Mecca in the Maelstrom
Age: Wolf: 21 :: BPS: 33Species: Canus
Gender: MaleSpiritual Rank: Liason
Posts: 68 Stones: 1,170.25❂ Played by: Lashes
He Spoke to Me in Madness and I understood His Reason
#13

the nexus of sensation


I leave her too discover herself.  Turn my nose to harsh winds.  My Lantern, I allow to stay at her side.  A measure of trust I must contend with, for Emory's heat was needed far more with her shivering nudity than my thick pelt.  Nevertheless there is an anxiety that rises in my chest, one that only occurs in the Lantern's absence from my kinetic diameter. With a chuff, I sneer at my own frenzy, and settle my mind on the task before me. My blindfold is likewise left in a pile by shredded orange peel and gold candle-light.  Unwilling am I too give wind opportunity to steal Phos from my face. Strange though it felt to entrust these sacred items with a nameless stranger, I consoled myself with the viciousness of our surrounding environment. She could not take them from me either.

Before the large wolf stepped into frigid winds and building snow, he took a few steps left and a step backwards, reorienting himself northwest.  Lowering his head, ears high, Jackal braced himself, and walked into white.

Wind sang whistling pitches while grabbing his pelt and tugging in all direction.  Frost lined nostrils and mouth within moments.  Snow collected in chunks.  Toes grew numb as he continued his steady pursuit up the elevated slope.  His lungs ached with the crisp cold air, oxygen thinned by elevation. Ears throbbed in sharp ache, until he felt pressure on his lymph noids. north west. twenty-nine. right, left, right, left, fifteen. sixteen. seventeen. Braced step by step, the indigo beast made his way underneath an overhang.  Snow thinned, and pressures of wind diminished.
  
He caught his breath.

A few species of flora managed to survive at these heights, outside of the magical sanctity of inner caverns.  Hardy, stunted trees and tangled brush.  This was a source he used often, a strategical decision to inhabit the cave paces behind him. Shaking a layer of snow off, Jackal seized whatever mangle of branches he could and ripped them from their source.  It would be enough to maintain fire, even if the flame needed energy from him as well as the fodder in his maw.

His return occurred hundreds of heart-beats later, a hulking form of alabaster.  Snow slid from him in chunks as he picked his way back to the warm scent of his company.  Grinning, the wolf released his claim of kindling a pace away.  We shall worry on this in a moment. Taking relieving breaths, the wolf sunk to his stomach, cheek pressed against a hot glass panel of his Lantern, and sighed in rest.  What do you call yourself, my transformed companion? His bass lifted, ears angled to her breath.  His intentions of aid were nearly complete, but his voyage into alpine grips had sapped his energy, so a measure of leisure was required.

Well enough, for I know so very little of you, my mysterious surprise.

Words


Art by Lashes. Bg Texture by Tasha.


@Royal Phoenix @Tasha

Jackal possesses the Unicorn's Tear. He is able to heal any wound but his own.
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Age: VIIISpecies: Canis
Gender: FemaleSpiritual Rank: Conceiver
Posts: 24 Stones: 591.85❂ Played by: Tasha
The stars are in blossom, the moon is in flower, and bright are the windows of night in her tower.
#14

Lost in a reverie, a dream once a nightmare now turned paradisaical; in this engulfing embrace of darkness and visions, my thoughts in this form are innumerable. They pulse with fickle strength as they pass through my consciousness, thousands upon thousands of various conceptions and notions flying passed my inner eye at light speed. 

I find myself sitting cross legged, surrounded by a seeming plague of shadows in the indigo man's absence, and yet I am no longer afraid. What replaced my fear was a harrowing, and nearly overwhelming sense of wanderlust, one that surpassed any volition I had to leave my original birthplace. 

In this oasis of cold frigidity, after battling such a malady that I was sure would take the very life from my vessels, I am merely invigorated, rebirthed anew and aching to spread my metaphoric wings. This hairless skin was far more sensitive to the cold than I would have liked, but in my visions I distinctly remembered the cloth such creatures used to warm themselves. Perhaps it was this factor midst many others that allowed their species to live wherever they pleased, whether it was in the imminent danger of snow crested peaks, or in the hottest, driest deserts. 

The words of my father choose to echo within the confines of my mind. 

“Do not let my stories dull your perception, my daughter. They were the apex predators of this world, and ruled it for many generations. Only the gods above know what brought their might to its knees.”

The only light therein my proximity was the dull, quiet flicker of the man's lantern, what I assumed was a sacred, and powerful relic which reflected his intrinsic nature and poise. With my morphed hand now outstretched, I touched the carefully crafted glass and the exquisite stone plastered midst its stature, and watched with fascination as the flame, seemingly with an awareness all its own, appeared to lean away from my caress the closer it came. 

Whatever entity was housed within the flame was unmistakably otherworldly, whether it was brought to this world by magic or conjured here by magic, its soul was real, almost tangible, and extremely lacking in trust in my lonesome presence. 

If I were not so weak, plus a precarious stranger...perhaps she would lend me some of her flame.

When his heavy footsteps could be heard at the mouth of the chasm, I felt myself relax ever slightly. With him he brought wooden fodder, and kindling. With my powers at full ambiance I could have easily conjured up the flames necessary for warmth, but his tutelary comportment would surely perpetuate for the duration of this strange, and unique struggle of caretaker and malignancy-entrapped student. When he spoke, interest took his chords, playing his voice in a deep, soothing baritone with exquisite skill. 

“What do you call yourself, my transformed companion?”

