Dancing with Snowflakes [joining/open]

[masquerade]

Small, iridescent crystals fell tentatively from the dull gray cloudy sky at a steady pace. They seemed to Masquerade that they sparkled on their way down, like a star falling from the heavens. The little ivory femme watched in awe as one sprinkled down from the colorless clouds and landed on the tip of her nose. A tiny shiver went down her spine as the ice particle made contact with her rough black nose.

“Cold.” A faint whisper escaped through her muzzle as she examined the snowflake, crossing her bicolored eyes with the effort. The tiny frozen specimen melted into water, receiving a startled gasp from the two year old she-wolf.

Masquerade acted as if she had never seen snow before, or felt its chilling touch, but it was quite the opposite really. She was born in snow on the first of winter, and all of her siblings had died from the freezing temperatures. But to the alabaster wolfess, watching snowflakes was like watching a miracle. Seeing millions and millions of miniscule icy crystals falling from the sky out of nowhere, the way they stung like a tiny pinprick yet left a chilling sensation when they touched bare flesh, when they clotted together in her fur and made her look like a giant snowball. It all excited and awed Masquerade. Even the cool temperature that the snowflakes brought filled the femme with joy. It made her feel happier, more alive.

A tiny rustle in the undergrowth drew Masque out of her thoughts. Both ears perked up at the small sound, instantly becoming alert and swiveling back and forth on the top of her crystal dusted head. A fluffy white rabbit sat in the cover of a leafless bush, its leg muscles taunt and ready to bounce into action at a moment’s notice. The creature blended in flawlessly with its surroundings, yet the ivory wolf spotted a pair of beady black dots on its head with her own crimson and icy blue eyes. The rabbit was well-fed and was close enough that Masquerade might be able to snatch it before it hopped too far. She quickly averted her eyes from the animal as to not frighten it away, and then began to get into her hunting mode. She had to focus on staying focused (the snowflakes were still calling to her), then sharpened all of her senses and attuned them to her target.

Taking a deep breath in through her nose, a musky scent lingered in her nostrils, making the alabaster fae stop cold. That scent… it was strangely familiar. Masquerade took another tentative sniff before her mind finally registered the smell. It was a pack. She had tumbled inside the boundaries of a wolf pack. Before, the young she-wolf had been so focused of the white flecks in the sky that she failed to notice that she had walked right into another’s territory. Masque paused after that thought, then backtracked. She had entered a wolf’s pack lands. It was the first she had stumbled upon since she arrived at this new continent. It had been a long time since the arctic femme has seen another animal her species and just thinking about meeting one lifted her mood up higher than any successful kill could.

Rabbit forgotten, Masquerade picked herself back up and lifted her cream muzzle towards the iridescent sparkles in the sky, letting out a beautiful soft melodic howl that bounced off of the frost covered trees and seemed to ring in the air even after the echo was long gone.

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[atrb=background,http://img51.imageshack.us/img51/3523/orfmid.png] Clouds of labored breaths dissipated into the frozen air as a haggard, lone wolf limped into the lush forest. A black being rose out from the powdered ground, stumbling over the frozen crystals of water that had collected on the floor. The greenery around was always completely covered in white, as the petals of snow drifted down lightly into the scenery. The gloomy skies reflected into golden orbs, the life seemingly lost in eyes that used to hold so much hope. Had Orfeo not been so feeble, he may have commented pleasurably on the snow. It was not his first sighting of it, nor does he entirely hate it, but now it hinders him from life. His legs drag through the dense layer as he heavily wheezed, his lungs desperate to keep the brute going. Everything was gone. Everything he had known had left him. His family he lived with for only several weeks, his loving caretaker from the circus that was consumed by the ravenous fire, Toiro who had greeted him not too long ago who he had befriended, and his companions the red wolf, Wren, and the Arctic wolf, Seraphia. One by one, they left him to live on his own, but he could barely do that. He was constantly spoiled and relying on others, and once all connection to them was lost, so was his opportunity to survive. His belly didn’t even have the energy to growl. It simply emitted a small groan before shutting up, giving up on the black wolf. He has failed to find anything to eat, and the last thing he had eaten was from Seraphia, whose whereabouts were unknown to Orfeo. His muscles that once flexed so beautifully in the circus light had disappeared. The shiny coat was messy and unkempt, loosing its usual luster. He was, in short, a terrible mess. A giant, black fur ball of death. Orfeo didn’t stop moving, though. He kept on going forward, to where he did not even know. Perhaps on his way to eat, finally. His drooping eyes took another glance towards the sky, but his neck was too weak and it hang back down again. Not too far… right? The thought of death never crossed his mind. Orfeo, the black wolf of the circus, death from starvation? Unthought-of. Impossible. Just can’t happen. That’s what he thought, until his legs collapsed under him. His knees buckled and his whole body had tumbled into the puff of snow that lay below him. His lack of fur on his body allowed the fragments of ice to touch his body, making him shiver violently. This won’t do… he had to get back up. His eyes shone with renewed vigor as his legs trembled beneath him, trying to support the weight with the little muscle that he still had. Pitifully, they were not enough, and he collapsed into the snow once again. He sighed, and decided that a break may just be what he needed. Black eyelids threatened to close over his yellow eyes, the snow falling so peacefully around him. Had he not noticed this before? It was rather beautiful. He has seen an act before called “The Nutcracker”. It was a classic among family members and it was only shown during the wintertime when the snow fell freely and the children hoped for their wonderful holidays to come. It was a rather wonderful play, although he did not really understand much of it at all. Just people dancing all around in tutus. Lost in his memories, he began to fall asleep. The nap he so dearly wanted has come to him, beckoning with sweet dreams of a warm fire and a tasty hot steak to feast on. A light pat on his head, and he only had to look up to find his caretaker. All around him, his parents were smiling at him. His brother bowed in a challenge of play. Toiro gave that unique look of kindness. And Wren and Seraphia were snapping at each other. He was so lost that he didn’t even notice when his ears gave an involuntary flicker of acknowledgement toward a howl that whistled not too far away. He didn't even notice that he was back in the territory of a companion he had met not too long ago.

