REACH INTO YOUR LOCAL BOG // joiner

[Grimm]

Beneath the tightly woven mass of vegetation crowning towering trees minimal the glimpses he caught of open sky, a mosaic of gentle oranges and pinks, edges tinged in fading purple. Bright had been it when covering had reduced the illumination to flickering specks among dense shade, even the pale blue obscured by wisp of cloud, time supposedly quickened without knowledge. Gentle the hum that graced lips pressed into a hard line, singular ear flicking as attention turned, other weighed down by bone carved adornment. Familiar it, a comfort as was the lines painted along shallow cheeks, adorned forehead and about eyes, smooth and sharp each, worn beneath travel.

His culture. His home, that left in wake that grew even as it faded. Accustomed was Khajhad to travel, the land traversed as migratory prey followed the unpredictable patterns seasons wrought against the land in search of sustained sources of nutrients and water. To the whims of weather were they subject, the prodding passage of those departing beasts the ones following behind, a natural cycle he had been raised within and grew comfort with.

Similar this, if roles felt odd, fit strangely against thoughts that bore a need for a framework he may understand . No labouring prey was he following alongside his tribe, blood his own he trailed as the lunar cycle since her departure concluded. He knew little of the delicate tug that called to wayward soul, pulled from them though never Cipactli, ever prying those eyes settled on those beneath savage protection. Reasoning his own for journey that saw him traverse aerial roots, the sodden soil mistrusted for his unfamiliarity with such terrain, peered at each trunk. Against dark bark carved lines, age apparent in how sap had dried at the edges, discarded from thought as another was located.

Momentum halting, smooth the transition, stance shifting until pale fur adorning stomach near grazed the earth. Heady once the rich scents rampant beneath canopy, indistinguishable each until time allowed him clarity, among the damp located a trail, faded but apparent the winding course it took. After did he follow, supposedly in full attention focused upon task at hand yet ears moved in slow swivel, guided by nose that flared with each deep breath, vision skirting low lying growth that clustered about. Stranger within lands forgein to him, expected anything and thus guise the intensity of his focus, a meagre scrap of a meal worthless if it lead only to harm and negated the good it may bring.

[table][tr][td]

[/td][td]

the ebb and flow, the smaller things, the flight of the crow; is life and death still all that we know? we all come and we all fade away, nightmares and dreams, the call of the fray; this night will soon be turned to day

[/td][/tr][/table]

code by Wisker

[rhosmari]

AND IT'S HALF PAST THREE
[align=center]AND I GOT ANGEL WINGS

BUT A DEVIL'S GRIN

AND ONLY ONE CAN WIN

elsweyr — tanglewood — three years

Here she never thought her family to come after her. Not on this journey to find herself, to find what it meant to be Elsweyr. She thought all of them content, following those that sustained their life and kept them in balance. They were happy with this and she was happy for them. That life she knew she certainly would miss as she had grown up their. Many fond memories of playing as a child, roughhousing and chasing her first prey down. Showing her skills, falling asleep to the voice of their most knowledgeable on herbs and plant life. That was the life she had known but now here she was learning so much more. There was more than just following the herds, replenishing the land and fighting off other tribes that wished to take what they had. Here she stood, her tail held high as rounded ears pulled forward. Guided by something to come closer, to smell something familiar. Her eyes slowly widened when recognition hit and her paws easily splashed through shallow murky water.

She couldn't believe her own eyes as she saw him. His white splattered figure standing there, proud, strong. Her brother. A warrior did not cry but she allowed a soft chirp to leave her throat. A welcoming, a miss you. Her tail swayed gently back and forth as she approached. She did not wear her crocodile skull but her body was plastered with yellow and white paints. "Kha, he has found her. But why has he traveled so far? Things should be okay with our home, no?" Without much thought she aimed to press her head against his own in a natural way of greet family before she stepped back to look him over. Memories flooding over her before she shook her head, beads clicking gently. "She has missed him. Oh! This place is Tanglewood but bad times are here."

[Grimm]

Off guard.

To allow oneself to be placed within a situation permitting such foolhardy, momentary hesitation enough to render life prematurely concluded. He bore no mind that may weave the complex threads of battle into neat order, understanding of beasts that acted as suitable sustenance all he deemed a necessity, and thus unawares was he caught. Of two minds one may not deem Khajhad, abandoned the rigorous inspection of forgein land, the strengthening trail of a forest dwelling creature beckoning him forth.

Fault his own, even as desire to shift it upon intrusive presence announced in trilling call, balls of paws accepting weight to permit preparation. Registration of the sound, the meaning behind, came only when she entered his vision, answering call unbidden, fading with a fragile smile taking hold. Familiar her presence, arising through shifting thought the days well past when children had they both deem, miniscule things of fluffed up coats. The image she cut unlike that, though it too held a place in memory, her departure met with only good humour, pleased for what her journey may bring her.

