Just because I love the civets in the Vale. I even managed to snag a rare-quality of each, adult and kitten, and they're both leveled to 25 already. Enjoy the cute.
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"We should sit outside, you said. It's a nice day, you said." Pitch eyed Lark suspiciously. "If I didn't think I knew better, I'd say you planned this."
Lark said nothing, though she didn't bother hiding her grin. Her eyes stayed on her son, however, as she supported Loren in a sitting position in front of her. Loren's attention in turn was focused on the small golden animal that was creeping up to sniff at his toes.
The civet- not a weasel, as Pitch had thought until Lark corrected him- had shown up a day ago, although Pitch hadn't paid it much attention then. Pandarian animals seemed to be extremely friendly and trusting, if the number of critters that had taken to following him around were any indication. The little civet was just one more of those, and he'd figured it would lose interest like all the rest, and he'd never see it again.
But this one had not only been waiting for them this afternoon, it had apparently brought its parents along too. Going by scent, it was the mother civet that kept dancing around them just within view, while the father was much bolder. He'd already tried to climb up Pitch's side to get a better sniff at his face, an attempt that Pitch had ended by shaking him off and switching to his elven shape. The male civet had left him alone after that and was now curled into a ball to one side, watching his offspring interact with the baby.
Loren chortled as the baby civet's whiskers tickled his toes, followed by a quick tongue-swipe. The little critter sneezed, then turned and capered off a little ways to roll around in the grass. Loren watched it in fascination as Lark finally turned to her mate.
"I doubt they're going to go anywhere, babe, not if they've been hanging around this long," she told him. "You might want to accept the fact that you've been adopted."
Pitch mmphed. "They might have asked first," he grumbled, drawing another broad grin from Lark. "Well, now you know how I feel sometimes," she said, nodding toward Quiloe and Komah, who were lounging in the shade nearby. Komah's eyes opened briefly as he rumbled a reply, which made her chuckle. Pitch raised an eyebrow at her. "Do I want to know what he said?"
She grinned wickedly at him. "He suggested you think up names for them." Pitch just sighed.
The male chose that moment to come up to Lark, approaching her from the side and out of Loren's reach- he'd already had his tail pulled a couple times. She reached over to pet him and he chirred, arching his back up catlike to meet her fingers. She glanced back at Pitch, growing a bit more serious.
"Look at it this way, babe. Are they bothering you in any way? Do you need to feed them or clean after them?" Pitch shook his head no. "You know the answer to that. All they do is show up and follow me around, then go off by themselves when I get back here." He waved a hand at the Shrine of Seven Stars behind them.
"Well then," she replied, "why not let them stay around? They are cute, and they might wind up being useful."
Pitch remained silent for a minute, watching the two civets with a thoughtful frown. Finally he shrugged. "I'll have to try and teach Ishnu to leave them alone. And if they do decide to move indoors, I hope you remember it was your idea." Lark just snickered.
The young one wandered over to Pitch and nuzzled under his knee, making a cozy little nest for itself. Pitch started gently scratching its back, and it wriggled around to lick at his fingers before curling up to sleep.
Showing posts with label IC:Lark. Show all posts
Showing posts with label IC:Lark. Show all posts
Monday, November 5, 2012
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Loren
Oh my golly, it's an actual story post! /gasp
Yea, my writer's block? The one that's persisted over the last several months? It hasn't been fun. But at least now I know that if it happens again, all I need to do to fix it is have my characters have a baby... >.>
Also? This was fun, and now I want to do Loren arts. :D
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Shad had left almost as soon as they determined that mother and baby were both healthy. Pitch couldn't blame him; it was probably closer to morning rather than night by now. He walked Alanon and a yawning Shaurria to the door, then went back upstairs to the bedroom. Lark was still in bed, of course, with Loren cradled carefully in her lap. She stared at the baby in fascination, gently running one finger over his tiny fist as he lay sleeping.
She looked up when Pitch sat down beside her, giving him a smile that almost hid how tired she was. "He looks like you," she said softly. Pitch leaned over to peer at his son. "Yea, I guess he does," he agreed. "He's got more of your coloring, though."
They both lay there together watching the sleeping baby, Lark shifting over to lean on his shoulder. He sensed when she started to doze off and nudged her gently, asking her, "Do you want me to take him so you can sleep?"
Lark stirred herself awake at his words. "No, I'm fine," she answered, though she still sounded tired. "He'll need to eat soon, won't he? I need to be awake for that." Pitch chuckled quietly, and she frowned. Before she could say anything, he bent to kiss her forehead, then gathered Loren up. "Sleep," he said softly. "I'll wake you, don't worry." She just sighed, then settled back against the pillows. Within moments she was fast asleep.
* * * * *
A whimper pulled Pitch from sleep. It was still dark, but the faint touch of grey outside the window hinted at dawn's approach. He slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb Lark; she stirred in her sleep but didn't wake. Silently he padded over to the cradle.
Loren lay quietly, whether awake or still asleep, it was hard to say. Pitch gingerly lifted him up and carried him over to the nearby chair, then settled his son on his lap. For a moment he just watched him, then with a deep breath, he summoned the cat.
It responded immediately, as he knew it would. Snarling, it threw itself against the barriers he had put up in his mind, fighting furiously for a few minutes before it grudgingly subsided. Stand still, he said to it. Look at him. I want you to know him.
The cat wanted to ignore him. What did it care for such a small scrap of elf meat? It wanted out. Snarling again, it continued testing the bars' strength, searching for a weakness that was, to its eternal frustration, no longer there. Pitch sighed, very quietly, then gave it the mental equivalent of seizing its scruff and shaking it. No, he told it firmly. This is your cub, your heir, as much as it is mine. You will not touch a hair of his head, or so help me I will destroy you.
The cat snorted, disbelieving. If he destroyed the cat, he would destroy himself, and the cat refused to believe he would ever do that. Try me, Pitch told it flatly. If it will keep him safe, I will do anything it takes- including sacrificing myself. You had best learn that, if you want to survive.
The cat was less certain now. He felt it reading his thoughts, considering, before at last it submitted to him. He allowed it to peer through his eyes at the newborn in his lap. His own nostrils flared as the cat took in the baby's scent, then it left him, sinking back into its cage within Pitch's mind.
Pitch slowly let out the breath he'd been holding. The worst battle was over; Loren was as safe as Pitch could make him. He got up, a little stiffly, and settled the infant back in his cradle, then climbed back into his own bed, next to Lark. She snuggled up to him automatically, and he let himself drift back to sleep.
Yea, my writer's block? The one that's persisted over the last several months? It hasn't been fun. But at least now I know that if it happens again, all I need to do to fix it is have my characters have a baby... >.>
Also? This was fun, and now I want to do Loren arts. :D
_______________________
Shad had left almost as soon as they determined that mother and baby were both healthy. Pitch couldn't blame him; it was probably closer to morning rather than night by now. He walked Alanon and a yawning Shaurria to the door, then went back upstairs to the bedroom. Lark was still in bed, of course, with Loren cradled carefully in her lap. She stared at the baby in fascination, gently running one finger over his tiny fist as he lay sleeping.
She looked up when Pitch sat down beside her, giving him a smile that almost hid how tired she was. "He looks like you," she said softly. Pitch leaned over to peer at his son. "Yea, I guess he does," he agreed. "He's got more of your coloring, though."
They both lay there together watching the sleeping baby, Lark shifting over to lean on his shoulder. He sensed when she started to doze off and nudged her gently, asking her, "Do you want me to take him so you can sleep?"
Lark stirred herself awake at his words. "No, I'm fine," she answered, though she still sounded tired. "He'll need to eat soon, won't he? I need to be awake for that." Pitch chuckled quietly, and she frowned. Before she could say anything, he bent to kiss her forehead, then gathered Loren up. "Sleep," he said softly. "I'll wake you, don't worry." She just sighed, then settled back against the pillows. Within moments she was fast asleep.
* * * * *
A whimper pulled Pitch from sleep. It was still dark, but the faint touch of grey outside the window hinted at dawn's approach. He slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb Lark; she stirred in her sleep but didn't wake. Silently he padded over to the cradle.
Loren lay quietly, whether awake or still asleep, it was hard to say. Pitch gingerly lifted him up and carried him over to the nearby chair, then settled his son on his lap. For a moment he just watched him, then with a deep breath, he summoned the cat.
It responded immediately, as he knew it would. Snarling, it threw itself against the barriers he had put up in his mind, fighting furiously for a few minutes before it grudgingly subsided. Stand still, he said to it. Look at him. I want you to know him.
The cat wanted to ignore him. What did it care for such a small scrap of elf meat? It wanted out. Snarling again, it continued testing the bars' strength, searching for a weakness that was, to its eternal frustration, no longer there. Pitch sighed, very quietly, then gave it the mental equivalent of seizing its scruff and shaking it. No, he told it firmly. This is your cub, your heir, as much as it is mine. You will not touch a hair of his head, or so help me I will destroy you.
The cat snorted, disbelieving. If he destroyed the cat, he would destroy himself, and the cat refused to believe he would ever do that. Try me, Pitch told it flatly. If it will keep him safe, I will do anything it takes- including sacrificing myself. You had best learn that, if you want to survive.
The cat was less certain now. He felt it reading his thoughts, considering, before at last it submitted to him. He allowed it to peer through his eyes at the newborn in his lap. His own nostrils flared as the cat took in the baby's scent, then it left him, sinking back into its cage within Pitch's mind.
Pitch slowly let out the breath he'd been holding. The worst battle was over; Loren was as safe as Pitch could make him. He got up, a little stiffly, and settled the infant back in his cradle, then climbed back into his own bed, next to Lark. She snuggled up to him automatically, and he let himself drift back to sleep.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Planning at the Pig
This is a bit old, but figured I'd do something about the recent RP.
Lorelli surprised us all with invites to a "party" from one of her old... "acquaintances," and thought of trying to fit as many Riders and allies as possible into the place, to try and stir things up, or at least get some info on other relevant stuff. There was a good deal of discussion, then the possibility of a fight came up. Considering that Lark is about 6 months pregnant by now, I think you can guess what she and Pitch thought about that. Once the main details had been hammered out, they went outside the Pig to talk things over.
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Pitchblàck eyes Wildlark up and down.
Wildlark eyes him back.
Pitchblàck flattens his ears slightly.
Lorelli eyes Annalea thoughtfully.
Annalea says: Hmm?
Wildlark gives a quiet sigh.
Lorelli says: Just trying to figure out where you'll do the most good.
Wildlark says: Excuse us a minute
Jahira watches Pitch and Lark curiously.
Wildlark says: All right, out with it
Pitchblàck looks guilty.
Pitchblàck says: If there's going to be fighting, I don't think you should go
Pitchblàck says: I know you want to, but...
Wildlark sighs again. "And you're probably right."
Wildlark grins crookedly. "Could have picked better timing, hm?"
Pitchblàck says: We didn't know all this was going to happen
Pitchblàck says: Few more months, right? Then we can let his aunts and uncle worry about him
Wildlark says: I know
Pitchblàck takes her hand and rubs it gently.
Pitchblàck says: So....?
Wildlark says: .... all right
Wildlark leans.
Wildlark says: .... just come back to me in one piece
Pitchblàck says: Always
Pitchblàck hugs.
Wildlark says: Let me go find Rheugan, so he can hear the details
Pitchblàck says: Mkay. Heading home after?
Wildlark nods into his chest.
Pitchblàck squeezes, then lets go.
___________________
Poor Lark. The Riders are being awesome and trying to help come up with things she can do, but we are mostly coming up dry right now. Hopefully she'll find something she can do soon, before she goes crazy with boredom.
On a side note, this is one reason why they are working so well as a couple, and why I love them so much. They talk, about nearly everything, even if their conversations are just inside my head (while I'm at work, dinking on alts, playing other games, etc.).
Lorelli surprised us all with invites to a "party" from one of her old... "acquaintances," and thought of trying to fit as many Riders and allies as possible into the place, to try and stir things up, or at least get some info on other relevant stuff. There was a good deal of discussion, then the possibility of a fight came up. Considering that Lark is about 6 months pregnant by now, I think you can guess what she and Pitch thought about that. Once the main details had been hammered out, they went outside the Pig to talk things over.
________
Pitchblàck eyes Wildlark up and down.
Wildlark eyes him back.
Pitchblàck flattens his ears slightly.
Lorelli eyes Annalea thoughtfully.
Annalea says: Hmm?
Wildlark gives a quiet sigh.
Lorelli says: Just trying to figure out where you'll do the most good.
Wildlark says: Excuse us a minute
Jahira watches Pitch and Lark curiously.
Wildlark says: All right, out with it
Pitchblàck looks guilty.
Pitchblàck says: If there's going to be fighting, I don't think you should go
Pitchblàck says: I know you want to, but...
Wildlark sighs again. "And you're probably right."
Wildlark grins crookedly. "Could have picked better timing, hm?"
Pitchblàck says: We didn't know all this was going to happen
Pitchblàck says: Few more months, right? Then we can let his aunts and uncle worry about him
Wildlark says: I know
Pitchblàck takes her hand and rubs it gently.
Pitchblàck says: So....?
Wildlark says: .... all right
Wildlark leans.
Wildlark says: .... just come back to me in one piece
Pitchblàck says: Always
Pitchblàck hugs.
Wildlark says: Let me go find Rheugan, so he can hear the details
Pitchblàck says: Mkay. Heading home after?
Wildlark nods into his chest.
Pitchblàck squeezes, then lets go.
___________________
Poor Lark. The Riders are being awesome and trying to help come up with things she can do, but we are mostly coming up dry right now. Hopefully she'll find something she can do soon, before she goes crazy with boredom.
On a side note, this is one reason why they are working so well as a couple, and why I love them so much. They talk, about nearly everything, even if their conversations are just inside my head (while I'm at work, dinking on alts, playing other games, etc.).
Monday, December 26, 2011
Gifts
(Yea, yea, it's a day late. I know. :P)
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"I made you somethin' for Win'erveil."
Rheugan's initial reaction- to correct Shaur's grammar yet again- was halted once her words registered. "You made something for me?" She nodded, beaming as she held out a small object, just a shade smaller than her hand.
Rheugan took it hesitantly, holding it in one hand as he examined it. It was a wooden disk, carved on both sides. On the side he was currently staring at, a remarkable likeness of the cat's head looked back at him. The carving was rough, but the detail in the cat's expression, and the fur etched into the wood, threatened to take his breath away. He looked up at her again. "So this is what you've been hiding from me. I didn't know you carved. This is excellent."
Shaurria beamed even more at his praise. "S'more on th' back. Turn it over," she urged, and he did, then froze when he saw the other side.
Carved into the other side of the disk was a wolf's head. The detail was as fine as the cat's, but while Rheugan knew it was him in his worgen form, there was none of the savageness he would have expected to see. It looked alert, yet calm.... peaceful - like he himself had never felt while under its sway.
He momentarily forgot about Shaurria as he studied it, lost in conflicting emotions, until her fingers gently brushed his cheek. He jumped and looked up at her, startled, and she gave him a shy smile as she showed him the tear she had wiped away. "D'you like it?" she asked, with a trace of uncertainty. "I.. I wasn't too sure on what t' put on it..."
He shook his head, returning to his study of the carving. "It's beautiful. I can't believe you got it looking this accurate when you've only seen the wolf once."
"Got a good mem'ry," she said. "An'da 'n Arvoss both say so, anyway." Still shy, she reached out and took his hand. "So y'like it?"
Rheugan nodded, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "It's perfect. Best present I've ever gotten."
"Liar." She grinned at him mischievously, then joined in when he started chuckling.
* * * * * *
It was ridiculously late. Lark knew she should have gone to bed ages ago, but Pitch didn't spend as much time with his siblings as he really should, and she hated pulling him away from the "party" early. By the time they got back to their little house, the moon was well up, the streets quiet.
Pitch was grinning as they climbed the stairs to the bedroom. Lark knew he had something up his sleeve, but knew better than to ask him about it before he was ready to tell. She didn't have to wait long, anyway, as he gently pushed her toward the bed before going to the dresser and rummaging in a drawer.
By the time he located whatever he was looking for she had settled herself in bed, and he wasted no more time in joining her. The grin on his face was, if anything, even bigger as he showed her the small bottle he had found. She quirked an eyebrow at him.
"Are you going to tell me what that is, or do I have to guess?" she asked him dryly. He answered by popping the top off the bottle, and she caught a whiff of something herbal as he poured a small amount into his palm. "Massage oil," he announced. "Happy Winter Veil, my love. Would you mind moving the sheet?"
She complied with a grin to match his own, then settled back comfortably as he started gently rubbing the oil onto the growing swell of her belly. "But I didn't get you anything," she said after a few minutes, a touch of drowsiness in her voice. Pitch glanced at her, then stopped rubbing for a moment, his hand resting over their unborn baby. "This is enough," he told her, then leaned over for a kiss before resuming the massage. Silence, broken only by Tuah's sleepy rumble from across the room, descended again for several minutes.
Lark had almost fallen asleep when he stopped suddenly with a grunt of surprise. She opened one eye to look at him, then grinned as he gaped at her. "Was that...?"
"Yes Pitch," she told him. "Guess he got tired of hiding from you... or maybe he's ticklish." She gave a grunt of her own as the baby kicked again, but Pitch's wondering expression more than made up for any discomfort. The massage forgotten, he turned cat and curled up beside her with his head resting on her belly. She finally fell asleep with her fingers buried in his fur, listening to his steady purr.
_______________
I kinda want to do a picture of Pitch and Lark now, but that would more than likely be NSFW, soooo... >.>
..... Maybe I'll do it anyway, we'll see. *Ahem* Happy Holidays, and Happy Hunting!
______________
"I made you somethin' for Win'erveil."
Rheugan's initial reaction- to correct Shaur's grammar yet again- was halted once her words registered. "You made something for me?" She nodded, beaming as she held out a small object, just a shade smaller than her hand.
Rheugan took it hesitantly, holding it in one hand as he examined it. It was a wooden disk, carved on both sides. On the side he was currently staring at, a remarkable likeness of the cat's head looked back at him. The carving was rough, but the detail in the cat's expression, and the fur etched into the wood, threatened to take his breath away. He looked up at her again. "So this is what you've been hiding from me. I didn't know you carved. This is excellent."
