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Post by Hiraeth on Jun 12, 2018 11:38:54 GMT
Sturdy paws drummed against damp loam, throwing up specks of dirt which freckled the wolf’s honey-brown coat. Hiraeth was running hard – and it wasn’t for the love of speed or for the training of his muscles. No, someone hadn’t taken too kindly to a dalliance with a sister. Multiple someones had objected, actually, and they were built far more powerfully than Hiraeth. Though he had tried to calm the situation with what he thought was considerable grace and charm, they had opted for a fight Hiraeth didn’t want. They had given chase, driving him into a deep, dark thicket.
It was the shift in sounds which first alerted Hiraeth to his new predicament – new because initially it seemed to be a mild improvement on the spot of trouble he’d been in a few moments before. The noises of pursuit cut off abruptly, leaving only silence and a thicket which surely should’ve ended several wolf’s lengths ago.
The runner swerved, causing the earth to spray up around his hind paws. He collected his limbs beneath himself and shook his head vigorously, wondering if something was blocking his hearing but he still heard nothing – no derisive cries, no threats and no paws hitting the ground in his wake.
It wasn’t the absence of the noises which most worried Hiraeth but how abruptly that absence came. All that was left for his large ears to pick up was the sigh of a breeze stifled by thick foliage – thicker and darker, in fact, than the foliage his urgent flight had carried him into.
He slowed to a walk, his amber eyes narrowing and his tail, already foxlike with its missing tip, bristling in uncertainty. One ear flicked and he drew in a cautious breath, rolling the scents over his tongue. They, too, were vastly different from the scents of the lands he’d been sprinting through a few minutes earlier.
Had Hiraeth been tricked? Driven into some never-ending forest by his pursuers; trapped? Had he been plucked from his homelands by some great eagle and set back down on another plane entirely, all without his notice?
If he was trapped it would do little good to rush around ploughing all his energy into fear. If a giant eagle had dropped him off here there had to be some reason behind its actions.
Hiraeth lowered himself into a sit, deciding he might be able to wait out this bizarre turn of events.
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Post by Lirriel on Jun 12, 2018 14:54:43 GMT
[googlefont=Roboto][googlefont=Montserrat][googlefont=Open+Sans] [attr="class","morpheus"] And another.Morpheus noted the shift with as much interest as one might afford a passing breeze. The realm of his kind was so empty. It only made sense for there to be gods, he supposed. But these creatures were mortal still, for all that the divinity in their souls had drawn them to this place. They had only to kindle it, grow it, and they would become as he had – a creature of myth, a whisper in the night sky, something spun from dreams and nightmares. But that would be later, he thought. If they survived that long. He couldn’t understand the feeling of it – only that such a sudden surge of wolves, packed tightly together, seemed as if it might spell disaster in the distant future. Territories, he thought, might have something to do with it. Mortals were so concerned with boundaries. They’d understand soon enough, as they began their ascension. It did not take him long to reach the Black Forest – the Cradle naturally led into it, a ground littered with snowdrops swiftly becoming briar-choked and crystal-lit. They lit his path, glowing faintly in the gloomy forest. He stepped slowly through the underbrush, taking care not to snag his horns on low-lying limbs of the gnarled trees that clustered close together. The density of the foliage deadened sound, and each step he took seemed almost unbearably loud. He had thought of coming as a dream, but there was something tantalizing about appearing in the flesh. Morpheus suspected it had not been a common choice for him, in the days before he lost his memories. As it was, he nosed through a final bush, shaking his head, much as a deer might, to thrust away the branches that clung to his horns. He spied the wolf in one of the few spots that was not choked with plant life, gazing speculatively around him. Better than the last one, he thought. “You are here,” he said to the other male. It was not a greeting, but Morpheus in truth found greetings troublesome. He could barely remember his previous godhood, much less how he had been as a mortal. Had he ever been mortal? It was something to contemplate at a later date. Then, because the words seemed unfinished, not fully woven, he added, “This is the Black Forest.”He didn’t know where the name came from. It was just what the land was called, as surely as he had known his name was