Tell me your Secrets [Open]

[Duchanéir Olc]

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[atrb=background,http://i54.tinypic.com/3329lxv.jpg] Duchan's paws had led him out of the taiga and towards the mountains once more. It was not that he wanted to leave Ahote; no, nothing of that sort. He loved his alpha, but he knew things were more than covered with the strong males in the pack, including the two burly brothers Aroh and Syver. This meant he had more time to wander and gather information, which was one of his specialities. Though the cold weather didn't quite suit him well, he was enjoying the movement from the stickiness of summer. The mountains though brought a whole new onslaught, the cold biting winds, and ice under his paws. He counteracted the slippy surfaces by keeping his sharp claws out, and not retracting them like he normally did. This though made him sound like he was clicking as he walked, letting anyone in the vicinity know he was coming. Without them though he slid along like a pup learning how to walk. No matter; he knew no pack inhabited the mountain range, but that didn't mean it was without wolves. He moved carefully up the slopes, looking into crevices as he went. He would be here a while, and so with that thought in mind, he moved to where he could walk only in the snow. A small group of mountain goats stood before him, and the hybrid moved towards them, sheltering his badly camouflaged pelt with the snow and moving down wind. Eventually he was near them, and a quick pounce and snap of his jaws ended the life of one of the females. The rest bounded off, frightened by the wolf's sudden intrusion. He dragged his kill back to the path he was on, and continued his way up the slopes. Caves dotted the sides here and there, but no sign of anything as far as he could tell. He continued in this way until the sun began to set. Having lived for quite a few years, he knew the necessity of finding shelter in such a cold and desolate place. One of the caves which blocked the wind from coming in was his temporary shelter, and he set the goat down, frozen now, and waited for it to dethaw. When the meat was softer he tore from the flesh, chewing it slowly and staring out into the snowy winds that blew just outside as the sun slide down past the horizon. D U C H A N É I R . O L C

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[Citrine]

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[atrb=background,http://i1218.photobucket.com/albums/dd415/Somatra1/cback-21.jpg] "Speaking" A fittler, a flutter, the sigh of a weary breath and the drop of a tear on the mountain face as a winged rainbow tried to beat her wings against the strong norther winds. Crystalline eyes say little of the path before them, beaded over with moisture from the cold air and a heavy heart. It was such a tiny canine to be out and being battered by the harsh landscape, but here she was, out of place much like a streak of light in the midst of the midnight hour. Rainbow feathers were highly ruffled and out of place while fur was being lacerated every which way. Citrine the parrot myou wasn't fleeing, wasn't running, wasn't even entirely sure what she was doing apart from flying, and that much she had been doing for what felt like quite the while. Tired and finally taking note of the failing light in the sky, the small female finally had to try and make a landing. Full and colorful wings brought her minuscule body out from the sky, but as she went for a graceful landing the wind came to batter its cold hand against her body and sent her smacking into the mountain's rocky wall. Dazed and unable to see straight, Citrine finally faded away into an unconsciousness of dangerous proportions in such a setting. Her mind wavered between images of her beloved pups, all dead but one, her lovers and protectors, one dead and the other vanished and even in this state of unconsciousness a small whimper escaped her delicate maw. It hardly seemed fair that she should finally have found the family of her dreams, survived a harsh birth, been given adorable pups and gifted with two protector only to have it all roughly taken away. What was more was that she didn't understand her only surviving daughter, the hybrid was terribly different from her mother and father, different in general, and the sweet and soft Citrine wasn't sure how to handle parenting of such an individual on her own. The tropical looking myou regained consciousness some hours later, gingerly opening her eyes to darkness and bitterly cold air. Her stomach rumbled from undernourishment and her head throbbed persistently with every movement. Weak and certainly dizzy, Citrine still knew enough to be certain she needed to find safety and shelter to survive, but did she really want to survive? How easy it might be to drift into the arms of darkness and onto whatever lay on the other side, to finally be held in the arms of the Great Spirit and rest from life's trials? Maybe it was preferable this way, and Citrine set her head on her little purple paws and drew a breath, waiting for what might come of the night. C i t r i n e 's . S o n g

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[Duchanéir Olc]

