• Closed • Now Don't Freak Out, But...

[Kali'rial]

33rd Saun, 717, Late Afternoon?

They ran, Immortals they ran.

Kali'rial grinned like a lunatic as she pounded along the dirt tracks of the grove, her heart beating wildly and fresh amber eyes burning with delight. Flashes of grey and tan fur burst through the foliage beside her, Sarkis' pink tongue lolling from his mouth as he loped beside her. As they moved together branches scratched her arms and face, but the huntress didn't feel it nor would she care. She was a Wolf-Walker now, and the sound of her companion sang in her mind.

"We will hunt Kali, together in our pack, like the wind in the trees we will run and dance. Our prey will feel our teeth at its throat only when it is too late. We will tear the heart from evil where it makes its home. Together Kali. Together!" As if to emphasise his words, Sarkis howled as they pushed on, causing the brunette to laugh and howl in return. Her blood thrummed through her veins like never before.

Alive. She felt alive.

Breaking free of the grove, the huntress and canine came together, he leaping up to rest massive paws on her shoulders and lick her jaw with a fond growl. Kali rubbed his soft ears, burying her fingers in the ruff of his fur and pressing her forehead to his. Muddy, dirty and scratched up with long dark hair loose and wild across her shoulders, the Wolf-Walker padded on bare feet through the city gates towards the only place she wanted to be now.

The Muse.

Sarkis walked beside her, bright golden eyes scanning the people as they passed, his stance not threatening but clearly protective of the Sev'ryn. Moving through the central square and across cobbled streets, Kali rested a hand casually on his back as though unconsciously needing to be in contact at all times, running her tongue over the unfamiliar sharp points where her canines had extended into modest fangs. That would take some getting used to. As they reached the wood of the dock, she slowed and looked at the familiar orange hull of the boat. Glancing down at the wolf, Kali reached out with her mind to speak to him, a strange but comforting communication.

"I need to speak to someone first. Pash. He's important to me, my mate I suppose you might say. This will be...new. Can you give us a moment?" Looking up at her with a lupine grin, Sarkis sent her a feeling of affirmation, before he faded from view slightly as though he'd suddenly become a mirage.

"When it is time, your mate will see me." Smiling down at the wolf, she walked towards the sloop with the spirit beast beside her. The Sev'ryn wasn't entirely sure if the tall Biqaj was even aboard The Muse, but it was the first place to start.

"Qu'ama, are you here?" She called out, climbing the side of the boat to slip onto the deck with a gentle thud. Beside her, Sarkis easily cleared the gap with a powerful leap, landing without a sound in his spirit form.

[Pash Raj'oriq]

Pash had finally perfected his tent idea from earlier in the season by re-using the canvas he’d purchased for the pavilion he’d set up during the trial of the rainbow skies, cleverly creating a canopy using the mainsail line, the mast, some rope, and the railing on both sides of the sloop. The shelter made a little respite of shade on deck that stretched meagerly from the hatch that led belowdecks to the mast. It was a better spot for Ellis and Niv to still have sunlight without the risk of spontaneously combusting in the unrelenting temperatures. The canvas' shade kept the deck from searing the flesh off of bare feet as well as made it somewhat more tolerable to sit outside in the faint sea breeze while not having to be directly under the glare of the suns all trial long.

And there was evidence to Kali’rial when she climbed on board that the seafaring minstrel had been doing just that: his carpentry kit was carefully spread out on the deck, his folding stool in the middle, and several pieces of wood in various states of use. Oh, and sawdust. Everywhere. Not all of Pash's process was tidy. He had wanted to build two small planter boxes for the aft on either side of the tiller after his conversation with Faith before the storms had interrupted everything, and while it’d been a few arcs since he’d really done any building projects other than what was necessary in a pinch to repair his sloop, he was determined to make something that was not a boat and that was useful.

