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Wren. she/her
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#1

@Gothy  

It wasn't often that Wren had nightmares anymore. At least, nightmares that pertained to the war. She didn't wake up feeling as if she was soaked to the bone with blood, her pale fur stained red. It wasn't often that she tried to fight her way, kicking and sobbing, from her partner's grasp, choking on the air in her lungs as her chest heaved and the dying cries of her peers singing in her ears. No, she didn't break the gentle quiet of the dark nights often anymore. Nowadays, it only happened once every few weeks or so, far fewer than when she had them almost every other night. But that didn't stop her other nightmares, the featherless Aviari almost always waking up in the middle of the night.

If she were honest when others asked, she'd admit that she couldn't remember the last time she'd slept soundly through the night. But she was never honest when they asked.

Her nightmares weren't as bloody anymore, less about the war. Now they were about Ragnarok, almost always about Ragnarok when they weren't about her failures and the disappointment of her family. She dreamt that he was leaving her, as he often threatened, and he wouldn't come back. She would be on the ground, crawling after him and begging him to stay like the piteous creature she knew herself to be. He would never turn, never even send her a glance. He'd just keep walking and she would keep crying, tears falling to the dusty ground as she lost him. It was those nightmares that sometimes frightened her more than those she had about the war.

Other times, it was about the Crystallines and their disappointment in what she'd become. She'd dream of their cold, pale eyes looking down at her as she trembled beneath the heavy weight of their gazes. They'd whisper and, god, did she hate how they'd whisper. They'd whisper about her lack of feathers, snickering as they pondered if Xiuhcoatl spared her of what ugly feathers she might've ended up with had they grown in. Or they'd whisper about her relationship with Ragnarok, how foolish she was to be with him. "But then again," they'd remind themselves, "only an Obsidian could love her."

The night prior, it had been the latter of the three. She had woken up, breathing quick and short, slipping away so she could get just one gulp of fresh air. Helena, her chinchilla, was always quick to wake up and climb up her leg to sit amongst her soft, downy fur. And then, having taken her fill of the night air, she'd have returned to her partner and wormed her way back into his grasp, experienced at the action after doing it so much, falling asleep once more.

Just at the cusp of day, she woke again. Though, this time, her breathing was not harsh and quick. It was still dark, dawn just about to break free from the suffocating grasp of night. She looked over at Ragnarok's sleeping face, which, at the moment, appeared peaceful. It was so unlike from the usual sour twist of his features, such a stark contrast that if she were any person other than herself she might have been surprised. But she wasn't surprised, allowing herself the smallest, softest smile. It was these tender moments that she loved the most. Leaning forward, she pressed her muzzle into his fur to wake him. As much as she'd like the moment to last longer, she knew that the day had to start at some point.
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Ragnarok. He/Him
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Location [IC]: El Dorado
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#2
(This post was last modified: February 10, 2019, 06:18:35 PM by Ragnarok..)






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A long day's work warranted a long night's rest. Ragnarok settled into his den as usual, Wren wrapped around him. He wasn't the affectionate person, giving a gruff grunt before he shut his eyes to the world. He hardly heard her throughout the night struggling through the nightmares. Mainly where he leaves her and never comes back. On the occasion where she irritates him to no end, he would threaten to, one of his ugly moments in their relationship, but Ragnarok always takes her back, knowing she damn well needs him. Or when her family mocked and laughed at her, jeering that of course she'd date an Obsidian! He was the only one who cared.

Opening his eyes when she gasped awake, he would silently stare before closing them and slipping back into slumber. It wasn't his concern, after all.

So when morning came and she nuzzled him awake, he shifted slightly. Ragnarok would give a heavy sigh and then yawn with a lengthy stretch. The same he had done every morning every time Wren woke him up. It was the start of a new day, the start of a new adventure. He looks to her then, staring down at her and huffed. "Do you always gotta wake me at the ass crack of dawn?" he asks, shaking his head. It didn't matter, she would've done it anyway. He was expected to do fucking everything around here.

Whatever.