[Toiro]

The alpha was doing border patrol again. It wasn’t a bad job, really, as it was rather peaceful being out here all alone with only his thoughts for company. Plus it gave him the chance to admire his home; and explore it too, as the snow changed the terrain more than one would have expected. Speaking of which, it was snowing again today; not heavily, but enough to cause him to stop once in a while to shake off the white powder accumulating in his thick grey fur. It was close to mid-winter now, but he knew from experience that the temperature would still continue to get colder as the days passed. They hadn’t yet had a bad storm this year, but the grey was almost certain that they would have one soon. Luckily the caves of Lerelm remained at a fairly constant temperature year round – and had the added bonus of having a supply of water deep inside them – so being stuck inside the dens wasn’t terrible.

As Toiro paused to give his pelt another shake, a beautiful feminine howl caught his ears. The wolf who had called didn’t sound as if she was too far away – only a little further along the border. Immediately he began trotting in her direction, keen to meet the stranger who had entered his lands. But so focused was he on greeting the newcomer that he didn’t notice the familiar scent drifting on the breeze. He had seen Orfeo off at the border a while ago now and although he sometimes wondered how the strange wolf was doing, he didn’t expect him to come back. Even if his subconscious mind had recognised the scent it would have been dismissed as nothing but a wistful a memory, so the grey wolf continued on, oblivious.

As the femme who had howled came into sight, the first thing he noticed was her pure white fur. Arctic, by the looks of it (as if he was an expert), so she would likely do well in the coldest climate on Anikira. Then Toiro noticed her eyes. The small she wolf had the strangest eyes he’d ever seen; one pale blue and one red. He’d never even heard of such a thing before, so they intrigued him greatly. His own eyes were so dull compared to these, and often gave him the appearance of being very serious, which he certainly was not.

“Hello,” Toiro smiled, tail swinging peacefully behind him. Today, he was cheerful, perhaps because of the beautiful snow falling around them, or perhaps because of this interesting twist in his day. New wolves always put him in a good mood, especially ones who had summoned him. Well, he supposed this could always just be a simple request to pass through the territory, but he couldn’t help sizing her up as he wondered whether she could be interested in becoming a member of his pack.

Size-wize, she was much smaller than Toiro, but then again he was very large for his species and it wasn’t often that he came across wolves bigger than he was. But size didn’t matter to him, as he knew that it did not equate to strength. Just take him as an example of it; he’d barely had any fighting experience in his life and was near useless at it. No, what he was looking for was personality. Honour and loyalty were very important to the large grey wolf, and he would not tolerate aggression between his members. Even though first impressions often did not give much insight into one’s personality, the young she-wolf seemed pleasant, and he was interested in talking to her. First thing first though.

“What business do you have here in the lands of the Airila pack?”




. ((OOC: either she could notice Orfeo's scent or Orfeo could wake up after hearing the voices?))

[masquerade]

Silence engulfed the white capped forest soon after the young ivory femme finished her final notes and dropped her muzzle. It was a full and complete silence, the kind that could only happen in the dead of winter when the birds had flown south and the smaller creatures had scurried into their homes to sleep the winter out. Only the snowshoe hares and the occasional deer remained, yet no sound escaped through their mouths as they quietly maneuvered through the frozen wonderland. Without the constant background sounds of birds chirping, squirrels scurrying to collect nuts, and bears lumbering through the trees, the forest seemed empty, almost dead.

Masquerade enjoyed the silence; she welcomed it like a dear friend. Her mind was constantly abuzz and always thinking, so it was always nice to just sit in the serene solitude. A cool breeze brushed by, tangling her alabaster pelt and showering her with a fresh wave of soft powdered crystals. The small arctic she-wolf breathed in deeply, filling her lungs with icy air that seemed to refresh her entire body. Scents came along with it, hundreds of scents both old and some fairly recent. The wetness of the fluffy power covering the ground only enhanced the many smells, assaulting her nose with powerful aromas that her mind couldn’t comprehend at once. That was why the snow clad female didn’t realize there was a wolf close by until it was too late.

A greeting sounded from behind her, the voice masculine with a hint of cheerfulness to it. Masquerade, unused to being taken by surprise, jumped slightly. Her body tensed on impulse as she turned around to face the wolf who had spoken. Duel colored eyes took in the wolf’s appearance quickly. His large stature, his gray, black, and cream pelted body; his steel gray eyes, and most of all his calm, unguarded posture with his thick tail wagging behind him and a friendly smile on his muzzle. Seeing this, the pale femme let her muscles relax. Of course someone would have come. She had called for them, after all. She just hadn’t expected for one to show up so soon, or had her mind wondered off for longer than she had thought?

A tentative smile spread across her maw as her ruby and aqua eyes met the brute’s silvery pair. Although his tone and posture told the alabaster fae that the male was friendly and open, his serious gaze told otherwise. She wondered if the wolf in front of her was really as austere as his eyes depicted him, or if it was just the way he looked.

