[i]NSEST

[Sangre]

Out of Character...

Don't.

...In Character

It was raining.

"Hello, Sangre," a deviant voice cooed. Lightning flashed, and her white face was the premordial picture of his mind. He stared at her, dumbfounded, and questioned her presence. She dared to hesistate, a misgiving smile corrupting the silence. His curiousity grew, but went undiscovered as he placed her with an opaque attitude. It was clear he wasn't interested in whatever it was she had to say. He didn't even know who the fuck she was. Laughter struck as this dawned on her, her enjoyment doubling as she knew she had him. He would have to stay to listen; she knew this.

Lightning flashed.

"I know your secret," she whispered, her voice both oddly sweet and even stranger - seductive. He cocked and eyebrow and refused to say a word, save from dipping into her game. Elusive, she was, and so he saw. It was clear that he was not going to give her the satisfaction of answering, and pursed lips were an expression of such. "I know what you did," she hinted. "Buvuer told me."

Silver paws were coated with slimey brown mud, but he kept walking.

'Buvuer', he thought suddenly, the name sending him into shock. Why wouldn't it? They were brothers, afterall. . . That and the fact that they hadn't spoken in five weeks plus, due to him getting their cousin impregnanted with his children.

And to think - it so easily could have been him.

More lightning. It was so dark. He was blinded by it.

"I need you Sangre," Naguere whispered.

Stiffened steps locked burning joints, until he was forced to stop. Narrowed, neon blue eyes stared hauntingly into the distance.

"Don't try to lie - he told me Naguere is pregnant. . . and that you're the father," the white wolf said, more accusing than sweet. More judgmental than taunting. He looked at her with undisguised shock and repulsion.

- - - - -

It had been raining for two and a half hours, but still Sangre stood. His ruffled, silver fur had been tormented into different directions - either spiking up or plastered, glittering against his sides. Dirt covered his body - the vision of a tribal warrior. Crystaline blue eyes stared at nothing and everything, the blankness it drew on his face undescribable. He knew that wolf - the white wolf from so many years ago. He hadn't at the time, but months had past since then.

Matter of fact, he had just met her a couple of days prior. And now? Now he was waiting for her.

Triste, his irredescent phatom.

[Jarvin]

Just barely shy of being a year old and just barely shy of his full height, it was the first time this wolf had left his home territory. Why? Even he didn't know. It was some strange sense of adventure taking over him, some urge to explore outside the boundaries of his homeland. He had no desire to leave forever; he was too loyal to his mother and his pack to leave forever. He would do anything for them, even if it required him to turn his back on his innermost feelings to carry the task out. Yet, those feelings still remained there, buried, nagging at him. They told him something was not quite right with where he was and that there was much more in the world, but he ignored them. The pack was his family and their survival meant his. Maybe one day, he would have a much larger role in how his pack worked. Oh, the thoughts of promotions!

So, why was he here, in the rain?

"Rain falls on the land, flooding through my mind. Can't see where I stand, who I've left behind. Doesn't matter how, gotta keep the throne. Only thing left now, heart as cold as stone."

Jarvin sung to himself as he traveled along, plodding through the ever increasing muck. Though he probably should have, he made no efforts to keep his presence hidden. In fact, his voice was loud enough to be heard before anyone could see him, so long as one paid attention through the rain. The tone of his voice itself was better than it had been when he was a pup, though that was not to say it was all that melodic. The tune was still not completely formed to a song, sometimes containing a sharp or a flat when the note should have been something different. Still, it was an improvement over past attempts.

"We will be the ones, over lands we reign. This is where we're from, with blood we'll be stained. Takin' down the crew, it will all end soon. Victory coming through, howlin' at the moon."

A scent stopped him from continuing his song, not that he had any more planned for it, anyhow. The scent was foreign, belonging to a male who was obviously in his prime. It was a dangerous encounter for someone just shy of a year to have a run in with a fully grown male. The full adult would have his full build while Jarvin was still in that awkward lanky stage where he had height, but his muscular build was not yet fully developed. However, it was too late to turn back now. As Jarvin peered through the rains, he could see the other male standing there, and he was tall. The foreign male seemed fit for anything, definitely not a target to take on for someone of Jarvin's caliber. He may have been energetic and sometimes rash in his choices for fun, but he was not an idiot. Unfortunately, that did not mean he was fully equipped for the socials of such a strange meeting. He gave a nod to the stranger in the rain, curiosity driving him to stay put to see what would develop.

[Sangre]

Out of Character...

Don't.