Wiggling out of the den, he would shake his coat and feathers, tail swatting the air in annoyance. He'd at least wait for Wren to crawl out before he would head into the forest. He had to wash the sticky saliva from his throat, it was always refreshing this early in the morning. The cold woke him up quickly. "Whatta yah want for breakfast? I'm starving." he declared, not really sure himself what he wanted. They could possibly go to the pyramid and find something there for sale, but the Gods only knew Ragnarok did not have anything worth in value.


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Wren. she/her
wistful little bird
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Posts: 4
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#3

He wakes up just like any other day, face shifting from its peacefulness from his usual groggy sourness that came with the morning. A familiar sight, though sometimes she wished she never woke him up. That he always stayed peaceful. That she could leave him like but. But, then, if she left him, asleep and peaceful, where would she be? Nowhere, lost and alone. She always woke him up, paranoid that one day he wouldn't if she wasn't there and she'd be alone. So, like clockwork, she'd wake him up every morning just moments before dawn. And every morning she'd feel some bit of relief when he woke up, even if he didn't do it happily. She didn't want to be alone, not again.

"Do you always gotta wake me at the ass crack of dawn?"

At that, she smiled and almost laughed at his usual grumpiness. He was definitely not a morning person and no matter how hard she tried, she knew she couldn't get him to embrace the dawn as she did. She said nothing as he got up and left the den, watching with pale red eyes as Helena woke up and came over to latch onto Wren's back. Then she stood, shaking lightly but not enough to send her chinchilla flying as she left the den. She had no feathers to preen, taking minimal time to clean up. She did enough to look good, but not amazing. After all, she was a rather moderate person.

Sometimes, she thought, coming to stand beside Ragnarok, I wish we could just sit, we wouldn't even have to talk. If even for a few moments. But those were wistful thoughts, a scarce chance they'd ever come to fruition. She was often busy, anyway. Her mornings were often spent completing her duties as a lark, her afternoons spent teaching children and fulfilling her duties as a dove as well. Sometimes, when she had breaks between all her work, she'd go talk to Akuna, one of her few friends. But breaks didn't come often, not when there was always so much work to be done. Any other free time she had she tried to spend with Ragnarok, but he always had his own agenda. Much of the time, she thought about resigning from one of her ranks just so she'd have more time to spend with him. Maybe it'd keep them close.

In response to his question, she was quiet for a moment. She was sure she could get some food from one of the vendors with a few sweet words and reminders of the favors she'd done. She dealt in them, doing small favors here and there until they built up to an overwhelming amount. And then she'd ask for something in return, often small or insignificant in comparison. If she recalled correctly, there was one woman who ran a small stand of fresh (enough) meats and Wren had watched her children on some spare evenings.

She could probably manage a squirrel or two, enough to get the morning started. "We could go to the pyramid," she suggested, "I could maybe get us something. Only if you want to, of course." She always had a fail-safe, a back door to escape any situation. She never wanted to make him angry, always disliking (and perhaps fearing) his temper and what came with it. She needed a fail-safe, especially when talking to Ragnarok.
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Ragnarok. He/Him
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#4






[Image: 6FE78l4.png]
As if reading his mind, she had suggested the pyramid. Finding someone to sell them a few meats would be difficult as Ragnarok wasn't the most liked person and Wren was just as poor. Who would sell to a featherless avari? So, the Jay scowled at her harshly, turning his head in a low rumbling growl and a flash of teeth. "As if we have anything to offer, idiot." he snapped, pushing aside a few fern and elephant ears. The creek was finally in view and he relaxed a little in order to grab a drink.

At least this was peaceful, a promising start to the day as he satisfied his thirst and washed down the night's yuck. Once he was done, Ragnarok would hum in content.

Eyes glanced to the woman, wondering if she really could have something to offer. Although Wren was a submissive natured creature, she was smart and handy. Ragnarok was often impressed by her intelligence, though squashed it to suit his ego. He'd lick the water from his lips and nose, thinking a moment longer. Ugh, fine, she could probably find something useful to do. Work it off or something, he didn't feel like hunting or snacking on fruit until lunch time.

Ragnarok would lean forward, giving her a soft kiss on the forehead. "Alright alright, let's go to the pyramid. I'm sure you'll think of something." And with that, he would turn that direction, sauntering forward. They had a little time to kill before people were up and open. This was the problem of waking up so fucking early.

