[Kyra] Here It Goes

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The grasslands of Aveline seemed endless. Miles and miles, they rolled on; miles and miles of rippling, thick grass -- now paling and drying as the onset of the cold season neared. All identically cropped as though some meticulous deity had reached down from the heavens and trimmed them evenly. The precision was boundless, each blade conforming entirely to each and every one of his exponential brothers. The flat, verdant ocean spanned as far as the eye could see, stretching with elasticity until, at last, it dipped into the horizon and the miles beyond became obstructed by distant treelines.

So, of course, Riffraff stuck out like a sore thumb.

This was no real surprise; as a maned wolf, he always stuck out. Truthfully, it wasn't an easy task for him to be stealthy. He'd been born with a body that screamed for attention: bright, clashing, ruddy fur; impossibly long and awkward limbs; a foxlike tail; huge, saucerlike ears that seemed entirely too large for his face. He stood like a giant on the grassy plain, the blades only reaching part of the way up his legs. Easily, anyone for miles could have spotted him -- he was like a large, orange honing beacon.

Regardless of this, he was relaxed. The maned wolf stood easily on calm, black feet, his posture comfortable. His expression was neither vacant nor alert; his ears twitched only slightly at the medley of natural sounds which pervaded them and peppered the open expanse of land with some other signs of animal life. If he stood stock-still for a moment or two, he could just make out the careful, sub-visible movements of rodents scurrying about below the underbrush. He could easily make a kill or two here, if he had been hungry. Game in the Chamoru Plains was usually plentiful, even when cold weather set in. It was a wonder why more wolves did not make their homes here.

But Riffraff was not hungry, nor did he intend to make his home in the plains -- or anywhere in Aveline, for that matter. He had lived in this marshy, humid region of the continent for the entirety of his young life. It had been, at times, both cruel and kind to him. Here he had spent his first few months playing with carefree abandon with his numerous siblings; here he had lost his way, only to wake up by some stroke of dumb luck under the watchful eyes of a surprisingly fatherly male loner. He had learned much, had taught himself much, had lost much and had gained much. But now, feeling as though he had drunk in all the knowledge and experience from this land that he could muster, he knew that it was time to move on.

Still, he paused in the grasslands one last time, his cacao-colored eyes sweeping the horizon as if searching for something meaningful to say goodbye to. With both his real and surrogate family now lost to him, he had nothing tangible to let go of, save for the terrain he had grown to know so well over the past two years of his meager life. He had little knowledge of what the world outside Aveline held. The loner -- his father figure -- had tried to paint a picture of what could be found in some of the neighboring lands, but it was something that Riffraff simply could not visualize. He would have to experience it for himself.

Standing in the midst of an endless plain that already seemed a distant memory, he felt ready to take in all that the world had to offer him.


word count: 600
muse: So-so.
tags: @kyra
ooc: I'm going to say this thread occurs prior to Riffraff's thread with Nuka and Scout.

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To say that she knew nothing of where she had ended up would not only be the truth, but would also quite clearly explain the problem the small rusty-colored female was now faced with. It had taken her quite a while, but she had managed to expel the salty smell from her coat that had resulted from her travels through the waters off the coast of this new land she found herself exploring now. She had spent many days recovering from her rather ridiculous venture, and now she brought it upon herself to see where she had ended up. There was something different about this place, but for all she tried, she still had not managed to place the feeling that filled her tiny form. From the little time she had spent on this island continent, she had come to realize that there was not one, but many different packs that called this place home. However, each seemed to be very different from one another, and she had not yet had the time to analyze the strengths and weaknesses of each grouping of wolves.

In the other packs that she had tried to call home in the past, she had always been an outcast, too different to fit in with the larger wolves that she had encountered. She was often called a coyote, and in the African areas, a jackal, no more than a worthless scavenger that was inferior to the other species of wolves. But, though she had only been here a short while, she had picked up the scents of many different types of wolves. She did not dare let her hopes rise for a pleasant home here, but there was definitely the promise that this place could be different for her. At least there was a chance of it. Even the terrain itself was different in so many ways. She had explored only a small portion of her potential new home when she came upon a vast collection of fields, filled with thick grass that brushed nearly half way up her legs as she made her way forward out of mere curiosity to see what this place had in store for her.

