OOC Hey! It's Ruki! :D Been workin' on a new skin, which is why I haven't posted much, and it's finally done! Mostly anyway. Change it to Umber Fields and you should see all the fun. There are bound to be a few kinks in the display, so please tell me if there's anything wrong, or if something just looks odd to you, like if the font's too small. :C I'm thinkin' it might be. Staff ppl should pm me with 100x100 icons. Also the mini-profile circle images are 125x125. I thought they were 100x100 at first, but no, I forgot about the circle border edits. |D Couldn't have gotten it done without the codes from the people in the credits, so silent shoutout to them. Staytuned for more weird updates. Might do some re-arranging of the boards. Anywho, hope you like it!
OLD: 4/04 Ruki says: NEW SEASON! Spring has started! We might start advertising places again now that midterms are over for all of us, and posting is back up. Not exactly OOC news, but Enheit Alpha Sinead has PUPPIES. If you wanna adopt the last one, the adopt thread is HERE! Ody and Raven have their own rules for this, so read them and adopt a pup if y'all want. SPRANG BRAAAAKE.
2/26/15 WHY HELLO! Guess who it is again. Ruki. I've been busy condensing rules and tips into a handy updated guidebook here on THIS PAGE! with the help of my fellow staff buddies. It's super important to read and make sure you get all the fun info down. The newest rule is about ALPHA ACTIVITY, so be sure to read the Lands and Territories section. The gist of it is that yall leaders gotta post once a week. If you don't POOF. No more land for you. This is a new rule, but if you haven't posted within the next few days and haven't been active in a while, you best get on that 'cause yo' land's 'bout to be snatched.
IC Spring is here at last and the land is beginning to flourish with new life once more. Young animals are plentiful and slowly others are rousing out of hibernation. April showers rain down, and springtime flowers are budding out from their winter beds. SPRING will last from April 1st - June 1st
With each time that Daleia returned to the Regnen border, she assured herself that it was not because of Rosk. Each time she found the borders clear, plagued by only old scents, she would return to the dens with a sense of heaviness that made her sick to her stomach. No matter how much she told herself that she didn’t care for Rosk one way or another, she knew deep down that this was a lie. She would always curl against the back wall of her den after these fruitless trips, burying her nose in her tail and lying still until her hunger drove her out again, or Fenrir calling for her. Regnen had been so very quiet lately, something that was new and unusual in Daleia’s eyes. Most of the places that she’d previously called home that been bustling and busy, with new sklavins coming and going quickly; when one passed, another would be brought in hours later. Somehow, the calm of Regnen seemed almost…foreboding.
Despite the realization that she was behaving foolish, Daleia rose just as she did each day, shaking the clutches of sleep as she slipped from the dens. For a moment she paused, glancing around, searching for any sign or indication that something had changed. Nothing. Relaxing, she slipped forward to search for Fenrir. Upon discovering that he was nowhere in sight, she deemed it safe to hunt, and to check the borders. Off she went, tiny paws crunching leaves beneath them as she slipped through the trees, her bushy tail swaying behind her. It wasn’t long before she happened across a hare, much like she had the first day she’d encountered the unpleasant Rosk. This time, however, the creature had no time to flee across the borders before Daleia was upon it, sinking her teeth into its fur and shaking it violently until it stilled. Satisfied with herself, she laid down to eat it, consuming it entirely. For once, she had not bothered to offer the catch to her dominor. It was the tiniest act of defiance.
When she’d finished she stood, stretching her muscles before starting off at a trot towards the border. Perhaps I should check the stream again, she thought to herself as she came to the area where Regnen met Schreien. She paused only long enough to cast a glance over her shoulder, searching for any signs of movement. When she found none she proceeded, slipping into the trees as she made her way towards the last place she’d encountered the fellow Dhole.
As usual, he was not there. Not entirely surprised anymore, Daleia moved to drink deeply from the stream, the frigid water gliding swiftly across her tongue. When she finished she moved to sit on the bank, tail wrapping around her haunches as she observed her surroundings. It was…quiet. Just like Regnen. Sighing to herself, she remained where she was, no longer eager to return to her pack. Even if she had no one to keep her company here, it was better than tiptoeing around Fenrir in some vain attempt to cool his temper.