"What business do you have here in the lands of the Airila pack?" The brute asked. So she was in pack territory. And what a beautiful name it had! Masquerade wondered if it had a meaning behind it, or if it was just simply a pretty name. And the way the wolf said the statement, with some sort of authority, made the small arctic female think that he held some sort of power within the pack. The alpha or beta maybe? Or maybe it was just in his personality, she couldn’t be sure. She was never good at reading wolves, especially ones that she just met.

"I didn’t mean to travel into your pack lands, for that I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying much attention to my surroundings." She admitted, looking down at the snowflakes covering the ground, being reminded once again of their uncanny beauty, before returning her mix matched gaze to the wolf. "The Airila pack’s territory is very beautiful from what I have seen so far, especially with the snow." Masque voiced her thoughts, "Would you accept one new member?" Nervous anticipation built up inside her as she awaited the male’s answer. Of course, if he said no she would leave and be on her way, but she couldn’t deny that she would had enjoyed living in this land with its cold temperatures and frozen falling crystals.

As if sensing her thoughts, the wind picked up its speed, playfully ruffling her fur. It was then she noticed the faint scent in the air. A wolf, not too far away. It wasn’t the brute’s standing in front of her. Maybe it was another pack member? But that seemed unlikely, as it was coming from the wrong direction. "Is one of your packmates coming?" Masquerade asked the male, curiosity winning over.

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ooc:: Sorry it took so long to post! I've been really busy this week and could barely log on at all.

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[atrb=background,http://img51.imageshack.us/img51/3523/orfmid.png] Orfeo’s ears flickered, going up and down toward the rhythm of the voices he faintly heard in the distance. He liked that sound, the sound of conversation. He often listened to the laughter and stories of the others from the circus, but these voices were a bit different. They were exchanging not stories and jokes, but one was announcing authority, which was so very familar, and the other was apologizing. Orfeo did not hear that combination often, usually that meant something along the lines of “getting fired”. It was a cursed word that everyone he knew dreaded, and the curiosity pulled him from his almost forever slumber. One by one, his figments disappeared, his companions leaving him. Then the fire died out, and the logs of which they were burning upon had faded away, darkness consuming his mind. His eyes rolled and rolled before he squeezed at his eyelids shut to make them closed. Oh, they were already closed. The creature opened his eyes groggily, the chilled air hitting him smack into his skin and he trembled even more violently than before. Sounds, he heard sounds not too far away. The sounds of words, speech, speaking. His eyes opened even wider, had he really fallen asleep? No, Orfeo, that would most certainly not do. The sky challenged him even more and dumped more and more icy snow on his body, and Orfeo finally considered that he could possibly die out here. Yes, the “darkness of the night” will perish in the snow… if he didn’t start moving his large body. With a grunt and a heave, Orfeo wobbled on his legs to stand. His persistence is admirable, but it was still insufficient and he fell down to the ground once again. Gravity was always against him. When he failed stunts, it was usually gravity who failed it for him, making him stumble onto the ground to lay defeated. But did Orfeo give up then? Of course not. Again, he tried to stand up, his legs trembling from the effort. His eyes were focused and determined, the black body rising from the snow. Orfeo stood for a few moments, wondering if he would collapse again, but he stayed upright. Yes, this was good. He almost smiled to himself with the small victory, his pride filling him up with energy. Orfeo looked out ahead of him, and remembered that he had heard voices. Perhaps those voices could be his new companions, and he had forgotten about how he had lost most of his partners over time. Just as he took a single step, his legs slipped under the snow and he sank pathetically back into the snow. This was a lot harder than he thought it would be. But he wouldn’t give up over a small fall, he stood up again, this time was a little easier, and shuffled very slowly towards the other wolves. They could not see him yet, for he was moving very slowly, always standing up, taking a step, and then falling back down. It was almost a comical display, rather than one of valor and triumph. Whatever the wolves thought of it, Orfeo knew that he had, yet again, beaten another challenge. His energy completely drained, he could not say anything to the wolves, and he finally stumbled so that he could not stand up again. He tried, but he could not stand no matter what he did, so he lay there to conserve his energy. Perhaps the other wolves would had noticed him already. His amber eyes looked into the sky and he gave a sigh that greeted him in a cloud, only to dissipate into the wintry air. It was surely beautiful.

[Toiro]

The white she wolf seemed a little surprised to see him there, but she quickly relaxed and offered him a small smile. She apologised for entering his lands and he nodded, accepting her words as sincere. “That’s alright. I was just on my way to refresh the markers; they often get dulled by the snow.” Toiro didn’t think he’d ever driven a wolf off the territory before, so even if he had found her right next to the dens it was likely that she would have been escorted out with only a few reproachful words. The Airila alpha was simply not a violent wolf; however, that didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate respect.

He definitely agreed with Masquerade’s statement that the snowy territory was beautiful; he may be a tiny bit biased, but in his opinion Shyia was the most perfect territory in the whole of Anikira. The Airila pack was truly blessed to have it as their home. Of course, even though it was extremely beautiful, winter was the harshest time of year for them – most of the prey had moved south to better food and warmer temperatures, and the snowstorms and avalanches could be deadly. The alpha loved this season though. Something about it reminded him of being a pup… The snow, after all, was great to play in.

The lone femme then asked whether the pack would welcome another member. “Why, yes, I believe we would.” Toiro’s fluffy grey tail wagged behind him as he smiled cheerfully at the possible new member. The pack was getting pretty large now, and once this wolf was accepted he would be content with their size. But in all his excitement he’d almost forgotten introductions, and he couldn’t welcome a wolf into his family without knowing her name.

