Topic: Of Wolves and Iron

Annike Jakobsson

Date: 2009-04-14 06:30 EST
It seemed to have rained for days, leaving to wonder if perhaps nature could reflect emotion. Those blue eyes were a canvas, a mural of storm clouds and lightning....grave yards and shattered glass.

They had hunted, it was something ever shared between them. It only seemed reasonable to do so again when the Dancer returned after weeks of being away.

Apologies couldn't make it to her lips. Come the Spring it seemed the Beast was more about then the Dancer. The prior night events spoke volumes of such.

Fresh memory left her touching her lips, tattooed fingers brushing. Trembling from the sensation as much as the cold. That hunger, that awareness still lingered as a smoldering kiss in those Ghost lit depths.

Fingers smoothed back the slick trail of gold from her eyes. Tonight there had been tears, emotions, anguish and pain. Annike had to wonder if perhaps she was nothing more then the harbinger of these emotions. Those feelings.

Still she was no longer blind to other emotions that stirred. The conversation just hours ago, the heart shattering words between two she cared for. Ever caught between.

That at least had been healed. They were pack. Ever bound.

The thought left her as a honing beacon. She knew Desiree would come given time, after the discussion with Tristan.

The young wolf would be able to find the camp easy enough. Instead of the usual forest floor as bed she ducked within the shelter of the cave. She knew the promise of warmth would be there.

Traithgren had waited. Strangely enough he seemed to understand her. In tune with each other just by simple gestures. Even Annike was learning.

A weary smile she dropped down by the fire,drawing the comfort of furs that were used as blankets over her form. Exhausted those blue eyes watched him for a lingering moment before sleep pulled her away and claimed her once again.

Traithgren Blackhawk

Date: 2009-04-15 16:47 EST
The hulking figure that was the Barbarian sat in calm stoic silence. Earthen eyes stared down at the orange glow provided by the camp's fire, its dance reflected from those pools of auburn.

Statuesque, the Barbarian didn't move, offered no signs of awareness to Annike's presence, until after, the woman went to sleep. Stirring, the giant of a man's head tilted just a touch, a nearly inconceivable movement that had his gaze lingering more directly on the slumbering woman.

It was late, he was tired, emotionally, physically, and mentally, rest was decided upon. With near silent shifting, the Barbarian rolled onto his back, tugging up the extra furs that lined the camp's floor, and drifted off to a restless sleep.

It was a dreamless state he found himself in, too bothered by a myriad of desires, wants, wishes, needs, fears, uncertainties, willing and unwilling to acknowledge and face them. The Barbarian's mind was a whirl, if ever there was a time when he missed the simplicity of his home, his people and tribes, it was then.

Several times he woke in the middle of the night, each time he was left groggy, but unable to fall back asleep for many moments. Finally, he fell back asleep and into a dream, a memory actually, of times long past.

~Blackhawk~

He is a young man amongst a tribe of Barbarians; his is the Blackhawk tribe, strong and proud warriors, huntsmen, and lead by the courageous Vektragh, who took over after the death of Traithgren's father. He leads hunts, rather than follows in them, is a decorated hero amongst his tribe, respected, loved, and feared.

It's a simple time for Traithgren, one of hunts, feasts, drinks, women, songs, and stories. Children look up to him, men envy him, women lust after him. All is right in Traithgren's world. The forest is his master, as he is to it in return. The two live in a harmonious balance, the barbarians respecting it, and in return, it doing the same to them. He woke up, still it was nightfall, silent as can be, as if all around him was swept up in his brief slumber, and smothered from existence. He knew better, knew it was simply late, or early, and the world was still resting. Traithgren would not rest with the world, resigned to stay up for the duration of the dark sky's presence, sitting up amongst the small pile of furs he made for himself, playing guardian over the small camp and Annike.

Annike Jakobsson

Date: 2009-04-15 18:17 EST
~ The Woads~

"They are not like you, little Doll. This you must learn. Forget them. Forget what you know of them..." "But I do not understand....they feel....like home."

Her whisper was so fragile, those blue eyes summer skies that had yet to be haunted. Even as the angry red that scarred her hands in the fresh marking of inked tattoos played a torment to the eyes, she was still naive and innocent to the ways of the world. Her eyes were not so haunted then.

She was fifteen and lovely. Porcelain skin and those blue eyes, the spiral curls of Gold. Watching against the shadow embrace of tree trunk the camp of Woads even as the Doll Maker sighed impatiently. She waited until she heard his footsteps retreat.

They were strangely beautiful. She was drawn to them....both by nature of Beast and Dancer. Harmony. Peace. They were not kin, that much she knew....but the tribal ways, seemed something she remembered.

Their women were so bold, the men so strong...protective....it made her give the belief that the men of the Woads were guardians, protectors. Never to let harm come to the women and children of their tribe. The women though didn't seem to need protection. So bold....so strong. Independent and lovely in their tribal beauty.

She wished....she yearned....to be like them

His fighting and restless slumber did not elude her. For hours she pretended to sleep. She was skilled at it. The way to keep breathing and movements to seem the dream like twitches in slumber. She knew that he watched her and it softened something within her. So blind, it had to be pointed out to her.

