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Fae
She/Her
Reach
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The pieces had begun to come together, falling carefully into place. She had her leadership, her lands, and numbers began to trickle in. They had simply to wait as word spread further, but there was still work to be done. She'd thought, briefly, of him, the golden fox who had once set her thoughts in motion, of a sanctuary of their very own creation. What would he think of all she had now? The question left a bad taste in her mouth, she'd leaned on him once, and now he deserved no ounce of her hard work. Shaking that off, Fae refused to let her mind falter, ever-working, planning more and more. Arcana would not fail, would not fall, not again. She'd set the groundwork, but there was so much more to come. For now, she would allow a moment's respite, a minor celebration, for her fellow leaders, for those few that had begun to count themselves among the Arcanan body. Multi-tasking, of course, she'd been scavenging up remains -an idea she'd not yet proposed- to create both a sign and a ward at the far reaches of their wooded territory. She'd also picked up kindling, what branches and things she could muster of her own strength- which may have taken away much of the day- and gathered them in the central clearing area of the valley. Slowly, methodically, she crafted the structure, and needed only add the fire. With no effort spared, a sizable pyre stood waiting for the strike of flint to a torch, delicately placed at the base. Stepping back, the Solaris watched the flames spread, slow at first, then catching ever faster, in time growing into a roaring fire. The harsh warmth of the fire spread a feeling of satisfaction through the Queen, a smile curling upon her slender muzzle. Should the site and scent of it not be enough, the composed vixen would twist around, leaping about like a gleeful child and letting out yips and high pitched sounds of summoning. Come, come and join me, revel in our creation. |
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Hinto
He/Him
Almost Sparkles
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He had seen it all, he had seen the world just as he had dreamed of as a child. Hinto had no regrets about his life. He'd often thought of the family he had left behind, but he had never truly felt alone. There were to many things to do, and see, and be, and Hinto had wanted it all.
At his departure, many years ago now, he had promised his mother he would visit someday. Though he was fashionably late on his word, and had a feeling she would definitely chastise him about it, he now had plenty of stories to share to interest any who were apt to listen; his younger siblings perhaps? His parents had expected a second litter, but he had left before they were born so he knew not who they were or how many. Hinto had crept upon the edge of the crater at night. He had expected Featherfur would be no more, as it had fallen in his time there... But he had been shocked to find no traces of fox other than some long abandoned dens and some trinkets hanging in the trees. Wolves populated the area nearby and he assumed they were the reason the foxes were gone. There was nothing more for him there, so Hinto went on to do what he did best and wandered. It wasn't an easy life he led, but it was one he adored. He slept beneath the stars when it was safe to do so, and he entertained the creatures he passed in exchange for scraps and little treasures: A meal for a story shared of a land far away to a kind coyote, a few quills given to him from a couple of porcupines for a moment of respite entertaining their kids, a smooth stick carved with runes in exchange for paw pad readings and trinkets of prosperity given to a tribe of beavers met on the river. Whatever the exchange, big or small, he always enjoyed the experience of sharing and bartering with others. Oh there had been more than a few bad situations along the way, but why let those ruin it for all the others? Besides, tricking his way out or escaping dangerous encounters was just as fun and interesting as the rest. They always left him feeling elated and alive, and made him want to laugh out loud at nothing in particular. On this day, Hinto felt the spirits of luck and fortune weave their ways into his fur. It made the hairs at the back of his neck and tail stand on end and tickle with excitement. He had just traded one of the colored minerals from his pouch with a raven in exchange for an interesting piece of information. A gathering of foxes nearby; small numbers but growing by the day. What if he would find his parents there? The thought swelled his heart with anticipation. Simply the thought of mingling with his own kind again elated him. No one really understood the foxes quite like foxes did. After all, were they not the only animals on this plane of existence that came from the stars? His father had told him so and his story, though probably just meant to entertain children, must have had a shed of truth in it because Hinto had heard it again and again from other tribes beyond the fringe. The smell of smoke reached him before the scent of fox did, but it did not alarm him. Fire was a gift, though many did not see it that way. If not treated with respect, it could boil with rage and devour whole forests, but it never really took everything. After its passage the plants always grew greener and strong. When his eyes finally caught sight of the flame, it was a beautiful sight to behold. A pyre raised in a clearing offered it's home to the flames and they danced gleefully on the gathered wood, taking the offering that had been made for them. At its base, a beautiful vixen danced. At first, Hinto couldn't make out the color of her fur, for it seemed it only reflected the hues of the flames. Walking closer, he realised it was because she was the color of fire itself. It was as though she had been born of the pyre and danced in gratitude for the life it had given her. It was a sight to behold. He felt compelled to join her, like a moth to a flame. He did not resist. Long ago he had learned to listen to intuition and feeling. The spirits often spoke to those who were willing to listen. The bonfire roared and the air around it felt charged. Simply being there made him feel like he was dancing above the world. He joined her without a word, the light of the flame reflecting on the coloured carvings upon the mask he wore on his face; the skull of a boar whose tusks curled upon themselves. His call joined hers in the dance, though he did not know for what or whom she was calling, it did not matter. Perhaps she had been calling for him. He danced for the fire, he danced for the vixen, and he danced for the newfound hope he had to find his family. No matter what the future held, it was sure to be exciting and grand. |