[Nihilist]

d o r a n,

INSECURE OR IN DENIAL

actions - “speech” - thoughts

It wasn’t right.


Not a single thing had been right since he had arrived and a fit of mistrust and self blame was making him wonder if he should stay. The Nardir wolves – his people, he corrected, in his head; he was one of them, now – were quick to get to know one another. There wasn’t much about the geography or the local religion he couldn’t fish a name up from his quick introductory-memory to go ask for more information. He still didn’t quite understand everything.


But, they had magic. And, he’d always been told magic was filled with intention. Was his bitterness polluting the locality, clashing with the locals to create some sort of strife? He hoped not, so he could blame them; he hoped not, so he wouldn’t once again be putting Moyra in danger.


Speaking of which, the skinny brindle male was making his way back from checking Outpost Lake, going along Blackstripe’s Pass. He is a member of the Guild of the Eagle, certainly, but with everything going on, while he’s making routine passes to try to find scarcer and scarcer food that isn’t suspect for how safe it is to eat, he can’t help but check on others. He wouldn’t be any good to protect anyone, he thinks, not with how weak he is, but…. he’s fast. He’s loud. He could get help.


He can always get someone actually useful.


But, regardless, as he walks through Blackstripe’s Pass with a maw full of unfortunate button buck – winter means thick snow and little greenery for a hungry deer; all Doran really had to do was stalk the poor thing until it trembled with exhaustion, and then the deer was his to share with his new… pack? Family… - dragging partially behind him due to his less than noteworthy height. All the same, he spots Moyra.


His first impulse is to avoid her. Take the buck back to The Castle a different way; everyone would like to eat, he’s sure, and he’s not going to deny them their meal even if his weird anxiety concerning his once-friend makes him want to drop the deer and bolt. After a brief second of freezing, he drops the cervine’s neck and speaks.


“You want a bite?”


It’s an old, familiar question. He used to ask it when he chased down hares or got clever enough to steal a fox’s cache. When he ate, she ate; she had been his best friend, and he would have denied her nothing. But, the tone is wholly different. He speaks it questioningly, like he’s not sure she’d bother eating with him at all.


He almost hopes she doesn’t, just so he has proof that the little grudge he’s been nursing has been justified.

ooc did i listen to delta heavy's "white flag" on repeat for this? perhaps.

forest graphic © m-adking / coding © vixxie's codes

[Moyra]

m o y r a,

You’re a child in the garden
You’re growing up I’ll watch you bloom
And your dreams are not forgotten
You’ll be a woman soon

While the air between her and Doran had been a bit off ever since he arrived in Nardir, Moyra didn't think much of it. Everyone went through bad moods or rough spots, so she just assumed Doran was dealing with adjusting to his new home in his own way. A smile crossed her purple maw as she thought of her good friend; she was so happy to have a familiar face around now. She was still new to the pack, so Moyra felt like a bit of a social outcast because she didn't have any real friends at the moment. She hoped that would change because she really loved having people to call family. What was the point of joining a pack if not for camaraderie?

As if on cue, Doran appeared in front of her and was carrying a large buck in his mouth. Well, he was mostly dragging it but Moyra knew better than to tease him for it. She rose from the snowy spot she had been sitting while daydreaming and admiring the sky and trotted over to her speckled best friend.

Doran! she greeted him happily and stopped in front of him. That looks yummy, I think I will take a taste.

Moyra nodded her thanks to Doran and lowered her delicate head down and sank her teeth into the shoulder of the buck. The taste of blood filled her mouth and her eyes drew closed as she enjoyed the snack. It was like old times again, and she couldn't have felt more at peace. Doran always did most of the hunting. He may be smaller than her, but he was probably stronger. Moyra's frame was lithe and thin, so she was quite fast but never very good at taking down large prey like deer.

I suppose I should stop relying on you to feed me, huh? she said sheepishly as she swallowed the meat.

ooc bless these two

forest graphic © m-adking / coding © vixxie's codes / lyrics © the new day // greta van fleet

[Nihilist]

d o r a n,

INSECURE OR IN DENIAL

actions - “speech” - thoughts

It felt right. For a brief moment, they were young again, in the little community by the riverside, him bringing home his meager kills to share with her and her mother. It felt familiar; comfortable, to the extreme. With how the snow blanketed the world, he could let the lull of home quiet his insecurities back to before they blossomed.


But, she spoke, and he tensed. Hot embarrassment traveled up his back. Why was she rejecting him, again? Rather than flatly telling her No, please, rely on me all you want; I can hunt for you whenever you’d like, he cocked his head, the deer momentarily left to cool on the layer of snow below. His nose wrinkled as he resisted growling over his wounded ego. He huffed.


“Yeah, you probably should.” He picked the deer up again, dragging it behind him as he walked on. He shook his head, trying to let it go but too angry. “Sorry we ended up at the same pack!” he half-shouted around the deer. “I’m sure you were hoping for someone more impressive to bring you down a… down a… a bull moose, or somethin’!”


Yeah, Doran. Make her seem like the unreasonable one. She can’t reject you again if you cut off the chance to even interact. That’ll make both of you feel so much better. Obviously.

ooc local manchild throws tantrum, lashes out at bestie

forest graphic © m-adking / coding © vixxie's codes