Open  direkt im Rattenloch [southern valley]
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Rainer He/Him
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#1










































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He had instructed his followers to meet him here to dig out the entrance to the tunnel that led to the Southern Valley - their longtime home for livestock, prey, and other things that required warmer weather. The massive cave-valley was warmed by hot springs that bubbled up to the surface, granting lush plant life to the area and allowing prey creatures to thrive. With that valley closed off, the invaders had no way of entering it and had instead starved slowly in the eternal winter of the Valley.

So, here he was - at the entrance to the tunnel that led to the valley. It had been blocked off by a landslide on the mountains above the entrance, so the interior tunnel was intact. It had taken a bit of investigation to determine this, and still they weren't sure, but they had to clear this away before knowing further damage.

Come, he declared, inspecting the toppled rubble calmly. Be carevul - vee don't want zhis to crumble again. and then he moved forward and upward, nosing about the rock and carefully picking his way up the mound. His plan was this: start from the top, brushing smaller rocks aside and tossing medium-sized ones as far as he could to the side. Larger rocks would need to be dug out and likely rolled or pushed in order to be moved, and that would risk another landslide. They had to be very, very careful in this. Rainer would clear away as much as he could around He would work diligently at this all day if he had to, and deep into the night if he must. Regardless of how many others joined him, this was of key importance. In order to survive, they needed more than a dwarf mammoth herd protected by a massive bull mammoth.

They needed warmth.


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Verstanden He ▪ Him
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#2
(This post was last modified: December 01, 2017, 12:04:22 PM by Verstanden.)





BJØRN
It wasn't like it bothered him to follow orders or have kings and queens, he wasn't a power hungry mongrel like most monsters of the depth - he just longed for the blood of his king. He didn't need to die for it, but just a drop, just a taste to see what a king would taste like, would it be sweet? Sour? or just right? Did the taste determine the quality of royalty? He thought of this in the entire walk to the tunnel and it was pounding in his head with these questions once he actually saw the king. He gave sly commands of "come" and "be careful" but he hardly heard it.

He climbed the rocks alongside the king, and in the passing he sniffed, but hid it in a snort. He didn't particularly smells interesting for a king, but his blood was sure to be different, sweeter, liquid gold pooling in his mouth and swallowing into the depths of his stomach. He shuttered. He almost forgot he was here for a reason other than drooling over the king's blood. He climbed to the top and began moving and pushing off small rocks to start and he didn't utter a sound while doing this.

"Do you think there is still animal in there?" He finally broke the silence, asking a innocent question, masking his need and lust for his blood, wondering if the king would feel the need to even answer to small-talk. Not that Bjørn really liked to small talk either, it was pointless to a certain degree, but anything to get his mind off it, to focus on this task ahead.

Just one drop would do.




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ouija she/her
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#3



She came from the dark, bi-colored eyes piercing as they looked upon the gathered. She approached on tip toe, dainty paws graceful for a child - and a child she was, young and small, a babe amongst giants. Not yet full grown, she slithers atop a nearby boulder like a snake, head twisting and winding as she looked down upon their king - their, because he rules the Bacchus, of which she is not, isn't she? - but she blinks slowly.

She settles down upon that boulder and watches them dig, and as she settles so does the snow upon her head, like a little crown of ice.

Meat had begun to stick to her bones, filling out the starving girl, though she still did not eat nearly enough - it was a task easy to forget, and she often only ate at the prompting of others. She would never be a strong wolf, nor did she care to be. Strength tempted strength, violence tempted violence, and a weak girl with nothing but the sky in her head would be left well enough alone.

She liked it that way.

Did she?

A sparrow darted before her eyes, spiraling in the air, and she watched it with the rapt attention of a child before the television set. Other than her presence, so rare in the vaste expanse of the valley, she paid the pair below no mind.

Perhaps the best, for them.



warning: posts may include descriptions of dissociation that may be unsettling, as well as uncomfortable imagery in regards to death!