“What are you called? I’m Toiro, the alpha of these lands.” His posture wasn’t as dominant as most alphas’ would be; Airila was a much more relaxed pack in terms of ranks. Oh, he supposed he should also ask if she had any skills that could benefit the pack straight away or whether she would prefer to take the position of subordinate for now. “Do you have strengths in any particular area?” Airila seemed to have a lot of warriors, and only one official hunter, so a hunter would certainly be welcome. Every wolf was valued though, especially with Descai lingering at their borders.

And then she asked something about one of his packmates approaching. “Hm?” the grey was confused by the sudden question, but then the breeze swept past him and he caught the scent. “Oh. No, that’s not one of my packmates...” How had he not noticed before? This was his territory; he should be the one picking up strange scents. But… this scent wasn’t really that strange, and actually seemed rather familiar, although he knew for a fact that it wasn’t one of his packmates. “Excuse me,” Toiro flicked his tail, letting Masquerade know that she should follow him, then began cautiously making his way through the forest towards the wolf, paws crunching softly in the icy white powder.

When he came within sight of the intruder, he stopped short. “Orfeo?!” Toiro stared at the dark form lying collapsed in the snow, surprise written all across his features. “What are you doing here?” He wasn’t sure whether he was happy or sad to see the foreigner back here again; it was terrible to see the once-proud and relaxed wolf in such a state. Showing the loner off his territory didn’t seem to have been a good idea; the outside world had treated this wolf harshly, judging by the male’s unkempt fur and skinny figure. Well, the alpha certainly couldn’t leave him like this; Orfeo needed attention.




((OOC: sorry it's so choppy))

[masquerade]

The brute standing in front of her was friendly, Masquerade decided. His kind and open demeanor made him comfortable to be around, and his smile was almost contagious. His steely eyes, that were serious at first glance, now seemed to hold a glint of delight that made the wolf seem younger, rather than older. His comment about refreshing the markers lead the arctic female to believe that the wolf held a higher up positive in the Airila pack, yet he didn’t seem to act very dominant. The thought that this brute might be her Alpha, or at least Beta, lifted her mood up even higher. She wouldn’t have liked an overly aggressive or controlling Alpha to lead her.

The white, icy snowflakes that fell from the dull, unsaturated sky started to clump as they neared the blanketed earth, forming decent sized powdery snowballs. The alabaster femme watched as one after the other landed upon the large male’s thick winter coat as he responded to her inquiries. She couldn’t help but wag her tail after hearing that they would accept another member. A faint smile spread across her creamy muzzle as she welcomed the thought of becoming a member of a pack once again.

The brute then introduced himself of Toiro, and as she had suspected, the Alpha. The name suited the grey wolf very well, like most names often do. It seemed to capture his kind and gentle personality, yet also his extremely large structure. "My name is Masquerade." The small ivory she wolf replied. Her own name was well suited to her too, as she often moved as if dancing and spoke in a melodic, sing-song voice. "I am quite adequate at hunting, if I do say so myself. I am quick on my feet, and I know some effective hunting techniques." Masque hoped that Toiro didn’t come to the conclusion that she was bragging about her skills, because she certainly was not. Running was just one of the few things that she found enjoyable and that she was quite good at. Now, if the Alpha had questioned about her fighting skills, that would have been another story.

The brute seemed confused that Masque had asked about another wolf approaching until the scent reached his own nostrils. Though what came out of his mouth next stated that that particular canine wasn’t part of the pack, the ivory female thought she saw a certain look cross his face. Recognition, maybe? The arctic dame hoped that it wasn’t an intruder looking for a fight, or someone wishing harm upon this pack. Though she wasn’t a member yet, she still felt connected to them somehow, even though she had only conversed with their alpha for a short amount of time.

The Grey excused himself, turning towards the general direction of the scent, his large paws marring the pristine blanket of white. Masquerade lifted her own delicate alabaster paw, gently placing it in the alpha’s deep pawprint, which was nearly twice the size. The tiny ice crystals crunched softly under her pads as she followed after Toiro, her tail lapping against her ankles. She stopped suddenly when the brute shouted a name. Orfeo, was it? Her duel colored eyes swept over the collapsed figure.

The young she wolf recognized the brute’s scent as being the invader’s, but this poor creature was not what she was expecting. His body lay crumpled in the snow, his ragged black fur barely showed under a thick layer of snowflakes, and his beautiful amber eyes stared unfocussed up into the sky. Masque took a step closer to Orfeo, concern written all over her features and her head tilted to the right slightly. This poor wolf looked nearly dead! He probably hadn’t had a decent sized meal for a long time. She scolded herself for not catching that rabbit, for this brute most certainly needed it.

