Rushing Water, Call Us Forth [Merona]

[Wolf]

CÚTHAIL

And I don't understand how you can keep me in chains
And every waking hour, I feel you taking power from me and I can't live
Repeating the scenery over again

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Cúthail, (pronounced coo-hill, like a dove on a hill, he always thought to himself) trotted along, weaving through the tall evergreen trees of the forest. His ears caught the sounds of the falls up ahead, and he shivered with anticipation. He hadn't seen them since his first year of roaming, two years ago, and couldn't wait to see them again.

The small, lithe body slid close to the ground, simply through height, not a hunter's crouch; and the young brute's dark pelt blended with the equally dark surroundings. Cúthail had a soft creamed belly, with rich reds and browns splashed across his legs and face like he had run through a patch of mud and blood. His ears were tipped in black and edged in deep brown, the color of bark, while his back was a rippling mess of black and gray blotched fur. Silver eyes shone from his face, with a long muzzle and quite a leggy build, though he was only about 28 inches tall and of around 70 pounds in weight. All in all, a fairly small male.

At this particular moment, he slid out of the forest and into a clearing, looking straight up so that his ears touched his back, he bent so far, eyes wide in remembered awe. The pure force of thousands of tons of water pouring down off a towering peak far, far overhead, crashing down to earth in a mighty spray of misty rainbows- it was overpowering to the senses. The roaring, rushing sounds; the complete lack of scent; the slippery ground beneath his paws. It was truly awe inspiring, and Cúthail drank it all in, sitting in the shade as far as he could get from the damp spray whilst being in view of the raging flows. It was amazing, pure and simple.

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MERONA

Beneath a pale blue sky slipped a tawny she-wolf, her pace a slow lope and her eyes flickering worry. The way her tan fur wove through the trees was painfully careful and deliberate, her emotions emanating from her with every anxious flick of her ears and the low hang of her pale tail. She'd fled to find some sense of peace after the barrage of her new packmates' introductions. Aditi, the passionate, demanding wolf from Vernado's previous reign; Phrino, the flirtatious lover and, from what she could tell, Wicca's previous mate; Wicca, the jealous, hasty she-wolf with a seemingly undying affection for the golden male that so easily rejected her; Shard, the new, arrogant Alpha whose iron gaze was the thing she feared most next to his teeth; Javaar, the previous Beta and present unknown.

She knew the only thing that would calm her after the fray that had ensued. Her steps thrummed rhythmically against the solid, pine covered ground as she rounded the nearest bend. Ahead, she could hear the roaring of the falls, the sweet symphony that called her forward. Only once before she'd been here, taken by her previous master for reasons still unknown to her. Vaguely, she remembered the circumstances. She'd been consequently beaten when she had recklessly embraced the water's reflective surface. He'd quickly become notorious in her mind for severe and sporadic beatings and things of the like. What he'd wanted of her, he'd gotten. Merona shivered, her eyes clamping shut to the memories. Those were the thoughts she'd forcefully suppressed for so long.. None of it was ever worth revisiting.

Her mind diverted, Merona continued to steadily make her way to the falls, a ripple of pleasure passing over her coat as she stood at the edge of the water. Her claws hit the briefest tip of the cool liquid and Merona silently chirped her delight. Swiftly she spun on her paws and dove forward, a splash erupting around her. It had always been in her mind to act as she wished. The feeling of the wind through her fur was a beautiful thing, with the way she could move as she wished with no one but herself to dictate forms and direction. Water soaked her pelt through as she sank into the pool, pumping her legs as she pressed further into the waterfall's inclining depths. This was bliss.

Merona's pale head broke the surface as she came up for air only seconds later. Almost immediately she noticed the other wolf. His eyes were glazed over as he watched the falls, his attention grasped by the ferocity and pounding of the water's force. Merona was ignorant of such things; falling water or beautiful landscapes didn't put her in awe. There was no way to express that for her. Freedom. Now that was something to gape over. A prickle of worry washed over her and she floated a few steps backwards in response; what exactly was he doing here in the first place? A wolf come to drag her back to the pack at Shard's command? Merona lifted her lips only slightly, unsure of the intruder's intentions.

And who might you be?