Faux grew his smile as her voice arose, shortened form of his name sweet on tongue he had not heard in over a lunar cycle. Bound to honour was he, even as his own views of Cipactli and the religion the crocodilian deity was central to acted small part in his life, expectation to act in accordance to prior teachings. Selfish at core his wandering, though if he sought Elsweyr or acting on a hope doubt may dim he may not say, with her before dumb his tongue on the matter.

"Our home is well," quiet the rasp he spoke within, weathered the once high pitch of youth yet still apparent an edge of such. Further explanation stalled as her touch was lended into, a brief contact he was accustomed to and acted upon with mere impulse, her departure and subsequent once over mimicked. "He missed her, he did not expect to find her." Lie burned his tongue even as he voiced it, thoughts disjointed as he pondered over this development, in particular her mention of the position this Tanglewood was within.

"She is fond of Tanglewood." No need to pose query of such, and thus forgone it for statement Khajhad may deem true simply by how she lingered, apparent how she lacked all but the tang of the swamp. Her talk of bad times ignited some interest, fleeting as it was, of no issue the predicament this place was currently within to one such as he, an outsider with a tentative connection only through Elsweyr.

[table][tr][td]

[/td][td]

the ebb and flow, the smaller things, the flight of the crow; is life and death still all that we know? we all come and we all fade away, nightmares and dreams, the call of the fray; this night will soon be turned to day

[/td][/tr][/table]

code by Wisker

[rhosmari]

AND IT'S HALF PAST THREE
[align=center]AND I GOT ANGEL WINGS

BUT A DEVIL'S GRIN

AND ONLY ONE CAN WIN

elsweyr — tanglewood — three years

The fact that everything was okay allowed her to relax just a little bit more. Her home was still safe, her tribe still safe. Mother and father living and doing what they could to continue on. Her other sibling learning and continuing to grow. Cipactli be praised that nothing bad had descended upon them. The smile that formed on her muzzle then was genuine and true as she watched her brother. She wondered what their other sibling was doing right now though, her eyes slowly moving away from Khajhad and to the swamp and tangled growth before she dipped her head. Thoughts clouded and unsure. "She is happy that everything is okay. And she missed him as well. She wished things were a bit different but...she is needed here." Though she did wonder what he did expect to find out here if it was not her. What prompt him to leave home? Though she did not wish to pry that much, holding back her concern.

His statement brought her gazs back to him and she gave a light nod of her head. "She is. Tanglewood is different. Does not move around like the tribe does. They live here, have strange ranks. The fish are strange. Just everything is strange." The smokey colored cheetah said the word over and over as if it would say what she felt. Strange was the only why she was able to describe it and if he stayed then maybe he would understand. Her eyes lit up and realized she had not even asked him this. Tentatively she took a small step forward, eyes wide and open to her brother. "Is he staying with her?"

[wormwood.]

NOTHING BESIDE REMAINS — Aurum knew a thing or two about family, but his connection with his blood family had been one fought with trials and tribulations. He and Poet had gotten along well enough when they were cubs, but as they had grown and Aurum had grown used to his mother and father's constant bickering and abuse – whether direct or indirect – he had also grown resentful. He regretted the chain of events that had led to him trying to kill Poet, and he was glad that their bond had changed for the better afterwards, but that didn't last. He had lost his brother seemingly over and over again, constantly following the other's footsteps until eventually the path as a whole had just disappeared. As of right now, the angel had no idea where his brother had gone, or whether the other was even alive to be found. Needless to say, Aurum's relationship with his adopted sister, Moth, had always been far healthier, and easier to manage. He knew that she was angry at him now, for allowing Atticus to try and sneak out, but he also knew that they would eventually be able to make up. They had never gone through a fight so bad that it had broken their bond forever, and he hoped that they never did.

So, in a way, the former proxy could understand the connection between Khajhad and Elsweyr. However, in another way, he simply couldn't. He had been through too much, to consider family just a simple thing – although he did consider family to be a cherished thing, even after everything. That wasn't the first thing that was on Aurum's mind as he approached, though. Instead, he was just curious as to who Khajhad was, and why Elsweyr was speaking to him with such warmth in her voice. Obviously she knew him, but that didn't mean that the lion was completely relaxed. With everything going on within Tanglewood at the moment, anyone was game to be a foe, even if they tried to talk their way in with a false smile and a silver tongue. So, as he made his way over, Aurum cleared his throat, tail flicking high behind him as he came to settle beside Elsweyr. Looking between them, the angel found himself questioning, "Elsweyr? Who is this? He doesn't seem to be a stranger..." Khajhad being a cheetah might have tipped Aurum off to their relationship as siblings, but that wasn't a guarantee. Elsweyr had presumably come from a whole tribe of cheetahs, so the other could've easily been a friend, or even a mate. — OF THE MAN WHO WAS BORN AND DIED A KING.