Shaurria beamed even more at his praise. "S'more on th' back. Turn it over," she urged, and he did, then froze when he saw the other side.
Carved into the other side of the disk was a wolf's head. The detail was as fine as the cat's, but while Rheugan knew it was him in his worgen form, there was none of the savageness he would have expected to see. It looked alert, yet calm.... peaceful - like he himself had never felt while under its sway.
He momentarily forgot about Shaurria as he studied it, lost in conflicting emotions, until her fingers gently brushed his cheek. He jumped and looked up at her, startled, and she gave him a shy smile as she showed him the tear she had wiped away. "D'you like it?" she asked, with a trace of uncertainty. "I.. I wasn't too sure on what t' put on it..."
He shook his head, returning to his study of the carving. "It's beautiful. I can't believe you got it looking this accurate when you've only seen the wolf once."
"Got a good mem'ry," she said. "An'da 'n Arvoss both say so, anyway." Still shy, she reached out and took his hand. "So y'like it?"
Rheugan nodded, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "It's perfect. Best present I've ever gotten."
"Liar." She grinned at him mischievously, then joined in when he started chuckling.
* * * * * *
It was ridiculously late. Lark knew she should have gone to bed ages ago, but Pitch didn't spend as much time with his siblings as he really should, and she hated pulling him away from the "party" early. By the time they got back to their little house, the moon was well up, the streets quiet.
Pitch was grinning as they climbed the stairs to the bedroom. Lark knew he had something up his sleeve, but knew better than to ask him about it before he was ready to tell. She didn't have to wait long, anyway, as he gently pushed her toward the bed before going to the dresser and rummaging in a drawer.
By the time he located whatever he was looking for she had settled herself in bed, and he wasted no more time in joining her. The grin on his face was, if anything, even bigger as he showed her the small bottle he had found. She quirked an eyebrow at him.
"Are you going to tell me what that is, or do I have to guess?" she asked him dryly. He answered by popping the top off the bottle, and she caught a whiff of something herbal as he poured a small amount into his palm. "Massage oil," he announced. "Happy Winter Veil, my love. Would you mind moving the sheet?"
She complied with a grin to match his own, then settled back comfortably as he started gently rubbing the oil onto the growing swell of her belly. "But I didn't get you anything," she said after a few minutes, a touch of drowsiness in her voice. Pitch glanced at her, then stopped rubbing for a moment, his hand resting over their unborn baby. "This is enough," he told her, then leaned over for a kiss before resuming the massage. Silence, broken only by Tuah's sleepy rumble from across the room, descended again for several minutes.
Lark had almost fallen asleep when he stopped suddenly with a grunt of surprise. She opened one eye to look at him, then grinned as he gaped at her. "Was that...?"
"Yes Pitch," she told him. "Guess he got tired of hiding from you... or maybe he's ticklish." She gave a grunt of her own as the baby kicked again, but Pitch's wondering expression more than made up for any discomfort. The massage forgotten, he turned cat and curled up beside her with his head resting on her belly. She finally fell asleep with her fingers buried in his fur, listening to his steady purr.
_______________
I kinda want to do a picture of Pitch and Lark now, but that would more than likely be NSFW, soooo... >.>
..... Maybe I'll do it anyway, we'll see. *Ahem* Happy Holidays, and Happy Hunting!
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Sick
I got the inspiration for this while I still had my cold, and figured that if I was sick, there was no reason why my characters shouldn't be, too. Yes, I'm a meanie. This story idea just puttered around in my head for a while, then I started writing it after my cold was gone. For lack of anything else to write, I finally got around to finishing it.
This would be from several weeks ago- Lark's cold is long gone by now, same as my own. Also, have I mentioned how much I love my characters? >.>
(I'm not forgetting Rheugan's post, just need to finish writing it. >.>)
______________
There were, Pitch reflected, some advantages to being bigger than your mate- one of those being she couldn't push you out of bed. Not that she wasn't trying.
"I dode wadda gib you by code!" Lark's feet pushed futilely against his hip again. Pitch suppressed a sigh.
"You won't give me your cold," he told her again, patiently. "I'm too stubborn to get sick anyway." He didn't mention that his throat had been scratchy that morning, so he'd probably already caught it. Which was why he'd helped himself to his brother's "cold tea" when Alanon had brought some by earlier; if he was catching it, it wouldn't last long, not with that tea.
Lark herself had had two cups of the tea, plus as much soup as he could get her to eat- and thank Elune her morning sickness seemed to be mostly gone. An added benefit was that with her belly full, she was too sleepy to put up much of a fight.
Almost as soon as he had that thought, she suddenly gave up the fight, rolling to her side and pulling the blankets up. "Fide den," she muttered, slurring slightly. "Dode blabe be if you get zick." Pitch smiled to himself. "I won't," he told her, though he was doubtful she even heard him.
He gave her a bit to fall asleep, then slid under the blankets next to her, snuggling up close with a contented sigh. Within minutes, he too had fallen fast asleep.
This would be from several weeks ago- Lark's cold is long gone by now, same as my own. Also, have I mentioned how much I love my characters? >.>
(I'm not forgetting Rheugan's post, just need to finish writing it. >.>)
______________
There were, Pitch reflected, some advantages to being bigger than your mate- one of those being she couldn't push you out of bed. Not that she wasn't trying.
"I dode wadda gib you by code!" Lark's feet pushed futilely against his hip again. Pitch suppressed a sigh.
"You won't give me your cold," he told her again, patiently. "I'm too stubborn to get sick anyway." He didn't mention that his throat had been scratchy that morning, so he'd probably already caught it. Which was why he'd helped himself to his brother's "cold tea" when Alanon had brought some by earlier; if he was catching it, it wouldn't last long, not with that tea.
Lark herself had had two cups of the tea, plus as much soup as he could get her to eat- and thank Elune her morning sickness seemed to be mostly gone. An added benefit was that with her belly full, she was too sleepy to put up much of a fight.
Almost as soon as he had that thought, she suddenly gave up the fight, rolling to her side and pulling the blankets up. "Fide den," she muttered, slurring slightly. "Dode blabe be if you get zick." Pitch smiled to himself. "I won't," he told her, though he was doubtful she even heard him.
He gave her a bit to fall asleep, then slid under the blankets next to her, snuggling up close with a contented sigh. Within minutes, he too had fallen fast asleep.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Tuah
It kinda surprises me at times how much I love this silly tiger. Lark has formed a really strong bond with him as well, and I'm so glad now I made him an IC pet. Tuah is usually a quiet boy, so it feels sometimes like he doesn't have much personality, but that's far from the truth. This little snippet hopefully shows off some of his... more "entertaining" side. >.>
_________________________
Lark hated to admit it, but she had lost track of how many pets she had had over the centuries. From the scruffy lioness that had first claimed a piece of her life, to her current companions... it had likely been hundreds. That lioness had been the first Tuah, and the name had passed down from one pet to the next, occasionally skipping an animal as another name asserted itself, but always returning before too long. Lark was the first to admit she had no head for names; this way was the easiest, so she stuck with it.
She had found that whichever pet carried the name was usually the one she formed the strongest bond with, especially the few times she had more than one pet at a time. Even when her current Tuah had been found after her other pets. She worried over it sometimes, but Komah assured her that he and Quiloe didn't care. I am here to repay the kindness you showed my mate, the spirit-cat told her after she'd asked him about it yet again. That doesn't mean you need to coddle me every minute. I am content, and so is the wolf. Wolves are pack animals, after all; she doesn't mind sharing.
Right now, however, Lark was feeling less than charitable toward the most recent object of her affections. She surveyed the mess that had been the living room of their new house with dismay. Pet bedding had been thrown or dragged everywhere, and the leather cushions she and Pitch had bought until they could get real chairs were scattered throughout the chaos. Two of them had been chewed to ruins, and the culprit himself was sprawled on his belly in the midst of the stuffing, a couple down feathers festooning his ruff. Komah and Quiloe had wisely left the scene, after Komah had all too happily informed her who was to blame; they were probably waiting upstairs for the storm to blow over.
"You want to tell me why you did this?" Tuah blinked at her sleepily, but otherwise didn't even twitch. "You get plenty of attention, there was no reason for this. You ought to know better. And when Pitch sees this mess, he's going to want to tan your stripey hide." Lark sighed, running a hand through her hair in exasperation. "Nether, who am I kidding? You're too big to whip, and you know it, too." Tuah just rolled to his side with a rumble, his massive front paws gently kneading at nothing, eyes almost closed. The tiny knot of feelings in her head, which comprised her bond with the tiger, was full of nothing but lazy contentment. Lark felt a grin tugging at her mouth, but firmly held it in. "You can forget the next pub night, you know. You may be too big to switch, I'll admit that, but I can darn well set Komah to watch you. See if you can get into any trouble then." No response for that. Lark shook her head, then stared at her pet incredulously as a sudden thought struck.
"You...big brat! You know you can get away with it, don't you?" Tuah rolled onto his back with a loud groan. With his head upside-down and his ears squashed to the floor, he blinked at her again. It was hard to tell with that strange glow, but behind it Lark swore she saw a twinkle in his eye.
________________________________
(I had to add that picture, just for a visual reference. XD)
_________________________
Lark hated to admit it, but she had lost track of how many pets she had had over the centuries. From the scruffy lioness that had first claimed a piece of her life, to her current companions... it had likely been hundreds. That lioness had been the first Tuah, and the name had passed down from one pet to the next, occasionally skipping an animal as another name asserted itself, but always returning before too long. Lark was the first to admit she had no head for names; this way was the easiest, so she stuck with it.
She had found that whichever pet carried the name was usually the one she formed the strongest bond with, especially the few times she had more than one pet at a time. Even when her current Tuah had been found after her other pets. She worried over it sometimes, but Komah assured her that he and Quiloe didn't care. I am here to repay the kindness you showed my mate, the spirit-cat told her after she'd asked him about it yet again. That doesn't mean you need to coddle me every minute. I am content, and so is the wolf. Wolves are pack animals, after all; she doesn't mind sharing.
Right now, however, Lark was feeling less than charitable toward the most recent object of her affections. She surveyed the mess that had been the living room of their new house with dismay. Pet bedding had been thrown or dragged everywhere, and the leather cushions she and Pitch had bought until they could get real chairs were scattered throughout the chaos. Two of them had been chewed to ruins, and the culprit himself was sprawled on his belly in the midst of the stuffing, a couple down feathers festooning his ruff. Komah and Quiloe had wisely left the scene, after Komah had all too happily informed her who was to blame; they were probably waiting upstairs for the storm to blow over.
"You want to tell me why you did this?" Tuah blinked at her sleepily, but otherwise didn't even twitch. "You get plenty of attention, there was no reason for this. You ought to know better. And when Pitch sees this mess, he's going to want to tan your stripey hide." Lark sighed, running a hand through her hair in exasperation. "Nether, who am I kidding? You're too big to whip, and you know it, too." Tuah just rolled to his side with a rumble, his massive front paws gently kneading at nothing, eyes almost closed. The tiny knot of feelings in her head, which comprised her bond with the tiger, was full of nothing but lazy contentment. Lark felt a grin tugging at her mouth, but firmly held it in. "You can forget the next pub night, you know. You may be too big to switch, I'll admit that, but I can darn well set Komah to watch you. See if you can get into any trouble then." No response for that. Lark shook her head, then stared at her pet incredulously as a sudden thought struck.
"You...big brat! You know you can get away with it, don't you?" Tuah rolled onto his back with a loud groan. With his head upside-down and his ears squashed to the floor, he blinked at her again. It was hard to tell with that strange glow, but behind it Lark swore she saw a twinkle in his eye.
________________________________(I had to add that picture, just for a visual reference. XD)
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Options, part 2
And finished!
_________________
The list lay in the middle of the kitchen table. On either side sat the two Kal'dorei, Lark sipping her tea while Pitch studied the paper again, chin on his fists on the table. He glanced up just in time to catch Lark's grimace, and grinned. "My sisters have told me that earthroot tastes terrible," he said helpfully. Lark swatted at him.
"Just make up your mind which item you want to try for first," she told him. "Besides, I'm not sure I want to know why your sisters were telling you about earthroot anyway."
Pitch smirked, but went back to the list. He tapped the name on top with a finger. "This totem thingy might be easy to find. Maybe." He looked up again. "I still say we should at least try Ulduar. It would save time."
Lark shrugged. "Do we really want to drag who-knows-how-many others into it? Besides, what if no one's interested?"
Pitch gave an exasperated sigh. "They are Riders," he said slowly and carefully. "So are you. If nobody's interested I'll eat my tail." He cocked his head at her. "It won't hurt anything to ask, and if no one comes..." He tapped the paper meaningfully.
Lark watched him with a rueful half-grin. "Are you trying to say that I'm too used to working on my own?" she joked. Pitch didn't bother to answer the mostly-rhetorical question, absorbed in studying the list again. Lark sighed. "I am, I think. All right, what do you say we make a notice or something, and see who shows interest?" Pitch's reply was a broad grin.
The next day a small sign was posted on the Pig's bulletin board. In an untidy scrawl it read:
("Good gods, Pitch, that's your handwriting? They won't even be able to read it."
"Hush you.")
Riders-
Pitch and Lark need assistance in getting into Ulduar. Further details will be provided at the Pig on the next pub night.
("Hopefully that will keep people from trying to track us down every hour of the day."
"Should I add anything else?"
"No, that's probably good.")
Signed, Pitch and Lark
("That was probably pretty obvious from the first line, Pitch."
"Eh, I like to be thorough.")
_________________
The list lay in the middle of the kitchen table. On either side sat the two Kal'dorei, Lark sipping her tea while Pitch studied the paper again, chin on his fists on the table. He glanced up just in time to catch Lark's grimace, and grinned. "My sisters have told me that earthroot tastes terrible," he said helpfully. Lark swatted at him.
"Just make up your mind which item you want to try for first," she told him. "Besides, I'm not sure I want to know why your sisters were telling you about earthroot anyway."
Pitch smirked, but went back to the list. He tapped the name on top with a finger. "This totem thingy might be easy to find. Maybe." He looked up again. "I still say we should at least try Ulduar. It would save time."
Lark shrugged. "Do we really want to drag who-knows-how-many others into it? Besides, what if no one's interested?"
Pitch gave an exasperated sigh. "They are Riders," he said slowly and carefully. "So are you. If nobody's interested I'll eat my tail." He cocked his head at her. "It won't hurt anything to ask, and if no one comes..." He tapped the paper meaningfully.
Lark watched him with a rueful half-grin. "Are you trying to say that I'm too used to working on my own?" she joked. Pitch didn't bother to answer the mostly-rhetorical question, absorbed in studying the list again. Lark sighed. "I am, I think. All right, what do you say we make a notice or something, and see who shows interest?" Pitch's reply was a broad grin.
The next day a small sign was posted on the Pig's bulletin board. In an untidy scrawl it read:
("Good gods, Pitch, that's your handwriting? They won't even be able to read it."
"Hush you.")
Riders-
Pitch and Lark need assistance in getting into Ulduar. Further details will be provided at the Pig on the next pub night.
("Hopefully that will keep people from trying to track us down every hour of the day."
"Should I add anything else?"
"No, that's probably good.")
Signed, Pitch and Lark
("That was probably pretty obvious from the first line, Pitch."
"Eh, I like to be thorough.")
Pitch and Lark: Options
I mentioned before that Lark was involved in some RP to fix her infertility. Shad's player has been helping out with that, and she's been beyond awesome. Lark had her initial tests, and last night Shad let them know that he had some news for them.
Yay, chatlogs?
I'm actually writing the next part for this, which should hopefully go up later today (because if it doesn't it'll be late >.>).
Note: Yes, they are talking about girly things. There's nothing explicit going on, but if you're easily embarrassed... well, you've been warned.
_____________
[ExileIC] Shad: Pitch? Lark? Are you about?
[ExileIC] Wildlark: Yes
[ExileIC] Shad: Would you be interested in meeting?
[ExileIC] Wildlark: Yes, where did you want to meet?
[ExileIC] Shad: Either the Pig or out by Olivia's Pond. The Pond is quieter.
[ExileIC] Wildlark: Pond sounds good, we'll be right there
Pitchblàck says: Found you!
Shad smiles. "Good job."
Shad says: How are you both doing?
Pitchblàck says: Our house has a porch!
Wildlark snerks at Pitch.
Shad grins at Pitchblàck wickedly.
Wildlark says: We're both fine
Shad says: Some of you seem to be in particularly good moods.
Pitchblàck says: This is fairly typical for me
Shad grins.
Wildlark says: It is
Shad says: Well, hopefully this will only make things better.
Pitchblàck 's ear twitches as Wynd gnaws on his tail.
Wildlark says: You found something?
Shad says: More precisely, I found absolutely nothing.
Wildlark pulls a toy from her pocket and tosses it.
Shad says: Which is, in its way, something.
Wildlark raises an eyebrow. "Something good?"
Shad says: In this case, yes. The female reproductive cycle depends on a certain cycle of chemicals the body produces. At present, your body is not currently producing one of them, so your cycle has simply...gone dormant.
Wildlark blinks.
Shad says: It is not altogether uncommon amongst kal'dorei.
Wildlark says: ... makes sense, I guess. Can you fix it?
Shad nods.
Shad says: The question is how you wish to go about it.
Pitchblàck looks curious. "Is it something you can just... magic up?"
Shad shakes his head. "Not I. There are...three options. One is, I give you herbs to take. You can take them in tea or simply eat them. In six to nine months, you should begin to have cycles again."
Wildlark nods.
Shad says: Another route is, you obtain a few items of potent healing power from certain locations in Outland, and I can treat it magically over the course of four to six weeks.
Wildlark blinks, looking extremely curious. "What items?"
Pitchblàck pricks his ears.
Shad says: I have a list here. I would need...either the Totem of Spontaneous Growth or Quagmirran's Eye. Both of those would be found in the Slave Pens.
Shad says: In Underbog, you could find either the Alembic of Infernal Power --do not be disturbed by the name--or the Stormshield of Renewal.
Wildlark nods again.
Shad says: And then...in the Botanica. Either Prismatic Mittens of Mending or the Warp Splinter's Thorn.