NOTES: Sorry for the suckiness xD | WORDS: 516 | TAG: ¿℟ᵿҝɸ
“On the road again—Goin' places that I've never been, Seein' things that I may never see again And I can't wait to get on the road againnnn”[break][break]
His gruff vocals sounded out through the Schrien Forest, disturbing the otherwise silent world. A flock of nearby birds, flustered by the new noise, flitted off their woodland perch and into the distance in front of the aging irish wolfhound. Amused by the commotion his arrival caused he threw his mustachioed head back letting loose a hearty laugh. He strode forward with ease through the snowbanks between Schrien’s towering coniferous giants, glancing skyward periodically. [break][break]
Behir didn’t know the name of this forest, or if it had a name at all, for he was still relatively new to the land of Ravensbruck. He’d crossed over the mountains near the end of spring just before the snow filled the scarcely navigable paths through the border, so he guessed he’d only been in these lands for a few months. He’d befriended a small artic fox family a season prior to his trip and they acted as his guides through the towering glacier maze to Ravensbruck. As grueling as the trek had been, he loved every second of his adventure with the vulpes.[break][break]
Through his journey they told him what they knew about his destination. He knew the dominant species were wolves, which wasn’t surprising considering the similar demographic of the surrounding countries. What did surprise him was that this land still practiced slavery, and the foxes warned him multiple times to be careful around the place they called “the rock” and of roving bands of slavers. Behir assured them he would be fine, and they seemed to believe him, but as he moved deeper into the pine forest he remembered to heed their words. However, his gait still spoke of experienced confidence, and his sense of adventure couldn’t be stifled by the potential danger, so he pressed onward.[break][break]
Gradually the forest opened up to a clearing with a small stream trickling through, still unfrozen by the winds of winter. As he stopped to drink he noticed a fox-like creature sitting a good ways away from him at the edge of the running water. The other folk he’d met in Ravensbruck so far had been pleasant, and the little fox looked like she could use some company. He slowly walked over and as he did noticed the fox-creature was both a female, and also didn’t look quite like a fox. ‘Mus’ be a local thing.’, he chuckled to himself as he tilted his head and addressed her. “Well, howdy there, little fox!” He seated himself facing her on the same side of the bank, slouching to try to get more eye level with the tiny red thing. “Yall mind if I rest these legs a mine here fo’ a while? You seem like you could use a little company.” He smiled, not planning on moving even if the little vixen said no.
496// ⋆RavɛnDALEIA // You're fiiine <3 If you want you can have behir ask "What's a tiny thing like you doin' out here all by your lonesome?" But I didn't add it in case we wanna go on about her not being a fox instead. .u.''
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For some time Daleia remained beside the water, staring into the depths. It was a pleasant day, the sheer volume of her coat keeping her warm against the gusts of winter wind. They were deep into the season now; in several weeks, spring would approaching, bringing new life everywhere. The leaves would populate the trees again, sprigs of grass would sprout from beneath the snow, and she-wolves across the country would settle into their dens to birth tiny squalling pups. The thought brought a smile to Daleia’s face. She herself had no desire to become a mother just yet – specifically not for Fenrir, who was more than double her size. Besides, any pups she might introduce to the world would be considered slaves, and that was not something Daleia wished to live with. She was relieved, more than anything, that she had not conceived from her time with Rosk. So consumed was she by these thoughts that she did not notice the lumbering creature who’d joined her until he was leaning over her curiously.
“Well, howdy there, little fox! Yall mind if I rest these legs a mine here fo’ a while? You seem like you could use a little company.”
Unable to stop the way her body jolted, she leaned away from him, making herself even smaller as she crouched down. The alarm was clear in her eyes as she gazed at him, as well as the confusion. What was he? A dog, she thought, only because she’d seen one once before when she was still a pup nuzzled against her mother’s side. That one hadn’t looked anything like this brute, however. He was large and so incredibly furry, like some kind of massive hairy deer. She tilted her head just slightly, brown eyes narrowing with the sudden realization that he didn’t know what she was, either. And his accent…everything about the odd animal confused Daleia.
”Fox?” She echoed, straightening and puffing her furry chest out. ”I certainly can’t tell you where you may and may not rest, but fox?”
Snorting softly to herself she gazed up at him, having to crane her head to even see him. He seemed amiable enough, fortunately – Daleia doubted she would have been able to outrun his long gangly legs even if she tried. He was quite a bit older than she was as well, something that had her furrowing her brow. Was it something about her that attracted old men, she wondered? At least this one’s not a grump.
”I am a Dhole,” she finally informed him, unable to hide the tiny smirk that graced her muzzle then. ”And as much of a dog as you are. At least, I think that’s what you are?” Her statement trailed off into a question as her eyes wandered across his features again. Odd.