He’d done his best to sketch out his idea on a scrap piece of wood, having carefully measured everything about twelve times to make sure he had the dimensions right, and judging by the looks of partially finished, not completely together things scattered in the shade, Pash was about halfway through his project. He had used a small hand saw to make the sides of each of the two boxes roughly even, then carefully set the corners together with glue to make a waterproof seal. This had frustratingly proven itself far messier than the tall Biqaj had been expecting, and while he endured it all to set several edge-to-edge pieces in the heat to dry before also nailing them together, once he was finished, he went belowdecks to get himself less sticky.

He also went down into his cabin to drink some water, because Immortals the heat was merciless even with a little bit of shade. As he stood there finishing a second cup of cool water he'd ladled from the well-crafted storage tank beneath the floorboards of his little galley, his thoughts wandered to thinking about how to create a some kind of cold box to keep food longer using green sand and possibly a snowcrystal. He then found himself trying to decide when a good trial would be to go get some green sand …

Maybe he was a little hungry, he realized, and so decided to have a snack, nibbling on some crusty bread and the last of the cheese he'd been sent home with from Cally's the night before.

And as he wiped his hands on his already glue- and sawdust-covered pants, he noticed his lute could use a little waxing.

And once he picked it up, honestly, at least one of the strings was looking worn, so he should probably replace it while he was down here before it snapped during a performance.

And—

“Qes, I’m here.” Pash set his lute back down with a smile and turned to make the handful of steps it took to cross his cabin to hoist himself back above decks, all but skipping the three stairs it took to get down. The change in light was glaring and annoying in its want to sear the sight from him with pure heat, and the tall Biqaj shaded his eyes with a calloused hand for a moment, expression broadening into a grin at the wild-looking creature in the shape of a dark-haired Sev’ryn on his deck, “Where ‘n all Idalos have y’ been—”

In his admiration and ignorance, his baritone voice bordered on the coy, approaching the dirty, scraped-up huntress with her wilderness-mussed hair and her Saun-darkened tan with all the intentions of snatching a kiss. His hands weren’t made shy by the obvious but strangely attractive brush with the outdoors she’d had all trial, but when his bright, tide pool gaze met hers, he paused. The familiar return in periwinkle blue he’d come to expect had been replaced by amber hues that reminded him more of an animal than his lover, and the confusion caused his expression to falter only a little. An observable little, that. His smile somehow remained because it was very clear by the huntress’ ready-to-burst sort of expression words were about to pour forth into the close proximity between them, words the Empath needed to magic to perceive were something important,

“—Kali?”

[Kali'rial]

33rd Saun, 717, Late Afternoon?

Looking around the deck, the brunette couldn't help but grin at the mess that was Pash's creativity. Wood, various tools and sawdust. So much sawdust. It was clear he'd been at it for a while whilst she'd been occupied by the Immortal of the Hunt. Moving over to the glued wooden half-box, the huntress examined it for a moment, watching the faded wolf pad up beside her to sniff at the creation. Snorting and shaking his head with a sneeze, Sarkis flitted away again, exploring his new surroundings curiously.

Turning around at the sound of the bards familiar baritone from below deck, Kali'rial smiled broadly with wild abandon, her adrenaline still thrumming in her blood stream. Moving towards the man as he came across the deck, she took in his appreciative grin with a laugh and move to kiss him, happy to have his hands on her dirty messy self. It was then he looked at her, saw her, and the Sev'ryn took a deep breath even with the lunatic smile on her face.

"I can't even begin..." She breathed, before laughing again with over excited delight. Lowering her wolfish gaze, the huntress took a few more breaths to still herself, for the sake of them both. Taking his hands, Kali looked up again with a little more self control.

"Hunting aìdá, I've been hunting. I was just minding my own business, ot djal, when suddenly there was a wolf. Just staring at me, like it was looking inside my soul. Then a woman, all furs and wisdom and then whoosh! It wasn't here, it was somewhere else. Karem's Forest. Pash, it was the Immortal of the Hunt. She chose me to Hunt with her." Pausing for a breath, the shorter Sev'ryn shook her head with another soft laugh.

