Malady, Murmur, and Mourn
May 18, 2019 16:35:38 GMT -8
Post by Meds on May 18, 2019 16:35:38 GMT -8
Murmur;
Lanky legs bent and straightened in turn, as Murmur picked his way through the dry summer grass. The evening was quiet, without so much as a breeze to unsettle it. The sun was well into its decent, but there was still plenty of light in the sky. Murmur's purple eyes swept on before him, picking the best route through the underbrush so as to keep the silence complete. He wasn't hunting--prey or otherwise--he was simply enjoying the solitude.
Murmur had been called a good many things in his life, harsh and true enough, but rarely had he been called pensive or thoughtful. Though he could sometimes come across as quiet, he was often quite content to prattle away about anything that came into his mind.
The silhouette that the large green and black male cast against the slowly darkening sky was unsettling. Thin and tall, hunched and slightly leering. It wasn't exactly the sort of shadow one might see in a nightmare; rather, it was the sort of shadow that one sees lurking in the corner of their eye, only to turn in fear and discover there was nothing there at all... or so it would seem.
Murmur's tongue flicked out and danced against his tusks. He had stopped cutting his lips and tongue on them quite so often, now. They felt more natural, by then. More familiar. They didn't make him proud or anything; though perhaps they should have, since they were gifts from the gods. Instead, they simply felt like they were meant to have been there all along. Most days, Murmur forgot they had even grown. He gave a rattling sigh and continued on his silent march.
Sometime later, a crack sounded that shattered the stillness. Without missing a step, Murmur's long neck swiveled behind him, purple eyes shivering as he peered through the now-shadowed grasses. It was rare that he was caught by surprise.
"What little beasty lurks in the shadows this evening?" He didn't slow his pace, but he turned in a wide half circle, eventually stopping facing the opposite direction that he had been previously. "Sneaking up on poor Murmur?"
Instead of a reply, the sneak moved forward, out of the grasses and into the dying light. It was a female, smaller and shorter than Murmur, but of the same general stature. She was mostly white, highlighted with sharp blues and browns that crisscrossed over her fur. Murmur's purple eyes widened and he actually faltered backwards a few steps. The female fixed him with a golden stare of her own.
"Malady." Murmur's soft voice did not pose the word as a question. The female nodded in answer.
"Murmur." Her voice was weak. Quiet. Unsure. She hesitated for a moment, but finally took a careful seat. Murmur was quite aware that she kept her eyes on him firmly. Her gaze faltered on his tusks for a moment, but eventually found his eyes again. "You've changed a little bit..." Still with the shy little voice. But Murmur knew her better than that. She could play the beaten-down victim all she wanted. He knew what she was capable of, and he knew that she knew, as well. When she seemed to realize she was fooling no one, her voice gained a bit more strength. "Quite the place, here."
"How." Again, it was not a question. Murmur intended to find out just how she had found him, after so long. Curse the formalities. Malady shrugged lightly in response to his words, giving a breath of a smile that held no warmth, but banished any belief that she was helpless and frightened.
"Call it a sister's intuition."
Murmur's face remained blank; at least, as much of a blank as there could be with his wide and near-constant smile. Just what exactly did she expect of him? Had she searched for him--or was it an unlikely coincidence? Murmur supposed that Blisswood was the safest area for miles around, as far as he had found anyway. It was less so, now that the dragons and equines had come in, but it was still better than most, for wolves. Perhaps she had come searching for haven?
But that could mean--
Murmur's head snapped back up, searching Malady's face.
"What of him?" His sister didn't hesitate before she replied.
"Surely not far behind." Just as he had guessed. Malady's voice spoke of muted regret and, unless he was mistaken, a hint of real fear. He couldn't exactly blame her...
His surprise was fading slightly by then, though, so the rigidity of the interaction would soon be behind them. He could feel his usual confidence (or whatever it was that caused him to do and think as he did) and strange bravado slinking back into his veins by the second.
"Did he follow you, or did you bring him?" Murmur's voice teetered back to its usual place, somewhere between an intimate hum and a hoarse moan. Malady flinched slightly at his words, another glimpse of something real, finally dropping her gaze from him. She was beginning to feel more comfortable in the moment, too, he could tell; that is, as comfortable as either of them ever were in each other's presence.
"Is one so different from the other?"
Murmur paused, considering things. Night was nearing, and if Mourn was as close behind as Malady claimed, they would do best to make themselves scarce until morning.
"No juicy little whelps following behind, are there?" Murmur whispered, leaning to the side and glancing back into the grass, searching for young ones. Malady's eyes darkened.
"No, Murmur."