Shad says: But, if you wanted instantaneous and absolutely certain results, there is still one more option.
Wildlark cocks her head.
Shad says: You would need to travel into Ulduar and touch an Eonar's Gift.
Wildlark blinks. "And that's it? That's all it would take?"
Shad nods. "They are extremely powerful healing plants. The problem would be getting to them and not, ah...being smashed by Freya, if she is unwell."
Wildlark says: True
Pitchblàck does not look happy about the smashing bit.
Pitchblàck says: If you do that, I'm coming with you
Shad says: But yes. You could start trying immediately then, though no guarantees you would become pregnant immediately.
Shad grins. "And I would recommend going home first, naturally."
Wildlark says: Babe, I wouldn't make you stay behind
Shad says: You would probably need several helpers. Something we could likely cast about for.
Pitchblàck looks mollified.
Wildlark nods. The wheels in her head are obviously spinning.
Shad says: I would leave the choice to you. If you like, I can give you a two week's supply of the herbs to use while you decide. No reason not to get started on them.
Wildlark nods again.
Shad reaches into his bag for a few small pouches and offers them over. "Crush all three herbs together."
Wildlark takes them with a brief smile. "Thanks."
Shad smiles.
Shad says: Do you have any questions?
Wildlark says: This will fix it, right? Any of those three?
Shad nods. "Yes."
Wildlark says: I mean, permanently?
Shad says: Well, it is possible your body might sink into dormancy again if you had a long period of sexual inactivity.
Wildlark gives a crooked grin. "Not too much worry there."
Shad smiles. "I did not think so."
Pitchblàck clears his throat, turning a shade or two darker under his fur.
Wildlark grins again, reaching over to ruffle Pitch's ears.
Shad chuckles softly.
Wildlark says: We'll talk this over, and I'll get back to you once we've decided what to do
Shad nods.
Pitchblàck nods.
Shad says: Very well.
Shad says: And do let me know if you have any questions in the meanwhile.
Shad brushes his pants off.
Wildlark says: Of course
Shad says: Oh...and where -is- this house with a porch?
Wildlark grins. "Little place right next to the enchanter's shop."
Shad says: New lodgings?
Wildlark nods.
Shad says: Congratulations.
Shad grins. "Solid lodgings are the first step toward becoming a parent, you know."
Wildlark says: I had been staying in the University dorms. Arrens wouldn't have kicked me out, but I prefer not to impose
Shad nods.
Wildlark grins back. "It even has a spare bedroom."
Shad says: -Perfect-.
Shad says: All right. Do have a good evening, both of you.
Pitchblàck says: You too!
Shad bows down graciously.
Wildlark says: Goodnight Shad, and thanks
Yay, chatlogs?
I'm actually writing the next part for this, which should hopefully go up later today (because if it doesn't it'll be late >.>).
Note: Yes, they are talking about girly things. There's nothing explicit going on, but if you're easily embarrassed... well, you've been warned.
_____________
[ExileIC] Shad: Pitch? Lark? Are you about?
[ExileIC] Wildlark: Yes
[ExileIC] Shad: Would you be interested in meeting?
[ExileIC] Wildlark: Yes, where did you want to meet?
[ExileIC] Shad: Either the Pig or out by Olivia's Pond. The Pond is quieter.
[ExileIC] Wildlark: Pond sounds good, we'll be right there
Pitchblàck says: Found you!
Shad smiles. "Good job."
Shad says: How are you both doing?
Pitchblàck says: Our house has a porch!
Wildlark snerks at Pitch.
Shad grins at Pitchblàck wickedly.
Wildlark says: We're both fine
Shad says: Some of you seem to be in particularly good moods.
Pitchblàck says: This is fairly typical for me
Shad grins.
Wildlark says: It is
Shad says: Well, hopefully this will only make things better.
Pitchblàck 's ear twitches as Wynd gnaws on his tail.
Wildlark says: You found something?
Shad says: More precisely, I found absolutely nothing.
Wildlark pulls a toy from her pocket and tosses it.
Shad says: Which is, in its way, something.
Wildlark raises an eyebrow. "Something good?"
Shad says: In this case, yes. The female reproductive cycle depends on a certain cycle of chemicals the body produces. At present, your body is not currently producing one of them, so your cycle has simply...gone dormant.
Wildlark blinks.
Shad says: It is not altogether uncommon amongst kal'dorei.
Wildlark says: ... makes sense, I guess. Can you fix it?
Shad nods.
Shad says: The question is how you wish to go about it.
Pitchblàck looks curious. "Is it something you can just... magic up?"
Shad shakes his head. "Not I. There are...three options. One is, I give you herbs to take. You can take them in tea or simply eat them. In six to nine months, you should begin to have cycles again."
Wildlark nods.
Shad says: Another route is, you obtain a few items of potent healing power from certain locations in Outland, and I can treat it magically over the course of four to six weeks.
Wildlark blinks, looking extremely curious. "What items?"
Pitchblàck pricks his ears.
Shad says: I have a list here. I would need...either the Totem of Spontaneous Growth or Quagmirran's Eye. Both of those would be found in the Slave Pens.
Shad says: In Underbog, you could find either the Alembic of Infernal Power --do not be disturbed by the name--or the Stormshield of Renewal.
Wildlark nods again.
Shad says: And then...in the Botanica. Either Prismatic Mittens of Mending or the Warp Splinter's Thorn.
Shad says: But, if you wanted instantaneous and absolutely certain results, there is still one more option.
Wildlark cocks her head.
Shad says: You would need to travel into Ulduar and touch an Eonar's Gift.
Wildlark blinks. "And that's it? That's all it would take?"
Shad nods. "They are extremely powerful healing plants. The problem would be getting to them and not, ah...being smashed by Freya, if she is unwell."
Wildlark says: True
Pitchblàck does not look happy about the smashing bit.
Pitchblàck says: If you do that, I'm coming with you
Shad says: But yes. You could start trying immediately then, though no guarantees you would become pregnant immediately.
Shad grins. "And I would recommend going home first, naturally."
Wildlark says: Babe, I wouldn't make you stay behind
Shad says: You would probably need several helpers. Something we could likely cast about for.
Pitchblàck looks mollified.
Wildlark nods. The wheels in her head are obviously spinning.
Shad says: I would leave the choice to you. If you like, I can give you a two week's supply of the herbs to use while you decide. No reason not to get started on them.
Wildlark nods again.
Shad reaches into his bag for a few small pouches and offers them over. "Crush all three herbs together."
Wildlark takes them with a brief smile. "Thanks."
Shad smiles.
Shad says: Do you have any questions?
Wildlark says: This will fix it, right? Any of those three?
Shad nods. "Yes."
Wildlark says: I mean, permanently?
Shad says: Well, it is possible your body might sink into dormancy again if you had a long period of sexual inactivity.
Wildlark gives a crooked grin. "Not too much worry there."
Shad smiles. "I did not think so."
Pitchblàck clears his throat, turning a shade or two darker under his fur.
Wildlark grins again, reaching over to ruffle Pitch's ears.
Shad chuckles softly.
Wildlark says: We'll talk this over, and I'll get back to you once we've decided what to do
Shad nods.
Pitchblàck nods.
Shad says: Very well.
Shad says: And do let me know if you have any questions in the meanwhile.
Shad brushes his pants off.
Wildlark says: Of course
Shad says: Oh...and where -is- this house with a porch?
Wildlark grins. "Little place right next to the enchanter's shop."
Shad says: New lodgings?
Wildlark nods.
Shad says: Congratulations.
Shad grins. "Solid lodgings are the first step toward becoming a parent, you know."
Wildlark says: I had been staying in the University dorms. Arrens wouldn't have kicked me out, but I prefer not to impose
Shad nods.
Wildlark grins back. "It even has a spare bedroom."
Shad says: -Perfect-.
Shad says: All right. Do have a good evening, both of you.
Pitchblàck says: You too!
Shad bows down graciously.
Wildlark says: Goodnight Shad, and thanks
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Playtime
And now for something happier!
________________
Lark held up her creation. "What do you think?"
Pitch eyed it doubtfully. "A feathered leather ball? What does it do?"
Lark just grinned, then looked down at Wynd. The little wintersaber cub was sitting at her feet, watching expectantly. Lark hefted the ball, then threw it, and Wynd leaped after it, pouncing on the toy with a growl before bringing it back. There was a brief tug-of-war before he relinquished the ball to Lark, but he let it go without too much difficulty.
Lark grinned at Pitch triumphantly as Wynd sat back down at her feet, ready for another throw. Pitch grunted in amusement. "Seems to have met his approval. Clever." Lark passed him the ball, and he looked it over before tossing it for the cub. "He sure seems to-"
Pitch broke off whatever he was saying as a big shape suddenly charged in from the side. The two Kal'dorei gaped as Tuah went rushing past them. Wynd squealed and dashed out of the way as the big tiger pounced on the toy. He settled on the ground with the ball between his forepaws, sniffing it over curiously.
Pitch glanced at Lark with one eyebrow raised. "Does he do that often?"
Lark just laughed. "You're supposed to bring that back, silly!" she called to the tiger. Tuah twitched one ear in her direction and chuffed, then stood up and trotted toward them, the ball almost hidden in his jaws.
Wynd, watching the huge cat warily, suddenly realized that Tuah had his toy. With a squeaky growl he jumped at the tiger, smacking into the side of his head. Tuah stopped in his tracks, rolling onto his side with a groan. Wynd immediately began chewing on the closest ear, until he noticed that Tuah had dropped the ball. He gave up the ear to pounce onto the ball, then proceeded to prance around the bigger cat, holding his prize high. Tuah just lay where he fell, watching him.
Pitch looked over at Lark, keeping a straight face with an obvious effort. "They're your cats, you know," he told her. Lark dissolved into helpless giggles. Pitch just watched her, until Wynd came over and dropped the ball on her face. Then his composure cracked, and he fell over on top of her, laughing his head off.
Wynd watched his people curiously, cocking his head to one side. Then he trotted back to Tuah and curled up at the tiger's side, chewing contentedly at his toy.
______________
And side note- my raid group took down 7 bosses tonight! Magmaw, Omnitron, and Maloriak were all one-shots, while Atramedes took 2. Chimaeron gave us some trouble, but we got him in the end. And then we proceeded to Bastion of Twilight and one-shot both Halfus and the Dargon Twins. We had a few good attempts at the Ascendant Council, but they are continuing to defy us. We're gonna extend our raid lockout on them, so next week after we beat down BWD (again, muahaha), we can go straight back to the Council.
And now I have to sleep before I pass out on my keyboard. Happy Hunting!
________________
Lark held up her creation. "What do you think?"
Pitch eyed it doubtfully. "A feathered leather ball? What does it do?"
Lark just grinned, then looked down at Wynd. The little wintersaber cub was sitting at her feet, watching expectantly. Lark hefted the ball, then threw it, and Wynd leaped after it, pouncing on the toy with a growl before bringing it back. There was a brief tug-of-war before he relinquished the ball to Lark, but he let it go without too much difficulty.
Lark grinned at Pitch triumphantly as Wynd sat back down at her feet, ready for another throw. Pitch grunted in amusement. "Seems to have met his approval. Clever." Lark passed him the ball, and he looked it over before tossing it for the cub. "He sure seems to-"
Pitch broke off whatever he was saying as a big shape suddenly charged in from the side. The two Kal'dorei gaped as Tuah went rushing past them. Wynd squealed and dashed out of the way as the big tiger pounced on the toy. He settled on the ground with the ball between his forepaws, sniffing it over curiously.
Pitch glanced at Lark with one eyebrow raised. "Does he do that often?"
Lark just laughed. "You're supposed to bring that back, silly!" she called to the tiger. Tuah twitched one ear in her direction and chuffed, then stood up and trotted toward them, the ball almost hidden in his jaws.
Wynd, watching the huge cat warily, suddenly realized that Tuah had his toy. With a squeaky growl he jumped at the tiger, smacking into the side of his head. Tuah stopped in his tracks, rolling onto his side with a groan. Wynd immediately began chewing on the closest ear, until he noticed that Tuah had dropped the ball. He gave up the ear to pounce onto the ball, then proceeded to prance around the bigger cat, holding his prize high. Tuah just lay where he fell, watching him.
Pitch looked over at Lark, keeping a straight face with an obvious effort. "They're your cats, you know," he told her. Lark dissolved into helpless giggles. Pitch just watched her, until Wynd came over and dropped the ball on her face. Then his composure cracked, and he fell over on top of her, laughing his head off.
Wynd watched his people curiously, cocking his head to one side. Then he trotted back to Tuah and curled up at the tiger's side, chewing contentedly at his toy.
______________
And side note- my raid group took down 7 bosses tonight! Magmaw, Omnitron, and Maloriak were all one-shots, while Atramedes took 2. Chimaeron gave us some trouble, but we got him in the end. And then we proceeded to Bastion of Twilight and one-shot both Halfus and the Dargon Twins. We had a few good attempts at the Ascendant Council, but they are continuing to defy us. We're gonna extend our raid lockout on them, so next week after we beat down BWD (again, muahaha), we can go straight back to the Council.
And now I have to sleep before I pass out on my keyboard. Happy Hunting!
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Pitch: Lost
I really don't know where this came from.Well, okay, maybe I do, but it's a long story. *Deep breath*
I never really intended for Lark and Pitch to be anything other than just friends. Just goes to show how little control I really have over my characters, right? The main thing is actually Pitch. He simply never does anything by halves- he'd rather go all the way. This wasn't a problem when he was chasing after Skyborne, but when Sky kind of took herself out of the picture, there was only Pitch and Lark left.
Really, I should have known it was coming.
Lark loves Pitch, really, but she's already lost so many people she's loved that it's become old stuff for her. If Pitch dies, she'll mourn for him (and hard), but then she will simply pick up what's left and get on with her life. But then I started thinking.... what if the opposite happens?
Lark is Pitch's first love. Oh, he's had a mate before (long story that I have no intention of writing, sorry), but that relationship didn't have much to do with love. With Lark, though, every now and then he will surprise me with how deep his feelings really are. She is his mate, his partner, and his love. He gives her everything he's got.
More simply, he's not going by halves.
So if anything ever happened to Lark, I really wasn't sure what he'd do. Go crazy? Go feral? Or maybe just deal with it and move on, like Lark herself would do. I apparently was in a morbid mood today (let's kill off one of my main characters and see what the other one does, muahaha- kidding), and I did eventually finish the whole story.
Which was fairly awesome, because I've been in such a slump lately. >_<
So what would Pitch do if Lark died? Read on and find out.
***Disclaimer***
I AM NOT KILLING OFF ANY OF MY TOONS.
So don't worry about that. This is strictly a "what-if".
That being said, I will warn you that I had to make myself stop thinking about it a few times, because I was about ready to break down bawling in the middle of the aisle at work. You might want to grab a kleenex.
__________________
It was a beautiful day. The air was rain-washed and clean, the worst of the storm having passed. A few threatening-looking clouds still hung in the sky, but above them the sky was clear and blue. Pitch circled around Lark's gryphon, then did a few flips. He followed them up with an attempt at a backwards flip, but wound up having to catch himself after nearly falling out of the air. Lark laughed at him from her gryphon's saddle, and he laughed with her, unable to be angry or upset on such a perfect day.
The wind picked up, scudding a few of the clouds across the sky. Lark's grin dropped. "Maybe we should head back," she said doubtfully. Pitch did a bird-shrug. "Race you," he offered, then took off, his wings sweeping him along furiously. He barely heard her indignant "Hey!" as she sent her mount after him. Grinning to himself, he looked back over his shoulder.
The lightning came out of nowhere, the accompanying thunder crashing around them. For one brief, horrible instant Lark and her mount were lit up like a Winter Veil tree. Then, as Pitch watched, frozen with shock, they plummeted out of the sky. One of Lark's hands lifted as she fell, as if she were reaching for him. Her expression had no fear or pain, only a terrible surprise. Pitch abruptly found both his voice and his will to move. "No! LARK!!" he screamed, then folded his wings and dove after them.
It took him a couple minutes to find where they landed. Finally he spotted the gold-and-white mound of blowing feathers and fur and came winging over to the fallen gryphon. Lark lay near her mount. Pitch unshifted a few feet short of the ground and fell, scrambling to her side once he hit the ground. She lay motionless, the surprised expression still frozen on her face. "Lark," he whispered in disbelief, gently touching her shoulder. Then, as the full realization of what had happened dawned on him, he grabbed her and shook her, hard. "Lark, no!" There was no response. Feeling like the world had suddenly decided to crush him like a bug, Pitch gently cradled her head in both hands, then bent over her body and began sobbing.
Hours later, dry as the desert and worn as an old rag, he changed to cat and curled himself around her. As night fell and the rain started again, gentler this time, his mind mercifully fled down into darkness.
* * * * * *
She came to him in the darkness, smiling, but with a touch of sadness. He couldn't think of why she should be sad. Before he could say a word, she was kneeling at his side. "I'm so sorry, Pitch," she said softly. "I was so sure you would be the first one taken. I never wanted to leave you alone."
He reached up to touch her face. "Alone?" he asked, slightly confused. Some part of his mind was trying to tell him that this was all wrong, that she wasn't really here, but he refused to listen. "But-"
"Pitch," she interrupted gently. "I want you to promise me something, babe." She waited for his nod before continuing. "Promise me you'll go on. Don't let yourself pine away just because of me."
He blinked at her. "Lark, I-"
She interrupted him again, this time with a finger on his lips. "We're here, and we're alone," she said softly. "Let's enjoy this night together, hey?" She kissed him then, and he let himself forget everything else. There was only her.
* * * * * *
Waking was a cruelty beyond imagining.
Pitch sat and stared at his dead mate, the morning breeze ruffling his muddy fur. His mind and body felt numb. He couldn't make himself think beyond each particular moment. He didn't want to live without her.
Finally he stood and began walking. After a few dozen steps the walk turned into a run. He didn't look back.
* * * * * *
Alanon knelt next to Lark's body, closing her eyes as he offered a brief prayer to Elune. He scanned the ground, finally spotting the tracks of a large cat heading off into the distance. He sighed, suddenly feeling every one of his ten-thousand-something years.
