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The Next Step

Started by Rhonya, December 01, 2016, 04:35:58 PM

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Rhonya






-A few weeks ago-

Val’sharah. It was a beautiful place. I hadn’t really known what to expect when I heard it was like the Emerald Dream, or as close as the druids could get it to the actual thing without being in the dream itself. It had colours beyond comprehension, wildlife all around. New and unknown smells filled my nose at every turn and for a while I simply wandered over one of the main paths, taking in the sights and just experiencing a calm I hadn’t felt in quite a while.

The tribe was here somewhere too, but I had left them for the moment to focus on the task I had gotten a while ago from Chieftain Feraleye. At the moment I’d gotten the task we were under attack by the Legion however, so I couldn’t just have run off and leave everyone while they needed every weapon available. Something started pulling at my being though when we got here. I had to go. It was like an invisible string that connected me to something inhabiting this land and it was slowly reeling me in like a fish caught on a hook.
Lian wasn’t with me. Where he was at this point, I only had a general idea but I knew he was alright and would find me again when I would come back. Or when I needed him. But this task, I had to do alone. No weapons, no armor, just… me.

I stepped off the path into the high grasses of a plain, the trees gone for just a short opening in the woods. This way I had to go. There was no question about it, the feeling pulled me here, over the grassy plains and towards the cliffs beyond. I could see the sea now and some very black, big and threatening garrison like structure. I decided quickly to avoid getting in sight of that, it felt wrong and it looked very menacing. Even so, the pull brought me closer still. A large equine looking animal with a horn on its head followed my movements with large eyes but didn’t flee when I passed it. It was beautiful in its own way and I let it be, it wasn’t my target.

My mind kept wandering, thinking back on the first signs of the invasions. The green sky, the noise, the screams. The trembles of the ground as the infernals came down and shattered everything that happened to be under them. The deaths. My jaw clenched in anger as I remembered hearing Sadok hadn’t made it. The cubs had been safe, so at least that was something, but I hadn’t expected him to die. He’d just always been there. It was hard imagining the tribe without him and sometimes I still expected to just hear his voice and see him sitting at the campfire, making horrible puns to newbloods and giving them tasks that would have them regret ever picking him as tutor in the first place. But he was gone, and he wouldn’t come back.
I hadn’t seen Mozrogg in a while either, our interests taking us both in different directions. Which was fine, the oath we’d both sworn had been one of loyalty while it lasted, not wanting to bind ourselves blindly to one another for an eternity. So if he wanted to go his own way, that was alright with me. I’d miss our easy talks and the comfort, but he was his own orc and I wouldn’t stand in the way of how he wanted to live his life.

A branch snapped in my face and brought me back to reality, just stopping me in time before I would’ve stepped off a rock and tumbled down a cliff. I snarled softly to myself for being so careless and took a step back, not wanting to risk the rocks crumbling under my feet and dropping down anyway. I took a moment to look around. Close to the sea now, cliffs below… I sniffed and smelled a familiar smell. Pack. There were wolves down here. So that’s why I had been drawn this way, the time for the hunt had come.

Very carefully I made my way down the steep cliffside, using some larger rocks as stepping stones and finding cracks I could put my fingers and toes in, using them to get down safely. I wasn’t wearing much clothes, just some simple leathers and a belt to carry the big empty waterskin I’d taken with me. The wind was in my back, meaning the wolves wouldn’t be able to smell me just yet, their own scent strong in my nose. I jumped down the last bit, landing with a soft thud on the rocks below. I slowly made my way over to a puddle of mud resting in between of the rocks and dipped my hands in, picking up the muck and simply smeared it all over me, covering my skin and my hair, slightly hiding my scent. I could use every advantage I could get, in this case.
The next hours were spend observing and learning, the sun slowly going down over the sea, dawn setting in. This didn’t bother me much, my eyesight was fine in the dark. Sadly for me, a wolfs eyesight only improved during the night, not to mention their noses worked a million times better than mine. I wouldn’t be surprised if they had noticed me already. They were nearby now, I could see them from my hiding place. A pack of five and some pups tumbling around, playing. One of them was bigger than the others, a deep black ridge of hair going over his back towards his tail. The alpha.

He turned his head and actually looked right at me, our eyes locking. He was the one, the one I had been drawn to for weeks now, the one who called me here. He was beautiful, deep brown and red with the darkest black fur at some points. I stepped out, raising my chin and walking towards the animals. It was no use hiding, they all knew I was here. Heads turned and growls resounded around me, amplified by the cliff and the rocks surrounding us. It sounded threatening, angry, not a welcome, clearly. The alpha however stood there, his orange eyes still on me. He knew it, just as much as I did. This was our fight, just us, and one of us wouldn’t make it.
The wolf let out a low growl, but it wasn’t directed at me. The others slowly grew silent and took a bit more of a distance. They wouldn’t interfere, I hoped. I stood no chance against five wolves that worked like a pack. I didn’t even know if I stood a chance against this Alpha on my own, but I had to try. Our eyes still locked, we stepped closer to one another, a low growl building in the back of my throat as I readied myself.

Without warning, I saw him hunch back and jump and in an instant he was on me, his heavy weight actually throwing me back on the hard rocks. My arms went up and instinctively grabbed his mane of hair, the scruff of his neck, to keep his snapping jaws away from my throat. I couldn’t see anything, stars blinding my vision from the hit my skull had gotten on the rocks, but I could feel, smell and hear him only inches from my face. His teeth scraped the skin of my neck and skin tore, but I didn’t feel it. With a snarl I put my feet under his belly and heaved him off, throwing him to the side. His jaw now closed around my arm and he started to shake his head, keeping a very tight grip. I screamed out, the pain now very overwhelming as he literally was trying to rip my arm off. I had to do something, quickly, or this would be over way sooner than I expected.
My own sharp nails raked his snout, drawing blood. It distracted him for only a moment as he tried to tug me down still. My arm made a loud snapping noise. Time was running out. My fingers locked around a rock close to my feet and with all the strength I could muster I slammed it against his forehead, time and time again. His jaw loosened… and my vision returned. I was looking straight into the orange eyes, only inches from my own. The light was slowly fading from them as blood ran down his snout, mingling with his fur.