It is he instead who probes the query first, the query so heavily on my disease-laden mind this entire continuance. I felt it necessary to divulge to him my truest title, out of respect for his cryptic, yet wholly generous deeds unto my person. 

“I am Vethysnia, The Royal Phoenix shamaness of the Rajasthan Steppe...”

I replied quietly, noting how my voice sounded the same as it did before, but a touch higher in pitch. Was this the genuine sound of my words now that I had transformed? I wrapped my arms around my torso, sensitive to the cold and yet able to aptly ignore such a sensation. The ever still nameless man's sightless eyes focused themselves aimlessly, but it was evident he was paying close attention to what I spoke. 

“And you...? I find it ever so strange that given the circumstances we took our sweet time with introductions...”

With that, I could not help but laugh slightly, my chuckle somehow a lighthearted melody echoing throughout the cavern. The smell of oranges was becoming more, and more intoxicating. He was still donning the threads of canine veins and bones; if he, too, had achieved this kind of metamorphosis, part of me yearned to know him in that form as well. 



@Jackal

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Age: Wolf: 21 :: BPS: 33Species: Canus
Gender: MaleSpiritual Rank: Liason
Posts: 68 Stones: 1,170.25❂ Played by: Lashes
He Spoke to Me in Madness and I understood His Reason
#15

the nexus of sensation


I am Vethnysia, The Royal Phoenix of the Rajasthan Steppe.

The entirity of her volumptuous title poured into his ears like honey.  He let the echo of her voice resound through his skull, so the whispers of her title continued to sing.  Her gratitude permitted him with more than a nickname, but the full history of her people.  He knew not where this Rajasthan Steppe was located, but the tingle of yearning was already conspiring in his chest, the mettle that crated him into such a divine and dangerous Vagabond.  And you...? I find it ever so strange that given the circumstances we took our sweet time with introduction.  Her laughter cascaded with the drips of water surrounding them.  Jackal grinned.

Do you?  Names were not necessary when I found you, writhing in fever sweat.  The blind wolf teased, tail sweeping across cavern stone.  He rubbed his cheek against Lantern glass, inhaled candle smoke and neroli, and relaxed further into his lounge.  I am Jâç-Astor Vur, exiled Vagabond of the Arete Guides.  You will call me Jackal.  His tone did not leave space for arguments or disobediance.  If she were as astute as he suspected she was, she would comprehend the gravity of his true name being offered to her ears.   He would not repeat it to her ever again.

After a lingering moment, the wolf eased himself back to his paws, and proceeded to fetch the gather of sticks he'd dropped a few paces away.  To her he brought the bundle and placed it upon open stone between them.  Pleased with the impromptu location, the blindwolf moved to his beloved possession, and exhaled hot breath upon her cracked southern panel.  with a small metallic click, the panel swung open.

A gust of dragon heat swept across them both from Emory's candle.  Jackal sighed, feeling all his muscles relax at once.  Ears twisted back to Vethnysia.  Grab a small collection of sticks, and request the use of Her light. The wolf stepped to the side, allowing the newly made woman to interact with his beloved.

Words * Thoughts * Royal




@Royal Phoenix  @Tasha

Jackal possesses the Unicorn's Tear. He is able to heal any wound but his own.
Reply
Age: VIIISpecies: Canis
Gender: FemaleSpiritual Rank: Conceiver
Posts: 24 Stones: 591.85❂ Played by: Tasha
The stars are in blossom, the moon is in flower, and bright are the windows of night in her tower.
#16

The intensity in his aimless stare mounted as I spoke, as though my words were not enough to truly portray the grand scope of my homeland. Even as my time here grew to more, and more great lengths, the memory of my birthplace was as fresh as it was waning. The memories I would form here would surely be enriching, and would become forever the backbone of my persona in the years to come. But I could not shake the uneasiness that all I once knew might soon be forgotten so that these new, potent recollections would take stronger root. 

“Do you? Names were not necessary when I found you, writhing in fever sweat.” I could only smile apologetically at his words. I was from one would call a 'proper' society, one that was formed with rigid guidelines that were more akin to overruling regulations and on the basis of strict gender roles. For a woman to be crowned the Shaman of the Rajasthan Steppe was a momentous occasion indeed, and much to the chagrin of some. As a woman I must not have let men have any power over me, and I would do things on my own and by myself to a fault. I was self sufficient; until earlier, when he nursed me through my transformation. 

“I am Jâç-Astor Vur, exiled Vagabond of the Arete Guides. You will call me Jackal. “ Jackal...Jackal... His name echoed eerily therein the orbiting compass of my mind and somehow it seemed ever so appropriate for someone who enjoyed scavenging for souls in dreary, snow-enveloped morning hours. “Grab a small collection of sticks, and request the use of Her light.” He said, after opening the lantern's side venire and placing his pile of kindling upon a heavy, single stone betwixt them. 

I blinked, my head turning to further observe his effervescent flame so full of life and ethereal personality. I stilled my thoughts, constricted the reactive properties of my heart and soul, and said unto her a softly whispered plead. I willed whatever entity within the precocious little fire to trust me, to believe, and know that I meant no harm and that I was wholly bound to respect and revere any extension of Jackal's being. 

“Your light as bright as silver
and curves alight with gold
your soul emanates that which
serves the primordial and old. 

On this blistery night I beg you
beseech unto me your trust
and through each trial you 
provide I will do what I must. 

Soothe our weary senses
bathe our cognition thickly
so that we may no longer endure
that which is sallow and sickly.”



@Lashes @Jackal

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