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[atrb=background,http://img51.imageshack.us/img51/3523/orfmid.png] A twitch of his ear made the black wolf aware of the nearby presence of another wolf. Someone was coming through the snow toward him. Perhaps it was one of the wolves who was conversing before. The brute again tried to muster up his strength to stand, but his foot only trembled violently before allowing his weight to plummet back into the white powder. Ah, he must greet the wolves while lying on the ground now. So be it. As a way to determine who the wolf was, Orfeo breathed deeply through his nose, then exhaled. A familiar scent stayed in his nose, opening up a faint memory like a flower. First came the presence of the bulb, or the memory itself. Then came the green, the foundation, the scent that placed the memory there, and then there was the flower, slowly opening him up to his mental notes. His memory told him of many things, but it was a slow process, and the wolf found himself staring off into space. Another wolf. Sniff. One that he had met before. Sniff. A male. The territory. Alpha. Toiro. The flower had bloomed. Toiro! He had not seen the friendly alpha in a long time, and the thought of his companion being nearby made Orfeo perk up a little. Orfeo had forgotten about his disability and tried to stand up again, and a bewilder expression covered his face when he found himself slipping back with a thump onto the ground. Right, he was not able to stand right now. Orfeo felt his legs sting and wondered if he even made matters worse by pulling his non-existent muscle, which he had done several times while he was still part of the circus. He tried moving his leg in different directions, but all made his ears flash back to the shock of the pain that jolted through them. This was not a good sign, he concluded. Again, his ears perked up, and with his eyes trained into the direction of the sound, Orfeo found a familiar face treading toward him. He gave a small smile and his tail wagged involuntarily. But for some reason, Toiro seemed rather shocked to see Orfeo here. Well, it wasn’t actually the shocked expression that made Orfeo confused, but the slight look of sadness that flickered over the alpha’s face. Was there something wrong? Orfeo was about to speak when a female had walked into view. Orfeo’s eyes widened a bit, for he had not realized that she had been following Toiro. Orfeo hadn’t been paying as much attention after seeing Toiro, he supposed. The snow covered the black wolf eagerly, replacing what the brute had shaken off in his attempts to stand. He blinked away at some, but the quickly piled back onto his eye lashes again, and Orfeo was reminded that it was harsh and bitter outside, and he definitely had a high chance of freezing to death. Orfeo glanced at the two with his amber eyes, bright eyes inquisitive and pleased. He gave a wheezing chuckle, seeming almost crazed, and blurted bluntly, “I did not think that I’d see you so soon, Signore Toiro.” It amused him, definitely. He did not even seem to care that he was in such a weakened state. His eyes turned to the female, who had strange colored eyes, one being one color, and the other being a different color. Her white fur made her look like a ghost in the snowy scenery, and he almost wondered if he was simply imagining things. That Toiro and the female was simply a figment of his mind. He coughed a bit, his old and weakened lungs beginning to burn and sting as if he was breathing in needles. Oh wait, he had forgotten to greet the white she-wolf, “And hello to you, signorina,” he gave a small smile, and gazed out into the sky, the snow drifting softly down to kiss his head, “It is, eh… a beautiful day today, is it not?” He then shifted his lying position, trying to scramble to his feet. For sure, this time he will stand. But his legs burned with such intensity that he had to grunt in pain and sink back down to the snow. He chuckled at his own misfortune, “It seems as though I’ve… eh, got myself in some trouble.” He sighed pathetically, feeling everything weigh down on him. He really would like a nap right now.

[Toiro]

Orfeo’s eyes seemed to light up at the sight of the two approaching wolves and his tail wagged. He admitted cheerfully that he didn’t expect to see Toiro again so soon, and commented that it was a beautiful day. The big grey wolf nodded, but stayed silent, once again bewildered by the loner’s strange mannerisms. At least he wasn't using so many foreign words.

“Can you walk, Orfeo?” If he could they would hopefully be able to get him to a warmer spot; the mountains were not too far from here, and he knew of a few places which could serve as shelter. Toiro and Masquerade could support him if he needed help, although the she wolf might find it difficult as she was still much smaller than the starved male.

But it seemed that wasn’t going to be a problem they would have to solve. Orfeo tried to struggle to his paws, but almost immediately collapsed again into the snow. That leg looked pretty bad, and if he couldn’t make it to somewhere warmer there was a high chance that he would die out here.

Then the male stated that he was in a bit of trouble, as if that wasn’t apparent already. Toiro wondered about the slightly amused tone to Orfeo’s voice; did he not realise how much trouble he was in? Well, that was believable, he supposed... The foreigner hadn’t seemed very used to the ways of the wild when the alpha had first met him. Perhaps he didn’t quite realise just how dangerous starvation and weakness could be, and didn’t know that the beautiful white flakes falling from the sky could freeze a wolf to death. Toiro snorted softly. He had lost packmates to the snow before, good wolves, ones equipped with much more survival knowledge than the dark coated male seemed to have. But Orfeo had something the others didn’t: luck. He’d stumbled into the territory of the most soft-hearted alpha on the continent.

Toiro tipped his head towards the sky and howled, “Aludra. I think we may require your assistance here. A wolf has stumbled into our territory; he’s very cold and skinny and doesn’t seem able to walk.” He wasn’t very good at diagnosing problems, but he hoped that that was enough information so that the shaman could figure out which herbs to bring with her if she needed any. Once his howl had ended, Toiro settled himself down in the snow beside Orfeo, close so that their warmth was shared.

Medical attention was hopefully on its way, and the alpha’s thick fur should help protect against some of the cold, so the most important thing that Orfeo needed now was food.

Grey eyes lifted up towards the white female who was the newest member of Airila. “Masquerade? Would you mind checking out the area around us for prey? I don’t think he’ll last much longer with nothing to eat.” He was sorry that he’d been focused mainly on Orfeo up until now, instead of getting to know the she wolf better, but he hoped she understood. At least this was a good opportunity to test her hunting skills, and if she succeeded in bringing back something he might be able to promote her to hunter.

She’d told him that she was adequate at hunting, and he believed that she was telling the truth, but he didn’t know where on the spectrum she fit in and whether she was over- or under-valuing her abilities. In any case, Airila needed hunters because of the scarcity of food in winter, and even if Masquerade could only find one rabbit a month that would at least help to take off some of the pressure. Perhaps they shouldn’t waste the efforts of a hunter by giving their catch to Orfeo, but even though as an alpha he held no responsibility towards a loner (especially one who was technically trespassing) he couldn’t just leave him here to die. Toiro was a compassionate wolf, and anything reasonable he could do to help, he would.



