Post by kitsune ! on Oct 8, 2011 7:32:50 GMT -5
C R O W
XII
The river is moving.
The blackbird must be flying.
-- Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird, Wallace Stevens
XII
The river is moving.
The blackbird must be flying.
-- Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird, Wallace Stevens
n a m e
Crow
g e n d e r
Male
a g e
Thirteen years
b i r t h ◊ s e a s o n [/b][/color]
Winter
b r e e d
Aleyabruj
a p p e a r a n c e
A large, hale specimen of the Aleyabruj breed, Crow is nearly five feet at the shoulder, with a muscular build that would make him a formidable adversary in a physical competition. His fur is predominantly dark grey that's nearly black, a shade reminiscent of light shadows late in the lazy afternoon. His belly, chest, and lowers paws are deeper shades of gray, though his age has started to manifest itself in a sparse sprinkling of grey and white hairs on the underside of his tail, his paws, his muzzle, and around his eyes, which are a pale, clear mix of amber and brown. While all of his fur is coarse and shaggy, the fur at his chest, neck, and shoulders is thicker and slightly curly. There are darker curls of grey-green, like a mess of Spanish moss, in the fur at his chest and neck. Like any other wolf, he has his collection of scars and marks, but none in particular stand out.
If you spend enough time with Crow and observe him carefully, you may notice oddities about him: his shadow may move of its own accord, tilting its head to the side when he's perfectly still, or twitch its paws before he starts to run. You may also notice that a vividly-colored spider, a yellow and black orb-weaver, seems to be nesting in his fur; if you draw attention to this bizarre parasite, he may not respond, or may refer to it as 'Anasazi.'
p e r s o n a l i t y
The most obvious trait in his personality - or at least, the one most likely to be demonstrated at any point in time - is his easygoing nature. He's relaxed almost to a fault, unruffled and unaffected by the mods of those around him - he'll attempt to comfort or soothe them, certainly, but he'll remain as calm and mellow as he would in a more lax situation. This has worked to his disadvantage in the past - he may not react with appropriate urgency, or in an emotionally-charged situation he'll often come off as aloof or apathetic. Then again, if possible, he avoids those stressful situations; genial and non-confrontational, he won't clash with others over differences in opinion or unimportant details. This could be interpreted as natural submissiveness - you won't find him clashing with an overaggressive alpha or battling for rank - but it's more of a 'pick-your-own-battles' sort of attitude.
Crow has never lasted in a traditional pack hierarchy for very long - he may be non confrontational, but he doesn't appreciate being treated like a piece of carrion, and though it's a more dangerous lifestyle he enjoys the degree of freedom a loner's life affords. While he is sociable if someone approaches him, Crow rarely seeks out the company of unfamiliar wolves simply for their company. This tendency (that could be perceived as anti-social) often interferes with his ability to maintain relationships; in three years he's never once felt inclined to visit his offspring just to "see how they're doing."
One might see the aleyabruj as impractical or foolish despite his calm demeanor, as he's inclined to follow whims of the spirit over wills of the mind or even needs of the flesh. His Essence and his shadow exert a great deal of influence over his actions. If he becomes disenchanted with one location, he'll travel to another with no more guidance than "Anasazi suggested it." And, if there's no hostile packs in the area, he may stay there for quite some time.
He's easily infatuated; at least, he's much more likely to see someone's good traits over their negative ones, and will admire that collection of traits from afar. Crow may admire someone for a period of time, but he'll not act on those urges, and eventually attraction will fade to platonic affection.
h i s t o r y
Crow was the youngest in a litter of two male pups born in early winter. While they were born at the border of the Aokigahara and the Little Ao, his mother was in fact a member of a roaming band of aleyabruj that usually called the Orchid Bog home. This tiny 'pack' consisted of his father's parents, siblings, and their mates and pups. The first winter of his life was fortunately a mild one - he and his brother, as well as a few cousins that had been born late in the autumn - all survived and subsequently thrived in the spring. His brother, Hyacinth, early on demonstrated an aptitude for nature magic, something that earned their mother's doting affection but stirred no jealousy or bitterness in Crow. What did he care if his brother could grow pretty flowers? He had a spirit, a familiar named Anasazi nestled in his fur (though his kin regarded 'Ana' as a sort of imaginary friend) who told the most fantastic stories, and even from an early age he sensed that his shadow yearned to speak. So what if he demonstrated no particular abilities? He would never be alone, and that was better than a few pretty flowers that would wilt in a season's time.