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[atrb=background,http://i54.tinypic.com/3329lxv.jpg] [[ I wasn't sure if she was right outside Duchan's cave or in the cave, so I'm going to have her be outside the cave, since she crash landed. ono I hope that's okay.]] It wasn't too long before Duchan's senses started to tingle. Something wasn't quite right, and it was making him go bonkers. He grumbled, swallowing the last of the meat he had been chewing on, and left the goat near the wall, in a small crevice. It would hopefully stay warm tucked in there, away from the cold. The darkness was bringing much colder air to the mountains and Duchan had to force himself to leave the shelter of the cave. The wind whipped around him, but there seemed to be something dotting the cliff side just about a hundred metres from where he was. He scrutinized it from a far, trying to figure out exactly what the thing was. It was colourful; he could tell that on first sight, but what was it doing out here? The hybrid hoped it was just something natural, but reality told him it wasn't. He scowled, and began the slow ascent towards it, his claws digging into the slippery surface as he went. Soon he neared the object, which turned out to be a rather colourful wolf, and by the feathers and odd colouring he assumed she was a myou, and one that he actually knew. The scent of the Enclave hung heavily on her, and he recognized her quickly as Citrine. Never having met her, the male of course knew her. He knew everyone in the pack, just by picking up their names when... overhearing conversation. His brow knitted a bit as he got even closer. She seemed to be just lying there... in the cold? He sighed and moved closer. "You know if you stay out here, you'll freeze to death," he said, his voice rather matter-of-factly. There was no other way of putting it. A night destined to get colder, any wolf was toast without proper shelter. He lowered his body so he could look at her a bit easier. "You're from the Enclave, which is my pack. I'm bound by our laws to protect you, and even if I wasn't I wouldn't be leaving a lady such as yourself here without protection. Please, come back with me. I found a very spacious cave just down the mountain side, and I caught a goat ealier. You're welcome to have some. You're not injured are you?" He looked over her carefully, trying to see if anythign on her body was out of place. She looked okay so far, but that wasn't to say she was perfectly alright. Even still she would be small enough for him to carry, if needed. D U C H A N É I R . O L C

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[Citrine]

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[atrb=background,http://i1218.photobucket.com/albums/dd415/Somatra1/cback-21.jpg] Ooc: Perfectly fine and exactly so as it were! <3 "Speaking" Citrine barely heard the approaching steps upon the rocky path, her ears seemed to have gone numb from the cold and her concentration was not on the present but entirely sunk into the past. Images of a warm afternoon spent wrapped into soft fur and gentle nuzzles, another of the happy yips of young wolves and still again the caress of a tongue on her cheeks. It hadn't been that long ago, but it felt like ages in the myou's mind. She was no longer so young as to be naive anymore, she'd known lust, love and family, suffered through heartbreak, loss and even death, and yet by age she was still youthful. Though Citrine hardly felt so anymore, no she felt like an old bird with fading colors and thin feathers and maybe she was feeling sorry for herself, but the female felt reasoned in her emotionally tainted thinking. It wasn't until the other wolf spoke that Citrine realized she wasn't alone anymore, her ears perked forward but for a minute she didn't open her eyes. It was the male's reference to the Enclave that finally drew her attention and she opened her watery eyes, muzzle lightly turning in his direction. Could it be considered coincidental that this wolf from her home pack had appeared at such a bleak time in her life? Mayhaps it was fate, trying to shake some simple reasoning back into the slightly over dramatic female? Citrine's nose quivered as she took in his scent, indeed he was from the Enclave and though she had never met him Citrine felt he was perhaps an important individual. She not whether this was by title or simply by mere character, but she did believe it to be so. Rousing from her spot so that she was now sitting, Citrine wrapped her wings around a shaky body, limbs slightly numb and asleep from the harsh cushioning. Taking a breath to steady herself, the Eranthe finally answer in a voice much like tinkering crystal, "I'm not injured, the wind blew my landing off course, I'm not much of an obstacle to its strength." She put out a wry smile that bordered onto a grimace, "Indeed I should consider lucky that another Enclave wolf would happen upon me, it was the bite of the cold I was welcoming and probably would have embraced were it not for your presence." Her shoulders dropped as she realized the ridiculousness of such thoughts, what had she been thinking really? "My name is Citrine, and I would like to take your offer, though I apologize for any inconvenience my...foolishness may have cause." Citrine gave the larger male an apologetic look, wishing she could disappear before the flush of embarrassment threatened to engulf her face. C i t r i n e 's . S o n g

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[Duchanéir Olc]