The air shimmered in front of him, and suddenly Komah was standing there. Alanon blinked in surprise. The spirit-cat was several times larger now, his eyes and markings glowing fiercely. The druid suddenly understood what was happening and bowed his head to the loa-creature.
He heard a faint chuckle in his mind. None of that, please. Alanon raised his head to look the cat in the eyes. "So this is it, then," he stated, rather than asked.
Komah nodded. She was good to me, and I'll remember her always, but my mate's debt is paid and my time with her is now over, he said simply.
Alanon quirked an eyebrow. "That's it? No grief, no tears?"
The cat gave him a look of mild reproach. I am not a person. We don't do things the same as you. I will mourn her in my own way. Do not think to judge me, druid.
Alanon bowed his head again in apology. Then he looked up, a new thought crossing his mind. "And Pitch? Do you know where he's gone?"
The loa blinked at him slowly. Finally, He said he was going home. With that, Komah turned away from the druid and faded away.
Alanon sat where he was for a little longer. Then he levered himself to his feet and changed to a bird, heading back towards Stormwind. The rest needed to hear what had happened before he set off after Pitch.
* * * * * *
His sisters and Windstar took the news about how he had expected. Shaurria, of course, was the hardest hit. She dissolved into sniffles, sitting back a little away from the group. Loren was no better. The young druid simply sat in shock, eyes wide but unseeing. Windstar and Jahira sat on either side of him, trying to provide reassurance.
Kel was the first to speak. "Now what do we do?" she asked her brother.
Alanon sighed. "I have to go after him, there's no question of that. But I have to go alone." He looked at the others firmly. "We have no idea what he's feeling like right now, and I want to take no chances."
The others agreed, Kel grudgingly, and he turned to go. He hadn't gone far when he became aware of Shaur dogging his heels. He looked at her sternly and opened his mouth, but she gave him a look of mute appeal, and what he had intended to say died in his throat. He turned and went on, permitting her to follow.
* * * * * *
Ashenvale was much changed from its "glory days," as the humans liked to call it, but it was still home. Alanon kept his hope buried deep as they approached the weathered house. Pitch may have moved on by now, or he could be in no shape for them to be safe around him, but he was Alanon's brother. He had to try to do something.
There was no sign of the druid around the house, and Alanon felt his heart sinking when he finally spotted a dark shape at the edge of the clearing. Pitch was sitting still and silent, his tail curled around his feet, looking out into the trees. Shaur gave a wordless cry and launched herself at him before Alanon could stop her, but all Pitch did was turn to nuzzle her as she threw her arms around him. Alanon approached more slowly.
"Shaur," he said quietly. "I know how you feel, but I need to have a word with him, okay? In private." The little druid nodded as she wiped her face, then turned cat and trotted back to the house. Alanon sat down next to Pitch.
Pitch spoke up softly before Alanon could say a word. "I see her in my dreams. I can still feel her next to me." He turned to look at him briefly before returning his attention to the forest. "How do you deal with it?"
Alanon was glad that he still spoke clearly, and he at least sounded sane. He answered slowly. "You remember the good parts. The bad parts will come as well, but they will stop eventually. And then... the good parts won't hurt as much, and you'll know you're on the way to healing."
Pitch took a deep, shuddering breath. "Do me a favor, brother," he said softly. "Take care of Loren for me. And don't come looking for me, or let anyone else try. If I'm able, I will come find you."
Alanon didn't like the sound of what he was saying. "If you're able? Pitch..."
Pitch turned to look at him again, and Alanon felt his heart fall at the sight. Pitch's eyes were empty of everything but pain, balancing barely on this side of madness. Then Alanon saw something else, and his blood turned cold. Something else looked at him through Pitch's eyes, something feral and wild. He realized that Pitch had released the cat.
"Pitch, no," he whispered. "Don't do this."
Whatever sanity was left in Pitch's eyes was slipping away, even as he watched. "I don't really care, Alanon," he replied. "I don't want to live anymore, not without her. Maybe with time that will change, but for now this is the only way."
"Pitch, please," Alanon said desperately. "You know what they'll do if they-"
Pitch stood up abruptly, cutting off the rest of the sentence. "Goodbye, Alanon," he said. "Gods willing, I will see you again someday." He started trotting, heading into the deep woods.
Alanon watched him go. "Goodbye, little brother," he whispered, although he was no longer sure if it was his brother he was speaking to. "Elune guide your path." He felt Shaurria come up to stand beside him, and they both watched the big black cat as he disappeared into the trees.
Shaurria broke the silence. "Should we go after him?"
Alanon was silent for a long minute. Finally he shook his head. "We can't help him, little one," he told her. "He needs to do this himself." He put one arm around her and started guiding her back to the house. "Come, let's go home."
* * * * * *
The cat was free- really, truly free- for the first time in its existence. It hunted when it was hungry, slept or wandered when it was not. It guarded the territory it had staked out, driving out the rival predators it found. Sometimes, rarely, it remembered the elf it had once been. But the elf had been hurt badly, and had gone into hiding to wait for healing. He rarely bothered the cat, so it was able to do as it wished.
Everything was not perfect, of course. On occasion invaders came to the cat's realm, sometimes stopping to hunt and sometimes simply passing straight through. Not animals, though- people. The cat would watch them, angry at the intrusion. It wanted to attack them, to drive them off or kill them, but something held it back each time, so it only watched until they left.
And sometimes the cat had dreams of another elf, a female with a pretty face and laughing eyes. But the dreams were... painful, so the cat shied away from them.
Someday, maybe, the dreams wouldn't hurt so much, and then things would change. The elf might return, and then they would go back. But such things were beyond the cat's comprehension, so overall, it was fairly happy. It hunted, and slept, and wandered, throughout the Ashenvale forest.
_______________
For anyone wondering, Loren is Pitch and Lark's son. Yes, I know she's supposed to be barren, but there is actually some RP starting soon (I hope) that may change that. So since this would be in the unspecified future anyway, I figured that it would have worked. Hence Loren.
And naturally he would be a druid. His father and half his aunts/uncles are all druids, so why not?
I never really intended for Lark and Pitch to be anything other than just friends. Just goes to show how little control I really have over my characters, right? The main thing is actually Pitch. He simply never does anything by halves- he'd rather go all the way. This wasn't a problem when he was chasing after Skyborne, but when Sky kind of took herself out of the picture, there was only Pitch and Lark left.
Really, I should have known it was coming.
Lark loves Pitch, really, but she's already lost so many people she's loved that it's become old stuff for her. If Pitch dies, she'll mourn for him (and hard), but then she will simply pick up what's left and get on with her life. But then I started thinking.... what if the opposite happens?
Lark is Pitch's first love. Oh, he's had a mate before (long story that I have no intention of writing, sorry), but that relationship didn't have much to do with love. With Lark, though, every now and then he will surprise me with how deep his feelings really are. She is his mate, his partner, and his love. He gives her everything he's got.
More simply, he's not going by halves.
So if anything ever happened to Lark, I really wasn't sure what he'd do. Go crazy? Go feral? Or maybe just deal with it and move on, like Lark herself would do. I apparently was in a morbid mood today (let's kill off one of my main characters and see what the other one does, muahaha- kidding), and I did eventually finish the whole story.
Which was fairly awesome, because I've been in such a slump lately. >_<
So what would Pitch do if Lark died? Read on and find out.
***Disclaimer***
I AM NOT KILLING OFF ANY OF MY TOONS.
So don't worry about that. This is strictly a "what-if".
That being said, I will warn you that I had to make myself stop thinking about it a few times, because I was about ready to break down bawling in the middle of the aisle at work. You might want to grab a kleenex.
__________________
It was a beautiful day. The air was rain-washed and clean, the worst of the storm having passed. A few threatening-looking clouds still hung in the sky, but above them the sky was clear and blue. Pitch circled around Lark's gryphon, then did a few flips. He followed them up with an attempt at a backwards flip, but wound up having to catch himself after nearly falling out of the air. Lark laughed at him from her gryphon's saddle, and he laughed with her, unable to be angry or upset on such a perfect day.
The wind picked up, scudding a few of the clouds across the sky. Lark's grin dropped. "Maybe we should head back," she said doubtfully. Pitch did a bird-shrug. "Race you," he offered, then took off, his wings sweeping him along furiously. He barely heard her indignant "Hey!" as she sent her mount after him. Grinning to himself, he looked back over his shoulder.
The lightning came out of nowhere, the accompanying thunder crashing around them. For one brief, horrible instant Lark and her mount were lit up like a Winter Veil tree. Then, as Pitch watched, frozen with shock, they plummeted out of the sky. One of Lark's hands lifted as she fell, as if she were reaching for him. Her expression had no fear or pain, only a terrible surprise. Pitch abruptly found both his voice and his will to move. "No! LARK!!" he screamed, then folded his wings and dove after them.
It took him a couple minutes to find where they landed. Finally he spotted the gold-and-white mound of blowing feathers and fur and came winging over to the fallen gryphon. Lark lay near her mount. Pitch unshifted a few feet short of the ground and fell, scrambling to her side once he hit the ground. She lay motionless, the surprised expression still frozen on her face. "Lark," he whispered in disbelief, gently touching her shoulder. Then, as the full realization of what had happened dawned on him, he grabbed her and shook her, hard. "Lark, no!" There was no response. Feeling like the world had suddenly decided to crush him like a bug, Pitch gently cradled her head in both hands, then bent over her body and began sobbing.
Hours later, dry as the desert and worn as an old rag, he changed to cat and curled himself around her. As night fell and the rain started again, gentler this time, his mind mercifully fled down into darkness.
* * * * * *
She came to him in the darkness, smiling, but with a touch of sadness. He couldn't think of why she should be sad. Before he could say a word, she was kneeling at his side. "I'm so sorry, Pitch," she said softly. "I was so sure you would be the first one taken. I never wanted to leave you alone."
He reached up to touch her face. "Alone?" he asked, slightly confused. Some part of his mind was trying to tell him that this was all wrong, that she wasn't really here, but he refused to listen. "But-"
"Pitch," she interrupted gently. "I want you to promise me something, babe." She waited for his nod before continuing. "Promise me you'll go on. Don't let yourself pine away just because of me."
He blinked at her. "Lark, I-"
She interrupted him again, this time with a finger on his lips. "We're here, and we're alone," she said softly. "Let's enjoy this night together, hey?" She kissed him then, and he let himself forget everything else. There was only her.
* * * * * *
Waking was a cruelty beyond imagining.
Pitch sat and stared at his dead mate, the morning breeze ruffling his muddy fur. His mind and body felt numb. He couldn't make himself think beyond each particular moment. He didn't want to live without her.
Finally he stood and began walking. After a few dozen steps the walk turned into a run. He didn't look back.
* * * * * *
Alanon knelt next to Lark's body, closing her eyes as he offered a brief prayer to Elune. He scanned the ground, finally spotting the tracks of a large cat heading off into the distance. He sighed, suddenly feeling every one of his ten-thousand-something years.
The air shimmered in front of him, and suddenly Komah was standing there. Alanon blinked in surprise. The spirit-cat was several times larger now, his eyes and markings glowing fiercely. The druid suddenly understood what was happening and bowed his head to the loa-creature.
He heard a faint chuckle in his mind. None of that, please. Alanon raised his head to look the cat in the eyes. "So this is it, then," he stated, rather than asked.
Komah nodded. She was good to me, and I'll remember her always, but my mate's debt is paid and my time with her is now over, he said simply.
Alanon quirked an eyebrow. "That's it? No grief, no tears?"
The cat gave him a look of mild reproach. I am not a person. We don't do things the same as you. I will mourn her in my own way. Do not think to judge me, druid.
Alanon bowed his head again in apology. Then he looked up, a new thought crossing his mind. "And Pitch? Do you know where he's gone?"
The loa blinked at him slowly. Finally, He said he was going home. With that, Komah turned away from the druid and faded away.
Alanon sat where he was for a little longer. Then he levered himself to his feet and changed to a bird, heading back towards Stormwind. The rest needed to hear what had happened before he set off after Pitch.
* * * * * *
His sisters and Windstar took the news about how he had expected. Shaurria, of course, was the hardest hit. She dissolved into sniffles, sitting back a little away from the group. Loren was no better. The young druid simply sat in shock, eyes wide but unseeing. Windstar and Jahira sat on either side of him, trying to provide reassurance.
Kel was the first to speak. "Now what do we do?" she asked her brother.
Alanon sighed. "I have to go after him, there's no question of that. But I have to go alone." He looked at the others firmly. "We have no idea what he's feeling like right now, and I want to take no chances."
The others agreed, Kel grudgingly, and he turned to go. He hadn't gone far when he became aware of Shaur dogging his heels. He looked at her sternly and opened his mouth, but she gave him a look of mute appeal, and what he had intended to say died in his throat. He turned and went on, permitting her to follow.
* * * * * *
Ashenvale was much changed from its "glory days," as the humans liked to call it, but it was still home. Alanon kept his hope buried deep as they approached the weathered house. Pitch may have moved on by now, or he could be in no shape for them to be safe around him, but he was Alanon's brother. He had to try to do something.
There was no sign of the druid around the house, and Alanon felt his heart sinking when he finally spotted a dark shape at the edge of the clearing. Pitch was sitting still and silent, his tail curled around his feet, looking out into the trees. Shaur gave a wordless cry and launched herself at him before Alanon could stop her, but all Pitch did was turn to nuzzle her as she threw her arms around him. Alanon approached more slowly.
"Shaur," he said quietly. "I know how you feel, but I need to have a word with him, okay? In private." The little druid nodded as she wiped her face, then turned cat and trotted back to the house. Alanon sat down next to Pitch.
Pitch spoke up softly before Alanon could say a word. "I see her in my dreams. I can still feel her next to me." He turned to look at him briefly before returning his attention to the forest. "How do you deal with it?"
Alanon was glad that he still spoke clearly, and he at least sounded sane. He answered slowly. "You remember the good parts. The bad parts will come as well, but they will stop eventually. And then... the good parts won't hurt as much, and you'll know you're on the way to healing."
Pitch took a deep, shuddering breath. "Do me a favor, brother," he said softly. "Take care of Loren for me. And don't come looking for me, or let anyone else try. If I'm able, I will come find you."
Alanon didn't like the sound of what he was saying. "If you're able? Pitch..."
Pitch turned to look at him again, and Alanon felt his heart fall at the sight. Pitch's eyes were empty of everything but pain, balancing barely on this side of madness. Then Alanon saw something else, and his blood turned cold. Something else looked at him through Pitch's eyes, something feral and wild. He realized that Pitch had released the cat.
"Pitch, no," he whispered. "Don't do this."
Whatever sanity was left in Pitch's eyes was slipping away, even as he watched. "I don't really care, Alanon," he replied. "I don't want to live anymore, not without her. Maybe with time that will change, but for now this is the only way."
"Pitch, please," Alanon said desperately. "You know what they'll do if they-"
Pitch stood up abruptly, cutting off the rest of the sentence. "Goodbye, Alanon," he said. "Gods willing, I will see you again someday." He started trotting, heading into the deep woods.
Alanon watched him go. "Goodbye, little brother," he whispered, although he was no longer sure if it was his brother he was speaking to. "Elune guide your path." He felt Shaurria come up to stand beside him, and they both watched the big black cat as he disappeared into the trees.
Shaurria broke the silence. "Should we go after him?"
Alanon was silent for a long minute. Finally he shook his head. "We can't help him, little one," he told her. "He needs to do this himself." He put one arm around her and started guiding her back to the house. "Come, let's go home."
* * * * * *
The cat was free- really, truly free- for the first time in its existence. It hunted when it was hungry, slept or wandered when it was not. It guarded the territory it had staked out, driving out the rival predators it found. Sometimes, rarely, it remembered the elf it had once been. But the elf had been hurt badly, and had gone into hiding to wait for healing. He rarely bothered the cat, so it was able to do as it wished.
Everything was not perfect, of course. On occasion invaders came to the cat's realm, sometimes stopping to hunt and sometimes simply passing straight through. Not animals, though- people. The cat would watch them, angry at the intrusion. It wanted to attack them, to drive them off or kill them, but something held it back each time, so it only watched until they left.
And sometimes the cat had dreams of another elf, a female with a pretty face and laughing eyes. But the dreams were... painful, so the cat shied away from them.
Someday, maybe, the dreams wouldn't hurt so much, and then things would change. The elf might return, and then they would go back. But such things were beyond the cat's comprehension, so overall, it was fairly happy. It hunted, and slept, and wandered, throughout the Ashenvale forest.
_______________
For anyone wondering, Loren is Pitch and Lark's son. Yes, I know she's supposed to be barren, but there is actually some RP starting soon (I hope) that may change that. So since this would be in the unspecified future anyway, I figured that it would have worked. Hence Loren.
And naturally he would be a druid. His father and half his aunts/uncles are all druids, so why not?
Thursday, May 12, 2011
Tuah
Shaurria was bored and lonely. Lark could sympathize, since everyone the youngster normally spent time with was gone- Pitch and Rheugan had left for Nagrand that morning, and Alanon was back in Hyjal. But after nearly tripping over the little druid for the third time, Lark had had enough. "Alright," she addressed the druid, and Shaur sat down to look at her alertly. "Do you want to go do something, anywhere? I'm not getting much done like this, and I've got some time off due anyway."
Shauria's forehead crinkled in thought, then she unshifted and looked up. "Uldum?" she asked tentatively. "Pitch took me there once and I liked it. But I haven't gotten t' go back since."
Lark nodded. "Uldum it is. Just let me tell Kal and get Wynd."
Kal didn't even look up when Lark popped her head in to say she was leaving, she just waved one hand distractedly. With that taken care of, Lark headed out to fetch her gryphon. In no time they were through the Earthen Ring's portal and flapping their way out into the desert.
Lark let Shaurria lead the way, and the little druid headed down the river toward the Delta. She finally flapped down to a landing just outside the Tol'vir city there, shifting to a cat as she did, and started playing in the water at the river's edge. Lark settled Wynd, then came over to sit a little ways away, outside of splashing range. Shaurria was apparently in a kittenish mood, and amused herself for a good while pouncing through the rushes after frogs and snakes. Lark had just started to doze off when the druid-cat suddenly went still, head up and ears pricked, looking over to the far bank.