A twist of sadness came to cord within her heart. Bonded with the Albino from that moment of the Albino's wounds. As Healer she had taken the woman's pain and made it her own. A sharing of a kinship and understanding that was not severed. Kindred Spirits she spoke in a language that the Albino would understand. Touch. Looks. Without words. The Ghost ever stayed with bonds and promises. Kept the Vows made. She would not fade away, she would not go anywhere.

It was an easy torment that weight she carried on her soul. Obligation and Affection. Bond and Understanding. It seemed so easy....till her heart fell into the patterns of her life....joined that lifeblood symphony.

Childlike she had been....recently the Naive nature of Innocence was starting to fall away and she was all the more aware of needs, wishes, desires, affection.

She thought it had been confusion, mistake, the emotions pushed and locked away. Annike denied the truth that was before her very eyes. It was not so easy now.

Her eyes opened then, those blue eyes....once summer drenched were winter haunted. Ever winter haunted...but gradually the blue of eyes was becoming spring bloom of forget-me-nots and bluebells.

Winter melting into Spring in those ghost lit depths as she looked upon the Barbarian. A tentative smile. She felt exposed in front of him, always so easy to read....and that terrified her as much as it put her heart at ease. To be understood. A blessing and a curse.

She crawled to him, holding blanket to her wil-o-wisp frame, curling at his side with her head on his arm.

"Why can you not sleep?"

Dulcet tones soft. She looked down at her tattooed hands as they curled in that blanket.

The Doll Maker was wrong.

It was the first moment she felt like she belonged to one that was not wolf....that she was one of them...He felt like home.

Traithgren Blackhawk

Date: 2009-04-16 22:04 EST
Cold, silent, seemingly lifeless, the Barbarian made no move to show that he had heard her question, or even knew that she was there. But that moment quickly passed and the Barbarian turned his earthen toned eyes toward her.

That tree trunk arm lifted up, shifting to curl around the small woman. He was silent for many moments, even after moving into the simple one armed embrace, as if thinking the question over a great deal, his face was a troubled masque of confusion and frustration.

"Dreams," he answered at last, at least, he thought they were just dreams.

"Nae know fer sure, be dreamin", but nae seem bad, then I wake up," a shrug of massive shoulders. "Nae know iffin" there's dreams that "r" bad "n" between the good ones, nae remember, blank patches, emt"y.?

Brow's knitted together as his mind struggled to recall the blank images that were placed in between dreams, memories actually. Nothing was clear, vague and distorted images, feelings, sounds, but he didn't need definition to know what they were.

They too, were the Barbarian's memories, the scars than ran deeper than any on his massive muscled body, one's that cut through his heart, mind, and soul, doing damage within, and without, the Barbarian's consciousness, mental state, and health.

Annike Jakobsson

Date: 2009-04-17 06:44 EST
"Sometimes...it's good to remember, sometimes not so much."

A smile touched her lips as she murmured those soft words, tucking into that one armed embrace as she drew her own knees to her chest. With a curse broken she couldn't help but feel like her body had advanced before her mind had broken from the theory of being Doll.

There was much of her that still touched upon the awareness that maybe she should still be, act, move, and exist as the Marionette. It was hard to break that belief at times.

"You should try to sleep though."

A worried inclination touched and flexed the tone of words. The days prior had been exhausting both emotionally and mentally. Ghost of a smile and she drew those fur forged blankets around her form again.

The heat of the fire would warm her flesh, playing a luminous pattern across porcelain hued skin and those intricate tattoos as she laid down beside him. Back warmed by the presence of him ever to guard and watch over her. A protector.

So long she'd been the one protecting everyone of her kind. The Dolls, the Wolves. It made her question her ability as Alpha. It didn't matter tonight in those late kindled hours.

A hand moved sought out his own. Curling gesture with an offering tug to lay beside. Warmth of embrace and companionship perhaps for once would ill dispell the taint of harshly marked dreams and memories and promise something more comforting. Sleep.

Desiree de Laurier

Date: 2009-04-17 08:04 EST
And so she arrived, the girl trying so hard to find where she belonged. She teetered between childhood and adulthood. So unsure of herself for what she was. She was outwardly so strong and inwardly cringing at the thought of losing more.

Always in the back of her mind was the mother she never knew. She had her family but rarely did they act as a pack. Her wolf felt that one keenly. Add to the the very split in her family, one half trying to heal and protect the girls, the other half hunting. She couldn't escape the ever present fear.

Then there had been the unexplained disappearances of Lincoln and Nathan. That hurt her deep to her heart. It told her not to let her heart get involved with anyone. She couldn't trust people not to leave her, even family.

Yet, here she was at the camp, feeling little more than a child looking for a place to call home. She stood and watched, careful not to interrupt. Interruptions often ended with a backhand.

Annike Jakobsson

Date: 2009-04-20 20:35 EST
A quiet time with the gentle sound of breathing, the rhythmic sound of a heart beat. One had become two so close in pattern and rhythm that it was deceiving easy to think it was a solitaire heart that thrummed out a beating pattern for the lifeblood symphony. The drowsy contentment of it made her senses seem almost drugged, clouded. Something tugging and pulling in the corner of her senses an awareness that she could not pinpoint, so unwilling she was to break from that sedative slumber.

