Even more she started her journey, she doubted what she was doing. I could always go home, she thought to herself, I know the way back to the den. The pup shook her head, as if to rid herself of the thoughts.

And so, off the tiny pup went, leaving a trail Of tiny paw prints behind her.

[severin]

Floundering ice shards struck against the shoreline, battered by the waters that had first created them. The scent of cold sand and salt made any guidance by nose pointless – a cold sea breeze could rid a beast of his natural musk if it permeated to skin. And despite the loyal moon shining a beacon onto the still-awake, the darkness had fit itself snugly to all but the long strip of beach-land. At night, wandering across sea-spattered rocks and driftwood was dangerous for the clumsy or unsure. But the beach rarely harboured predators, sinister as it seemed in the moonlight.

Still, Shane walked with guarded steps, yellow eyes perpetually narrowed to sift through the shadows. He was not the skulking type, not with such long legs and a body built for the rolling lope of wolves. Tall for an Anatolian, but he carried the breed’s rugged stature well, with scant traces of the wolf blood that hummed in his veins. Only in the fierce yellow eyes did his mother’s wildness shine through, gleaming feral in the moonlight. Shane was not tame, he had merely been adaptive. His father had aided man in the guarding of flocks, but his half-breed son had no such ambitions to wear the leather collar and answer to a foreign name. Snowbird’s influence had rested too heavily on her son’s brawny back, so that Shane sought the freedom she had loved – but he did not seek his mother’s favoured solitude. He was meant for the group, a pack creature in nature and marrow.

The dog eased back onto his haunches and watched Faith as she moved her way up the beach. He had the vantage point of a small hill of driftwood and kept steady by digging his claws into the sodden bark. Shane had lived the wild life longer than he had the domesticated, but he had never seen a pup so young tread independently. There was no other adult in sight or scent range, but the youngster did not seem forlorn or desperate for aid. Intrigue struck the dog and bade him investigate further. He let off a soft yip and descended from the wood pile, picking up a steady trot to bring him closer to Faith’s side.

“’Ello," he wanted to sound so dignified, "are you alone?” His voice was a rumble, and Shane looked in the moonlight as young as he was, the stamp of adulthood still damp in his bearing. “What is your name?”

He would not have been so bold with a true adult. But in front of a pup Shane could fill himself with authority and parade like a war hero if he wanted.

[Brink]

Ooc; Sorry it took so long to reply. I got buried in school work

ic;
As soon as Faith began walking, she became aware that there was something watching her. It could have been her imagination, which was at its peak at her age, but she wouldn’t believe it. When she became aware of the footsteps behind her, she sped up, fearing that it was one of those terrible monsters that plagued her dreams. The pup’s head was lowered and her tail pressed between her legs, the classic signs of fright. It was only after she had gone a few dozen yards that she dared look behind her. And, sure enough, she could make out a large form behind her. After another yard or two, Faith whipped around, planning on confronting her follower, who walked beside her. To her surprise, it was no more than another canine.

Turquoise eyes looked up and down the half-breed, as if sizing in him. Apart from his size, there was nothing that threatening about him. He looked friendly enough to her, not like some crazed predator who would consider eating her. But you could never be too sure… So, she remained on guard, ready to bolt or attack (not that she could do much against him) if her instincts told her to. “’Ello, are you alone? What is your name?” The eyes of the whelp narrowed, as if his question were suspicious. Careful she eyes him, deciding if replying would put her in any danger.

She could tell him that she wasn’t alone, but the again he wouldn’t believe her, seeing as how there was no traces of anyone on in this section of Scatterstone but them. Or she could tell him the truth, and risk the possibility of getting kidnapped, or attacked, or whatever the hell he may have planned. Or she could tell him the truth: Her name was Faith, and she was alone. After all, she was running away.

“Faith’s the name, and I am alone. What’s it matter to?” She could have phrased her reply about nicer, but she didn’t appreciated the way he flaunted himself like he was better than just because he was older.

[severin]

Shane considered himself some great shining hero for finding the lost pup and saving her from any potential harm. His chest puffed slightly and an exaggerated air of smugness lit about the dog’s stance. The dog ignored any suspicion in Faith’s eyes and smiled with all the confidence of someone who knew he was doing the right thing.

“Faith’s the name, and I am alone. What’s it matter to?”

“Wha’?”

Stumped and deflated, Shane offered the pup a boggled gaze, his brow puckered and a concentrated frown dallying about his mouth. The dog was utterly perplexed she was not receiving him with warmth and downright relief, glad for the company of such a strapping and protective creature. He gave her a beady-eyed glance that looked quite comical and snorted, trying to net what was left of his evaporating dignity.

“Well ah did na’ say it matters to…uhh…wha’?” the puppyish confusion showed on his face. “It’s dark out, see? An’ ah figured mebbe you were…lost?”

Realizing how foolish he looked, all the self-importance went out of Shane and left him slumped and agitated.

“Well look…are you lost?” his rich tenor voice sounded much better devoid of arrogance. “Cos ah…well, ah sort of know mah way around here, ah mean, ah’m na’ an expert guide or anythin’, but ah’ve hunted here th’ past few days, an’ anyway…well…”

He was the helpless one now, still big and strong but struggling to remain the grand hero.

“Ah’m Shane, ah guess.”

ooc: you'll get no arguing here...take as much time as ya need

[Brink]

Ooc; Thanks. I appreciate it, Sev.