It took her large ears a matter of moments to register the sounds of tiny feet scrambling beneath the grasses, a thought striking not only her mind, but also her stomach. She froze almost instantly, head high and tail straight behind her as she tilted her nose and ears towards the ground in front of her. There she stood, still as a statue and almost appearing to not even breathe, as she listened carefully to the movements below. Then suddenly, her head tilted, large, rounded ears perked and eyes focused intently on the grasses below. Another tilt of her head the opposite way came along with a twitch of her nose and a narrowing of her eyes, honing in on a general area of where the tiny creature now moved. Suddenly, without warning, she leapt into the air, twisting her form at the height of her jump to create a tight arch, her paws outstretched towards the ground as she made her descent. Though the jump felt like several moments to her, the attack from above came like lightning to the tiny mouse that now wriggled violently in her paws beneath the crushed grasses.

The fiery little female wasted no time in lowering her jaws to close them on the tiny snack, the creature’s squirming coming to an end at the click of her teeth within a matter of moments. There was little thought to picking around the bone and other portions of the tiny body, and instead of wasting time that could result in a stolen meal, she tilted her head back and opened her jaws, swallowing the pathetically small prize whole. It took her a moment to swallow, but once she was satisfied that the threat of choking was not present, she shook her entire form as if to brush off the poor excuse for a hunt and carried on her way. The small snack proved to calm her aching stomach for at least the time being, and though she would need to procure a larger meal in the near future, she was in good enough shape to carry on and find something a bit more substantial than measly mice.

Her eyes slowly began to scan the grasses in front of her, looking for any sign of life other than herself. It would be fairly simple to spot her, with her red-hued coat sticking out amongst the grasses as she made her way further into the fields. Suddenly, off to her side, she caught something that stood out against the grass in the corner of her eye. She slowly turned her head, a strange looking wolf – at least she assumed it to be a wolf – loomed above the grasses on tall, dark legs that met up with a bright orange-red coat which made him stick out like a sore thumb. Her ears perked, nose lifting to scent the air and try and decipher whether or not this stranger was hostile. She smelled no signs of a pack in this area, therefore she figured him to be alone, but one could never be too careful. So, instead of approaching like a fool, she remained standing where she was, her posture confident and alert, but not threatening or challenging. The last thing she needed was a fight right now, and she was not going to risk causing one solely because of a misinterpretation of body-language. After studying him for a few moments she let out a bark, knowing that he was close enough to not warrant a howl, but far enough to have possibly not noticed her arrival.

Word Count: 963
Muse: Good
Tags: @riffraff
Notes: I got a bit carried away at the end there. Sorry it took so long for me to get this up for you!

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The beginnings of a sigh reached for Riffraff's lips, but it hitched in the back of his throat at the last minute and he swallowed it. He wasn't sure what to make of things, at the moment. The sun was dipping lower in the sky, reaching down to scrape the tree-dappled horizon with the longest of its spindle-like rays. The slightest hints of sunset colors had already begun to seep into the atmosphere, streaking pink here, orange there. A smattering of pink below the rare clouds, which framed the sky like a hung painting. The moment itself was like a great work of art, immortalized in time; the sky and the grass and the wolf, who gazed up in awe at the mysterious wonders of nature and tried to imagine what it all could possibly mean.

As the air grew denser and the light grew dimmer, the scuttling creatures below the tall grass began to get more antsy. Daytime critters were returning to their holes, or scrounging for a final bite of food; nocturnal ones were just beginning to stir from their slumber, poking their heads up drowsily, hungry and still half-asleep. Riffraff could feel their movement as it shocked through the ground and rustled against his paws. He could pinpoint their every location. He could single out a shrew or a vole and be upon it in only a moment. But his stomach fell dull and full in that awful way a stomach tends to feel when a bittersweet occasion arises. He hadn't eaten in some time, but dinner would have to wait until he could muster up the hunger and the energy to make a kill.