Morpheus and that he ruled the domain of dreaming. [attr="class", "godling"] tags: Hiraethwords: 423 notes: slowly shaking the rust off lol [newclass=.morpheus]height:440px;color:#E1DFD8;opacity:.8;margin-top:470px;text-align:justify;padding:15px;width:470px;font-family:Open Sans;font-size:10px;overflow:auto;[/newclass] [newclass=.morpheus b]font-family:montserrat;font-weight:900;color:#F0F0D8;font-size:12px;[/newclass] [newclass=.morpheus i]color:#C0D860; font: 11px Roboto; font-style: italic;[/newclass] [newclass=.morpheus::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background-color: #2A2A2A; width:1px; [/newclass] [newclass=.morpheus::-webkit-scrollbar]width: 5px; height: 5px; background: #ccc; border: 3px solid #f0f0f0;[/newclass] [newclass=.morpheus::-webkit-scrollbar-corner]background: #ccc; border: 2px solid #ccc;[/newclass] [googlefont=Open+Sans] |
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Post by Hiraeth on Jun 12, 2018 20:11:06 GMT
The foliage rustled seemingly on every side. Firelit eyes scoured it with care and caution for some sign that he’d been followed here, after all. His breaths remained steady, smooth, not because he wasn’t unnerved but because those even breaths brought the scents of the place to him over and over. A repeated reminder that this place was other. Hiraeth waited, his ears pricked for sounds which might belong to something other than a gust of wind prodding uselessly at the thick green-black leaves from outside. He allowed his gaze to wander, alighting upon a crystal which emitted a gentle glow. Somehow – Hiraeth wasn’t sure how – that was ominous. Something so soft had no place in a forest so unyielding. Then he heard them: paw-falls over the brush. Hiraeth was well-versed in appearing casual when inside he was seething or shuddering; even he found it a struggle to keep his pelt from bristling now. Already, he realized, he was searching for a path through the trees – some route of escape should it come to that. The man was not too proud to flee a fight he couldn’t win but his searching gaze wasn’t frantic. There was more than a little curiousity keeping Hiraeth rooted to the spot. A bush quaked and a face emerged, the head it was set in shaking as if the cloying plant life was nothing more annoying than an errant fly. Hiraeth was about to open his mouth to speak, perhaps reaching for some sort of quip, but he was robbed of any appropriate opener the moment two twisting horns emerged. Hiraeth was many things: a flirt, a brawler, a wayward creature; one thing he was not was stupid enough to challenge a being in possession of such a fine (and presumably deadly) headpiece. His ears splayed and his head bowed for a moment as the other spoke. “Black Forest,” the golden brown male murmured, keen to commit the place’s moniker to memory. Knowledge was the first step toward mastery of any land. Confusion flashed in his eyes, though, as he replayed the first words he’d heard in this strange place. “Were you expectin’ me?” he wondered, his voice sharp with wariness. (366 words)Lirriel |
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Post by Lirriel on Jun 13, 2018 2:57:27 GMT
[googlefont=Roboto][googlefont=Montserrat][googlefont=Open+Sans] [attr="class","morpheus"] He did not react badly to Morpheus’ appearance – cautious, yes, but without the edge of fear that had colored each of the previous mortal’s actions. Morpheus blinked back at the newcomer male owlishly, then dropped his head in some semblance of a bow and sat back upon his haunches, tail curling primly about his front paws. “Yes,” he said without concern. “This is the Black Forest.”Already he was of a better mold than the last one. He might do, might be worthy of the realm of the God, of the power nestled beneath his breast – but something within Morpheus begged patience. It would prove problematic if he was hurried, pushed forward too fast. Still, past experience meant this newcomer’s questions would be more easily answered. He had some semblance of what was expected of him, thought he might once have been in the male’s place. But that had been a lifetime ago. “Not me,” Morpheus answered at last. “If you are here, then you are meant to be here. I did not summon you, but the divinity in your soul called to these lands.”His ears flicked as he briefly mulled the words he had just uttered. Was that suitable as an explanation? It would have to be – he could not explain what had made this mortal special, only that he was and so he was meant to be here. Destiny, but Morpheus suspected normal wolves would scoff at such a word. He thought he might have, once upon a time. “What matters is that you are here, and you shall not leave.” But he could certainly try. The blizzards in the mountains would misdirect him back into the valley. The sea would roll and drag him down deep, half-drown him, before depositing his waterlogged