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[atrb=background,http://img607.imageshack.us/img607/6300/alumid.png] The dens had been a warm haven to the femme today, in fact she had spent most of her time organizing her herbs. The ones that had withered would be disposed of, if they could not be used for anything else, and newer ones were being stashed away. Organization had always been important to the medic, especially when it came to her own dealings. Ivory pelt was ruffled and warm, the femme was planning on enjoying a small meal in the future - when the abrupt call caught her attention. It came from none other than her love, her darling Toiro. Much to her disliking, the message was not bringing her good news. It was not that Aludra disliked helping others, quite frankly she loved it, but the thought of a creature being wounded always brought pain to her heart. 'Cold, skinny, and a potential leg wound,' her thoughts began pounding as her adrenaline began to kick in. A small, dead hare was laying in the corner of the dens - something she had surprisingly managed to catch herself. The shaman knew Cherie was overworked and had been attempting to catch prey whenever she happened to catch scent of it; although, it usually was weak and hardly enough to even be noticeable within the belly of a hungry wolf. Either way, it was a small amount of flesh to nourish a canine. Green eyes scanned her medicines quickly, instantly grabbing a few and managing to form a small bundle. 'I hope these will work,' her paws clumsily moved in her haste, rushing to grab the bundle and the small amount of meat she had. The Arctic femme managed to move a bit swifter once she had gathered her things and set towards the direction of the call. Her brain churning into overtime, the femme nearly forgot to respond. The bundles found themselves upon the ground, muzzle lifted towards her beloved sky, "Sir Toiro, I am on my way." 'I hope I can help,' Aludra wished not to let her love or the loner down. Castien had been saved, hopefully this trespasser could as well. Bundles found themselves secured within her maw once again, paws picking up speed. The forest was not too far off, but it was obvious that she was not the fastest in the pack. For all she knew, the brute would be dead by the time she arrived. It took all of her willpower to keep her mind focused, every passing second meant that this foreign canine was one step closer to death. She was hellbent on saving him. Two silhouettes arose in the distance, one belonging to her beloved and the other a foreign ivory creature much like herself. Both seemed fairly petite, as the shaman drew closer a pang of jealousy nearly shot through her heart. Instantaneously it was countered, the voice of Toiro resonated within her mind. Their time together, 'he cares for me.' The warmth within her heart brought forth another burst of speed, that left the female quite out of breath by the time she ceased movement in front of the three canines. Orfeo was hardly seen from a distance, his crumpled frame hidden among the snowflakes. "My lord," she bowed her head quickly to the Alpha before attention diverted itself. Her muzzle nuzzled her goods closer towards the wounded canine, it was easy to see that he was beyond ravenous. The slender hare found itself lightly pushed near the brute's face, "Please, eat this. You need food most of all right now, I am sorry I could not bring more," panicked optics danced across the terrain. What she brought may keep the brute from dying at this moment, but it would certainly not last him long at all. The shaman passed a glance over the strange female while she permitted Orfeo a moment, audits still attentive towards him, "Hello." Her voice was shy, almost as if she was unprepared to meet any newcomer at all. Orfeo needed her attention immediately, or at least some food for starters, Aludra had hardly given herself a moment to truly acknowledge the others. A shiver rushed up her spine, the shaman could barely calm her mind enough to remember to breathe. It raced when an emergency arose, calculating all options and what to do in the case of almost any wrong turn it could take. She had already searched the area visually, scoped out anything she could potentially need in the event that the foreign brute became any worse. Aludra did not know this canine, but if Toiro requested medical help for him - then she would happily provide it. Although, she would have helped him regardless. "Sir," she studied Orfeo with her vivid emerald optics, "Please eat this as well. It is monkshood." Her paw moved over a very tiny piece of root towards the wounded one. Aludra had brought more, but knew of the toxins that it produced in high doses. She would give him very small amounts at a time, if he needed more than the tiny initial piece. "It'll raise your temperature, we don't want you to freeze." That being said the female took a few calculated steps away from him, she realized how much she had just forced her attention upon him. For a moment she felt bad, instantly she had analyzed his dire need for food and warmth as well. Any sort of broken leg could be dealt with after, for now she needed to stabilize him. Once he was stabilized, the medic could further her aid. A subtle longing glance was passed towards the Alpha, heart jumping in her chest slightly. The desire to snuggle against him, while waiting for Orfeo to consume the items before him, was almost unbearable. Alas, she knew not what the Alpha wished for them. Her distance was kept slightly, even if her heart was always with him. 'I hope there is another hare around,' her mind went back to her patient, praying the food could be brought to him. OoC| Meh, I hope this isn't too bad. I left some room for Masque to show off her hunting skills ;)

[masquerade]

The little white femme couldn’t agree more with Orfeo, who still laid in a heap on the frozen ground. It was cold, but not overly so that you had to huddle in the back of a den. There was a slight breeze that would shift some of your coat and stung your nose, but it wasn’t so bad that it felt like you were being pelted with bee stingers. The snow fell in big fluffy clumps that seemed to give the whole place a wonderland look and landed delicately on the forest floor to join the large unmarred white blanket.

Though, Masquerade realized, it was the very snow that was killing the brute, even he had to marvel at its beauty. Or maybe he was being sarcastic. Or delirious. In that case, Toiro and she better do something quick before the old brute lapsed into hypothermia. It was the same beast that had killed her other siblings, though she could never remember them, and nearly her. The ivory she wolf couldn’t let Orfeo freeze to death too, even though she had only just met the wolf. She couldn’t let another one succumb to hypothermia; it was too much of a long and painful way to go. Masque shivered, as if feeling the cold winter temperature for what it really was for the first time.

