an advanced play-by-post realistic wolf roleplay

[AW] Sæglópur

LThe siblings had been entirely unprepared for the winter that Elysnia brought upon them.

Winter would never been an easy season for Vaimiti wolves; they lived on open plains and beaches, where the sun would shine upon their backs and the gentle sea breeze would tousle their fur. In any other season, they would thrive, but when winter’s icy grip snuffed out the sunlight and brought a fierce wind chill, they had to retreat into their dens and wait out the cold - leaving only to hunt. With numbers, this was a task that could be completed. But here they had been so few...

Heiata knew now they should have left, before the elements had been given the chance to snatch his siblings from him once again. But it was too late; Maeva and Makoa had vanished. He was entirely alone, but the winter was not finished with him yet.

The once great male had become a shell of his former self. Patchwork pelt clung to his ribs, eyes that were usually so vibrant were now dull, but life stubbornly continued. He was gravely ill, but Heiata would not allow his body to succumb to this sickness - not until he had reunited with his siblings. He had to be sure they were alive and safe. Then winter could do what it liked.

He had retreated to the forest at the first signs of illness - as much as it pained the male to leave the ocean’s side; the Fjord that his siblings had hoped to call home, and the chance that his siblings could return. Maybe if they had remained together; maybe if he hadn’t gotten so ill, they could have waited out the winter in the Fjord.

But he had failed at that, Heiata thought bitterly. He had lost his siblings twice, and now there was a very real chance he might not see spring.

But Heiata knew that if he was to survive the winter he would need to remain under the shelter of trees. He had taken shelter in an old badger set, using what little remained of his strength to dig out the dirt to make the hole a more comfortable fit. He remained there now, but hunger gnawed at his belly, and the patchwork male knew he would need to try and find something to eat, and soon.

"we're all young and naive still"
table x manip ▶▶ claerie. stock ▶▶ Angelina Odemchuk & Castle Graphics

Every day she found herself farther from the pine grove and closer to the grasslands. The evergreens gave way to gnarled empty oaks, their bows heavy with snow and naked of leaves. Here, the grounds were nearly pure white without heavy branches to keep away the worst of winter. Here, her paws grew numb until they stung and the very tips of her ears ached.

She needed the meadows. She didn't care if the pines would harbor her from winter's wrath. She yearned for the brush of grass against her legs, soft dirt under paw, the wind in her fur - familiarity. She was restless beyond repair - her paws would not halt and her heart would not still. And when the night blessed her with sleep she swore she felt teeth on her throat and a second heartbeat in her stomach.

It was nothing. Nothing. She was only hungry. The last of the fallen stag Astollo and she had feasted on had been stolen away by ravens, and she was a wisp now that the wind might steal away. Her golden fur had lost its luster, and her eyes were unpolished gems. Her skin hurt and her lungs ached, the barest smudge of blood trailing in the wake of her paws.

The meadow. She needed the grass-

The badger den went unnoticed. She stepped over it without second thought, her paw pushing snow into its entrance as she carried on down the path she dared to walk alone.

art and table by soar


In all his five years, this was easily the harshest winter Faunn had had to endure. The wind was bitter cold, lasting clear through the day unfettered by whatever warmth might normally bring itself when the sun rose, and the snow seemed endless with its driving force. All around him Elsynia smelled of near-death and anguish, much as if the land was on its last breath of hope that Spring would ever come, or that there was any end in sight at all. Just today he had come across the carcasses of two large elk, picked completely clean by all manner of hungry animal and leaving no trace of anything edible left behind. He'd even stumbled directly into the bones of a dead wolf - a stranger, no discernible features left to recognize - over which he'd muttered a simple and wordless prayer.

Gaia - are you there?

No amount of digging brought him to the end of the snow. No amount of scavenging was offering him any return on the precious investment of time and body energy. Day by day, Faunn's frame became somewhat more gaunt, rattled by the strength of the winter. His only saving grace was his knowledge in the wares of the earth: he ate anything of substance he could find, including the bark of specific trees and any greenery he could uncover. As luck would have it, he had also come across the freshly dead corpse of a gray fox, though what meat would be found on its bones was yet to be determined. Clenched between his teeth and dangling between his front legs, Faunn was attempting to take the carcass to a more protected location (namely out of sight of the vicious carrion birds and other hungry predators in the vicinity) when he watched with loose interest as another wolf - Aely - tiptoed through the wood. Unsure of the level of danger they might present (for the winter was driving many mad with hunger) Faunn stopped in his tracks, paws rooted deep in the snow as he followed her with his eyes.

Soon thereafter his paws did so too: shuffling forward into a slow walk, the ginger and ivory healer found his way to her tracks where he followed her many yards back, using her trek through the snow to ease his own passing. In doing so, he placed himself directly at the mouth of the badger den by complete chance. Perhaps, in an indirect way, Gaia had heard him after all.

Faunn was moments away from entering it when he discovered the fresh spoor and scent surrounding it. This hole, however lost in the wood it was, was not vacant as he previously expected. Bending low to deposit the fox at his feet, he craned his neck to peer as best he could, tilting his head and breathing deep a sniff to determine what - or who - might be inside, altogether forgetting about the female he was following.

@Heiata @Aely

( ooc: hope you don't mind i'm hopping in c: )


the sound of footfalls above the den reached the male’s ears, shaking him from his sickness induced stupor. Wearily he lifted his head, ears perked upon his crown as they strained for any further sounds. His hearing was the once sense he could still rely on, though it was often flawed without the help of scent; the scent of his own sickness overwhelmed the patchwork male’s sense of smell. So he listened in silence. They had been too heavy for the usual creatures that passed above, but perhaps another of his kind...

Heiata crawled tentatively forward. Perhaps the source of the sound would still be around. If it was another wolf, he could only hope they were friendly, willing to help a sick stranger. He was too weak to fight now, a violent stranger would spell his death. His mind thought to Metsuna. He had been in far better shape on their first encounter, and still the white male had been willing to share a meal with a total stranger. It was a kindness that Heiata would happily repay.

But would he be so lucky this time?

A figure blocked the entrance - a russet and cream stranger. Heiata felt his spirits lift slightly. So there was another wolf. They might not want to help him - they might even harm him; but Heiata was never one to think the worst of others. So the male heaved himself forward. “Excuse me,” he murmured, a little too late as he pushed his way past the stranger and collapsed into the snow.

"we're all young and naive still"
table x manip ▶▶ claerie. stock ▶▶ Angelina Odemchuk & Castle Graphics

@Aely, @Faunn

From her distance, the noise was small and nameless, a breath in the quiet of a sleepy wood. But for a wolf on edge as she, its sound echoed and rattled her heart until she found herself swiveling sharply in the snow to face it. Her steps trailed behind her through the white, a clear line that led to a wolf of stark red and white, and a dappled fellow at his paws.

How had she... missed them? Her skin crawled - was her mind playing tricks? Was this the illness she could not name?

No. No, there had been no one there when she had passed. She was certain of it. Her attention slipped to the den that darkened the snow behind them, sure that she had woken them when she had passed. But the patchwork wolf was grand - perhaps as large as... Metsuna, and she couldn't imagine both wolves fitting in such a hollow.

Aely's lips pressed tight, the uncertainty of the moment keeping her from venturing much closer than a nearby tree which she hid half-behind. Not that she wanted to truly veil herself - it had never been her way to do so.

"Is he dead?" she asked from her tree, her voice crisp as the ice that ensnared her lungs.

art and table by soar

@Faunn @Heiata

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