Breathless groan of frustration for sleep patterns being interrupted once more, those haunted blues were revealed as the pale spider limbs of lashes peeled apart. Still so dark, the prior events of the evening seemed all a strange dream. A figment of her imagination that she had wove to enchant herself again with troubles and trials.

The wil-o-wisp of her frame moved only to realize that she was trapped, ensnared. There was momentary alarm and the sense of panic that shattered that fog of peace and contentment. A breath exhaled soundless with a stifle of a nervous chuckle as she realized she was not imprisoned but rather claimed in protective hold of the barbarian himself.

It was not rocks or wall that her back had found but the strong and fortified landscape of Traithgren. There was a temptation to fall back into that embrace, be lured into slumber. Even her subtle motions seemed to bring disapproval from the barbarian in his own peaceful slumber. Perhaps this was the first time in months that either one of them had managed peaceful rest without haunting dreams and torments of the past. A gentle smile touched her lips as he seemed to nuzzle at her hair and draw her closer in that embrace. It seemed so strange how one might lose their shields when it came to sleep. There rarely seemed strife or uncertainty when it came to those gentle hours of peaceful sleep.

A reluctant sigh escaped her as she breathed his name, fingertips curling against his arm. Something had alerted her.

It was a touch of brown on blue, earth to meet sky, that smile went warm on the Dancer's lips. Near tender was that smile to him even as his arm seemed to give way enough for her to crawl out of the blankets and furs. Wobbly as a colt that just had found its legs she moved and stumbled to the edge of cavern mouth, peering in the shadows as her senses adjusted from that haze of deep sleep.

Tattooed fingers smoothed through Goldilocks curls as she noted the uncertain presence of pack sister.

"I'm glad you could make it?" Honesty and warmth in voice as a lean was taken against that nature made wall as her arms embraced her own waist, gaze lifting to the telltale moon and the judging wane of the late night hours.

Desiree de Laurier

Date: 2009-04-21 20:30 EST
She took a few steps in. Trust...

She could trust Annike. She knew that one deep within her heart. It is why she vouched for her to her brother.

Still she was so lonely at times, even hiding in her books did nothing to ease her confusions.

"(vq) Sorry to disturb."

Traithgren Blackhawk

Date: 2009-04-22 20:34 EST
The Barbarian grunted in protest, but didn't seem to stir anymore than that. A large form, he was, chest slowly rising and falling, like the waves of a great sea. Then, the moment she'd stood and headed to Desiree, the Barbarian was up, eyes snapped open, then fell to a groggy, half lidded state.

With a chest heaving sigh, more out of the simple fact that he was getting up, the Barbarian grudgingly pushed himself from his laying position, blinking a few times as he watched Annike trail off toward Desi.

With a second grunt, Traith pushed up, rising to his feet, loincloth the only thing covering anything, and headed on over with great lumbering strides. He was soon standing behind Annike, towering over the two, a large and dark silhouette against the night sky.

"Nae disturbin"," he assured Desi, as he had arrived just when she spoke.

"Glad y"found yer way "ere,? he added, then turned his earthen gaze down to Annike.

Annike Jakobsson

Date: 2009-04-23 06:26 EST
A warm smile touched at her lips, not so much ghosted with uncertainty. Hand pushed through the crumpled mess of Goldilocks curls as she smiled sheepishly at her slumber awakened state.

Shaking her head silently she looked to Desi as she disagreed with the comment of disturbing. They all were friends. There was surely no way that the young wolf could be viewed as a disturbance.

"No you're fine. You were welcome here before as you are welcome now."

Dulcet tones were thick as she was still in the light lull of drowsy grace. An idle peer out into the forest. It was still an hour where sleep was welcomed in Annike's opinion. She hadn't slept in days after all.

"Come then....get yourself situated and we can all go back to some much needed rest and relaxation."

Giddy with the notion of sleep and warmth promised in her future, light grin was flicked upwards to the barbarian with blue eyes to touch on earth brown eyes once more. Smile dimpled and she was tugging Desiree into the depths of the cavern.

The woman was welcome to get situated even as the Dancer once more was a boneless graceful puddle of limbs before the fire, tucked away in the warm comfort of those furs.

It was a good change this idea of returning to the woods.

Traithgren Blackhawk

Date: 2009-04-26 04:06 EST
The towering Barbarian turned with them, his hulking frame sticking close to Annike's as he followed, like a protective wall of muscle, shielding her from the world.

The promise of sleep was an eagerly awaited thing for Traith, tired and reluctant to wake as he was. The boneless and graceful puddle that was the Dancer was accompanied by the hard muscle and warm skin of the Barbarian as he situated himself near her, not yet laying down to sleep.

As much as he longed for sleep, needed and wanted it, the Barbarian's dreams, memories, and nightmares haunted him still. The always scowling face left no clues regarding his internal dilemma, and few things would, for his pause lasted for only a moment.

Soon, Traithgren as laying back down, hoping, praying, wishing, and demanding, an easy rest.