Suddenly, the movement that vibrated below his paws became heavier, denser -- much too forceful to be the work of tiny rodent paws.  And the movements were calculated; not sporadic like a small, scampering creature's tended to be. A deer, perhaps? Or maybe... A wolf? He turned his head, his high, saucerlike ears swiveling to detect any errant sound. He stopped short, his face pointed eastward; a heavy, distant thud. As if a predator had just come down upon its prey. Craning his long neck as tall as he could make it, he pointed his eyes and nose towards the source. What other being had come to interrupt his goodbyes, to share in his final Aveline sunset?

At last, his gaze caught on the red she-wolf, noticing her as she lifted her head up from her meager feast. He studied her from a distance; she was like no wolf he had ever seen before. The only wolves he had ever associated with were his family -- all maned wolves, of course -- and the few loners he had encountered in the territory, which had all been Grays or Mackenzie Valleys. This she wolf, however... he was intrigued by her. Her rusty-colored coat stood out against the grasses; the shape of her face was unique, sloping and feminine. She did not appear hostile, or at least seemed unlikely to attack him. Hungry, perhaps, but not hostile.

He waited for her to notice him before he made a move to approach her, not wanting to startle her. At last, he saw her eyes trail towards him, watched with amusement as her nose tested the air -- for sign of packmates probably. There were no packs in Aveline, at least that he had ever encountered. A short bark met his ears, calling his attention. He couldn't decipher its meaning. A greeting? A warning? Something else? She looked neither scared nor aggressive, to him. He decided to test the waters. Keeping his posture easy and nonthreatening, he trotted towards her, his long legs making his gait more horselike than wolflike. When he was a few yards away from her, he slowed his movements, approaching with his head politely down.

"Hello there," he said, his voice pleasant and moderately charming. He smiled at her. "My name is Riffraff. Nice evening we have here tonight, isn't it?" He regarded the intensifying sunset for a moment before turning back to the female. "With whom do I have the pleasure of sharing it?"


word count: 689
muse: Moderate.
tags: @kyra

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It was not long after her bark - which she felt rather foolish about now - that the male turned and made his way towards her. She carefully sat as he approached, her head tilted curiously as her eyes scanned his form. He was unlike any other wolf she had ever seen. Surely he was not of the same breed as her, but then again, she was a mutt. It did not take her long to rest her eyes back on his face, her head retaining it's slight curious tilt as he approached with his head respectfully low. "Hello, it is a pleasure to meet you. I'm Kyra." She said, her dark yellow eyes still watching him curiously as her tail curled around her dainty paws as she finished speaking. It was definitely a beautiful evening, and though she had not been in Anikira for long, this was definitely a place that she could find herself getting used to.

It seemed, however, that this wolf had been here before, maybe even frequently. She had no doubt that he could tell she had been hunting, but from what she had smelled and seen, there were no packs that laid claim to this immediate area. With her eyes still on the wolf in front of her, she took a small breath and smiled up at him. He was much larger than she, with long legs that had made his gait appear more like a trot than the pace of the average wolf. His face was shaped differently, as well as the rest of his body, but it was the enormous ears atop his head with the mane that ran down the back that caught most of her attention. She did her best not to stare, though it was not every day that she encountered a wolf so different from herself.

"If it is not too bold, may I ask what kind of wolf you are?" She asked, her ears flattening to the sides in embarrassment as she voiced her obvious curiosity. Instantly she regretted the question, but it was already out in the open, so instead of retracting it foolishly, she watched and waited, carefully examining his face for any sign that her words might have produced insult upon him. She had not, of course, meant it that way, but she could not tell how he took the words she had spoken. For now, though, all she could do was wait - and hope to receive an answer to the question she had so openly asked.