Lark noticed and roused herself. "What is it, kitten?" she called, but Shaur only twitched one ear in her direction. Then abruptly she was bounding into the water, in the direction she had been facing.
Lark cursed to herself and hurried after her, whistling for Wynd. The gryphon came running, pausing just long enough for Lark to throw herself in the saddle before hopping into the air, to cross the river in an easy glide. Lark slid off her mount and waited, arms crossed, while Shaur reached the bank and pulled herself out, panting. "All right, little one," she said shortly. "What was that about?"
Shaurria unshifted to look at her incredulously. "Y'mean ya couldn't hear it?" she asked. Lark blinked at her. "Hear what?" She was answered, not by Shaur, but by a low chuffing moan from nearby. Shaur's eyes widened, and in a blink she had shifted again to go after the noise. Lark stopped her with a hand held in front of her nose. "Not so fast," she told the druid firmly. "We'll check it out together."
The two Night elves headed up the bank cautiously, into the brush surrounding the city walls. Lark kept one worried eye on the city itself- if anything came out after them, they were in a world of trouble. Everything seemed quiet, however, except for whatever animal was making those noises.
Lark smelled the blood just as Shaurria came to a stop, ears pricked and nose twitching. She unshifted again to point at a bush. "S'in there," she whispered, and Lark peered in. "I don't.." she started to say, then stopped as she realized that the splash of orange she could make out wasn't a plant- it was the biggest tiger she had ever seen. Lark grabbed for Shaur's arm, ready to beat it out of there, when she saw the cat's near hind leg. She stopped and stared, realizing that the tiger wasn't a danger after all.
It looked rather like the tiger's leg just above the hock had been pushed through a meat grinder. The grass it was lying on was stained with blood, and Lark could see flecks of shattered bone poking out of the meat. The tiger lay quietly, eyes almost shut, every now and again giving another of those rasping moans.
Shaurria pulled Lark out of her shock by tugging on her arm. "We have t' help him," she said softly. Lark swallowed and nodded, then carefully approached the tiger. Its eyes opened, glowing a strange purple color, but it simply watched her, eyes dull with pain. Lark crept up to within touching range, took a deep breath, and placed one hand on the cat's haunch.
The skin under her hand twitched, but otherwise it didn't move. Lark wasn't sure if that was a good sign- that the animal was used to being handled- or a bad one- that the injury was so severe it just didn't care anymore. She peered at the wound as closely as she dared, taking note of the tooth marks in the cat's leg. Shaur hovered anxiously just over her shoulder as she gently probed the leg. Finally she straightened up again.
"It's broken, and he's missing a good-sized chunk of that leg. Looks like a croc got him. He'll heal if he gets care, but he'll be crippled in that leg." Shaur looked at her, round-eyed, then peered at the cat. "S'what'll we do with 'im?" she asked. Lark sighed, mostly at the inevitability of it all. "We'll take him home and find him a healer," she told the younger elf. "And hope he survives the trip. It's a long way back, and he's lost a lot of blood."
She stood and went to get Wynd. The gryphon was used to carrying animal passengers, and the tiger was too far gone anyway to put up much of a struggle. She had only taken a step when Shaur's hand on her arm stopped her. She looked back irritably. "What now, kitten?"
Shaur just gave her a knowing grin. "We don' have t' move 'im hurt," she said. "I c'n heal 'im." Lark blinked, thinking with some chagrin that she had been with Pitch for too long. The thought hadn't even occurred to her.
The tiger gave another painful rasp. Lark nodded to the druid. "Go ahead, babe. See what you can do."
Before too much longer Lark had unrolled the pad behind Wynd's saddle and coaxed the cat up onto it. Wynd was used to ferrying her pets around and stood steady. The tiger was using his injured leg, albeit stiffly, and the remaining damage didn't look too bad. Shaur had done a good job.
The tiger was surprisingly placid. Lark didn't know if he was still sick or injured, if he really was used to being handled, or if he simply trusted the elves that much. She was worried it was the first, and kicked Wynd up into the air as soon as he was settled on the pad. Shaurria flapped along behind her, keeping watch in case the big cat slipped, but he clung to the pad as if he had been doing it all his life, and by the time they crossed the Uldum border Lark had stopped worrying. Mostly.
She was relieved when they finally arrived back in Stormwind. The tiger and Wynd both were worn out, so she wasted little time in directing the gryphon toward the University and getting him to the ground. She left the tiger in Shaur's care while she stabled Wynd, then they both coaxed the tiger into her room. Lark was a bit worried about her own pets, but Komah knew to stay well out of the way, and Quiloe seemed to take her cue from him, although the wolf watched them with wide eyes. The tiger ignored them both, limping over to the sleeping pad and dropping onto it with a sigh.
Shaurria knelt by the cat and began gently petting his head. "Are you gonna keep 'im?" she asked.
Lark sighed. "Probably," she answered. "Nether knows I don't need another pet, but they seem to keep forcing themselves on me anyway."
Shaur grinned at the attempted joke. "Whatcha gonna call 'im?"
Lark considered the big tiger for a moment. "I think he'll be Tuah," she said, and the cat's eyes opened to stare into hers. Behind that strange glow, Lark thought that he looked content.
Shauria's forehead crinkled in thought, then she unshifted and looked up. "Uldum?" she asked tentatively. "Pitch took me there once and I liked it. But I haven't gotten t' go back since."
Lark nodded. "Uldum it is. Just let me tell Kal and get Wynd."
Kal didn't even look up when Lark popped her head in to say she was leaving, she just waved one hand distractedly. With that taken care of, Lark headed out to fetch her gryphon. In no time they were through the Earthen Ring's portal and flapping their way out into the desert.
Lark let Shaurria lead the way, and the little druid headed down the river toward the Delta. She finally flapped down to a landing just outside the Tol'vir city there, shifting to a cat as she did, and started playing in the water at the river's edge. Lark settled Wynd, then came over to sit a little ways away, outside of splashing range. Shaurria was apparently in a kittenish mood, and amused herself for a good while pouncing through the rushes after frogs and snakes. Lark had just started to doze off when the druid-cat suddenly went still, head up and ears pricked, looking over to the far bank.
Lark noticed and roused herself. "What is it, kitten?" she called, but Shaur only twitched one ear in her direction. Then abruptly she was bounding into the water, in the direction she had been facing.
Lark cursed to herself and hurried after her, whistling for Wynd. The gryphon came running, pausing just long enough for Lark to throw herself in the saddle before hopping into the air, to cross the river in an easy glide. Lark slid off her mount and waited, arms crossed, while Shaur reached the bank and pulled herself out, panting. "All right, little one," she said shortly. "What was that about?"
Shaurria unshifted to look at her incredulously. "Y'mean ya couldn't hear it?" she asked. Lark blinked at her. "Hear what?" She was answered, not by Shaur, but by a low chuffing moan from nearby. Shaur's eyes widened, and in a blink she had shifted again to go after the noise. Lark stopped her with a hand held in front of her nose. "Not so fast," she told the druid firmly. "We'll check it out together."
The two Night elves headed up the bank cautiously, into the brush surrounding the city walls. Lark kept one worried eye on the city itself- if anything came out after them, they were in a world of trouble. Everything seemed quiet, however, except for whatever animal was making those noises.
Lark smelled the blood just as Shaurria came to a stop, ears pricked and nose twitching. She unshifted again to point at a bush. "S'in there," she whispered, and Lark peered in. "I don't.." she started to say, then stopped as she realized that the splash of orange she could make out wasn't a plant- it was the biggest tiger she had ever seen. Lark grabbed for Shaur's arm, ready to beat it out of there, when she saw the cat's near hind leg. She stopped and stared, realizing that the tiger wasn't a danger after all.
It looked rather like the tiger's leg just above the hock had been pushed through a meat grinder. The grass it was lying on was stained with blood, and Lark could see flecks of shattered bone poking out of the meat. The tiger lay quietly, eyes almost shut, every now and again giving another of those rasping moans.
Shaurria pulled Lark out of her shock by tugging on her arm. "We have t' help him," she said softly. Lark swallowed and nodded, then carefully approached the tiger. Its eyes opened, glowing a strange purple color, but it simply watched her, eyes dull with pain. Lark crept up to within touching range, took a deep breath, and placed one hand on the cat's haunch.
The skin under her hand twitched, but otherwise it didn't move. Lark wasn't sure if that was a good sign- that the animal was used to being handled- or a bad one- that the injury was so severe it just didn't care anymore. She peered at the wound as closely as she dared, taking note of the tooth marks in the cat's leg. Shaur hovered anxiously just over her shoulder as she gently probed the leg. Finally she straightened up again.
"It's broken, and he's missing a good-sized chunk of that leg. Looks like a croc got him. He'll heal if he gets care, but he'll be crippled in that leg." Shaur looked at her, round-eyed, then peered at the cat. "S'what'll we do with 'im?" she asked. Lark sighed, mostly at the inevitability of it all. "We'll take him home and find him a healer," she told the younger elf. "And hope he survives the trip. It's a long way back, and he's lost a lot of blood."
She stood and went to get Wynd. The gryphon was used to carrying animal passengers, and the tiger was too far gone anyway to put up much of a struggle. She had only taken a step when Shaur's hand on her arm stopped her. She looked back irritably. "What now, kitten?"
Shaur just gave her a knowing grin. "We don' have t' move 'im hurt," she said. "I c'n heal 'im." Lark blinked, thinking with some chagrin that she had been with Pitch for too long. The thought hadn't even occurred to her.
The tiger gave another painful rasp. Lark nodded to the druid. "Go ahead, babe. See what you can do."
Before too much longer Lark had unrolled the pad behind Wynd's saddle and coaxed the cat up onto it. Wynd was used to ferrying her pets around and stood steady. The tiger was using his injured leg, albeit stiffly, and the remaining damage didn't look too bad. Shaur had done a good job.
The tiger was surprisingly placid. Lark didn't know if he was still sick or injured, if he really was used to being handled, or if he simply trusted the elves that much. She was worried it was the first, and kicked Wynd up into the air as soon as he was settled on the pad. Shaurria flapped along behind her, keeping watch in case the big cat slipped, but he clung to the pad as if he had been doing it all his life, and by the time they crossed the Uldum border Lark had stopped worrying. Mostly.
She was relieved when they finally arrived back in Stormwind. The tiger and Wynd both were worn out, so she wasted little time in directing the gryphon toward the University and getting him to the ground. She left the tiger in Shaur's care while she stabled Wynd, then they both coaxed the tiger into her room. Lark was a bit worried about her own pets, but Komah knew to stay well out of the way, and Quiloe seemed to take her cue from him, although the wolf watched them with wide eyes. The tiger ignored them both, limping over to the sleeping pad and dropping onto it with a sigh.
Shaurria knelt by the cat and began gently petting his head. "Are you gonna keep 'im?" she asked.
Lark sighed. "Probably," she answered. "Nether knows I don't need another pet, but they seem to keep forcing themselves on me anyway."
Shaur grinned at the attempted joke. "Whatcha gonna call 'im?"
Lark considered the big tiger for a moment. "I think he'll be Tuah," she said, and the cat's eyes opened to stare into hers. Behind that strange glow, Lark thought that he looked content.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Plans
Oh hey, have some RP. Not finished yet, but the last part is looking to be a doozy, so I figured I'd post it separate. Enjoy!
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Rheugan launched himself clumsily into the air, flapping his wings hard to gain altitude. His landing was much smoother, as he came in to light on the tree branch next to Pitch. His mentor beamed at him. "That was much better. Just need to work on your takeoffs now." Rheugan just nodded- speaking as a bird was another thing he needed work on.
Pitch watched him as the small human left his bird shape and straddled the branch, peering fearlessly at the goings-on below them. "So," he said casually, and Rheugan looked up at him. "I thought we might make that trip back to Gilneas tomorrow. I mean, it'll be a lot safer now you can fly, and you could use the endurance training." Rheugan cocked his head. "You really th- ahh, if you think I can do it," he said, and Pitch grinned. "Sure you can. We'll go slow if we have to. But we'll be flying the whole way," he warned. "No gryphons, no shortcuts. So make sure you get plenty of rest tonight." Rheugan nodded, then looked down below them again, pensively.
Pitch eyed him. "You could be happier about it," he stated. "Is something wrong?"
The younger druid shrugged, then glanced up at him briefly. "If we're going.." he said slowly. "That means that Fells doesn't want me along on whatever that trip is she's planning, does she?" Pitch looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. "Well, no," he answered honestly. "But it's not because she thinks you'd be a bother."
"It's because I'm Gilnean, isn't it?" Rheugan asked softly. "Whatever she wants to do there, I gathered it isn't honest, and she thinks I'll object."
"I don't know," Pitch replied, then trailed off as he eyed his student curiously. "Would you?" he asked. Rheugan shrugged. "I don't know what she's after, so how would I know, eh? But she's made her choice, so what does it matter now?"
Pitch sighed as he looked away. Rheugan's soft voice brought him back, however. "Are you going?" The Night elf eyed the human for a long moment. "Yes," he said finally. "She said she needs a scout, and I am good at it, bragging or no." Rheugan wouldn't meet his eyes. "Do you... know what she's going after?" he asked hesitantly.
Pitch blinked, thinking fast. "No, she hasn't told me yet," he answered, wincing inwardly at the lie. "I imagine she will once we're all there. Look," he said as he sat up straighter on the branch. "I'll tell you all about it once we're back, all right? Bet it'll be quite the story." Rheugan nodded, rather listlessly, and Pitch looked at him sharply. "Are you okay, Rheu?" he asked, using the nickname the younger druid had tacitly deemed acceptable. The human shrugged. "Doesn't really matter, does it? It's decided."
Pitch frowned, but didn't press it. "Well, it's getting late," he said instead. "I'm going to turn in. You do the same soon, okay?" Without waiting for an answer, the Kal'dorei rolled right off the branch in a backwards somersault, changing to a bird and catching himself before he splattered on the ground. Rheugan watched in bemusement as his mentor flapped off toward the Mage District, then opted to shift to his bird form before hopping off himself.
* * * * * *
"I need a favor." Lark rolled over to look at him, her drowsiness vanishing as she raised an eyebrow. "Fells has a job going on in Gilneas, and I'm going as a scout," Pitch told her. "I don't know how long it'll take, though, and while I'm gone Rheugan will be on his own."
Lark nodded. "So you want me to keep an eye on him?" "If you could," he replied. "Shaurria was going to stay with him as much as possible, but my brother is heading back to Hyjal soon and I don't know if he's taking her or not." Lark frowned, deep in thought. "I can do better than that, I think," she said finally. "I was going to go over the grounds for a maintenance check soon, and I could use a cat or two to help."
Pitch brightened. "Oh that'd be perfect," he said. She grinned at him. "When?" she asked, and it was Pitch's turn to think. "Fells said a week and a half, and that was a couple days ago," he answered. "All right then," Lark told him. "Consider it taken care of." He beamed, letting out a huge sigh of relief. "Thanks. Whatever you'd like as repayment, just let me know."
Lark gave him a sly look, then grinned as she reached over and tugged at one ear. "Oh, I can think of a few things."
__________________
Rheugan launched himself clumsily into the air, flapping his wings hard to gain altitude. His landing was much smoother, as he came in to light on the tree branch next to Pitch. His mentor beamed at him. "That was much better. Just need to work on your takeoffs now." Rheugan just nodded- speaking as a bird was another thing he needed work on.
Pitch watched him as the small human left his bird shape and straddled the branch, peering fearlessly at the goings-on below them. "So," he said casually, and Rheugan looked up at him. "I thought we might make that trip back to Gilneas tomorrow. I mean, it'll be a lot safer now you can fly, and you could use the endurance training." Rheugan cocked his head. "You really th- ahh, if you think I can do it," he said, and Pitch grinned. "Sure you can. We'll go slow if we have to. But we'll be flying the whole way," he warned. "No gryphons, no shortcuts. So make sure you get plenty of rest tonight." Rheugan nodded, then looked down below them again, pensively.
Pitch eyed him. "You could be happier about it," he stated. "Is something wrong?"
The younger druid shrugged, then glanced up at him briefly. "If we're going.." he said slowly. "That means that Fells doesn't want me along on whatever that trip is she's planning, does she?" Pitch looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. "Well, no," he answered honestly. "But it's not because she thinks you'd be a bother."
"It's because I'm Gilnean, isn't it?" Rheugan asked softly. "Whatever she wants to do there, I gathered it isn't honest, and she thinks I'll object."
"I don't know," Pitch replied, then trailed off as he eyed his student curiously. "Would you?" he asked. Rheugan shrugged. "I don't know what she's after, so how would I know, eh? But she's made her choice, so what does it matter now?"
Pitch sighed as he looked away. Rheugan's soft voice brought him back, however. "Are you going?" The Night elf eyed the human for a long moment. "Yes," he said finally. "She said she needs a scout, and I am good at it, bragging or no." Rheugan wouldn't meet his eyes. "Do you... know what she's going after?" he asked hesitantly.
Pitch blinked, thinking fast. "No, she hasn't told me yet," he answered, wincing inwardly at the lie. "I imagine she will once we're all there. Look," he said as he sat up straighter on the branch. "I'll tell you all about it once we're back, all right? Bet it'll be quite the story." Rheugan nodded, rather listlessly, and Pitch looked at him sharply. "Are you okay, Rheu?" he asked, using the nickname the younger druid had tacitly deemed acceptable. The human shrugged. "Doesn't really matter, does it? It's decided."
Pitch frowned, but didn't press it. "Well, it's getting late," he said instead. "I'm going to turn in. You do the same soon, okay?" Without waiting for an answer, the Kal'dorei rolled right off the branch in a backwards somersault, changing to a bird and catching himself before he splattered on the ground. Rheugan watched in bemusement as his mentor flapped off toward the Mage District, then opted to shift to his bird form before hopping off himself.
* * * * * *
"I need a favor." Lark rolled over to look at him, her drowsiness vanishing as she raised an eyebrow. "Fells has a job going on in Gilneas, and I'm going as a scout," Pitch told her. "I don't know how long it'll take, though, and while I'm gone Rheugan will be on his own."
Lark nodded. "So you want me to keep an eye on him?" "If you could," he replied. "Shaurria was going to stay with him as much as possible, but my brother is heading back to Hyjal soon and I don't know if he's taking her or not." Lark frowned, deep in thought. "I can do better than that, I think," she said finally. "I was going to go over the grounds for a maintenance check soon, and I could use a cat or two to help."