"There was a deer, I caught him and figured you wouldn't want a bloody carcass on deck so he's currently stashed in the grove. I'll need to go get him. Anyway, that's beside the point. Oh, there was this beautiful golden stag and a wolf so big you could walk under its belly without touching it. Well, you might touch it but I definitely wouldn't be able to. It licked me, right from chin to forehead, gross but amazing. But that's not the point.." Stumbling through her words faster than her brain could take time to think, Kali was jumping back and forth in the tale in her exuberance. Looking over at Sarkis' ghostly form where he'd now settled by the tiller, the southerner smiled, before turning back to the sailor.

"Karem has marked me qu'ama, with her Velduris. I'm a Wolf-Walker now, part of her pack." Grinning broadly for a moment to display the slightly elongated canines she now wore, the fiery eyed huntress let his hands go to move towards the tiller, pausing and looking back at him with a small smile.

"I can sense the little prey animals, around us now. There's a mouse, or something, below deck. Clearly it's been smart enough to avoid us. I also have...a companion." Looking down at the wolf sitting by her feet Kali'rial nodded to him, and Sarkis phased back into solid lupine flesh and blood, staring at the seafaring minstrel with the same fiery amber eyes. The Sev'ryn stroked his soft ears without moving to bend in the slightest, before turning her gaze back to the Biqaj.

"Pash Vy'Ryn, meet Sarkis. He's from Karem's own pack, and my companion. Not the same thing as my familiar however." She said softly, unsure what to expect in all honesty. It was frankly, a lot to take in, and more physical than she'd perhaps realised.

[Pash Raj'oriq]

It was a lot to take in, really, from the dark-haired Sev’ryn’s obvious physical changes to the creature—the wolf that wasn’t her familiar and yet was still a spirit of some kind—and one could be generous enough to say that Pash handled it all well, valiantly even. Kali was excited, breathless in the telling of her hunt and disappearing into an Immortal’s own realm. Karem, she said, though the tall Biqaj had never heard of her. He wasn’t a hunter and most of his people growing up had lived by the sea, not the forest or the land, so there were probably a handful of Immortals he’d heard the names of once or twice but never known.

Still, his lover had never mentioned her by name, either, and Pash was aware already the Sev’ryn were Moseke’s people. Karem had marked her, blessed her, made her a Wolf-Walker? The Immortal of the Hunt and Wolves and what else, he wondered. The change in eye color … the fangs … the wolf … those were the signs of her mark? Pash might have swallowed audibly, watching her with a blue-eyed gaze that was stormy and conflicted, though his smile didn’t fade because it was obvious that Kali was overflowing with a happiness and excitement that he knew and understood, that he’d felt himself when Zanik had eaten a dinner at Cally’s, had talked with him, and had played his grandfather’s old lute. But the signs of his mark were subtle—a glow, an aura of sorts—and so were the other marks he’d seen: Famula’s tattoos, Vri’s nail ornamentation, Qylios’ rings of light.

He bit his lip for a trill or two, looking, inhaling, exhaling slowly, not needing his magical sight at all to practically see the bright and vibrant colors of Kali’s feelings as she stood there with her fingers brushing the large wolf’s fur, a creature that could go unseen at will.

Pash had never kept pets, only named plants. Kali shared his bed, his sloop, and Niv shared his lemon tree, Ellis. Following that logic, well, now the seafaring musician was a dog person. A wolf person, to be precise. So long as it liked him, anyway. Land mammals made him weary, though giant sea mammals were admittedly a bit worse.

He laughed, a little loud and more awkward than usual, hands lifting to curl sawdusty fingers into his hair as he released his confusion through humor. His concerned expression washed away into a grin because while Pash could be accused of a bit of superficiality in his Biqaj confidence and easy distraction, he also had made the very distinct and blinding decision to love the woman on his deck who was glowing with enthusiasm and wildly dirty from some Immortal’s own forested domain—

What difference did all the little things make, anyway? None of them were unattractive so much as strange. He loved her, and it was inspiring and beautiful to see an Immortal take notice of her in a way that he knew for himself. Well, were the fangs dangerous? He was willing to find out.