"What're you doing today?"

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Wren. she/her
wistful little bird
Packmate
**
Posts: 4
Pronouns: she/her















All Accounts Posts: 195
#5

She followed after Ragnarok, staying close but not quite clinging to her partner. He never liked it when she got in his way, after all. Though, when she saw the flash of teeth, the small Aviari flinched away, staying deathly still for half a moment. But then she was following again, ears turned back and her tail halfway between her legs as she scolded herself. He's right, she thought, face scrunched in a slight scowl, I shouldn't have mentioned it. She ducked beneath the fronds, following behind him even when an elephant ear leaf hit her directly in the face. She barely noticed the plant's discretion, too caught up in chastizing the lack of thought put into her words.

She was looking around when he glanced at her, pale red eyes watching the world as her pale ears listened to its sounds. She did manage a quick drink, not quite thirsty enough to warrant a full gulp of the stream's water before she stepped back, waiting for Rag to finish patiently. The tip of her tail ticked away with the seconds, not quite impatient but merely waiting. Wren turned to Ragnarok when he came over, heat rushing to her face as he pressed his muzzle to her forehead in a gentle kiss. She leaned forward to meet him, pressing her nose beneath his jaw before he turned to walk away again, this time toward the pyramids.

She smiled, barely containing her growing glee. Her step felt lighter, her eyes shining as she walked at Ragnarok's side. He didn't show his affection as often as she did and she was always elated when she got it, even if she was sheepish about being so open in public. She was always fearful of the watchful eyes of her family, scared of what cards they could play against her and Ragnarok. They had essentially cut ties with her almost completely, the young wolf bereft of any title she might have held. But she knew they liked to keep tabs on their family members, recognized or not. She never liked being watched.

When he asked about her plans, she shrugged. "Patrolling in the morning, probably. Then some lessons with the fledglings in the afternoon," she said, pausing for a moment to roll her stiff shoulders before continuing her walk alongside Ragnarok. Her pace was slightly faster than his to make up for the difference in the length of their different strides, the Aviari always trying her best to keep up with the Jay. "I suspect that Aine might put me back on the night shift soon, though, what with the influx of newcomers," she griped, huffing mostly to herself. She always hated the night shift since she'd end up sleeping through the mornings alone, groggy when she went to teach the children or talk with her tribemates. But, even if the Roc did assign her to different times, she wouldn't complain. She rarely ever did.
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Ragnarok. He/Him
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Location [IC]: El Dorado
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Played By: Gothy














#6






[Image: 6FE78l4.png]
It wasn't like he cared what she did with her day, it was mostly to fill the void of silence. He hated the silence and at least her voice wasn't too grating. Ragnarok shoved past leaves and plants until he found the path to the pyramid, grinning. He could already taste the stale meat they would have, though he wondered what kind. It would depend on what Wren had to offer. He'd lick his lips.

The news of Aine possibly moving her to night shift made him grunt. Great, so he would be alone in the den at night? That was a bullshit thing, he didn't understand why they needed to open their fucking borders to outsiders. "Yeah, great." he stated flatly. Wren didn't seem excited about that either, her routine being ruined and her weird morning ritual interrupted.

"Fuckers just need to learn on their own." he grumbled, mostly referring to the outsiders coming in. They weren't children, so why bother? If they weren't stupid, they could learn on their fucking own.

It's not like had much say anyway, the Rocs were running around and they (as far as he knew) had no real leadership. Their phoenix was still not chosen. Ragnarok wondered if he went into the temple and met their God whether he would be worthy. Ha! An Obsidian as Phoenix? As if the Crystallines would allow such a thing. He'd snort at the very thought of that.

When they approached the pyramid, Ragnarok would pause for a moment, motioning Wren up first. She was the one who would offer. "Whatta yah offer, exactly?" he prodded, curious as to what she even had. Wren had almost read his mind when he thought they could come here for a quick meal via vendor. He hoped it just didn't involve him in anyway. He'd give her a heavy look as he waited to listen to what she had to say.

What's it gonna be, sweetheart?

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