Pitch brightened. "Oh that'd be perfect," he said. She grinned at him. "When?" she asked, and it was Pitch's turn to think. "Fells said a week and a half, and that was a couple days ago," he answered. "All right then," Lark told him. "Consider it taken care of." He beamed, letting out a huge sigh of relief. "Thanks. Whatever you'd like as repayment, just let me know."
Lark gave him a sly look, then grinned as she reached over and tugged at one ear. "Oh, I can think of a few things."
Monday, February 7, 2011
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Arvoss: Heading Out
Doing this one in 2 parts because 1. Cataclysm stuff is making it hard to concentrate, and 2. I just caught a cold, and brain will likely be muddled for the next week or two. Hopefully I'll still be able to finish this up, but I don't know how long it'll be now.
Urgh, hate colds.
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"You're insane."
Arvoss suppressed his sigh. Lark just stared at him incredulously. "You know what they did out there. Your son and I don't know how many others are missing or dead because of it. And you want to go out there alone?" She shook her head vehemently. "Not going to happen."
"Lass," Arvoss said softly. "Ye cannae stop me. Ah've got ta find out wha' 'appened t' Dav, but Ah'm nae riskin' annehone else's life fer it."
"So you're just going to sacrifice yourself?" Lark pulled out her buzzbox and flipped it on. "We'll see what everyone else thinks."
She made the mistake of not watching him, and he snatched it out of her hands in an instant. His voice became a trifle harder. "Lass, Ah willnae let ye do this. Ah'll be jes' fine, or are ye fergettin' wha' Ah am?"
Lark eyed him, then finally sighed and threw up her hands. "At least take one other, just so you have someone to watch your back. Pitch, for example. I'm sure he can take care of himself out there."
Arvoss shook his head. "Nae, Ah'll nae take yer lad. 'e'll most like need t' be 'ere fer Shaur, anyrate, t' keep 'er fra chasin' afteh me. An' Ah'll nae take yerself, either, sae dinnae ask."
She sighed again, then brightened. "All right, how about Windstar or her brother? They can take care of themselves as well, and that way I can be certain you'll get back safely. Even if they have to drag you back."
Arvoss gave an amused snort. "A'righ', lass. Ah'll call up Star oan mah way out o' th' city. Ye 'appy naow?"
He turned to leave, only to be stopped by Lark's hand on his arm. She gave him a wickedly triumphant grin. "You can call her right now. Or did you forget that you're still holding my buzzbox?"
Urgh, hate colds.
___________________
"You're insane."
Arvoss suppressed his sigh. Lark just stared at him incredulously. "You know what they did out there. Your son and I don't know how many others are missing or dead because of it. And you want to go out there alone?" She shook her head vehemently. "Not going to happen."
"Lass," Arvoss said softly. "Ye cannae stop me. Ah've got ta find out wha' 'appened t' Dav, but Ah'm nae riskin' annehone else's life fer it."
"So you're just going to sacrifice yourself?" Lark pulled out her buzzbox and flipped it on. "We'll see what everyone else thinks."
She made the mistake of not watching him, and he snatched it out of her hands in an instant. His voice became a trifle harder. "Lass, Ah willnae let ye do this. Ah'll be jes' fine, or are ye fergettin' wha' Ah am?"
Lark eyed him, then finally sighed and threw up her hands. "At least take one other, just so you have someone to watch your back. Pitch, for example. I'm sure he can take care of himself out there."
Arvoss shook his head. "Nae, Ah'll nae take yer lad. 'e'll most like need t' be 'ere fer Shaur, anyrate, t' keep 'er fra chasin' afteh me. An' Ah'll nae take yerself, either, sae dinnae ask."
She sighed again, then brightened. "All right, how about Windstar or her brother? They can take care of themselves as well, and that way I can be certain you'll get back safely. Even if they have to drag you back."
Arvoss gave an amused snort. "A'righ', lass. Ah'll call up Star oan mah way out o' th' city. Ye 'appy naow?"
He turned to leave, only to be stopped by Lark's hand on his arm. She gave him a wickedly triumphant grin. "You can call her right now. Or did you forget that you're still holding my buzzbox?"
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Lark: Mending
Lark was sitting on the edge of the Canal, feet hanging down just above the water level, and Quiloe curled up at her back. She didn't look up as the druid approached, but she spoke up when he drew near. "They cleaned the canal up pretty well. I'd almost consider eating the fish from it." Alanon chuckled as he sat down next to her. "Pitch does on occasion. He doesn't do it often, but you know how he is where food is concerned." She eyed him. "Mhmm. So long as he doesn't do it regularly. I may have to stop kissing him if he does."
That brought a laugh from the druid. "I'll pass the warning along," he told her, then grew more serious. "How are you doing?" Lark shrugged. "I'm managing," she said. "It's hard. Getting older doesn't make it any easier, either." "I know," he replied gently.
Lark looked over at him. "How do you manage it?" Alanon raised an eyebrow at her. "Seeing the ones you come to care for dying all around you? How do you do it?" He frowned in thought, staring down into the Canal. "I suppose it's a matter of balance," he said finally. She snorted. "That's not a real answer." He shrugged, still thoughtful. "Druids are balance, no matter what path they follow. I suppose it might be easier for us to understand."
Lark cut in. "Please don't start that mysticism stuff with me right now. I'm not sure if I can handle it." He looked at her for a moment. "I apologize," he said, then hesitated. "Lark..." "Don't." She cut that off too. "I know what you're going to say. Just don't." "You do realize that he loves you," the druid stated softly. She looked away. "I know," she whispered, then shook her head. "It's not any easier on me, I promise you that. It's too soon after Tuah. I can't right now." "I understand," he said.
Quiloe shifted slightly behind Lark, making herself more comfortable. Alanon watched the wolf for a bit, then reached over to scratch her ears. "Would you mind if I told a story?" he asked suddenly. Lark gave him a curious look. "Sure, why not?" He leaned back and closed his eyes, looking thoughtful, then opened them again and began.
"I met my best friend when I was six and she was four," he said. "We literally grew up together, Her name was Jaryla." He paused to look at her sideways. "I thought for the longest time that you and Pitch would wind up like we were." Lark blinked at him. "And that way was...?" He grinned. "Like I said, we were best friends. We shared nearly everything. We were never more than friends, however," He shook his head with a chuckle. "We tried to pair up once, and had to call it off. We were too alike in some ways, and too different in others." "Mhmm," she responded. "So you thought Pitch and I would end up like that?" "Yes," he said. "I should have known my brother better than that, though."
Lark smiled faintly. "He doesn't do things by halves, does he?" Alanon shook his head, then gave her a piercing look. "I know how he feels about you. But do you love him back?"
She stared down into the water. "Yes, I do," she replied quietly. "And it scares me to death." "Why?" he asked. "Because I've seen so many of them die," she told him. "I'm sick of it. If anything happened to him because he's with me..." "And why do you think something will happen? I haven't discovered any curses on you." Lark ignored his attempt at humor; she seemed to be struggling now to keep her composure. "The last time I felt like this about someone, we had two wonderful months together," she said. "Then I had to bury him and watch his pet die slowly, wasting away on his grave."
Alanon gave her a minute to collect herself, then asked her gently, "And it wasn't worth it? Would you have given up on that time you had together, just to have him live?" "Yes!" she cried, her face so full of pain that he very nearly regretted prodding her this way. "I would have, if it meant that he was still alive. And I can do the same for Pitch if I have to." "But he wouldn't settle for that," he said softly. "You know that."
Lark looked away, blinking rapidly several times. Alanon waited a minute before speaking again. "It's rare that we can love someone without getting hurt, whether it happens sooner or later." She looked back at him, her mouth twisting wryly. "Then why love at all?" He actually smiled. "That is something that each person has to answer for themselves. But for me? I would rather love and be hurt, than to never love at all. Not loving is not living. It's one of the things that shows we're alive."
She stared at him, then gave a very faint smile. "I think you would have gotten along famously with Lath. I can't even count the number of times he told me something similar." He cocked his head. "Who is Lath?" Her smile grew a fraction. "Lathenil Skywing, a Claw druid. He was my.. my first real partner. It's been almost five centuries since he died." Alanon frowned slightly. "I think I knew him." She blinked at him. "You knew him?" "Well, knew of him," he corrected. "He was with Jaryla once, briefly, probably right before he met you if I remember correctly." She stared, then dropped her gaze to her hands. "... I never knew what his life was like before we met. I never asked him." She looked back up. "Alanon?" "Hmm?" She hesitated a moment. "Where is Jaryla now?"
He sighed, deeply. "She fell at Hyjal. She and our daughter both." Lark looked down again. "I'm sorry." "It is long past," he said. "The pain is still there, but it's a good pain." That brought a raised eyebrow, and he smiled. "It means that I still remember her. So long as I do, a part of her still lives." Lark gave him a crooked grin. "Definitely sounds like Lath."
His smile faded. "Lark, I try not to ever tell people what to do. But before you decide what to do about your relationship with Pitch, perhaps you should think about what he'd be happy with." She looked down again, then answered, quietly, "I-.. I will." He nodded, then reached over to squeeze her shoulder. "Goodnight Lark," he said, then stood up and left her.
* * * * * *
Pitch brought his new bike to a stop near the fountain. In the sidecar, Lark looked out over the Harbor. "You can't see much of the damage from here," she commented. Pitch grunted, then looked down at her. "So," he said as he broke into a grin. "What do you think of it?" Lark had to grin back; his excitement was contagious. "It's nice, Pitch. But did you let me be the first to ride in it just to get me back into your bed?" He blinked at her. "Uh, no. Really, that wasn't what I was thinking." She laughed at him and he blushed, then grinned. "Although you know, if you'd like to...." She suddenly sobered. "Except that you don't have a bed anymore." He shrugged. "I'll find something. Until I do, the trees aren't all knocked down."
Lark looked down at her hands. "Um, Pitch? Would you... want to move in with me? You can always move out again if you find something better." He stared down at her for a minute; she could feel his eyes. "That'd actually be great," he said finally. "If you're okay with it." She nodded, glancing back up to grin at him crookedly. "I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't, you knucklehead." He chuckled.
They sat in companionable silence for a bit, then Pitch cleared his throat. "Uh, Lark?" "Pitch," she said immediately. "Please don't, babe. Not tonight." He looked at her, then away, out over the Harbor. "All right," was all he said.
He was hurt, though; she knew him well enough to tell. After a moment, she reached up and found his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He looked down, then grinned and squeezed back. "Want to go see if anyone's at the Pig?" he asked her. She considered, then shrugged. "Why not?" He kicked the bike into gear again, then they headed back into the city.
That brought a laugh from the druid. "I'll pass the warning along," he told her, then grew more serious. "How are you doing?" Lark shrugged. "I'm managing," she said. "It's hard. Getting older doesn't make it any easier, either." "I know," he replied gently.
Lark looked over at him. "How do you manage it?" Alanon raised an eyebrow at her. "Seeing the ones you come to care for dying all around you? How do you do it?" He frowned in thought, staring down into the Canal. "I suppose it's a matter of balance," he said finally. She snorted. "That's not a real answer." He shrugged, still thoughtful. "Druids are balance, no matter what path they follow. I suppose it might be easier for us to understand."
Lark cut in. "Please don't start that mysticism stuff with me right now. I'm not sure if I can handle it." He looked at her for a moment. "I apologize," he said, then hesitated. "Lark..." "Don't." She cut that off too. "I know what you're going to say. Just don't." "You do realize that he loves you," the druid stated softly. She looked away. "I know," she whispered, then shook her head. "It's not any easier on me, I promise you that. It's too soon after Tuah. I can't right now." "I understand," he said.
Quiloe shifted slightly behind Lark, making herself more comfortable. Alanon watched the wolf for a bit, then reached over to scratch her ears. "Would you mind if I told a story?" he asked suddenly. Lark gave him a curious look. "Sure, why not?" He leaned back and closed his eyes, looking thoughtful, then opened them again and began.
"I met my best friend when I was six and she was four," he said. "We literally grew up together, Her name was Jaryla." He paused to look at her sideways. "I thought for the longest time that you and Pitch would wind up like we were." Lark blinked at him. "And that way was...?" He grinned. "Like I said, we were best friends. We shared nearly everything. We were never more than friends, however," He shook his head with a chuckle. "We tried to pair up once, and had to call it off. We were too alike in some ways, and too different in others." "Mhmm," she responded. "So you thought Pitch and I would end up like that?" "Yes," he said. "I should have known my brother better than that, though."
Lark smiled faintly. "He doesn't do things by halves, does he?" Alanon shook his head, then gave her a piercing look. "I know how he feels about you. But do you love him back?"
She stared down into the water. "Yes, I do," she replied quietly. "And it scares me to death." "Why?" he asked. "Because I've seen so many of them die," she told him. "I'm sick of it. If anything happened to him because he's with me..." "And why do you think something will happen? I haven't discovered any curses on you." Lark ignored his attempt at humor; she seemed to be struggling now to keep her composure. "The last time I felt like this about someone, we had two wonderful months together," she said. "Then I had to bury him and watch his pet die slowly, wasting away on his grave."
Alanon gave her a minute to collect herself, then asked her gently, "And it wasn't worth it? Would you have given up on that time you had together, just to have him live?" "Yes!" she cried, her face so full of pain that he very nearly regretted prodding her this way. "I would have, if it meant that he was still alive. And I can do the same for Pitch if I have to." "But he wouldn't settle for that," he said softly. "You know that."
Lark looked away, blinking rapidly several times. Alanon waited a minute before speaking again. "It's rare that we can love someone without getting hurt, whether it happens sooner or later." She looked back at him, her mouth twisting wryly. "Then why love at all?" He actually smiled. "That is something that each person has to answer for themselves. But for me? I would rather love and be hurt, than to never love at all. Not loving is not living. It's one of the things that shows we're alive."
She stared at him, then gave a very faint smile. "I think you would have gotten along famously with Lath. I can't even count the number of times he told me something similar." He cocked his head. "Who is Lath?" Her smile grew a fraction. "Lathenil Skywing, a Claw druid. He was my.. my first real partner. It's been almost five centuries since he died." Alanon frowned slightly. "I think I knew him." She blinked at him. "You knew him?" "Well, knew of him," he corrected. "He was with Jaryla once, briefly, probably right before he met you if I remember correctly." She stared, then dropped her gaze to her hands. "... I never knew what his life was like before we met. I never asked him." She looked back up. "Alanon?" "Hmm?" She hesitated a moment. "Where is Jaryla now?"
He sighed, deeply. "She fell at Hyjal. She and our daughter both." Lark looked down again. "I'm sorry." "It is long past," he said. "The pain is still there, but it's a good pain." That brought a raised eyebrow, and he smiled. "It means that I still remember her. So long as I do, a part of her still lives." Lark gave him a crooked grin. "Definitely sounds like Lath."
His smile faded. "Lark, I try not to ever tell people what to do. But before you decide what to do about your relationship with Pitch, perhaps you should think about what he'd be happy with." She looked down again, then answered, quietly, "I-.. I will." He nodded, then reached over to squeeze her shoulder. "Goodnight Lark," he said, then stood up and left her.
* * * * * *
Pitch brought his new bike to a stop near the fountain. In the sidecar, Lark looked out over the Harbor. "You can't see much of the damage from here," she commented. Pitch grunted, then looked down at her. "So," he said as he broke into a grin. "What do you think of it?" Lark had to grin back; his excitement was contagious. "It's nice, Pitch. But did you let me be the first to ride in it just to get me back into your bed?" He blinked at her. "Uh, no. Really, that wasn't what I was thinking." She laughed at him and he blushed, then grinned. "Although you know, if you'd like to...." She suddenly sobered. "Except that you don't have a bed anymore." He shrugged. "I'll find something. Until I do, the trees aren't all knocked down."
Lark looked down at her hands. "Um, Pitch? Would you... want to move in with me? You can always move out again if you find something better." He stared down at her for a minute; she could feel his eyes. "That'd actually be great," he said finally. "If you're okay with it." She nodded, glancing back up to grin at him crookedly. "I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't, you knucklehead." He chuckled.
They sat in companionable silence for a bit, then Pitch cleared his throat. "Uh, Lark?" "Pitch," she said immediately. "Please don't, babe. Not tonight." He looked at her, then away, out over the Harbor. "All right," was all he said.
He was hurt, though; she knew him well enough to tell. After a moment, she reached up and found his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He looked down, then grinned and squeezed back. "Want to go see if anyone's at the Pig?" he asked her. She considered, then shrugged. "Why not?" He kicked the bike into gear again, then they headed back into the city.
Friday, November 26, 2010
The Shattering: Lark
Lark grabbed at the bench she was sitting on as another quake started. Nearby, the hippogryphs shrieked and flapped their wings in agitation. Lark silently cursed the temperamental creatures; they were the reason she was stuck in Auberdine, waiting for the ship to come back from Stormwind, instead of on her way to visit Rill at his Winterspring home as she'd promised.
The bird-like creatures were so skittish that they were refusing to fly. All air traffic entering or leaving the village had stopped, and Lark had had to turn back toward home. She knew Rill wouldn't mind once she explained, but she still felt irritated. She couldn't see what he saw in them.
She looked around for her pets, catching a flash of blue light as Komah prowled around a building. Tuah was somewhere close by as well, although she had left Quiloe back at the University under Pitch's care. Rill didn't care for wolves.
Satisfied, Lark returned to watching the dock for the ship to arrive. She paid no attention to the three men until they stopped several feet away, and she realized they were staring at her. She looked up with one eyebrow raised inquiringly. "Can I help you fellows?"
The biggest of the three humans glanced at his companions, then faced her. "Would you happen to be Lark?" he asked. She stared at them, noticing that two of them looked vaguely familiar, although she was certain she hadn't met them before. "Depends on why you're asking," she said flippantly, watching them warily now. The man next to him cleared his throat. "That's her," he told the other two gruffly. "I seen her with Darik a few times, and I recognize her."
The name sent a chill through Lark. "I don't know who that is, and I think you're mistaken," she told them firmly. The big man, who seemed to be the leader, took a step forward. "You knew my brother all right," he said, his tone turning threatening. "You're the one that killed him. Now we're gonna see justice done."