The alabaster femme turned to the Alpha for direction. Masquerade had little knowledge of what to do in these situations; she was a hunter, not a gatherer. Maybe they could try to warm up the brute’s body somehow? The young female knew this wouldn’t be enough though, as they wouldn’t be able to warm his body quick enough to elude death. Toiro knew what to do though. He called out for a wolf named Aludra, who Masquerade guessed was the pack shaman, and asked for her assistance before settling in beside Orfeo. Then he addressed Masquerade, asking her to find some food for the poor freezing brute.

The arctic she wolf was just about to leave to scope the area when a responding howl reached her ears. It was Aludra, telling the Alpha she was on her way. Curiosity consumed the young wolf as she listened to the she wolf’s reply. Can a shaman really stop a wolf from freezing? There’s a plant for that? She thought to herself, questions whirling around her head. She could delay her hunting trip for a few moments, right? Surely the shaman would get there in plenty of time so that Masque could watch the doctor work her magic before she’d have to go hunt. The ivory female lagged back, scenting the air for any prey close by as she waited for the shaman to arrive. Curiosity killed the cat, but it didn’t say anything about a wolf, Masque thought, stifling a smile at her own joke to get her mind off the injured wolf.

Masquerade almost missed her when she approached; her fur was as white as the snow. The only thing that gave the shaman away was her brilliant emerald eyes and her beautiful feminine voice as she greeted Toiro. The female didn’t waste any time getting to work on the poor wounded brute. She gave him a lanky rabbit and told him to eat. The small hare reminded the young arctic femme of her own duty, yet she couldn’t bring herself to leave just then. After handing Orfeo the rabbit, Aludra turned her attention towards Masque and said hello in the shy tone of hers before giving the brute a strange looking root she called monkshood. Masquerade nodded a greeting, not wanting to pull the shaman’s attention away from her patient. Then the little ivory she wolf backed away a few steps, turned, and dashed away in search for some prey like a life depended on it. And one did; Orfeo's.

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[atrb=background,http://img51.imageshack.us/img51/3523/orfmid.png] Orfeo blinked lazily as the snow gently kissed his eyelids, his amber orbs gazing upward in a wondering gaze. His eyes turned to Toiro when he was asked if he could walk, and the brute replied with another attempt to stand, slipping into the snow for about the tenth time. He gave a sheepish smile, admitting, “I do not think so, signore.” The brute sighed into the air, but it was whisked away so easily. Similar to how the chill could just take a life in a single swoop from an icy wind. The brute marveled at the idea, forgetting that his life also depended on whether the wind would blow his life away or not. Black ears perked up when the alpha sent a howl into the skies, reaching someone that was probably in the pack. Orfeo’s body shuddered, for he had never heard another wolf howl in a long time, and never this close to him. He heard his own cries before, trained to howl at command by his trainer, amusing just about anyone in the audience who was not deaf. His howls were always empty, though. They were simply for show, they held no meaning or cause except to please the humans. The sound Toiro created was saturated with meaning and thought. It was not just a howl, but it was a message full of information. The dark furred brute was slightly intrigued by his new understanding of howls. He did not know what the howl had said, but perhaps he would eventually learn. He blinked, his eyelids sliding over cold tears, he has much to learn. Orfeo was surprised when the alpha plopped down next to him, sharing his warmth and heat. The dark brute sighed contentedly and leaned instinctively toward Toiro, making the gap between them smaller. Orfeo enjoyed warmth, especially a heater. They can make a whole human house dense with heat. When the circus retired for the winter to open back up in the spring, the black wolf would spend his time in the house of his trainer, filled with affection and relaxation. The black furred wolf found himself longing for the old home of his care taker. He wondered what happened to it now, and who it may belong to now with his master gone from the world. Orfeo lowered his eyelids in concentration, the memories flooding in, even as he was trying to cease them from coming. “Gracie, Toiro. I am even more in your debt, it seems,” he gave a weak, toothy smile, wondering if he was an inconvenience to the alpha. If he was, he was truly regretful for coming here. Twice he came, and twice he had been assisted by Toiro. Perhaps he was truly a nuisance to the pack leader. The thought bothered him a bit, making his nose twitch with the itch of bitter snow piling upon it. He did not wish to become a burden to anyone. The wilderness had been rough on his body, though, and it was not as easy as it had seemed to stay alive in the wild. Orfeo had many opportunities to survive, but every one of them was crumbled into dust as his health deteriorated and his survival knowledge was null. The alpha addressed the female, whose name, Orfeo picked up, was Masquerade. The ivory colored female was spoken to as if she was a member of the pack. Orfeo challenged the mere idea of one, not quite understanding what it was. A circus was where he used to belong, where there were campfires every night and warm food served for the hungry bellies of both animal and man. Stories were exchanged and laughter was abundant then. The brute gazed out into the snowy landscape, feeling suddenly very isolated and alone. Everywhere he was surrounded by space and death, unlike the safety and comfort he had felt back with the circus. Things were different out in the wild, and Orfeo realized that these differences may actually be his demise. His ears flickered and shuddered when he heard a faint reply of a howl back. Again came the sound filled with words, communication with one of the most primitive tools, the wolf’s own mouth and voice. He only picked up that the wolf that responded was female. What were these exchanges of messages for? Orfeo wondered as the group seemed to wait. The question stormed through the dark furred wolf’s mind, taking over his mind like a bull rampaging through a village. What were they waiting for? Were they waiting for someone to come? For something to happen? For his death to come? Death… it suddenly occurred to the black male that death was very close upon him. His breath, he began to notice, was shortening and ragged, his lungs wheezing as it continued to pump oxygen to the wolf’s body. His stomach panged and pained him so, his head tilting forward as he began to react to the throbbing inside his abdomen. Every time the cold wind brushed against his fur, it sent a ripple of intense shuddering throughout his body, the icy cold biting at his skin so that it would numb for a few seconds, only to be assaulted again. He was dying. Orfeo knew that death was always an option when one lived in the wild, but he never understood that it was happening at this very moment. His energy was draining from him quickly, and he suddenly knew the outcome when it could not drain anymore. In a very blunt tone, Orfeo wheezed, “Toiro… am I going to die?” He thought the wise words of the alpha would reassure him that he would live, but even the prideful wolf did not know the answer to his own question anymore. His life could end, and asking the alpha was only a way to confirm it. Before the circus wolf could think anymore of the impending doom, the shadow of another wolf coming toward them caught his attention. It was another ghostly figure of a white pelted wolf, streaming through the snow as if it was nothing. Her eyes held a determined glare, as if she had something she must do. The dark wolf wondered why the female had come, when she approached him. He smiled, always remembering to be polite to females, and acknowledged her after her small greeting, “Ciao, signorina.” His voice was weak, but it held the same friendliness to it as it always had. The female’s eyes shined with an intensity Orfeo had seen many times before. She was gauging him, finding all the details and thinking in her brain. He had seen it in the eyes of acrobats, when they had to calculate when to release their grip, how much to spin and curve their bodies, how to keep the audience alive with anticipation. He looked down at the rabbit that was given to him. Orfeo’s lips curled downward into a small frown, as he looked toward the alpha in a confused way, “Signore, did you not tell me all your food should go to your family?” The rabbit lay untouched, already accumulating snow on top of its small figure. One of the many things Orfeo had learned while he stayed with humans was to always listen to what others told him to do. Toiro had once told him to hunt somewhere else for his pack to keep the prey in his lands. Orfeo abided by his request, but was now the right time to break it? His golden eyes stared at the small mammal in hunger, his maw already drooling. His mind and body were in a deep conflict with one another. Only after the alpha’s response would allow one side to win the battle, but which one would it be? Again, the female had told him to consume something. This time it was a plant, an herb that smelled bitter, as if poisonous. Nonetheless, he obliged with the female’s commands this time and licked the small root up into his mouth and swallowed, making a distasteful face. His scrunched up face began to relax as heat seemed to spread from his belly to his chest, then his arms and legs, then his face. It was as if something was coming alive inside of him, feeding him with renewed energy and warmth. The bitter plant actually did wonders. With Toiro at his side as well, he almost felt as if he was near a heater, warming up his body and soul. He concentrated his eyes on the female who had suddenly helped him so willingly, addressing her with gratitude, “Gracie, signorina. I feel as warm as I did when I was at home.” He noticed the other female leaving the group to hunt, and tilted his head in thought. Perhaps with the help of Toiro, Masquerade, and the green eyed female, he would survive after all. His heart swelled with gratefulness as the bitter cold didn’t feel so bitter anymore.