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[Wolf]

CÚTHAIL

I see, can't have you, can't leave you, there 'cause I must sometimes see you
And I don't understand how you can keep me in chains

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Cúthail jerked from his revery at the sound of a loud splash, and froze as he saw a wolf floating in the water, staring at him. Fear flooded his body and he took a few quick steps backwards, tripping over a branch and falling into the brush that surrounded the perfect clearing. As he fell backwards, leaves rushing up to engulf him in the bushes and hide him in the tall grass from the intruding stranger, his head banged against a thick branch that was encircled in sharp, tugging brambles and twigs. His cry of pain was almost swallowed by the roaring water, but not the swaying pain in his gate as he stood up and shook his head clear. The edge of his vision was black and foggy, but he fought down the urge to faint and turned his attention back to the wolf.

She, for it was a fairly timid looking femme who had scared the crap out him so, was a strongly built she-wolf with cream, tan, and faintly red fur, and shocking blue eyes. Cúthail imagined she'd be rather attractive when dry, though at the moment her thick fur was plastered to her sides, and floating out in soft clouds around her in the water. He smiled with embarrassed friendliness, and shook his head once more.

Sorry about that... I don't really take well to strangers, and scare rather easily. Please don't be afraid of me, I'm here for the water, much like yourself.

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MERONA

To Merona's surprise, her arrival had startled the male more than she'd expected. At the sight of her, he hastily stumbled backward, feet sprawling and his balance lost. Merona's eyes widened in shock at first, unsure of how to respond. Half of her wanted to laugh aloud at the sheer absurdity of the male's actions, but she held her silent laughter back, instead padding out of the waterfall's pool quickly. She bounded over to his side and gave a questioning sniff as he struggled to find his feet. Other than understandable embarrassment, he seemed to be okay. Merona could only quirk a brow as he sputtered out an excuse for her.

Sorry about that... I don't really take well to strangers, and scare rather easily. Please don't be afraid of me, I'm here for the water, much like yourself.

The beige female dipped her head in sympathy and blinked softly, restraining a half-smile as to not offend him in anyway. She knew now that he only came for the falls and within seconds her fur relaxed, the ears losing their alertness and flipping behavior. Merona let her eyes gaze over his pelt slowly, the blue eyes still wary as they flicked from his body to his eyes, judging his reaction. She'd grown used to keeping a mindful gauge on another's temper while examining them; she wanted to take in as much information as she could; questions unable to be spoken wouldn't do her much good. She had to find answers to her inquiries alone, unaided.

She let herself gaze at the mix of red and brown, watched how the scarlet tips mingled and swam with the deep mochas in his sea of fur. She had always held a keen interest in color, adoring how the hues would fade and coincide with each other, noting the patterns and vibrant splashes, the dabs of verdant greens and striking blues. He was a beautiful picture of a true, rustic copper; the russet faded to reveal a warm, cream-colored undercoat, matched in opposition by his two, black-trimmed ears. It was cute, how bold his ears ran against the lighter tawny flecks, and Merona smiled sweetly in return for her indulgence. She followed the hazel stamped coat with her eyes again, the color merging to a simplistic, grey-scale fusion of speckles. It was a strange pattern to see on a wolf of his stature; a rarity in her division. Forcing herself not to stare, Merona pulled her eyes from the odd, stippled coat, forcing herself to meet his eyes.

His eyes. They were a pale grey like the ending of his coat. Different, however, in their intensity, their energy and fervor. Merona blushed slightly, opening her mouth to compliment him. As soon as she tried to speak, the air constricted, her voice nothing but a silent whisper that longed to roar. Embarassment at her forgetfulness rose within her and Merona shied away slightly, closing her eyes in sorrow. This would always plague her, always be the reason she was an outcast in packs, a loner. She had no song to echo in pack ranks, no sweet lullaby to display for the world. She was only the halted voices of her subconscious, the obstructed questions and curiousities.

You probably think I'm stupid, staying mute like this.

Merona's eyes hardened and she forced herself not to glare at the male in her hostility towards Eperna. She had always been told that she had been born mute for a reason. What reason was this? What had she done to cause such a wrath? She wouldn't believe she was the reason this had been placed on her. She had done no wrong, that she was confident in. Rolling her eyes, Merona gave her coat a few good shakes; she'd realized in her contemplation of the male's coat that her own was sopping with water, flat pressed against her body like a river fish. She was much skinnier without all of her usual fluff, and again her nervous burned her skin fiery. What about him made her so anxious? Merona didn't dare look at the rusty male again, but instead bowed her head in respect.

I'm so sorry for my extreme rudeness. I'm usually not like this.

If he didn't think she was crazy now, maybe there could something deeper her than initial, startled reactions. Pretty cute, must admit.