Lark stood up slowly, then froze as the third man, the one that hadn't spoken yet, pulled out a hand crossbow and pointed it at her. "This wouldn't be justice," she said softly, stalling for time. "This is murder, and you'll just be sent off to the gallows in my place." The leader gave a wicked grin. "Who's to say it's murder, when the only one to call it so is dead?" He nodded to the crossbowman, then all four of them had to catch their balance as the earth lurched again. Good, Lark thought. Maybe the quake would give her a chance to get away. And where were her pets?
We're here. Lark managed to keep her sudden relief from showing as she heard Komah's "voice." The huge cat leaped up onto the deck railing behind her, then jumped down to her side, growling loudly. Tuah appeared at the ramp, cutting off the men's escape route, and stared at them balefully.
The ground lurched again, the sky darkening rapidly. Komah didn't move, but his voice had an edge of worry. We have to get out of here, and not because of these scum, he said urgently. "Trying to," she replied quietly. Something was up in the sky, still in the distance but coming fast, bringing roiling black clouds with it. Lark felt a touch of fear, then forced her attention back to the men.
The other two men were watching the cats worriedly, but the leader was staring at the clouds too, and when he looked back she could see he was frightened. "Just shoot her and get it over with!" he snapped. Komah flattened his ears and roared, Tuah echoing an instant later. The startled crossbowman raised his weapon and Tuah hit him from the side. The moonstalker bowled the human over, knocking him into the other two.
Komah rounded on Lark and pushed her toward the edge of the deck. Run, he sent. Now! Lark obeyed without thinking, diving off the deck to the ground. She rolled to break her fall, then sat up as her eyes were pulled upward. Time seemed to stop.
Racing toward Auberdine was a creature so huge that it took Lark a moment to realize it was a dragon. It was misshapen, as if covered in armor plating. Rents crossed its hide in several places, flames leaking out to form a fiery trail behind. The clouds, she now realized, were smoke from the flames.
The ground bucked beneath her, and Lark scrambled to get to her feet. She started off into the forest as the roar of the dragon's flight sounded overhead. The trees around her shook and tossed, a few of them breaking free from the earth to smash into their neighbors. The ground was shaking so badly Lark could hardly keep her footing. Dimly, she felt Komah press against her side, helping her keep her balance as he pushed her even faster.
Then the world exploded.
* * * * * *
Lark woke up to a warm feeling spreading through her body. Komah was sitting next to her, eyes closed, glowing. She stared at him for a moment, then tried to sit up. Careful, she heard, and she stopped to blink at him. "You're healing me," she said incredulously. Yes, he replied. She shook her head, then winced as a stab of pain went through it. "Didn't know you could do that," she muttered at him, and the big cat rumbled in amusement as his eyes opened and the glow around him died down. I wasn't sure if I could either, he admitted. Good to know that I can.
Lark tested her limbs carefully, to find everything stiff and sore, but no broken bones. Most of her exposed skin had been burned from the dragon's flames, but nothing looked serious. Komah's healing hadn't healed her fully, but it had helped. She sat up more slowly, then looked around. Her good humor vanished.
"Oh, dear sweet Elune."
The trees immediately around her were still standing, but she could see others nearby that were now leaning crazily, their roots barely holding onto the earth. Shattered remains of other trees were scattered through the forest. Nearby she could hear the rush of water coming from a rift in the ground. And beyond that lay Auberdine...or at least, what was left of it. The buildings she could see were in ruins, the flightmaster's deck toppled to its side. Flames flickered here and there. The only living things she could see were a few elementals scattered throughout the ruins.
Lark felt numb. She slowly got to her feet, then looked over at Komah. He interpreted the look. There's no one alive in the town. But there is a small settlement farther up. A rescue party, I suppose. Lark looked back out to the village. "How long was I out, here?" she asked him. Little over a day, he replied. But they have buildings up already. You should go there to rest. Lark swallowed hard, then asked the question she dreaded. "Tuah?"
Komah was silent for a long minute. He held back those men while I got you to safety, he finally said. When the dragon hit, however, everything happened too fast. No one got out. I'm sorry, Lark.
Lark nodded without speaking. Tuah... Suddenly she found herself back on the ground, though she didn't remember sitting. Komah was at her side in an instant, nudging under her arm, helping her to stand back up. Come, he said gently. Let's get to shelter.
The Kal'dorei at the outpost made a fuss over her as soon as she stumbled into view. She let them do what they wanted, not resisting as first the healer checked her over, then she was escorted to a hastily-constructed hut. It was quiet and had a cot in it- that was all she cared about at the moment. Once the other elves had left her to rest, she sat down on the cot, staring at her boots. In her mind, she was seeing a young moonstalker batting at them.
Komah stood by her, watching but not speaking. After a long while, she pulled her boots off, then curled up on her side on the cot. Komah lay down on the floor next to her, and she let one hand trail over the cot's edge to rest on his head as she let the tears come.
That was how Pitch found her, shortly before dark.
The bird-like creatures were so skittish that they were refusing to fly. All air traffic entering or leaving the village had stopped, and Lark had had to turn back toward home. She knew Rill wouldn't mind once she explained, but she still felt irritated. She couldn't see what he saw in them.
She looked around for her pets, catching a flash of blue light as Komah prowled around a building. Tuah was somewhere close by as well, although she had left Quiloe back at the University under Pitch's care. Rill didn't care for wolves.
Satisfied, Lark returned to watching the dock for the ship to arrive. She paid no attention to the three men until they stopped several feet away, and she realized they were staring at her. She looked up with one eyebrow raised inquiringly. "Can I help you fellows?"
The biggest of the three humans glanced at his companions, then faced her. "Would you happen to be Lark?" he asked. She stared at them, noticing that two of them looked vaguely familiar, although she was certain she hadn't met them before. "Depends on why you're asking," she said flippantly, watching them warily now. The man next to him cleared his throat. "That's her," he told the other two gruffly. "I seen her with Darik a few times, and I recognize her."
The name sent a chill through Lark. "I don't know who that is, and I think you're mistaken," she told them firmly. The big man, who seemed to be the leader, took a step forward. "You knew my brother all right," he said, his tone turning threatening. "You're the one that killed him. Now we're gonna see justice done."
Lark stood up slowly, then froze as the third man, the one that hadn't spoken yet, pulled out a hand crossbow and pointed it at her. "This wouldn't be justice," she said softly, stalling for time. "This is murder, and you'll just be sent off to the gallows in my place." The leader gave a wicked grin. "Who's to say it's murder, when the only one to call it so is dead?" He nodded to the crossbowman, then all four of them had to catch their balance as the earth lurched again. Good, Lark thought. Maybe the quake would give her a chance to get away. And where were her pets?
We're here. Lark managed to keep her sudden relief from showing as she heard Komah's "voice." The huge cat leaped up onto the deck railing behind her, then jumped down to her side, growling loudly. Tuah appeared at the ramp, cutting off the men's escape route, and stared at them balefully.
The ground lurched again, the sky darkening rapidly. Komah didn't move, but his voice had an edge of worry. We have to get out of here, and not because of these scum, he said urgently. "Trying to," she replied quietly. Something was up in the sky, still in the distance but coming fast, bringing roiling black clouds with it. Lark felt a touch of fear, then forced her attention back to the men.
The other two men were watching the cats worriedly, but the leader was staring at the clouds too, and when he looked back she could see he was frightened. "Just shoot her and get it over with!" he snapped. Komah flattened his ears and roared, Tuah echoing an instant later. The startled crossbowman raised his weapon and Tuah hit him from the side. The moonstalker bowled the human over, knocking him into the other two.
Komah rounded on Lark and pushed her toward the edge of the deck. Run, he sent. Now! Lark obeyed without thinking, diving off the deck to the ground. She rolled to break her fall, then sat up as her eyes were pulled upward. Time seemed to stop.
Racing toward Auberdine was a creature so huge that it took Lark a moment to realize it was a dragon. It was misshapen, as if covered in armor plating. Rents crossed its hide in several places, flames leaking out to form a fiery trail behind. The clouds, she now realized, were smoke from the flames.
The ground bucked beneath her, and Lark scrambled to get to her feet. She started off into the forest as the roar of the dragon's flight sounded overhead. The trees around her shook and tossed, a few of them breaking free from the earth to smash into their neighbors. The ground was shaking so badly Lark could hardly keep her footing. Dimly, she felt Komah press against her side, helping her keep her balance as he pushed her even faster.
Then the world exploded.
* * * * * *
Lark woke up to a warm feeling spreading through her body. Komah was sitting next to her, eyes closed, glowing. She stared at him for a moment, then tried to sit up. Careful, she heard, and she stopped to blink at him. "You're healing me," she said incredulously. Yes, he replied. She shook her head, then winced as a stab of pain went through it. "Didn't know you could do that," she muttered at him, and the big cat rumbled in amusement as his eyes opened and the glow around him died down. I wasn't sure if I could either, he admitted. Good to know that I can.
Lark tested her limbs carefully, to find everything stiff and sore, but no broken bones. Most of her exposed skin had been burned from the dragon's flames, but nothing looked serious. Komah's healing hadn't healed her fully, but it had helped. She sat up more slowly, then looked around. Her good humor vanished.
"Oh, dear sweet Elune."
The trees immediately around her were still standing, but she could see others nearby that were now leaning crazily, their roots barely holding onto the earth. Shattered remains of other trees were scattered through the forest. Nearby she could hear the rush of water coming from a rift in the ground. And beyond that lay Auberdine...or at least, what was left of it. The buildings she could see were in ruins, the flightmaster's deck toppled to its side. Flames flickered here and there. The only living things she could see were a few elementals scattered throughout the ruins.
Lark felt numb. She slowly got to her feet, then looked over at Komah. He interpreted the look. There's no one alive in the town. But there is a small settlement farther up. A rescue party, I suppose. Lark looked back out to the village. "How long was I out, here?" she asked him. Little over a day, he replied. But they have buildings up already. You should go there to rest. Lark swallowed hard, then asked the question she dreaded. "Tuah?"
Komah was silent for a long minute. He held back those men while I got you to safety, he finally said. When the dragon hit, however, everything happened too fast. No one got out. I'm sorry, Lark.
Lark nodded without speaking. Tuah... Suddenly she found herself back on the ground, though she didn't remember sitting. Komah was at her side in an instant, nudging under her arm, helping her to stand back up. Come, he said gently. Let's get to shelter.
The Kal'dorei at the outpost made a fuss over her as soon as she stumbled into view. She let them do what they wanted, not resisting as first the healer checked her over, then she was escorted to a hastily-constructed hut. It was quiet and had a cot in it- that was all she cared about at the moment. Once the other elves had left her to rest, she sat down on the cot, staring at her boots. In her mind, she was seeing a young moonstalker batting at them.
Komah stood by her, watching but not speaking. After a long while, she pulled her boots off, then curled up on her side on the cot. Komah lay down on the floor next to her, and she let one hand trail over the cot's edge to rest on his head as she let the tears come.
That was how Pitch found her, shortly before dark.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Rill and Lark at the Pig
Just because they're cute. And because everything I've written between these two so far has been awkward. >.>
__________________
Rillìan eyes Wildlark up and down.
Rillìan says: Y'gonna drink that're stare at it?
Wildlark shrugs.
Rillìan says: How's yer fella doing?
Wildlark says: He's fine, just out until late
Wildlark eyes Rillìan up and down.
Wildlark says: So don't get any ideas
Rillìan holds his hands up with a snicker. "I ain't."
Rillìan lets out a long, drawn-out sigh.
Rillìan says: Been a day, ain't it?
Wildlark says: Always is
Wildlark says: Rill?
Rillìan says: Mmph?
Wildlark says: Do you remember that first job?
Rillìan says: Course I do. Y'bloody got me t' sneak int' your room t' rob ya
Wildlark snickers.
Wildlark says: You made it easy. At least you've learned to be more cautious
Rillìan says: Woulda gotten away 'cept for that wolf o' yours, ya know
Wildlark grins.
Wildlark says: No you wouldn't. I knew you were there. Nether, why do you think it took Vei so long to attack?
Rillìan grunts. "Yer spoiling all my delusions, lass."
Wildlark laughs.
Wildlark says: You were younger
Rillìan says: Not so much
Rillìan says: Only been two hundred years, lass
Wildlark says: Still, I'm sure you're a lot better at your business now than you were then
Rillìan smirks slyly at Wildlark.
Rillìan says: Y'want me t' show ya?
Wildlark gives Rill a mock-glare.
Wildlark says: I have another wolf now, don't forget
Wildlark glances down at Komah as he growls.
Wildlark says: And two others as backup
Rillìan waves his hands. "Alright, alright."
Wildlark yawns sleepily.
Wildlark says: Maybe we ought to call it a day
Rillìan grunts again.
Rillìan says: Mind if I walk ya out?
Wildlark says: Nope
__________________
Rillìan eyes Wildlark up and down.
Rillìan says: Y'gonna drink that're stare at it?
Wildlark shrugs.
Rillìan says: How's yer fella doing?
Wildlark says: He's fine, just out until late
Wildlark eyes Rillìan up and down.
Wildlark says: So don't get any ideas
Rillìan holds his hands up with a snicker. "I ain't."
Rillìan lets out a long, drawn-out sigh.
Rillìan says: Been a day, ain't it?
Wildlark says: Always is
Wildlark says: Rill?
Rillìan says: Mmph?
Wildlark says: Do you remember that first job?
Rillìan says: Course I do. Y'bloody got me t' sneak int' your room t' rob ya
Wildlark snickers.
Wildlark says: You made it easy. At least you've learned to be more cautious
Rillìan says: Woulda gotten away 'cept for that wolf o' yours, ya know
Wildlark grins.
Wildlark says: No you wouldn't. I knew you were there. Nether, why do you think it took Vei so long to attack?
Rillìan grunts. "Yer spoiling all my delusions, lass."
Wildlark laughs.
Wildlark says: You were younger
Rillìan says: Not so much
Rillìan says: Only been two hundred years, lass
Wildlark says: Still, I'm sure you're a lot better at your business now than you were then
Rillìan smirks slyly at Wildlark.
Rillìan says: Y'want me t' show ya?
Wildlark gives Rill a mock-glare.
Wildlark says: I have another wolf now, don't forget
Wildlark glances down at Komah as he growls.
Wildlark says: And two others as backup
Rillìan waves his hands. "Alright, alright."
Wildlark yawns sleepily.
Wildlark says: Maybe we ought to call it a day
Rillìan grunts again.
Rillìan says: Mind if I walk ya out?
Wildlark says: Nope
Monday, November 8, 2010
A Chat With A Spirit-Cat
Lark sat up, only to discover her hand captured when she tried to stand. She looked back with a raised eyebrow, but Pitch only kissed the inside of her wrist before releasing her with a sleepy smile. She returned the smile as she stood and began gathering her clothes.
Slipping out of Pitch's room and closing the door behind her, she turned to see Komah stretched out on the floor of the shop below. She peered through the darkness for her other cat, then looked at him. "Tuah?" Home, he replied. He got tired of waiting. Lark chuckled as she let herself and the big spirit-cat out of the shop.
She felt a flash of surprise from Komah when she turned for the Harbor instead of the Mage District, but he said nothing. She led the way to the fountain and sat; when he hopped up and settled next to her she started stroking his back absently.
Lark finally broke the silence. "Do you miss Har'koa?" Komah blinked at her, then turned his head away, a gesture she had come to recognize as his version of a shrug. A little. I miss being with my own kind. But it's not bad, I was never the most... "popular." Lark digested that for a bit. "Did you love her?" she asked, and he turned back to blink at her again. She felt his surprise.
He was silent for a few minutes, and Lark started wondering if she had offended him somehow. Finally, however, he answered. We don't understand "love" as your kind do, he said. But, she was my mate, and I would have died for her. As I would for you, if it ever becomes necessary.
Now it was Lark's turn to blink. Before she could form a reply to that, he surprised her again. Lark, why don't you take Pitch as your mate? She frowned. "I would have thought you'd know by now. I don't want to get him killed." But why are you so sure it will happen? She looked away without answering. He gently butted his broad head against her arm. You can't be sure of the future, he said. It might be that you and he could have a long life together. She looked back at him, then gave a crooked grin. "I didn't know you were paying attention so closely when I spoke to Arvoss." He blinked again, and she felt his amusement.
Her own humor was short-lived. She hugged her knees, resting her chin on them and staring out over the Harbor. "He's asked me about it a few times, you know," she said. "He never presses it, though, just lets it drop when I say no." But then he asks again another time, Komah replied. I know. If he's so persistent, though, why do you keep turning him down? Lark shrugged. "You know why. I just.... I'm not sure how much longer I can keep telling him no." The cat's only response was another slow blink.
Lark sighed to herself, then dropped one hand to his head, rubbing gently. After a few minutes of silence, she looked down at him again. "So you don't have any regrets about joining up with me?" she asked him. Komah seemed unfazed by the change of subject. None, he said. This has been as interesting as I ever could have asked for. I'm content. Lark smiled at the affection he sent through their bond. "Think I'm ready to head to bed," she said. "How about you?" He replied by standing up and hopping off the fountain. After you, he told her. Side-by-side, they headed back to the University grounds.
Slipping out of Pitch's room and closing the door behind her, she turned to see Komah stretched out on the floor of the shop below. She peered through the darkness for her other cat, then looked at him. "Tuah?" Home, he replied. He got tired of waiting. Lark chuckled as she let herself and the big spirit-cat out of the shop.
She felt a flash of surprise from Komah when she turned for the Harbor instead of the Mage District, but he said nothing. She led the way to the fountain and sat; when he hopped up and settled next to her she started stroking his back absently.
Lark finally broke the silence. "Do you miss Har'koa?" Komah blinked at her, then turned his head away, a gesture she had come to recognize as his version of a shrug. A little. I miss being with my own kind. But it's not bad, I was never the most... "popular." Lark digested that for a bit. "Did you love her?" she asked, and he turned back to blink at her again. She felt his surprise.
He was silent for a few minutes, and Lark started wondering if she had offended him somehow. Finally, however, he answered. We don't understand "love" as your kind do, he said. But, she was my mate, and I would have died for her. As I would for you, if it ever becomes necessary.