“Wha’? Well ah did na’ say it matters to…uhh…wha’”

If she was in a laughing mood, Faith probably would have snickered at the befuddled look of the large cross-breed. He acted like he was some great hero, finding her in a “great time of need”, but she was no more lost than him, figuratively speaking of course. It seemed like he wished for her to fall down to her knees (not that she could) and kiss his feet for ‘saving’ her. “It’s dark out, see? An’ ah figured mebbe you were…lost?”

“I’m aware of that.” The pup spat out the remark, eyes rolled in annoyance and head and tail held high in defiance. He and his superior attitude were getting on her nerves. She wasn’t a completely a blind and stupid whelp who couldn’t tell night from day; she could tell perfectly well that it was dark outside.

“Well look…are you lost? Cos ah…well, ah sort of know mah way around here, ah mean, ah’m na’ an expert guide or anythin’, but ah’ve hunted here th’ past few days, an’ anyway…well… Ah’m Shane, ah guess.”

“Nice to meet ya’, Shane,” Faith said, as she began walking again, not waiting to see if Shane follow. “You know the way to Rakine?” She was trying to be a bit nicer since he was basically offering her aid in running away form her parents. Hopefully he would be able to tell her which way she had to go to end up at the bayside city. And if he didn’t, well it was nice to have some protection against predators, even if it was only temporary.

[severin]

Rather than being distraught the pup was eyeing him with blatant displeasure so Shane knew exactly how unwelcome his heroic advances had been. The dog had acted in good heart – there was a small she-pup wandering around in the dark and no one else in sight, so how was he not to assume she was lost or frightened?

The dog didn’t appreciate Faith’s attitude but held his tongue and let her off with a cool stare. He might have jogged up full on arrogance, but with all intentions and purposes in the right order, like a solitary knight. But somehow the she-pup’s edge had popped his ego and left Shane in a dour funk. He couldn’t harbour a grudge against someone he’d only known maybe five minutes, but this certainly wasn’t the best impression to start off with.

“Nice to meet ya’, Shane. You know the way to Rakine?”

“Ah guess ah c’n get ya there,” the dog rumbled, trying to lighten his tone. “Ah suppose ah was a bit…overbearin’, mebbe should na’ have assumed ya to be helpless like ah did. Righ’…anyway, sorry.”

Shane lifted his head and snuffed the cool air before throwing out a light growl.

“Salt water like tha’ mucks up scentin’ for anythin’.”

The tawny dog lengthened his stride to catch up with Faith.

“So how old are ya, then?”

[Brink]

“Ah guess ah c’n get ya there,”

“Really? Well, thank you then, Shane.” The voice of the pup was high and excited as she answered him. A small smile had appeared on her lips and obvious excitement lit up her eyes of blue. Finally, a break. Someone to help her get away from her parents, who, on all accounts, had done nothing wrong, except in the eyes of Faith.

“Ah suppose ah was a bit…overbearin’, mebbe should na’ have assumed ya to be helpless like ah did. Righ’…anyway, sorry.”

Instead of saying something rude or insulting, as she normally would, the pup just shrugged. He had thought she was just another desperate little pup, lost and looking for her family, just because she was small for her size? So what? She had been the runt of the litter, and never been as strong as any of her siblings, but she could still think for herself. But, Shane was only trying to help and he did say he was sorry, so she might as well lighten up on him… for now.

“Salt water like tha’ mucks up scentin’ for anythin’. So how old are ya, then?””

Faith had never been off the beach, so she could say nothing about what the salt water did for ones sense of smell. Nor did she know exactly how old she was. But, she didn’t want to seem like some stupid, helpless pup, so she guessed. “Three or four months,” she didn’t turn around or break her pace as she answered.

“What are you doing in Scatterstone, anyway?” She asked, turning her head towards the mix, but not stopping.

[severin]

Faith’s changeover in attitude did nothing for Shane’s sour mood. His ego was about as strong as a newborn bird, and sometimes just as annoying, and having it thrashed by a pup was…embarrassing. The dog had a quicker recovery period than most (do in part to his stellar sense of denial), but something about being told off like that…From the mouths of babes. He’d get over it in time. Shane paused before returning Faith’s smile. So he was doing something right, thankfully. Maybe she hadn’t been immediately receptive of his rescuing, but Shane could tell Faith needed guidance. And here he was, a big strapping dog, ready to lend himself to her cause.

His long, purposeful strides kept up easily with Faith’s gait. The pup was so small, Shane considered that she might be an orphan, and thinking that only doubled his desire to help her. The beach was cold at night – freezing, even, and the hunting was poor even on a clear day. The tawny male hadn’t enjoyed his stay; he was from forested land and open field, with actual grass, and where the trees weren’t just pieces of sodden wood. It was noisy here, with the waves crashing, and combined with the prevalent sea-smell made looking out for trouble hard to do. Shane’s yellow eyes were narrowed to a fierce squint as he swung his head left to right, keeping an eye out for any miscreants that might bother them.

“Three or four months.”

Shane blinked at Faith and wrinkled his brow. She had to be an orphan – no pup only a month or so weaned would be out without her parents.

“What are you doing in Scatterstone, anyway?”

“Passin’ through,” the tawny dog muttered, focusing his gaze on their surroundings again. “Ah left mah father about four months back an’ went wherever th’ huntin’ was good. Figured it was time ta find a pack. Ah hated livin’ on tha’ sheep farm, bein’ worked like some dumb mule for ma da’s humans. They wanted me ta wear th’ collar, so ah left. Ah’m na some slave.”