—He’d been quiet a bit longer than his lover was probably comfortable with, unable to hide the process of working everything out from the expressions on his face. So he stepped past the low rise of the cabin’s roof to meet her at the tiller, his warm smile genuine even if there was a flash of caution in his eyes at the wolf,

“No’ a familiar. Jus’ Sarkis.” Pash repeated quietly while he offered a hand to the wolf for it to sniff instead of reaching to touch it right away, not unfamiliar with dogs back home but knowing this was a different animal entirely, but still he talked to the wolf like he’d talk to his plants, naturally assuming it enjoyed conversation, “Es’jah, Sarkis. I hope y’ like boats an’ water an’ music, ‘cause that’s what I got ‘round here ‘sides Kali.”

He’d pet the wolf if it let him, vaguely aware that behind the ears was a favorable place, not shy so much as curious as to whether or not the spirit wolf really felt solid and alive. His other hand reached up to tuck wild strands of windswept hair from Kali’s face, palm brushing her cheek as he met her new but not unwelcome amber gaze with a sincere expression of admiration and unblemished adoration,

“Unexpected, eh? Th’ mouse, I mean.” Pash’s grin grew mischievous, “‘Cause really it’s ‘bout time some Immortal admitted that you’re a pretty damn good huntress.” He chuckled, his hushed baritone nothing but honest of course, and leaned to kiss her feral self with very unashamed and assuring curiosity, both congratulatory and exploratory in his typical insatiable fashion.

[Kali'rial]

33rd Saun, 717

Kali watched him.

And waited.

The silence between them was like endless arcs, the waves crashing and occasional calls from the dock workers breaking it up a little, but not in a way that mattered. The taller sunkissed man couldn't hide his feelings from her, smile unchanged by eyes stormy and a telltale sign he wasn't entirely okay. Not just yet.

Immortal's, don't let this change them. Her heart began to sink as the silence dragged on, a furred warmth pressed against her leg as the wolf sensed her emotions turning.

Finally, the Biqaj laughed oddly, a grin on his face and more importantly his eye color shifting to something far more familiar and far more favourable. The huntress smiled as Pash reached out to Sarkis, the large canine taking a few minutes to catch the man's scent and process it, before leaning into the tentative strokes with a soft sound between a groan and a growl.

Ear strokes were nice.

Looking into the bards gaze with her own new orange one, Kali'rial searched his face with a slightly unsure smile as his hand brushed to move her hair and rest on her cheek. As he spoke, her smile widened into a broad grin, welcoming his curious kiss with enthusiasm and a giggle.

"Thank you. Thank you for not freaking out." She muttered against his mouth, knowing full well where the sailors mind was able to go as she nipped his lower lip ever so gently, not wanting to cause damage. Pulling back slightly, the Sev'ryn knelt down to come face to face with the wolf, burying her fingers in his thick fur as she looked up at Pash.

"I don't know if what's happened will displease Moseke, but I can't give it back. I couldn't." Turning back to Sarkis, she stroked his cheeks with her thumbs as the large creature licked her jaw.

"We are a pack now, all of us. Even if this Pash doesn't hear me, he is part of us too. Nothing comes between a pack Kali'rial." The huntress couldn't resist planting a kiss on his muzzle, before standing up again to beam at Pash.

"He says we're all one pack now. Us three together, looking out for each oth-" Before she could finish her sentence, Sarkis lept up to place his paws on Pash's chest and gave the Biqaj a wet lick, as though cementing the comment, before dropping down again with a shake of his head and moving away to explore more of the sloop. The southerner looked at the tanned man with a smile and a shrug, as if to say 'see'?

[Pash Raj'oriq]

This was okay.

Animals were mostly okay.

Pash had been around dogs and cats before. Horses, too. He just didn’t like horses. A wolf wasn’t a dog—it was a wild beast. A free and feral thing, but this one was one of Karem’s. It was different, obviously. But it still liked ear scratches, so it couldn’t be so bad. The tall Biqaj may have even smiled a little, warily, at the wolf’s noise of approval, realizing as he watched the creature that its eyes matched his lover’s. Interesting, that.