body on the coast. And the only other way out? Through the God Realm, not that he would be able to enter it in his current state. Not until he knew something of the power he held. Not until he had begun to take control of it. [attr="class", "godling"] tags: Hiraethwords: 343 notes: -- [newclass=.morpheus]height:440px;color:#E1DFD8;opacity:.8;margin-top:470px;text-align:justify;padding:15px;width:470px;font-family:Open Sans;font-size:10px;overflow:auto;[/newclass] [newclass=.morpheus b]font-family:montserrat;font-weight:900;color:#F0F0D8;font-size:12px;[/newclass] [newclass=.morpheus i]color:#C0D860; font: 11px Roboto; font-style: italic;[/newclass] [newclass=.morpheus::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background-color: #2A2A2A; width:1px; [/newclass] [newclass=.morpheus::-webkit-scrollbar]width: 5px; height: 5px; background: #ccc; border: 3px solid #f0f0f0;[/newclass] [newclass=.morpheus::-webkit-scrollbar-corner]background: #ccc; border: 2px solid #ccc;[/newclass] [googlefont=Open+Sans] |
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Post by Hiraeth on Jun 20, 2018 13:57:13 GMT
OOC: Sooo sorry for taking so long to respond Lirriel ! IC:The name of the place was confirmed in a voice which seemed to fill the small amount of space not taken up by branches and foliage. Hiraeth’s gaze flicked away from the impressive set of horns the other sported and grazed the trees and bushes which made up the place called Black Forest. It was an appropriate name. The strange male’s voice seemed to slot into place as if the atmosphere had been expecting it; Hiraeth’s question, in contrast, sounded clashing, as if the words he uttered were trying to pierce the gloom itself. So it was fate that had plucked Hirae from near-disaster and brought him to the Black Forest, to the audience of this strange being. He was meant to be here, apparently – and yet he wondered after all the things that had been left behind. Why me?He didn’t voice that question but his muzzle wrinkled lightly. Hiraeth was no creature of darkness but he didn’t see much of the divine in himself either. He toyed with others; he used them to pacify his need for attention and affection. He was certain that the wolves who had chased him here – or there, into that thicket from before – would disagree with the idea of any seed of divinity living in his soul. Hiraeth would usually have challenged the idea that there was no leaving this realm. Had he been told, before running into that stand of trees, that he couldn’t do something he would’ve fought tooth and claw to prove whoever said it wrong. For some reason he didn’t doubt this stranger’s words – and it wasn’t entirely due to the presence of those horns. It still took a few moments for the words to fully sink in. “Is this all there is here – the Black Forest?” he finally queried, his gaze straying to one of the soft glowing lights. “Or is there more?” It was probably a useless question; if there was more to this place then Hiraeth would eventually find it. If there wasn’t he wouldn’t. “Seems a bit of a gloomy place, is all,” he added. “No offense.”
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Post by Lirriel on Jun 21, 2018 2:51:16 GMT
[googlefont=Roboto][googlefont=Montserrat][googlefont=Open+Sans] [attr="class","morpheus"] The male took it well enough. Morpheus noted the way his expression shifted, his muzzle wrinkling – but the god knew not what it meant. He wasn’t about to guess at it; instead he watched the other quietly, following the male’s gaze as he examined their surroundings. Yes, Morpheus knew well what he must see – compared to some of the forests within the godly realm, the Black Forest was positively gloomy. The dim glow of the crystals cast an array of colors across his white pelt, reflected off his horns. “This?” he echoed, considering. No, there was – his brain worked slowly, drawing together the pieces of the valley, information he’d previously been gated from slotting into his consciousness. “There is more,” he said at last. “To the east lies the Broken Coast, attached to the Eldmere Sea. To the north sits the Borealis Lake atop a plateaued piece of land. It overlooks this forest. The Faded Fields are what we call the highlands upon the mountainsides, the place before they become truly inhospitable. There is the Cradle of Snowdrops – it surrounds this Black Forest, and you will cross it to enter any of these other regions.”He paused. Considered. Hesitantly, he added, “There is also the Hidden Woods. Follow the setting sun, deeper and deeper into this valley. Beyond the forest, beyond the Cradle. It is not a place for your kind.”Not yet, he added silently. And as for the other’s comment about the forest appearing gloomy: “It is rather dark,” Morpheus agreed, painfully sincere. “You may go elsewhere, if you wish. But first I would speak to you – you are to become a god, and it is my job to guide you on your journey.”