Word count: 423
Muse: So-so
Tags: @riffraff

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Kyra. It was a nice name, to be sure. It sounded good in his head -- short and sweet, simple but not boring. Riffraff regarded her, his gaze flicking over the female with respectful curiosity. He did not have much experience with wolves of the female persuasion. To be honest, he didn't have much experience with wolves of any persuasion. He barely remembered his mother by now; what little he did remember had the fuzzy, unreliable quality of an old dream.

"The pleasure is all mine," he replied, his voice warm with a friendly tenor. He hadn't been expecting company, but he was glad she was there all the same. She seemed friendly enough, from what he could sense. Though he had come to the plains to say goodbye, he did not need to make this goodbye a solemn one. Perhaps this encounter would help the transition process. A gateway from old to new. Perhaps he could find in this she-wolf a friend -- or, at the very least, an ally.

A small chuckle passed his lips as she posed her question. He wasn't offended at all; by now, despite his lack of social interaction, he knew enough to realize that he was unlike most of the other wolves that inhabited the island. It was natural to be curious, and as long as she wasn't spewing any overtly racist comments he was glad to answer any questions. "I'm a maned wolf," he replied. "We aren't very well-represented around here." Other than his family, he was the only maned wolf he'd ever met. Tilting his head at her good-naturedly, he figured he'd ask the same of her. "And yourself? What kind of wolf are you?" Some sort of mixed breed, he assumed. Whatever breeds her parents had been, they had mixed well. She did not have the strange, hodgepodge appearance that many mixes tended to display.

"So, Kyra," he went on, his long tail swishing lazily behind him as he thought on what to say. "What brings you out here on this night?" There were no packs in the area. She was a loner as well, but he had not caught her scent on the wind before now. From where had she come? He gazed down at her, smile ever-present, his tall ears flickering in a silly sort of way.


word count: 380
tags: @kyra
ooc: Sorry this isn't so good.

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The small female smiled at the male's friendliness, something that she really had not expected to find in any wolf that she encountered, especially after her question of his breed. At the same time, she was not at all surprised when he mirrored her question about her breed. "I am actually a red/gray wolf cross." She said softly, flattening her ears to the side slightly, almost as if she were embarrassed to be a half-breed. After all, not many wolves responded well to a wolf that was not a pure species. Her mother had been a pure red wolf, and her father gray, but she had obviously been born with a bit of both. She had taken on a mixture of colors, though she clearly mimicked the size of her mother's species. Most other wolves thought they could push her around and tried to take advantage of her because of her size, and as a result, she often became wary of any investigation as to her species and her build.

But from what she could tell, this male was not being judgmental at all. She did not see any mocking in his eyes, nor did she see any threat in his expression. She remained cautious, however, and though she continued to watch him, her ears twitched every once in a while and her tail flicked slightly - sure signals that she was keeping track of their surroundings as well as continuing the conversation with the stranger she had met a short while ago. His second question made her look around slowly, and as her eyes turned upwards to the sky, she sighed softly. "I'm wandering, mostly. I have not been on this island long, and honestly, I do not know my way around at all. Plus, with so many packs around, I have found that I'm not sure I even want to begin looking for a home again." She said softly, closing her eyes and letting her guard down for a split-second before opening them once more to look up at him.

"May I ask why you are here?" She asked softly, tilting her head and offering him a rare smile. She was not this friendly often, so her behavior felt strange to her, as if she were in another wolf's body. But she went with it, especially since this male was being so kind to her - she owed it to him to relay his friendliness back to him. Plus, it had been far too long since she had enjoyed a simple conversation with another wolf. This one seemed slightly distracted, though, and she could not quite tell why. Was he just passing through and itching to move on? Was there some place he had to be? Or was it the open field and the night that surrounded them, making them dangerously exposed that made him uncomfortable? No matter what it was, she was obviously curious, though she kept her questions to herself for the time being.

Word count: 504
Muse: so-so
Tags: @riffraff