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[atrb=background,http://i54.tinypic.com/3329lxv.jpg] She didn't seem to be totally there. Perhaps it was the cold, or the fall that had taken her breath away, but Duchan was worried. Did she hurt herself? A head wound was not something he wanted to take lightly, and taking her back to the taiga would not be an easy task alone. True, he was large and strong, but he hoped she would come to. But she finally began to stir, moving so that she was sitting. He moved forward, trying to gauge the situation to see if she needed help sitting up, or balancing, but she seemed to be okay. Shaken up was probably the best way to put it, but Duchan wasn't quite sure. He waited to see if she would reply, and sure enough she did. Duchan listened intently, moving his body around and trying to shield the female from the wind. Even if he hated the cold weather himself, there was nothing stopping him from being a gentleman. "Understandable," he said, nodding, glad that she wasn't hurt. If she was, healing her up in the mountains would have taken a ridiculous amount of time, and Duchan didn't like the idea of carrying her the more he thought of it. It would be done if necessary though. Her next words caused one of his brows to rise and he wondered for a while. Why would the myou so happily enter a place she knew might be her end? Why would she have embraced death? Instinct kept him alive, and though death seemed the easier way out sometimes, he refused to succumb to it. He said nothing though, not sure what words would be appropriate, and focused on what she said next. He was correct in his guess of her name, but he made no mask that he knew this before she said it. Wolves often found it weird how he already knew them before an introduction. "Do not worry, Citrine, it's not an inconvenience. My name is Duchanéir Olc, but Duchan is much simpler and easier to say. But let's save the rest of this for when you're warm and your belly is full," he said, pointing his head down the mountain side a bit. "If you're okay to walk, I can lead you to it, it's just a little ways down," he moved down the slope, head turned to watch her and see if she would follow. D U C H A N É I R . O L C

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[Citrine]

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[atrb=background,http://i1218.photobucket.com/albums/dd415/Somatra1/cback-21.jpg] "Speaking" Citrine looked up -for Duchan was considerably taller- and gazed at a pair of startlingly orchid eyes, surprised by their almost luminous quality. As she took a second to take note of the male's physical appearance, she realized that contrary to her first opinion this wolf was not all black and in fact his fur was speckled with tiny spots of varying blue and purple colors. Really if one took a closer look they wouldn't have too much trouble noting the almost feline properties to this wolf, and her second soul chirped up with caution, though Citrine was rather quick to quell such a ridiculous concern. Instead she forwarded a smile that although small, was in fact chipper looking, an improvement already in disposition. The problem with having a bird as a second soul was that the female was easily flustered, just as when she was happy it really was exaggerated into something comically jovial. With a nod Citrine signaled that indeed seeking shelter would be a better idea, and getting up gingerly she gave her wings a tiny shake, getting the blood flow back into the one she'd been leaning on. Little talon like claws scraped on the rocky ground, delicately pointed weapons that they were, at best she'd be able to scratch her opponent's eyeball out, and the female fluttered after the male. She followed his furry shape into the sheltered covering of a cave, blinking owlishly as her eyes got used to the dark before she moved off into the side of the cave. Here she curled into the outcropping of a jagged wall, body pressed against the stone to heat it up and gave a tiny relieved sigh. Maybe she had wanted to die, maybe she might have gone through with it, but still in the moment it felt good to not have the wind lashing out at her delicate feathers. After a quick cleansing lick to her paws and a brief grooming of her colorful feathers to make herself comfortable, Citrine turned her bright eyes once again on her rescuer. "This is a nice spot Duchan, thank you for sharing it," she shifted on her spot and let her gaze drift, for once a bit tongue tied and out of her element, "I fear asking it, but I do not know whom else to prod, as a male in the pack, might you have heard of Draco?" Citrine swallowed the lump in her throat, she missed the other myou but had not the faintest idea what had happened to him and feared the worst. In many ways the Enclave was a ridiculously well matched pack for the female, she was hospitable, wanted to have pups, enjoying nurturing them and giving support to her mate and frankly didn't mind occupying a traditional role. That also meant she relied on the support she had established with the two male wolves in the pack, so both having gone missing had the same effect as her crashing into the mountain. "I was just hoping that you might know what had happened to him?" Citrine knew Nautic had died, Draco had told her as much, but then Draco himself had disappeared after promising to look after her. Little did Citrine know, but Draco had actually been the one to kill Nautic, a piece of the puzzle best left hidden... C i t r i n e 's . S o n g

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