NOTES: Sorry for any typos, I'm at school and too lazy to check >.> | WORDS: 471 | TAG:¿℟ᵿҝɸ / BEHIR
TALK || THINK || TEXT || THEM[break][break] Her initial reaction caused Behir’s wiry eyebrows to fold in an apologetic way. The little thing was perhaps just over half his size, and even with his slouching posture he still looked faintly intimidating. Startled reactions were something the dog had become used to over the years, especially once realizing that hounds such as himself were far from common outside his country homeland. You combine his odd appearance with his daunting size, and there was bound to be some initial shock and unintentional pressure. In his younger days, when he first began traveling, he took offence to folks’ shirking reactions. They acted as if he was some kind of freak monster, which to them he may have appeared to be, but his kind heart bled in confusion after each accusatory glance. However, as he aged he learned others usually meant no harm in their reactions, and gradually the minor pain turned to mild amusement. As her fear turned to curiosity, then boldness, the old hound smiled.[break][break]
”Fox? I certainly can’t tell you where you may and may not rest, but fox? I am a Dhole, and as much of a dog as you are.”[break][break]
Behir gave an amused laugh at how indignantly the little creature responded. Clearly he had struck a nerve on accident, and it had something to do with her not being a fox. She certainly looked like a fox, with her red and white coat and adorable little black snippet on her nose. Her height was about the same as one too, but maybe a little bit bigger. Now it was his turn to tilt his head, wondering if she was trying to pull one over on the old boy. [break][break]
He wracked his brain for any shreds of knowledge that could pertain to the fem’s species, unsure if he should believe her or not. Judging by reaction alone, she seemed pretty sure of herself, but he had met a coyote that was convinced he was a mountain lion before, so confidence wasn’t always a good measure. Then again, she had no reason to lie to him, so maybe here in Ravensbruck there were these things called Dholes that looked almost exactly like foxes, but weren’t. If she wanted to be a Dhole, then sure, as far as Behir was concerned, she could be one.[break][break]
“At least, I think that’s what you are? Regardless…I’m Daleia.”[break][break]
He was so focused on figuring out just how a Dhole was different than a fox, he forgot she mentioned they were dogs of some kind. As it turned out, she didn’t know what he was either, but her guess was spot on. Once again his gruff laugh parted his greying mustache as it left his mouth. “Well, Daleia the Dhole, I suppose I owe you an apology! I hope you can forgive an old man’s senility for mistakin’ yall for your distant cousin, though you do bear a striking resemblance. ” He dipped his head and winked wryly. “Folk call me Behir, and as yous so smartly guessed I am a dog. Irish Wolfhound to be truthful, or Scottish Deerhound, I learned, depending on who yall ask.” Behir grew up knowing he was some sort of Irish Wolfhound, so being told he was wrong by someone a few years back was a really entertaining moment for him. He guessed it was somewhat like what he had just done to Daleia, although probably not nearly as wrong. [break][break]
“You sure you’re not a fox?” The old dog laughed, clearly not trying to offend his companion. “Relax, little lady, I’m only jokin’. I only got into Ravensbruck a season ago ‘fore the frost hit, so sorry ‘bout that. Are, what’d you call them… Dhole’s! Are yall a common thing around here? I ain’t never seen one of you before, and I've seen a lot.” Behir hoped he wasn’t being offensive somehow. He was genuinely curious about Ravensbruck, and locals were the best, and most entertaining, way to learn. [break][break]
658 // ⋆Ravɛn / DALEIA // Finally replied. xD <3 No bey, she's not a fox
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The more time that Daleia spent listening to the brute talk, the more she realized how very odd he was. Not that she had room to talk, of course, when she attracted stares and questions everywhere that she went. But regardless, something about his rugged appearance and strange accent thoroughly piqued her interest. Never before had she heard of an Irish Wolfhound, or a Scottish Deerhound for that matter, and she could only wonder what strange place he hailed from. Perhaps he wondered the same of her, but before she could voice her questions, he was introducing himself and asking one of his own. Behir, she thought briefly, committing the name to memory before responding to the large male.
”I have not seen many Dhole in these parts at all,” she admitted, a tiny frown flitting across her muzzle. ”I have met…one other. A bit older than myself, and not very kind.” The last word, despite the implications, drew a smile from her. Often times she found herself thinking of Rosk, and she could not bring herself to hate him as much as she had upon their first meeting, not after what they’d shared. While it was becoming blatantly clear to her that there was a very good chance that Rosk would not say the same concerning her, she found that she was glad she’d met him. Never before had she met a free Dhole before him – she’d been born into slavery, and her siblings had suffered the same fate as she had. It had given her spirits a much needed boost.