The fight had only lasted a minute or so, but it seemed like an eternity in my own mind. My arm was shattered, hanging limp. I don’t know what was wrong with it, perhaps dislocated, broken, it didn’t matter. I looked at the rock in my other hand. It was ragged and very sharp, perfect. The other wolves erupted into howling, the haunting sound surrounding me as I opened my water skin and cut a major artery in the neck of the now dead wolf, filling it to the brim with steaming hot blood. Closing it up properly with my teeth again, seeing I couldn’t use my other hand, I hung it back on my belt and got to work. Painful, slow work.

A few hours later I was staggering through the woods, carrying a skin on my back, completely covered in blood. My own and his. I walked until I could go no further and simply let myself fall over. The world went black around me and for a moment I regretted killing this majestic creature only to die out here myself shortly afterwards…

Something warm covered me. A soft groan escaped my lips and a deep voice sounded nearby, melodic and soft. Surprisingly, he was speaking in orcish.
“Rest, friend. You’re safe here. Your arm will be fine, though it will take a few weeks to properly heal.”
I opened my eyes slowly and squinted against the soft light surrounding me. There was someone standing next to the bed I was lying in. Deep purple skin, softly glowing eyes and long ears marked him as one of the night elves. I could see the wolf skin and my belt with the water skin lying on a chair nearby, carefully displayed.

So I wasn’t dead… yet. I still had to get back to the tribe though and present my catch to the Chieftain… But that would come in time. For now, I could rest. And try not to get an urge to turn on my hosts.
"For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack."

Claws

True Blood
Once a Blade Always a Blade.

Retired Right hand of the Blades.
Lived enough to be older and wiser then many pup's

Remember a journey is not a final destination.

Rhonya





I don't even know what happened. One moment I was urging Trakmar on to drink a little more. And a little more. And suddenly, here we were together, in his den. It was chilly outside, the sun rising slowly over the sand plains as morning dawned. But I wasn't chilly at all. There were two arms around me, holding me close, together with a fur draped over both of us. His breathing was slow and even, his enormous broad chest resting against my back. Curled up together for the warmth, though I felt extremely small next to him. It was a familiar feeling though, a feeling of being accepted once again. I closed my eyes again and let the memories take me back.

It had started long ago between us, when I just arrived with the tribe, several years ago. The rebellion had just started and everyone was tense, on edge, nervous about what was to come, what the Horde was going to have to face. Their own sworn Warchief. I had just made my way up from the jungle, traveling around to find something for myself, a place to belong, to learn about my own kind and perhaps stay with them. Trakmar was the first I ran into. He found me in the wilds and stuck with me outside camp when I got thrown out due to my own mistake. If you could call it that, I was still of opinion I had been right, and Trakmar had agreed with me.

I'd been wild, new, unknown with orcish ways, I didn't know how to act, how to be what I wanted so much to be, to belong to. Trakmar had taught me the fundamentals. He taught me how to respect, who to watch, who to listen to. And more important, he taught me how to function in a group while being used to doing everything on my own. He’d had to do the same, once.
The bonding didn’t really happen until Aszhara though, both of us not happy with the war, the area, the fact we would have to go into siege and be locked up in Orgrimmar. We spend the time hunting together, just enjoying each other’s company before we wouldn’t see each other for a while. I refused to go into Orgrimmar, the city too big, too strange and in the middle of a siege, I wouldn’t be able to handle it. So I remained outside, guarding the tunnel to make sure our forces were not attacked in the back while they didn’t expect it.
It was an easy going relationship, both of us just happy to have one another, though some pressure started to seep through of Trakmar really wanting another child and me not feeling entirely ready for it. Eventually it all went wrong and the entire thing shattered to pieces, my own fault. I broke his heart, his trust, everything. He broke my face. The scars were still there on my cheek, forever marking my shame, the thing I’d done to him. He had answered in anger when more started to break apart, nearly killing Sadok, the one who I was with at the time instead. A breach was created between us, something I thought would never be able to be crossed again.
But my anger and sadness and shame had mellowed over time and I was forced to see it â€"had- been my fault all along, he had just reacted like the hurt animal he was.

That is what I intended to tell him last night. Loosen him up a little with some ale, make him more receptive to my talk, relax him. And somehow it ended up with us abandoning all responsibility all together and just going with our instincts, as we used to do a long time ago. The breach wasn’t gone, but there was a sturdy bridge now, connecting us once again. Perhaps in time we could mend it almost entirely, though the scars would always remain for the both of us, of that I was sure.
I turned my head a little so I could see his sleeping face, pressed against my shoulder. He was still an orc that could never be called handsome and his age was creeping up to him slowly, but the strong lines of his jaw and simply his entire bulk showed he still possessed a big deal of strength, of a will to live. Age was just a number, he’d proven that to me before.

For a while I just watched him sleep, his huge arms a comforting weight around me without suffocating me. It was like all those years apart had never happened. It felt like coming home.
"For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack."

Claws

And home is where the heart is.
Good stuff
True Blood
Once a Blade Always a Blade.

Retired Right hand of the Blades.
Lived enough to be older and wiser then many pup's

Remember a journey is not a final destination.