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Crocuta She/her
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#4



speech [Image: D4u2ToI.png]  Profile

Excitement bubbled in Crocuta's blood as she came up to the smothered entrance. Green eyes darted all around the rubble before she turned to the rest of those who came to help before she finally rested her eyes on Rainer. Her tail gave a slow wag but jolted upward as he began his cautious climb up the mound. Crocuta let a smirk spread on her face as she tried to swallow her excitement, attempting to contain herself from just dashing up the mound like a foolish pup.

Be carevul - vee don't want zhis to crumble again.

"Aye. That'd be a pain in many ways." Crocuta agreed and, without hesitation, slithered her way up as well. She'd snuff and snort as she investigated the rocks before attempting to put weight on them, Crocuta knew she wasnt exactly the lightest lady around and her weight could easily shift a few rocks in a precarious situation if not knock them down completely. The last thing she'd want to do is crush Bjorn, Ouija or anyone else below; especially Bjorn, since they'd only just reunited. Croc's fur bristled when she felt one rock tilt, but with a quick move to a more sturdier hold she kept it from moving any longer.

As soon as she reached her position, Crocuta immediately set to cautious work, selecting smaller stones and rocks to move, daring not to even look at the larger ones--possibly the foundations of the rubble-- as of yet. She wanted the valley open, her old interests and mentorings calling her from the other side.


Soldier keep on marchin' on
Head down til the work is done
Waitin' on that morning sun
Soldier keep on marchin' on



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Hades She/Her
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#5






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She followed, head hung low. Not just in respect or that she was below any of the others that were there, but because she felt comfortable and tired. Hades kept her eyes on the small girl, watching as she slithered up the rocks and sat to watch them, curled in a ring of ice that suited a princess like herself. The hellion grunted then, following the lead of the other two before her who followed the King up against the rubble of rock. Irritation pricked under her skin as he cautioned them, much like a teenager would be being told the same thing over and over again.

She knew already.

The hellion would stay silent however, ignoring the comments from the other two and started to shove rocks off the edges, minding where the pup sat before making a move. She was off to the side and above, out of harm's way, but rocks below hers could easily shift and crumble, sending her down or sucking her under to crush her fragile form. So Hades stood by her, shoving rocks free.

The smaller ones were easier at first, but the more they dug, Hades knew that the larger ones would come next. Piece by piece, boulders were dug up and the beardog felt confident enough to push her shoulder into some, shoving them off to the side as they rolled down, bumping into brethren alike. Each shove and push put them a step closer to the other side, to forge a path and to gain warmth. Hades couldn't stop thinking of her hibernation though, a state in which she would miss any and all events. She only hoped they didn't need her brawn then.

They wouldn't be able to wake her.

✦ ✦ Speech Text ✦ ✦
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Basma His Highness
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#6
(This post was last modified: December 12, 2017, 12:31:59 AM by Basma.)



Basma

Basma would never admit it, but he’d become accustomed to warmth. The feel of the sunlight caught in his fur, lifeblood between his claws, even the lazy warmth of a den stuffed with furs— all of these had become more familiar to him than the chill of his homeland. He shoved his excitement beneath practicality. If anyone asked why there was a spark in his eyes, why he shifted from paw to paw in pup-like anticipation, he would huff and mutter something about only needing the valley for the herds of lesser beasts they preyed upon. But he would be lying.

It was shameful— he was heir to the cold, but his tainted blood longed to boil. Half noble, half not. Half his life here, and half somewhere else. Half winter and half summer, and never, not ever, at rest. He was always running, whether to or from. He’d have to learn how to stop, now that he had home again. Not that he’d ever felt relaxed in the old Bacchus. Power was a different kind of race.

These were the thoughts that swum through his head as he picked his way to the top of the rubble. A few pebbles clattered under his claws as he leapt carelessly upwards, but even when careless, Basma was graceful. No second landslide came to life beneath his footfalls, and he reached the zenith of rubble unscathed but by a heady sense of vertigo. After Meztli’s fall off the cliffs, it was difficult to look down without remembering how his brother plummeted like a rock through the sky. Heights still didn’t scare him, but he couldn’t deny the sick feeling in his chest. He had thought his brother dead. But he had thought Bacchus dead, too. And now he’d reclaimed them both, but neither were the same.