[attr="class", "godling"] tags: Hiraethwords: 286 notes: i was getting pulled away all day so sorry for this being so disjointed lmao [newclass=.morpheus]height:440px;color:#E1DFD8;opacity:.8;margin-top:470px;text-align:justify;padding:15px;width:470px;font-family:Open Sans;font-size:10px;overflow:auto;[/newclass] [newclass=.morpheus b]font-family:montserrat;font-weight:900;color:#F0F0D8;font-size:12px;[/newclass] [newclass=.morpheus i]color:#C0D860; font: 11px Roboto; font-style: italic;[/newclass] [newclass=.morpheus::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background-color: #2A2A2A; width:1px; [/newclass] [newclass=.morpheus::-webkit-scrollbar]width: 5px; height: 5px; background: #ccc; border: 3px solid #f0f0f0;[/newclass] [newclass=.morpheus::-webkit-scrollbar-corner]background: #ccc; border: 2px solid #ccc;[/newclass] [googlefont=Open+Sans] |
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Post by Hiraeth on Jul 19, 2018 19:44:55 GMT
There was more – a lot more – to this strange new world. Hiraeth listened with attentive ears and rapt eyes. He wondered vaguely if he should be less excited than he was; the idea of adventure and discovery had always appealed to him. Now he found himself on the brink of stepping into new lands at every turn. He was eager to start discovering his future but that didn’t mean the coppery male didn’t need a moment for all the information he was being offered to sink in. He took it in stride – until it sank in that he was to become a god. “A god,” he echoed, his brow crinkling. There was much about this new experience Hiraeth didn’t comprehend but this was the first slice of information that he wasn’t sure he could ever come to terms with. There were others far more deserving of such a title. “That’s...” For once, the honey and cream male was lost for words. A beat passed with amber eyes fixed on the glow of the nearest crystal. “That’s unfortunate,” he finally went on, “For anyone who ends up with me as their god, I mean.”For the first time since finding himself in the Black Forest, Hiraeth looked truly troubled. He was a man of vigour but he suddenly felt rather weak – and unworthy. Wholly unworthy. “Do you have a name?”229 words | Lirriel |
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Post by Lirriel on Jul 20, 2018 11:47:52 GMT
[googlefont=Roboto][googlefont=Montserrat][googlefont=Open+Sans] [attr="class","morpheus"] Oh, a snag. Morpheus noted it in the way the other male suddenly lost some of his verve, brow wrinkled. Combined with the few short words that spilled from his mouth, it was enough for the Guide to be able to discern that something like apprehensive had gripped the mortal. There was a thought of At last, but also a sense of disappointment, that he should come so far and only be shaken now. But Morpheus did not show it – only continued to watch impassively, the only indication his attention was still focused on the male coming in the way his head tilted, ears pressing forward so that he might better scoop up the words that came from the mortal’s mouth. Still, when the male at last spoke, Morpheus could not help but tilt his chin, something like surprise leaking into him. He moved as if to open his mouth, to ask why it would be so unfortunate, but decided against it at the last moment. He was not here to judge or to ask questions. He was a Guide, and a Guide instructed. And yet the male’s obvious apprehension was enough to loosen his tongue, make him say the words, “One wolf’s bane is another’s boon.”But the sense of compassion was gone as swiftly as it had appeared, and he turned himself to the more important matters at hand. “I am Morpheus, the God of Dreams.” More formally, he knew himself to be titled The Dreamer, though the title held no significance to him. Instead, he chose to reciprocate the question, asking, “And you are?”Names were important, he thought. [attr="class", "godling"] tags: Hiraethwords: 272 notes: oh man going back to early, no-emotion morph is hard lmao [newclass=.morpheus]max-height:440px;color:#E1DFD8;opacity:.8;margin-top:470px;text-align:justify;padding:15px;width:470px;font-family:Open Sans;font-size:10px;overflow:auto;[/newclass][newclass=.morpheus b]font-family:montserrat;font-weight:900;color:#F0F0D8;font-size:12px;[/newclass][newclass=.morpheus i]color:#C0D860; font: 11px Roboto; font-style: italic;[/newclass][newclass=.morpheus::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background-color: #2A2A2A; width:1px; [/newclass][newclass=.morpheus::-webkit-scrollbar]width: 5px; height: 5px; background: #ccc; border: 3px solid #f0f0f0;[/newclass][newclass=.morpheus::-webkit-scrollbar-corner]background: #ccc; border: 2px solid #ccc;[/newclass][googlefont=Open+Sans] |
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Post by Hiraeth on Jul 24, 2018 11:13:00 GMT