”I’d like to assume that if there were once scores of Dholes here in this land that they had enough sense to flee. We are too small of a species to survive comfortably here without finding ourselves at the mercy of Dominors,” she murmured, a touch of spite weaved through her words. She could not hide how disgusted she was by the fact that it was her size alone that dictated her fate. No matter how many times she was faced with the realization, she never truly got used to it. She turned to look at Behir, trying to hide the envy that shone in her eyes. No one would enslave hime just because he was different – no, he was far too large for that. She envied him, although she never would have dared to admit it; her pride would not allow it.
”And what about you?” She asked him, tilting her head out of curiosity. ”Have you met very many Irish Wolfhounds in your time? Or dogs at all, for that matter?” There were vague rumors that she’d heard surrounding a particularly interesting creature that lurked in Einheit, a spotted dog who’d called the desert home for some time, but Daleia had never seen the dog herself, so she could not confirm whether or not this was true. Spots seemed like quite an odd pattern for a creature to sport, dog or no; there were none that she could see on Behir, anyways. There were clearly very many different kinds of dogs, and the one who stood before her was certainly…unique.
NOTES: She is BAFFLED~ by him eheh | WORDS: 524 | TAG:¿℟ᵿҝɸ / BEHIR
TALK || THINK || TEXT || THEM[break][break] As Daleia spoke of her kin, distaste permeated her originally pleasant tone. He understood immediately why once the topic of Dominors was brought up. Unfortunately, it surprised him that something so out of one’s control, such as size, could dictate a creature’s future. Her kind simply being small should not demand that they be taken advantage of. In fact, using anyone against their will was immoral in his mind, so this being the fate of all her kind was a rather disheartening revelation. [break][break]
A mix of pity and muted passion flitted behind his aged eyes when the dhole looked at him, not because of the tinge of envy she displayed, but from his own feeling of helplessness. Here she was, a damsel in distress, and Behir had not the slightest idea how to help her. If he could share his height with her or give away some of his unintentional intimidation he surely would, but having not the power of God he was not privy to such gifts. What little he knew of dominors one thing was certain –they were not ones he could challenge by himself, let alone do so without retribution, so there was little he could probably do. Still, it did not stop him from pondering the possibility, but his attention was diverted by a question from the fem. [break][break]
”And what about you? Have you met very many Irish Wolfhounds in your time? Or dogs at all, for that matter?”[break][break]
A fair question, and one he had often answered. The next question after being asked what he was always related to more of his breed, so he was used to this explanation and didn’t mind speaking on it at all. “I don’t believe I have met another of my kin exactly, but other dogs, where I came from y’alls kind were the rare ones. If I ever saw your kin back home, my master, he was a tall-walker, he’d yell ‘Behir! You go git them there varmints.’ And I’d run y’all outta town.” He chuckled mirthfully. Back home he would probably have chased a little doggy like her on sight, as his master was not too fond of outsiders due to their tendency to make snacks of his livestock. But as he traveled he learned that his land was one of the few to have these two-legged creatures, and in return lacked their four-legged companions. Sure, he’d been through dog-heavy locations, but it seemed that wolves and their cousins were much more common than their domesticated brethren. [break][break]
“But I guess master fo’ me is a bit differ’nt than for you.” He frowned, disappointed in the difference between their definitions. “We was like brothers, I s’pose. Worked together, but like... family. All us on the farm was. This whole ‘dominer’ thing… and s’lavin, I don’t quite understand. Maybe it’s what we called ‘yokel ignernce’ or somethin’. I have it pretty bad I reckon.” His brow furrowed, genuinely perplexed by the concept of slavery and he shook his head, smiling sadly. “I’m sorry. Here I am goin’ on ‘bout y’alls customs. I can tell yous a few stories ‘bout the places I been, if’n you’d like instead of yous explainin’ y’alls ideals to me. I got a few good'ns 'bout foxes stuck in pipes.” Every time he brought the topic up to the few others he’d met on the road in Ravensbruck they’d all been unwilling or too afraid to talk about it with him, so he just assumed it was a rude thing to bring up, much like the whole ‘cud’ thing with cows, or cannibalism with chickens. He was curious, but didn’t want to make his new friend uncomfortable.
603 [break][break] ⋆Ravɛn / DALEIA [break][break] Wasn't sure if Dal would want to explain stuff to OLD MAN BEY, so I left an out, I think? Lemmy know. <3
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