Rainer was not far from him, the newly crowned king. There was still resentment there, but not directed at him. Not really. Basma’s future had been ripped from under his feet long before Rainer came to power. From birth, he’d had promises that were never really his to hold. Tainted blood. But Rainer was pure, the Bacchus Bacchus needed when the pack was so shattered already. And Basma had to admit, power fit him as naturally as a coat of fur. The mercury-eyed wolf had yet to find a flaw with the new king. If he held any resentment for Rainer, it lied primarily in the fact that it was so hard to resent him.

So he obeyed orders like an automaton, brushing away the rocks and filth that desecrated their mutual homeland. Later, perhaps, he would have a chance to truly talk to the minister, or any of the other faces who’d seen this land before. But now, he would work. Now, he would claw and shove until the wall barring his past gave way and he stepped into the sun. He wondered if the livestock had died like his kin. He wondered if their food had outlived his father. It would certainly be fitting. The king is dead, long live the king.



There was a crooked man...
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and he walked a crooked mile...
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Rainer He/Him
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#7










































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Do you think there is still animal in there?
One of the males in the pack, a cousin to some degree climbed up alongside him and began digging, offering a quiet question which Rainer considered quietly for a moment, before responding with a, Hopefully. If not, they could always have the Shepherds and some guards go through the motions of going out and finding new prey beasts to flourish in the valley. It would be a hard journey, through both desert and ice. Any prey beast who traveled through that would be likely to become injured or die if they took them on that route too quickly, or even too slowly. The next who spoke was one who would find interest in this sort of thing, though - the black speckled woman Crocuta. He smiled at her gently, listening to her response to what he'd said earlier.

Aye. That'd be a pain in many ways.
Yes, that would be a pain and a half. He noticed the girl Ouija watching but not helping, and gave a mock stern look her way, before it turned to true concern. Careful on those rocks, Ouija. he didn't want to lose one of their only youth to something like that. He did, however, notice her watching the bird with rapt attention, and he noted it. His attention focused on the rocks again, even as he noticed Hades approach. This soothed his worry for Ouija, as having a Broodmother present meant that there was someone with authority over the child beyond himself who could watch to make sure nothing harmed her.

He dug away, pulling rock after rock and sending them off, away from his pack so they did not harm any but so they were out of the way. Slowly, they were making progress. Now, smaller rocks from the top were gone and he could see into the shadows beyond, though there were still several larger boulders that would need to be dug out before they could call it clear, along with a lot of lower rubble.

60% cleared. Posting order is free, with Rainer marking every new round. This is still open to newcomers if anyone else wants to help. @ouija @Crocuta @Hades @Basma


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Lyrium She/Her
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#8
(This post was last modified: January 03, 2018, 12:54:55 PM by Lyrium.)

「L y r i u m 」
I shifted my weight as my paws slammed through the snow.  I was still trying to get accustomed to the idea of living in a land filled with snow..and of course with snow came its best friend cold.  It was not a very enlightening thought and one I was slowly regretting; but Ulvar seemed to be having the time of his life.  Yet, at the same time, the feeling of belonging somewhere was slowly rearing it's beautiful and yet ugly head.  I was starting to enjoy the idea of being home; or rather the idea of actually calling a place home..maybe permanent, actual permanent, this time.  Despite the snow and cold, this place was beautiful.  The pack was beautiful.  I had not had a chance to meet them all, but so far they were kind.  They were family.

My destination had become quite more clear as I skidded to a halt near a gathering of other wolves.  A majority of them looked like they belonged in this pack while others were just strings tied into the family.  I had traveled down the north valley to find myself in the southern valley.  It looked to have been blocked, but hopefully that will not be the case soon.  I started to feel kind of nervous as I stood behind a group of wolves that were suppose to be pack, but yet I had no idea who they were.  Would they judge me for being different?  I did not look like an ordinary wolf.  Well, at least what an ordinary wolf should look like.

