Post by Roan on Nov 23, 2009 22:55:42 GMT -5
For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack
The sheets were heavy. Like solid sweat soaked sheets of lead pressing her body down into the mattress of the bed. A heavy red comforter and several pillows had already been violently discarded to the floor in the middle of the night. Her hands clawed at the covers on her body as eyelids flickered in disturbed sleep. Breathing was labored even though the room was full of perfectly good air. At least it would have been to a regular human not having nightmares. Actually the room would have been the perfect temperature and condition for any regular human to sleep quite soundly. Well made furniture, decoration, fresh plants, everything was well done and comfortable. But not for Roan. Since she had walked away, since she had stopped transforming into her wolf form, darkness had crept upon her in her sleep.
Hazel eyes snapped open and the lupine finally tore the sheets that imprisoned her away. They snapped harshly as she whipped them off and stumbled onto the cold wood floor of her bedroom. Roan gasped for breath and felt like heat was dripping out of every pore in her skin. Even though there was air in the room she couldn’t breath. Tastes of metal and the tang of the dead wood which made up the furniture burned her nose and her throat until she couldn’t take it and threw open her windows and thrust her head outside to grab fresh air. Only when she could tell it was wind blowing in air from around the woods could Roan finally breath and the heat eased off her body.
The nightmares were getting worse as was the restlessness in her form. The wild unhindered side of her soul was itching to run free and not be confined to the house as she had been. Roan missed the Woods and how alive it felt. Everywhere there were creatures and the plants were fresh and clean to her. It was the whispers of trees that pervaded her sleep. She knew Fenrir had been able to hear them and had called them his children. Roan couldn’t hear them clearly, but she knew their feelings and their voices enough to know they called to her. And when she refused it got bad. Some mornings she could barely stand being near the village and ached to go back into the Woods.
But she couldn’t forget her parting with Fenrir and the Pack. His voice at least was clear in her head. Run then Roan, run to Windwaltz and his wizards, but know that you are just as much a bigot as I am and that your actions today will be remembered! She flinched even thinking about it as her hazel eyes scanned the Woods behind her home. Trees were still despite the slight breeze. It was chillier out because of the coming of winter, but not nearly as bad as it would have been other places.
Willow hadn’t visited. She hadn’t even gotten a whiff of the pack in well over a month. She had expected less contact, but there hadn’t even been word. The little voice in the back of her head pushed her to do what she was driven. What her dreams had been tormenting her to do.
The woman turned around and tore open a drawer in her dresser and grabbed the first clothes on the top. It didn’t take long to discard sweat soaked pajamas and throw on jeans and a t shirt. Running fingers through her hair once she slipped her feet into shoes and grabbed a jacket on the way out the door. Roan hardly knew she was running before she was out the back door to her home and into the Woods. There were no more harsh scents of humanity, just the sweet and lush smells of nature pervading the air. Trotting into the dark Woods she ran her hand over bark on the trees and took deep breath to clear her lung and her mind.
Scents that she had expected weren’t there though. Where were the individual scents of the lycans? The only ones Roan could find were faint when they should have been as strong as the scent of dry earth or the leaves on the trees. Where was Willow? Or Erin? Or even the big one, Lesseur?
Or worse, where was the smell of Fenrir?
The idea of having to face the Alpha of the Pack after what she had done had made Roan’s bones quiver. He had not been happy with her and would protect his pack from anything he deemed as a threat. Yet his presence should have been as strong as anything in these Woods he protected but like so many times in the past she found him lacking. In the dark she ran her hand over a tree, silently asking it for where Fenrir was. It had no response for her, but simply touching it filled Roan with a life she hadn’t felt in a long time.
The lupine hurried through the trees and foliage, not caring at the noise she made. “Willow? Erin? Anyone?” She called through the Woods, fear coursing through her veins like liquid fire. What if something had happened? Primal instinct twitched down her spine and made her body quiver with anticipation. Bones ached as they flexed to change even though Roan didn’t bid them too. Finally though she couldn’t handle the pressure anymore and mid run began to shift into her wolf form. Grey-brown fur sprouted from her skin and hazel eyes sank into a pure goldenrod color. Verbal cries turned into stronger and more pervading mental ones.
Fenrir! Willow? The wolf padded into a clearing as she called. White noise of tree whispers was in her mind and she felt the hackles on her back rise up. It had been too long since she had heard nature itself in a way humans could not. In a way Fenrir spoke to them. It was something she had begun to learn when she followed Fenrir’s lessons of listening to everything around her. And it was something that was screeching her ears right now. The Forest was missing people.
Panting and trying to gather herself Roan looked at the clearing. Finally a howl tore out of her throat and echoed into the dark autumn night. It was a summoning howl, low and deep and it carried through the Woods and shook the leaves of the trees. Where are you, children of the Woods?586/index.cgi