By the time he was two years old, Crow had tired of the constraints of this life; they tread the same paths year after year when Crow knew there were a thousand territories beyond Ravennook, and after a skirmish with a non-aleyabruj he became aware of the xenophobia that formed a massive part of the pack's identity. It was dull. He made an unceremonious exit out stage left.
While traveling through the Aokigahara Forest, Crow encountered an older wolf, a timber wolf, one his elder but not elderly. She invited him to spend a few days in the Forest with her. He consented after Anasazi drew attention to the fact that the female's shadow moved independently. After a few uneasy days, Vale (as she was called) had warmed up to Crow enough to tutor him in Aether magic. It wasn't a common magic, and most with it never polished or developed their abilities. Crow was hesitant - he was wary of anyone who enjoyed spending time in the Aokigahara, which had always made him feel uneasy and vulnerable - but Anasazi insisted, and he was inclined to obey.
He stayed a few years in the Ao with her. She was knowledgeable; she taught him how to manipulate light or quench it completely, how to blind opponents or temporarily cloak himself, how to split his paws from his shadow's and listen to her occasional whispered musings. Vale herself was a shadow-walker, an ability that Crow lacked, and she had a particular fascination with spirits still anchored to the earth they had once loved. That was where the ideologies of Crow and his mentor diverged - she felt that an aether should use their subtle magic to communicate with spirits and perhaps bend them to their will, if possible, whereas Crow would rather have nothing to do with them. As his abilities grew - and he more frequently caught glimpses of the wraiths tangled in the trees - he became more and more unsettled by the Ao, and finally he set to wandering again.
He was inspired (in part by harassment from packs) to visit the Mercy Lands; he'd heard them mentioned often by other loners, and not always favorably, but curiosity outweighed hesitance. As an aleyabruj, he was comfortable withs logging through the water, and so he spent more time along the shore chasing water voles or deer than he did shivering in the mist-rimmed (and aptly named) Desolation Moor. Despite Anasazi's protests, he also enjoyed swimming, and he shouldered the local amphitrites' taunts ("That big clumsy creature thinks he's a seal!") good-naturedly. They may have primarily regarded him as a fool, but he found himself fascinated by the amphitrites; he'd heard of them but had never seen one for himself, and now here was an entire pack (Pod? School?) for him to study surreptitiously.
One amphitrite in particular interested him - a female named Capricorn from foreign waters downstream. She and her sister, Libra, had arrived that winter and integrated into the local pod. Whereas most of the local amphitrites had cerulean coloring to camouflage themselves from prey and hostile opponents, Capricorn was black as pitch and entirely exotic, a shadow gliding through the water. Most of the amphibious wolves kept their distance when Crow was floundering through the water, but Capricorn would splash and swirl in the waters just ahead, alternating between taunts and flirtatious c comments, occasionally answering the questions he had regarding aspects of amphitrite life.
He was infatuated with her. She returned his affections. Wasn't that how all the great love sagas began?
A romantic relationship tottered unsteadily at the beginning under Libra's disapproving glare and the tittering of the pod, but like a pebble sliding down a mountainside, it picked up momentum. He would tempt and cajole until she would join him on land, in the Ghost Shack or once as far inland as Charity Meadows, to introduce her to the land bound loners he almost considered family. (She was gracious enough to his curious companions, but he sensed thinly-veiled scorn behind her graceful exchanges.) She, in turn, would test his endurance by encouraging him to swim farther and deeper into the lake. He spent nearly a month in Larissa's Grotto with her. She was incredibly passionate, and her moods were mercurial, as capricious as her name.