Now it was Lark's turn to blink. Before she could form a reply to that, he surprised her again. Lark, why don't you take Pitch as your mate? She frowned. "I would have thought you'd know by now. I don't want to get him killed." But why are you so sure it will happen? She looked away without answering. He gently butted his broad head against her arm. You can't be sure of the future, he said. It might be that you and he could have a long life together. She looked back at him, then gave a crooked grin. "I didn't know you were paying attention so closely when I spoke to Arvoss." He blinked again, and she felt his amusement.
Her own humor was short-lived. She hugged her knees, resting her chin on them and staring out over the Harbor. "He's asked me about it a few times, you know," she said. "He never presses it, though, just lets it drop when I say no." But then he asks again another time, Komah replied. I know. If he's so persistent, though, why do you keep turning him down? Lark shrugged. "You know why. I just.... I'm not sure how much longer I can keep telling him no." The cat's only response was another slow blink.
Lark sighed to herself, then dropped one hand to his head, rubbing gently. After a few minutes of silence, she looked down at him again. "So you don't have any regrets about joining up with me?" she asked him. Komah seemed unfazed by the change of subject. None, he said. This has been as interesting as I ever could have asked for. I'm content. Lark smiled at the affection he sent through their bond. "Think I'm ready to head to bed," she said. "How about you?" He replied by standing up and hopping off the fountain. After you, he told her. Side-by-side, they headed back to the University grounds.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Lark and Rill
I'm not really 100% happy with this one, but didn't want to delay it any longer. I blame writer's block.
Poor Lark is not in the best frame of mind right now. Neither is Pitch, really. This is the beginning of setting up some RP between the two of them that will happen closer to Cata.
I really need to do an "about" post of Rill, just to get a better feel for his character if nothing else.
Anywho, this would have happened early last week, a couple days after the last post about these two. Enjoy!
____________________
It was very, very late. And dark, for that matter. Lark knew she ought to be in bed, but she felt restless. She tried not to think about how she usually got rid of these moods- with a night spent with Pitch- as she made her way to the Docks. He was gone for the night, out in Northrend with Shaur for some reason she couldn't remember now. He wouldn't be back until the following evening, so she would have to deal with it.
She avoided the guards with ease, her Kal'dorei night vision allowing her to see them well before they saw her. A shadowed nook made a perfect place to sit without being disturbed, and Komah was nosing around as well. He would let her know if anyone approached.
No sooner had that thought crossed her mind when she "heard" him. Your friend is heading straight for you. Lark looked up just as Rillian dropped down at her side. He looked over at her with a cheeky grin. "Heya, lass. Nice spot, but what'cha doin' here alone?" Lark snorted, then waved a hand to one side. The soft blue glow from Komah's markings could be seen in the darkness. "Not alone, babe," she told him dryly, and it was his turn to snort. "Ayeh, keep forgetting 'bout your critters."
He kept watching her, and after a moment his expression turned curious. “So why ain’t ya in bed? Gettin’ back t’ your roots?” He snickered, but Lark just rolled her eyes. “Just… couldn’t sleep yet,” she answered. His head tilted as he regarded her. "Where's your fella?" he asked after a pause. Lark gave him an irritated look. "Gone. He'll be back in a couple days," she told him, not quite snapping at him. Rill spread his hands in a placating gesture. "Easy lass. What've I done t' make ya snippy?"
She looked at him, her irritation suddenly draining away. "Sorry, Rill," she said quietly. "It's nothing. Just in a mood." He chuckled, shifting a bit closer. "No worries, lass, though I think y' found the reason ya can't sleep." One hand touched her shoulder cautiously, then when she made no objection he ran it along the back of her neck. "'Lune, Lark, you're stiff as an old board," he commented. She just grunted as his fingers began kneading her neck and shoulders. Neither of them said anything else for several minutes, as he worked at getting the knots out.
Lark was almost falling asleep despite herself when she felt Rill shift behind her. His breath tickled her ear. "Maybe we can put you in a better mood, eh?" he whispered, a little hoarsely, then he gently kissed her cheek. She made no move to stop him, and after a moment he kissed her again, his hands lightly caressing her shoulders. Almost unconsciously, she leaned back against him, and his arms went around her as he nuzzled into her. Her eyes closed as he went from her ear down her neck, his hands moving to her belt and starting to loosen it.
Unbidden, an image of Pitch suddenly came up in her mind. She opened her eyes again with a start, torn by sudden confusion.
She and Pitch had made no promises to each other. She was free to do what she wanted; she was even pretty sure that if she did spend the night with Rill and he found out about it, he wouldn't care. So why did she feel like she was cheating on him?
She couldn't do it. Her hands covered Rill's, stilling them. "Wait, Rill." He seemed to pick up on her change of mood immediately- he was moving his hands away almost before she touched him. He scooted himself back to his original spot, looking her over with a rather regretful smile on his face. "S'alright, lo- lass," he said. "Though I thought we might actually get somewhere this time." Lark couldn't quite meet his eyes. "I'm sorry," she started, but Rill waved a hand, cutting her off as he stood.
Looking down at her for a moment, the rogue reached down and lightly squeezed her shoulder- a casual gesture between friends, no more. "Go on back t' your druid, girl," he told her, not unkindly. As he turned to leave he hesitated, then added, "I'll be in town for a couple days yet, finishing things up, then I'm back t' home. Might go hang around Dalaran for a bit after that, not sure yet. G'night, lass." Lark nodded, but he was already gone.
Komah came up to her, and she absently scratched around his ears before getting to her own feet. She made her way back to her room on the University grounds, then dug out the small bottle she kept for "emergencies". Pouring out a glass of the mead, she downed it quickly, then made herself get into bed.
It was still a long time before she fell asleep.
Poor Lark is not in the best frame of mind right now. Neither is Pitch, really. This is the beginning of setting up some RP between the two of them that will happen closer to Cata.
I really need to do an "about" post of Rill, just to get a better feel for his character if nothing else.
Anywho, this would have happened early last week, a couple days after the last post about these two. Enjoy!
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It was very, very late. And dark, for that matter. Lark knew she ought to be in bed, but she felt restless. She tried not to think about how she usually got rid of these moods- with a night spent with Pitch- as she made her way to the Docks. He was gone for the night, out in Northrend with Shaur for some reason she couldn't remember now. He wouldn't be back until the following evening, so she would have to deal with it.
She avoided the guards with ease, her Kal'dorei night vision allowing her to see them well before they saw her. A shadowed nook made a perfect place to sit without being disturbed, and Komah was nosing around as well. He would let her know if anyone approached.
No sooner had that thought crossed her mind when she "heard" him. Your friend is heading straight for you. Lark looked up just as Rillian dropped down at her side. He looked over at her with a cheeky grin. "Heya, lass. Nice spot, but what'cha doin' here alone?" Lark snorted, then waved a hand to one side. The soft blue glow from Komah's markings could be seen in the darkness. "Not alone, babe," she told him dryly, and it was his turn to snort. "Ayeh, keep forgetting 'bout your critters."
He kept watching her, and after a moment his expression turned curious. “So why ain’t ya in bed? Gettin’ back t’ your roots?” He snickered, but Lark just rolled her eyes. “Just… couldn’t sleep yet,” she answered. His head tilted as he regarded her. "Where's your fella?" he asked after a pause. Lark gave him an irritated look. "Gone. He'll be back in a couple days," she told him, not quite snapping at him. Rill spread his hands in a placating gesture. "Easy lass. What've I done t' make ya snippy?"
She looked at him, her irritation suddenly draining away. "Sorry, Rill," she said quietly. "It's nothing. Just in a mood." He chuckled, shifting a bit closer. "No worries, lass, though I think y' found the reason ya can't sleep." One hand touched her shoulder cautiously, then when she made no objection he ran it along the back of her neck. "'Lune, Lark, you're stiff as an old board," he commented. She just grunted as his fingers began kneading her neck and shoulders. Neither of them said anything else for several minutes, as he worked at getting the knots out.
Lark was almost falling asleep despite herself when she felt Rill shift behind her. His breath tickled her ear. "Maybe we can put you in a better mood, eh?" he whispered, a little hoarsely, then he gently kissed her cheek. She made no move to stop him, and after a moment he kissed her again, his hands lightly caressing her shoulders. Almost unconsciously, she leaned back against him, and his arms went around her as he nuzzled into her. Her eyes closed as he went from her ear down her neck, his hands moving to her belt and starting to loosen it.
Unbidden, an image of Pitch suddenly came up in her mind. She opened her eyes again with a start, torn by sudden confusion.
She and Pitch had made no promises to each other. She was free to do what she wanted; she was even pretty sure that if she did spend the night with Rill and he found out about it, he wouldn't care. So why did she feel like she was cheating on him?
She couldn't do it. Her hands covered Rill's, stilling them. "Wait, Rill." He seemed to pick up on her change of mood immediately- he was moving his hands away almost before she touched him. He scooted himself back to his original spot, looking her over with a rather regretful smile on his face. "S'alright, lo- lass," he said. "Though I thought we might actually get somewhere this time." Lark couldn't quite meet his eyes. "I'm sorry," she started, but Rill waved a hand, cutting her off as he stood.
Looking down at her for a moment, the rogue reached down and lightly squeezed her shoulder- a casual gesture between friends, no more. "Go on back t' your druid, girl," he told her, not unkindly. As he turned to leave he hesitated, then added, "I'll be in town for a couple days yet, finishing things up, then I'm back t' home. Might go hang around Dalaran for a bit after that, not sure yet. G'night, lass." Lark nodded, but he was already gone.
Komah came up to her, and she absently scratched around his ears before getting to her own feet. She made her way back to her room on the University grounds, then dug out the small bottle she kept for "emergencies". Pouring out a glass of the mead, she downed it quickly, then made herself get into bed.
It was still a long time before she fell asleep.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Lark: Rillian
So I mentioned that Rill had gotten some RP time already. His first night went pretty well, but the second time he visited the Pig he managed to get on Seylon's bad side, by making a rather... improper comment about her son. Lark felt obliged to track him down and try to straighten him out a bit afterward. This would be the following afternoon.
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Lark found Rill sitting on a stack of crates at the docks. He was half-hidden in the shadows, and she wondered briefly if he did that on purpose or if it was just unconscious instinct by now. She wandered over casually, then hopped up to a crate just below him and sat. Tuah curled up on a pile of sacks below her.
Rill's eyes flicked over to her immediately. "'Lo, lass." His tone was perfectly neutral, and she wondered if he was angry over last night. "Heya," she greeted him back. "Everything alright?" he asked. "Yes," she replied. "I just wanted to talk to you." He gave her a crooked grin at that. "S'at so?"
Lark held back her sigh. He definitely wasn't going to make this easy on her. "Look, Rill?" she began. "I know you're used to doing what you want around the goblins and people of Winterspring, but you can't really do that stuff here." He made a sour face at her. "Is'at all ya came t' say, love?" he asked, his tone now matching his expression. "Please don't call me that," she said. Rill gave her a searching look, then abruptly shrugged and looked away, out over the ocean. "A'right then," was all he said.
Lark followed his gaze, just as the boat that went to and from Northrend pulled in to dock. She glanced back at Rill; he was staring at the boat, but she couldn't tell if he was really looking at it, or if he saw something else. "Wanting to be gone already?" she asked him softly. He grinned crookedly at her again. "One thing ya got right, lass, is that this ain't home," he told her. "I won't ever argue that with ya. But my business here ain't done yet." He sighed. "But aye, I miss my girl." He paused and looked at her sideways. "...s'kinda nice t' get away from the 'Lune-blasted snow, though," he added, and Lark snickered.
Tuah grumbled as he shifted around, trying to get comfortable. The rogue glanced at him, then back at her. "Lass, that last big trip we went on..." he began, and Lark felt her throat tighten. Was he going to bring it up again? But his next words were a bit of a surprise. "I, uh," he said hesitantly, then blurted the rest in a rush. "Y'said I couldn't understand, what I put ya through. Well, I've seen a mite more since then, and.... you're right, it's not something I could ever understand." Now he looked at her, as if begging her to understand. "But I think I've got a better idea of what ya went through, and I'm sorry for what I did and said."
Lark just blinked at him at first, unsure if she'd heard him correctly. Rill never apologized for anything he could get away with, and to hear him do so now, with no obligation, was a bit of a shock. "It's... I didn't mean everything I said, Rill," she finally said. "It was a long time ago. Time heals." He gave her a faint smile. "Maybe. But maybe it doesn't heal everything."
Lark looked away, suddenly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was going. Rill shifted around on the crate, making it creak ominously. "So," he said, his tone switching to the casual banter that they had always used with each other. "Why don't ya give me a few pointers on how t' avoid getting someone's blade stuck in me?"
Lark snickered a bit, then again as his expression turned hurt. "Well, for starters, don't insult anyone else's kids. Or else I'll not only not defend you, I'll hold you down so they can beat you." She shot him a glare for emphasis, which faded somewhat as he chuckled. "Think I can manage that well enough. Anythin' else?" She thought for a moment. "Stop tweaking Pitch's ears, while you're at it. He hates it." Rill cocked his head. "Pitch." He didn't quite make it a question.
Lark hesitated for just a second. "The druid. Big black kitty-cat?" "Ahh," he said. "That yer new man, then?" She hesitated again, and he looked at her curiously. "He's my... my current partner, yes. But we're not more than friends, really." His raised eyebrow spoke volumes, but he didn't press it, which she was grateful for. "Also, if you meet a human named Bricu, try to be polite? He can be a bit... touchy sometimes."
Rill's grin returned as he nodded. "Think I can remember that." He suddenly looked past her, toward the nearby dock, his eyes narrowing intently. Lark turned to look too, and caught a flash of movement as someone stepped behind a pile of crates there. Human, she thought. She looked back at Rill with a raised eyebrow, and he gave her his crooked grin. "My contact," he explained. "Best be off. I'll catch ya later, lass."
Lark nodded and stood, hopping down off the crate without further comment. Tuah got up immediately and fell in at her heel, as if glad to be going. She looked back once at her friend, who gave her a little wave, then made a shooing motion. Smiling to herself, Lark left him to his "work".
__________________
Lark found Rill sitting on a stack of crates at the docks. He was half-hidden in the shadows, and she wondered briefly if he did that on purpose or if it was just unconscious instinct by now. She wandered over casually, then hopped up to a crate just below him and sat. Tuah curled up on a pile of sacks below her.
Rill's eyes flicked over to her immediately. "'Lo, lass." His tone was perfectly neutral, and she wondered if he was angry over last night. "Heya," she greeted him back. "Everything alright?" he asked. "Yes," she replied. "I just wanted to talk to you." He gave her a crooked grin at that. "S'at so?"
Lark held back her sigh. He definitely wasn't going to make this easy on her. "Look, Rill?" she began. "I know you're used to doing what you want around the goblins and people of Winterspring, but you can't really do that stuff here." He made a sour face at her. "Is'at all ya came t' say, love?" he asked, his tone now matching his expression. "Please don't call me that," she said. Rill gave her a searching look, then abruptly shrugged and looked away, out over the ocean. "A'right then," was all he said.
Lark followed his gaze, just as the boat that went to and from Northrend pulled in to dock. She glanced back at Rill; he was staring at the boat, but she couldn't tell if he was really looking at it, or if he saw something else. "Wanting to be gone already?" she asked him softly. He grinned crookedly at her again. "One thing ya got right, lass, is that this ain't home," he told her. "I won't ever argue that with ya. But my business here ain't done yet." He sighed. "But aye, I miss my girl." He paused and looked at her sideways. "...s'kinda nice t' get away from the 'Lune-blasted snow, though," he added, and Lark snickered.
Tuah grumbled as he shifted around, trying to get comfortable. The rogue glanced at him, then back at her. "Lass, that last big trip we went on..." he began, and Lark felt her throat tighten. Was he going to bring it up again? But his next words were a bit of a surprise. "I, uh," he said hesitantly, then blurted the rest in a rush. "Y'said I couldn't understand, what I put ya through. Well, I've seen a mite more since then, and.... you're right, it's not something I could ever understand." Now he looked at her, as if begging her to understand. "But I think I've got a better idea of what ya went through, and I'm sorry for what I did and said."
Lark just blinked at him at first, unsure if she'd heard him correctly. Rill never apologized for anything he could get away with, and to hear him do so now, with no obligation, was a bit of a shock. "It's... I didn't mean everything I said, Rill," she finally said. "It was a long time ago. Time heals." He gave her a faint smile. "Maybe. But maybe it doesn't heal everything."
Lark looked away, suddenly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was going. Rill shifted around on the crate, making it creak ominously. "So," he said, his tone switching to the casual banter that they had always used with each other. "Why don't ya give me a few pointers on how t' avoid getting someone's blade stuck in me?"
Lark snickered a bit, then again as his expression turned hurt. "Well, for starters, don't insult anyone else's kids. Or else I'll not only not defend you, I'll hold you down so they can beat you." She shot him a glare for emphasis, which faded somewhat as he chuckled. "Think I can manage that well enough. Anythin' else?" She thought for a moment. "Stop tweaking Pitch's ears, while you're at it. He hates it." Rill cocked his head. "Pitch." He didn't quite make it a question.
Lark hesitated for just a second. "The druid. Big black kitty-cat?" "Ahh," he said. "That yer new man, then?" She hesitated again, and he looked at her curiously. "He's my... my current partner, yes. But we're not more than friends, really." His raised eyebrow spoke volumes, but he didn't press it, which she was grateful for. "Also, if you meet a human named Bricu, try to be polite? He can be a bit... touchy sometimes."
Rill's grin returned as he nodded. "Think I can remember that." He suddenly looked past her, toward the nearby dock, his eyes narrowing intently. Lark turned to look too, and caught a flash of movement as someone stepped behind a pile of crates there. Human, she thought. She looked back at Rill with a raised eyebrow, and he gave her his crooked grin. "My contact," he explained. "Best be off. I'll catch ya later, lass."
Lark nodded and stood, hopping down off the crate without further comment. Tuah got up immediately and fell in at her heel, as if glad to be going. She looked back once at her friend, who gave her a little wave, then made a shooing motion. Smiling to herself, Lark left him to his "work".
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