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[Wolf]

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[atrb=background,http://i485.photobucket.com/albums/rr217/dragon_rider_2200/cuthailtable_bg.png] Cúthail's keen eyes caught the opening of the female's maw, and the embarrassment in her eyes as she quickly closed it again. Curiosity flooded him. Was she shy? When her eyes closed and her head dipped just barely, he saw the flash of pain in those blue depths. With a soft, questioning half-step forward, he tilted his head to the side just barely. You okay, miss? Sorry if I gave you a scare,

[/b] Warm worry filled his voice as he waited for a reply of some sort, and he sat on his red and pepper splotched hind end. Cautiously he reached a single hind paw up and scratched at his head, trying to tug the brambles that had caught in the fur of his right cheek and ear free. A soft yelp emitted from his throat, but he patiently tugged and bit where he could, slowly clearing where he had hit the bramble covered branch with his thick furred face and neck.

Ever the observer, as was his way, Cúthail caught the hardened edge in the female's eyes, and his ears angled backwards worriedly. He hoped she didn't plan to attack him for scaring her, the brute was exactly the opposite of that particular name of his genders'. Brute he was not, ever avoiding fights where he could. When he could not, he simply gave in and took what he was given, so long as he was allowed to escape with his life. The tangled web of knotted fur and scars that were barely visible when he stood with his head down or at a normal height, was very obvious as he tipped his head back to claw at a particularly stubborn barb in the thick mud and cream fur of his neck and throat. On his chest and neck, the fur hung long, thick, and well groomed. Just over the positioning of the jugular, however, the web was a nasty mess of scars and torn out clumps of fur that had never grown back after that particular attack.

Just thinking of that day gave Cúthail pause, as ever since he had been triple cautious about approaching females. But this one had approached him. Hopefully she wouldn't get her daddy to strangle him, as the last one had before fleeing from him. My name is Cúthail, by the way.[/b] He told her, voice wary and eyes darting from side to side shyly and nervously while he continued to struggle with the many tiny burrs and twigs buried in his terribly lustrous fur. His voice rolled over his name with a slight Irish lilt, pronouncing it coo-hill, the accent mostly hidden from most of his sentences. Whenever he grew upset or agitated it grew more and more obvious, until almost uncomprehensible levels at near panic, but for now it was mostly buried.


Voice Mind Story

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MERONA

"You okay, miss? Sorry if I gave you a scare,"

The moment he said it, Merona jerked her head up, the blue eyes insistent as she shook her head back and forth. It was with a certain earnest that she responded, trying to get him to understand her mute response. She didn't want him to think he'd scared her and certainly didn't want him to assume that she disliked his company in anyway. It was soothing, being with another wolf for once. One who wasn't pestering her about the silent language she spoke, prodding her for information she could never give. He'd treated her like a normal wolf for once. So far, she reminded herself. It stung like a bee that she couldn't reassure the male any further of her contentment around him; just annoying and trivial as she focused on his next words.

My name is Cúthail, by the way.

The way he spoke was different, a harsher, more discordant noise than she was used to. Merona pricked her ears and lifted her brow slightly before quickly dropping the question. Maybe he wouldn't want to explain that. It was hardly noticeable anyways. Shuffing her paws, Merona glanced up at the male with a hint of apprehension in her eyes. She wasn't sure what to do. She couldn't tell him her name or explain herself. Heck, she probably looked ridiculous, just sitting and not talking. Out of nervous habit, Merona began to lick her paw, running it across her ears in a bashful, nervous display.

I really like your name. I'm Merona.

Dolefully, the beige female straightened her legs, trying to sit in a more respectful pose. She felt slightly intimidated by the male's silence, and still her tail slide across the ground in a visual display of happiness. He was pretty adorable. Red waves of embarrassment washed over Merona at the thought; what would he see in a female like herself? She was flawed, she was broken. Never would she be able to tell him her dreams and desires, howl into the starry night skies beside him as a mate. Being any wolf's mate was completely out of the question. Slowly, her tail slowed, her eyes glazed with self-sorrow.

When she had been smaller, she had prayed to Eperna day and night. Please let me speak. Please. Constantly, consistently. She had never wavered in her devotion to the summer's striking goddess, never fallen asleep on prayer-weak paws. She had committed herself to her gods and gotten nothing in return. A sliver of resentment burned her belly but Merona quickly shoved it away. There was nothing to be done about her voice now. She had given up hope of being allowed a voice, an opinion. Somewhere along the ways of being a sklavin, the aspirations had been beaten out. With a desperate glare at the sky and a mocking huff, her blue eyes searched her invisible adversary out.

Eperna, why? Why me?

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