Sometimes - more often than Crow would have liked to admit - passion curdled to bitterness and violence. She'd sulk, scream obscenities if he approached, disappear for days on end before surfacing with a sheepish, apologetic smirk. Aggression and romance went hand in hand.
Capricorn had a penchant for illusions; though she'd never, not even when she was in a mood, tried to mislead him, sometimes in the evenings she would put on a shadow-play by witchlight for their amusement. One early autumn evening featured the adventures of a beautiful, clever amphitrite and the handsome ogre-wolf who was her mate. Their adventures ranged between land and ocean and a strange mire that wasn't entirely either. The shadow-play ended abruptly when the amphitrite gave birth, a thousand writhing shreds of furious life that dissipated back into shapeless shadow.
Crow was both stunned and pleased by this revelation. By the end of the shadow-play, Capricorn was weeping.
He saw her only intermittently through the rest of the autumn; she refused to leave the water or come into the shallows, and he was more likely to deal with a smug Libra than a moody and pregnant Capricorn. He would bring her dried wheats stalk to protect the unborn pups from defects; later Libra would tell him that Capricorn had eaten so much oleander that she'd nearly been sick from it. It was as if the amphitrite was trying to do away with the pinpricks of life they had created together; sometimes Crow suspected that was exactly her intention.
The pups were born later in the autumn, when the leaves still clinging to the hibernating trees were dull and crinkled, their comrades sloughed off to mildew in moist heaps. A young amphitrite in the pod, one who didn't mind navigating the rocky stretch to Charity Meadows, was sent to fetch Crow. Capricorn had fortunately chosen to give birth in shallow waters. When Crow arrived, the birth was over and Capricorn and their pups were sleeping on the bank, protected by an overhanging tangle of thirsty roots. It had been a difficult birth, Libra told him, one taxing on both dame and offspring. Capricorn had been plagued by illusory demons and pains that she hadn't been able to control. Two of four pups, two aleyabruj males, had been stillborn. At the time Crow had accepted this explanation, but in retrospect he wondered if, exhausted and tormented, Capricorn had been unable to recognize the strange land pups as her own and had drowned them.
The fates of the two aleyabruj pups seemed unimportant when juxtaposed with the fact that two pups were alive. Libra had, after some hesitation, allowed Crow to see his pups. They were sleeping, and though Libra said they were larger than most amphitrite pups they still seemed impossibly tiny to their father: a murky green, short-furred female named Cancer and a scaled, almost translucent blue male named Virgo. They were infinitely precious.
Libra mentioned that the amphitrite pod were migrating to the southern shore for winter. He shouldn't follow. Wait until spring and they would be back, and he could be reunited with his mate and progeny.
He agreed. Winter would be difficult enough without trying to navigate an alien shore made treacherous by snowdrifts and other hazards. (Occasionally the shadow traveled across the lake for him, only reporting that the pups were still alive.)
When spring had settled into the territories, he waited patiently by the shores of the lake, scanning the water for any glimpse of an inky female. Instead, Libra eventually approached him: yes, his pups were fine. Yes, Capricorn was probably fine - she'd left once the pups were weaned, had gone back south. No, she hadn't said if she was returning. No, she hadn't left a message for him.
He stayed for a few days, watched and interacted with his pups. Virgo knew how to throw his weight around; he was vain and mischievous compared to somber, shy Cancer. They were fine pups. Cancer seemed to be very proficient in water magic for her young age, but Virgo didn't demonstrate any particular abilities. He was proud but superfluous. Libra didn't want him around. He was restless. He set off for a new area of the territory without hesitation or regret.
The years passed interminably, without distinction between one summer and the next. There were fires in this territory, so you had to avoid it; a devastating earthquake imperiled another. A loner's life wasn't always easy, but it was what he, his Essence, and his unnamed Shadow enjoyed. If he heard anything about his pups that did not amicably agree with the ones he remembered, it was mentally discarded.
He continued to wander. That's how all the sagas go, isn't it?
i t e m s
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