I began to wonder why I even cared of what they thought of me?  I shoved my nervousness aside and pushed myself forward.  I shoved my ears forward as the wolves talked amongst themselves.  My eyes caught the leader, I heard of him, but I did not know very much of him.  I slowly found a spot near the burden of rocks and slowly began to pull some out of place.  I tried to make sure I was careful when pulling each rock out.  I tested each one to make sure if I pulled it out, I was not going to cause an avalanche of rocks.  It was not to hard to pick out the good spots as we used to do this a lot when I was younger.  I was trying to remember where my instincts for this came from.  

I heaved a mental shrug and continued to dig.  I did not bother to strike up a conversation with the others as I continued to work.  I was not trying to be rude with my new family.  I just had no idea what to do say.  I was sometimes good with words, but not always.  We were making progress and the lands beyond the rocks were becoming clearer.  I noticed the larger boulders and thought that maybe my burly companion would be quite useful in this situation.  His big mass could definitely shove those away with ease.  Though, it would probably be easier if we all assisted, less injuries that way.

I turned my fiery gaze to the red chested male, I think they called him Rainer?  "Any plans for clearing the larger ones?  I think a couple of the bigger males might be able to make haste of them if we are careful," I remarked softly.  I was actually unsure if that was true, but it was an idea to consider right?

ooc:  




Like a mirage riding on the desert sand
Like a vision floating with the desert winds
Know the secret of the ancient desert lands
You are the keeper of the mystery in your hands

Nomad, rider of the ancient east
Nomad, rider that men know the least
Nomad, where your come from no-one knows
Nomad, where you go to no-one tells
The Nomad by Ironmaiden
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Yseult She/Her
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#9



Large, white paws stepped forward, one after the other with calculating ease as the she-wolf climbed. She would test the rocks to make sure she stood upon one that was sturdy. Her heart was pounding, but not out of nervousness, oh no. It was excitement that coursed through her veins, a sense of purpose that had been regained by the return of Bacchus. This task would be yet another nail in the security of Bacchus' rebirth, solidifying the fact that her home was no longer dead. They would breathe life into it again, one task at a time.

One by one, a stone was freed from the wreckage as the pack members worked tirelessly. With every stone they grew closer to freeing this part of their home, and so the she-wolf would work endlessly until it was done. She worked until she started to pant, which was uncommon for her to start feeling this run-down so quickly. However, a slight pang and heaviness in her stomach reminded her that she was no longer living for herself, at least for a short while. It was a hindrance on her part, and an annoyance. Soon, she would barely be able to do any sort of task and would be confined to the caves, or at least to the main valley. She looked forward to the time after, where things could go back to normal. However, she had to keep telling herself that this was also a service to her pack, to her home. She had been handpicked by Rainer for this task, and felt honored because of it, so she would see it through. She had to anyway, because she understood the preciousness of new life. These new lives would have to be strong though, and she would do everything she could to ensure that.

With a huff, she pushed off a medium sized rock from the rubble, standing there panting as she watched it cascade to the ground below. Looking back, she noticed the others were making good progress, and she lifted her head with pride as she watched. The Southern Valley would be free in no time.

"Any plans for clearing the larger ones? I think a couple of the bigger males might be able to make haste of them if we are careful."

The hellion spoke to Rainer, so Yseult would look toward him. Nodding his way, she said, "If I may, my Lord," she began, asking for permission to offer her own advice. If granted, she would continue. "The larger rocks at the top would be ideal to clear first. If we started at the bottom or the middle, the whole thing will go down, along with us." She paused, allowing Rainer or anyone else to reply to the matter before turning back to Rainer. "Those who are more fit for the job should move the large rocks, while the rest steer clear. Less lives are at risk that way." It wasn't that she felt the need to take on a commanding role, even though she held some ambitions for it, but if she couldn't do much extensive labor work at this time, at least she could provide this.
ooc: Fiiinally got around to this
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