Hiraeth wasn’t sure if the words the horned male uttered were supposed to encourage him or whether they were simply a remark on the way of things. They had a ring of truth to them yet the copper wolf found frustration niggling at him. Did they not understand – the gods, the guides, whoever had orchestrated all this? Did they not know what a fool Hiraeth was? Now that his past was firmly in the past and a line drawn in the sand between it and the future the rogue was able to look back at his deeds with clarity. Oh, he had loved, in his way, and he had fought for things – petty things and petty reasons – but he had not been a good man. He had brought mostly pain to those he’d loved, when he’d inevitably left them; he had ended fights savagely. He voiced none of it. He only let out a short huff and raised a brow to show his doubt. He was afraid to own up to it all, afraid to clue them into the mistake they’d made in selecting him – and some part of him thought this pale apparition of a wolf might already know it all and not care. He seemed, after all, far wiser and far more patient than Hiraeth. Hiraeth was tasked with becoming a god and that learning curve felt as steep to him as a sheer cliff face. Insurmountable. Yet he had no choice. There was no going back, apparently, and he had always made do with his lot in life. This life would just be strange and different. “Morpheus,” he repeated. That name needed to sink into his mind, to take root, for he felt as if he might need to call on Morpheus in the future. “I’m Hiraeth. Don't s'pose there's any chance this is a dream?”
“So… how does someone become a god?”316 words | oh maaaan, yeah, sorry for dragging you back in time xD | Lirriel |
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Post by Lirriel on Jul 25, 2018 15:37:32 GMT
[googlefont=Roboto][googlefont=Montserrat][googlefont=Open+Sans] [attr="class","morpheus"] The wolf still did not believe him. No matter. He would learn to leave behind worldly concerns in time. That was the way of godhood, after all. Thankfully, he was past it as soon as Morpheus introduced himself. That was good – that he did not allow himself to be bogged down by obvious concerns. Though Morpheus could not remember acting as Guide before, he had a thought that those that clung too tightly to the past were, by their very actions, doomed to fail. As for what failure entailed – that was gone, as untouchable as so many of his other memories. Still, Morpheus suspected the failure of divinity was dealt a far harsher punishment than something as simple as a death. He dipped his head as Hiraeth introduced himself, a reflexive action that nevertheless conveyed a sense of respect with its movement. While godhood felt like a natural part of Morpheus, he viewed it with the same awe afforded a differently colored coat. A spectacle, yes, but not something to be used against those deemed other. And Hiraeth would become a god himself, in time. There was a sense of kinship there, though it was likely the mortal had yet to fully realize it. “I would know if it was,” he intoned flatly to the wolf’s dream comment. There was no spite or ire to his voice – but there was also no mirth. He had taken the question as a serious query, and so he responded solemnly. But, for the second query— Morpheus considered Hiraeth once more, crystalline blue eyes wandering over the other’s coppery coat. At last, after a pregnant pause had begun to breech between them, he said with a simple shrug of his shoulders, “It happens naturally. You will feel it come over you, and you will begin to understand the domain you hold command over.”He paused again, not certain of how much more he should say. In truth, he still hadn’t figured out the process himself. In fact, Hiraeth was only the third of his mortals – and he had yet to see fruits borne from the previous two. Perhaps a nudge, then. “Seek out a companion. You might discover something in another mortal’s presence.”[attr="class", "godling"] tags: Hiraethwords: 369 notes: gonna give him a lil quest so he can start working on getting evo points! [newclass=.morpheus]max-height:440px;color:#E1DFD8;opacity:.8;margin-top:470px;text-align:justify;padding:15px;width:470px;font-family:Open Sans;font-size:10px;overflow:auto;[/newclass] [newclass=.morpheus b]font-family:montserrat;font-weight:900;color:#F0F0D8;font-size:12px;[/newclass] [newclass=.morpheus i]color:#C0D860; font: 11px Roboto; font-style: italic;[/newclass] [newclass=.morpheus::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background-color: #2A2A2A; width:1px; [/newclass] [newclass=.morpheus::-webkit-scrollbar]width: 5px; height: 5px; background: #ccc; border: 3px solid #f0f0f0;[/newclass] [newclass=.morpheus::-webkit-scrollbar-corner]background: #ccc; border: 2px solid #ccc;[/newclass] [googlefont=Open+Sans] |
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