"Then let's be off, and prepare for our brother to complete this little family reunion."
--Time jump--
Lanky legs bent and straightened in turn, as Murmur picked his way through the dry summer grass. The evening was quiet, without so much as a breeze to unsettle it. The sun was well into its decent, but there was still plenty of light in the sky. Murmur's purple eyes swept on before him, picking the best route through the underbrush so as to keep the silence complete. He wasn't hunting--prey or otherwise--he was simply enjoying the solitude.
Murmur had been called a good many things in his life, harsh and true enough, but rarely had he been called pensive or thoughtful. Though he could sometimes come across as quiet, he was often quite content to prattle away about anything that came into his mind.
The silhouette that the large green and black male cast against the slowly darkening sky was unsettling. Thin and tall, hunched and slightly leering. It wasn't exactly the sort of shadow one might see in a nightmare; rather, it was the sort of shadow that one sees lurking in the corner of their eye, only to turn in fear and discover there was nothing there at all... or so it would seem.
Murmur's tongue flicked out and danced against his tusks. He had stopped cutting his lips and tongue on them quite so often, now. They felt more natural, by then. More familiar. They didn't make him proud or anything; though perhaps they should have, since they were gifts from the gods. Instead, they simply felt like they were meant to have been there all along. Most days, Murmur forgot they had even grown. He gave a rattling sigh and continued on his silent march.
Sometime later, a crack sounded that shattered the stillness. Without missing a step, Murmur's long neck swiveled behind him, purple eyes shivering as he peered through the now-shadowed grasses. It was rare that he was caught by surprise.
"What little beasty lurks in the shadows this evening?" He didn't slow his pace, but he turned in a wide half circle, eventually stopping facing the opposite direction that he had been previously. "Sneaking up on poor Murmur?"
Instead of a reply, the sneak moved forward, out of the grasses and into the dying light. It was a female, smaller and shorter than Murmur, but of the same general stature. She was mostly white, highlighted with sharp blues and browns that crisscrossed over her fur. Murmur's purple eyes widened and he actually faltered backwards a few steps. The female fixed him with a golden stare of her own.
"Malady." Murmur's soft voice did not pose the word as a question. The female nodded in answer.
"Murmur." Her voice was weak. Quiet. Unsure. She hesitated for a moment, but finally took a careful seat. Murmur was quite aware that she kept her eyes on him firmly. Her gaze faltered on his tusks for a moment, but eventually found his eyes again. "You've changed a little bit..." Still with the shy little voice. But Murmur knew her better than that. She could play the beaten-down victim all she wanted. He knew what she was capable of, and he knew that she knew, as well. When she seemed to realize she was fooling no one, her voice gained a bit more strength. "Quite the place, here."
"How." Again, it was not a question. Murmur intended to find out just how she had found him, after so long. Curse the formalities. Malady shrugged lightly in response to his words, giving a breath of a smile that held no warmth, but banished any belief that she was helpless and frightened.
"Call it a sister's intuition."
Murmur's face remained blank; at least, as much of a blank as there could be with his wide and near-constant smile. Just what exactly did she expect of him? Had she searched for him--or was it an unlikely coincidence? Murmur supposed that Blisswood was the safest area for miles around, as far as he had found anyway. It was less so, now that the dragons and equines had come in, but it was still better than most, for wolves. Perhaps she had come searching for haven?
But that could mean--
Murmur's head snapped back up, searching Malady's face.
"What of him?" His sister didn't hesitate before she replied.
"Surely not far behind." Just as he had guessed. Malady's voice spoke of muted regret and, unless he was mistaken, a hint of real fear. He couldn't exactly blame her...
His surprise was fading slightly by then, though, so the rigidity of the interaction would soon be behind them. He could feel his usual confidence (or whatever it was that caused him to do and think as he did) and strange bravado slinking back into his veins by the second.
"Did he follow you, or did you bring him?" Murmur's voice teetered back to its usual place, somewhere between an intimate hum and a hoarse moan. Malady flinched slightly at his words, another glimpse of something real, finally dropping her gaze from him. She was beginning to feel more comfortable in the moment, too, he could tell; that is, as comfortable as either of them ever were in each other's presence.
"Is one so different from the other?"
Murmur paused, considering things. Night was nearing, and if Mourn was as close behind as Malady claimed, they would do best to make themselves scarce until morning.
"No juicy little whelps following behind, are there?" Murmur whispered, leaning to the side and glancing back into the grass, searching for young ones. Malady's eyes darkened.
"No, Murmur."
"Then let's be off, and prepare for our brother to complete this little family reunion."
--Time jump--