[Toiro]

A little while later another howl rang out over the forest, the clear melodic tones being unmistakably Aludra’s. He noticed that Masquerade had paused at the sound, delaying the hunt to wait for the shaman’s arrival. Well, he could hardly blame her; it was her first chance to see anyone else in the pack aside from himself.

Then a wheeze turned his attention back to the wolf beside him, and the large alpha felt a pinprick of guilt in his heart. How had the foreigner come to be in such a state? He should never have turned him out into Tiayr; he could have guessed that the strange wolf wouldn’t do well by himself. “No, of course you won’t die,” he tried to comfort the loner, but he wasn’t sure that he even really believed the words himself. Despite his efforts to warm Orfeo up he could feel the fur beside him gradually getting colder as the wolf's body tried to conserve energy. “Aludra is on her way,” he said with more conviction. One thing that he had utter faith in was the skill of his shaman. She wouldn’t let a wolf die if she could help it.

It didn’t take long for her to arrive, her white form emerging from the trees like an angel descending from heaven. His heart always melted when he saw her, his love. Why did she always have to be so beautiful and so perfect? It was very distracting, and he had more important things to worry about, like whether Orfeo would live to see another day.

So he kept his reply to Aludra’s greeting to a simple nod, and watched as she sorted out what she’d brought. A few herbs which he didn’t recognise, and a hare. The grey wolf’s tail thumped softly on the snow behind him. She hadn’t known that they already had a potential hunter present so that was good thinking on her part to bring something to eat.

And then Orfeo did something that Toiro would never have expected. He didn’t touch the meal that was given to him, instead protesting that the food in Airila lands was supposed to go to the pack. The alpha blinked. He’d never seen any wolf reject food before, especially when he was this hungry. A small swell of warmth grew in his heart; Orfeo had actually listened to him that day on the beach and remembered his words.

“It’s fine. You need it.” Another thought occurred to him and his mouth twitched up in a wry smile. “If you’re really so worried perhaps you would consider becoming part of our family. Then you would technically not be taking from us.” Toiro hadn’t thought he would ever extent such an offer to the brute, but he found that his tone held sincerity. After all, not all wolves had to be perfect when they joined, as long as they were willing to improve. But that all depended on Orfeo’s survival.

Masquerade had vanished into the forest, and now all that he could do was wait; Aludra’s skills were far more useful than his at this point. The herbs seemed to have raised Orfeo’s temperature to normal levels, but there was still the matter of his apparently injured leg and his empty stomach. Hopefully more food would be arriving soon – it would be a difficult job to hunt in the snow-covered forest, especially since it was unfamiliar terrain to the new she wolf, but he knew that just the hare was unlikely to be enough to save the scrawny loner.



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