She thanked him then, hardly complaining about his more personal exploration of her physical changes. Teasing him with her fangs elicited a grin and a hum of interest, her purposeful gentleness an enticing promise that stirred further curiosities best saved for later, though between a Tunawa and a rather sentient-seeming wolf, was there even privacy to be had? The tall Biqaj chuckled, never one to shy away from creativity,

“Moseke offended? Ze, I think no’. It seems that th’ Immortals ‘re well aware ‘f each other, an’ though there be fightin’, some ‘f ‘em seem t’ be on th’ same side—ours.” U’Frek was his peoples’ maker and had not been offended by the favor Zanik had bestowed upon the seafaring musician, he offered, though he had no idea the two were cousins, that Immortals had complex relations beyond his understanding. To be cousins, in his mind, meant they had parents. Which meant, of course, there were beings before the Immortals they knew and honored. Whatever that history was, Pash assured the dark-haired Sev’ryn that Moseke would be most honored by Kali’rial choosing to protect life with the abilities granted her through Karem’s mark.

That Kali and Sarkis could communicate was perhaps a little disconcerting and strange for the tall Biqaj, although he knew it was nothing compared to the relationship his lover would some day share with her familiar. That thought was intimidating, and while he smiled at her declaration that her wolf had declared their little trio his pack, he couldn’t help but laugh in sudden surprise when the larger than normal beast jumped and licked him.

Perhaps he would have shouted in fear or surprise had the situation been different, but he only chuckled awkwardly, caught off-guard but not offended,

“Qes, a pack, eh? Qy’akot—ki-ah-koth—means family in Rakahi, family o’ th’ heart an’ no’ jus’ blood relation.” His expression was somewhat wistful, and for a moment his lagoon blue gaze drifted away toward the water instead of Kali’rial’s face, the word a strong one, inclusive, literally clan of the heart. Blinking, he glanced back down at the spirit wolf, Karem’s gift, and then back to the dark-haired Sev’ryn who now bore her mark with a warmer grin.

Family, indeed.

[Pegasus]

Kali'rial

Overview

I love Kali! I love how earnest and brave and honest and funny she is all in one. I love how you write her and those little details like being a "Wolf-Walker" and the very formal introduction. Great thread - pleased I got to review it since I stalked it too!

Points

XP: 15

Fame:None requested

Loot

None requested

Knowledge

Running: Pushing through the undergrowth to keep pace
Velduris: Pack Bond - Talking to your pack telepathically
Velduris: Pack Bond - Familiar can move to spirit form at will
Velduris: Sense Of Prey - Sensing small prey animals in hiding
Rhetoric: Questioning religious motivation and jealousy
Socialisation: Excitement makes you babble
Rakahi Pidgin: Qy'akot (family)

Non-Skill:
Pash: Accepted as part of your pack by Sarkis
Pash: Accepted Sarkis
Pash: Is able to make anything dirty if given half a chance

Pash

Overview

Oh, good old Pash, rollin' with the punches! I really enjoyed reading Pash in this thread, his yearning to understand, his insatiable curiosity and that slightly-too-loud laugh that made him feel younger. Great writing, really enjoyed it.

Points

XP: 15

Fame: None requested

Loot

None requested

Knowledge

Caregiving: Ignoring physical changes because love is bigger than that
Carpentry: Small saw for a small job
Carpentry: Sketching your plans before building
Carpentry: Glue is messy
Psychology: A good relationship is built on acceptance
Rhetoric: Every blessing story is different
Seafaring: Creating a canopy for shade aboard a sloop
Seduction: Fangs are a'right

Other Knowledge:
Immortal: Karem, Immortal of The Hunt, Survival, and Wolves

Kali’rial: Favored by Karem
Kali’rial: Made you a dog wolf person
Sarkis: Kali’rial’s spirit wolf companion
Sarkis: Has made you part of the pack