...In Character

The biting cold of the rain was finally starting to take its affect, and Sangre wasn't the sort of proud that reduced him to swallowing the ales of his body. He shivered like any normal wolf would when cold, and shook the rain from his eyes as any creature would when blinded by stray and finicky raindrops. So, when his visage was not bright but unclear, and when the fur or his spine spiked after each time he shook and farther led to silver, irregular locks hanging askew on his pelt and, when the weight of one stance pressed upon him so that he must move to differ his footing and mud crept along his legs and seeped into his skin, he did not try to hide his handsome, feral furgality.

Upon trying to regain comfort with his footing, he was starting to note that it was rather impossible - and largely foolish - for him to think the one he sought would so decissively come to him, as though a moth to the flame. In the back of his mind, it would seem almost belittling, if someone was to know and bare witness to this incident. However, they would most coincidentally need to know what Sangre was thinking, and that in itself was a feat belligerent and impossible.

Exoctic eyes caught movement not shy of directly in front of him. Paired with the strangest of noises, Sangre thought it to be one, if not the most raucous giveaway in the history of possessing a sense of stealth and invisibility - if that were at all what this creature was worried about, or even was attempting to master. Holding his tongue, Sangre's hazy demeanor was so apparent on his features and, if allowed, would most likely seep from his pores and infest the nearest living being. The younger wolf that came through the brush would likely be surprising to another of his kind, but hardly anything unimportant surprised him. The counter to this statement would be the companion and close twin of the first white wolf - the second, Reffemi. But his mind refused to devel in these thoughts, so that section closed in on itself to open a new one.

When it was evident the minor would offer him no more than a nod, Sangre gave in to eyeing him inattentively. A solo ear flicked droplets of water from its tip, and the second arose and paired with the other. He did not look at him expentently, because Sangre did not care whether the wolf talked or stared. Either would fail in unnerving him. As it were, he always had had a way with words and, not being conceited, he didn't think he was in worse ways on attributes. So, mimicking his movements, Sangre allowed a nod in his general direction, and resided inside himself to think on whether he should start up a conversation, or let this wolf figure out which way this incident would turn.

Impassive blue eyes wandering back to the indescribale area in front of him, he offered a small "Hello," and then remained silent and unmoving.

[Jarvin]

The strange male did not seem much on words, either, for he merely gave the same sort of nod Jarvin had first offered, followed by a simple "hello." The greeting was not helpful in the least for the younger male. He still had no idea where this sort of meeting was going to lead. He let the pattering of rain take over the sound in the area while he gave some thought to this whole thing, pondering if he should continue with a more formal greeting or take a different approach. That was the downside to this whole venture: Jarvin had not the experience for an encounter with a stranger off Keva'al lands. If he was on his home lands, no doubt he would have been a little bolder with his methods.

In the end, Jarvin decided to go with a somewhat different approach to responding. The gap he had left between the other male's greeting and his own response was not unreasonably long, though perhaps longer than most would have allowed. "I must admit, when I decided to go exploring in the rain, I didn't expect to run into anyone, or at least, not so soon after my departure. Do you often just stand around in inclemet weather?" Jarvin inquired cooly. He had no reason for reacting with any vigor to this stranger, and it seemed the stranger had mutual feelings. Then again, Jarvin would hardly be a threat to the older, more experienced, taller, and more than likely stronger wolf. What reason would he have to react to him in any other than a stoic manner?

While waiting for a response, Jarvin was making a silent survey of the other wolf, a difficult task when rain was falling in one's eyes. All in all, he came to the same conclusion as before: this stranger was not one for him to mess with unless he wanted to take a beating. He wondered if the other wolf was sizing him up at all through the rains, though he doubted it would really be neccesary for the stranger since it wouldn't take much to see who had the advantage. As the rains soaked down his outer coat, his lankieness and lesser muscle structure was becoming more exaggerated. He took the time to shake off, sending a spray of water in the opposite direction of the falling rain as well as parallel to it, effectively fluffing out his fur to a small extent. Of course, if he continued to stand there, the rain would start to weigh his outer coat down and he would again look drenched and mismatched.

[Sangre]

Out of Character...

Brr-ific

...In Character

Lambent eyes roved over the undersides of leafy trees. He realized, as he was looking just for the sake of looking (and in the back of his mind, looking just for the sake of seeming uninterested in his companion, gave him a chance of once again being in solitude) that he could no longer use the term 'green' or rather, color, to describe them. Since the season had changed from spring to autumn, and had been that way for a while now, the leaves on the oak and elm trees were diverse in their coloration: reds, yellows, browns, and oranges were among the ranks of more than one hundred trees. He remembered, however vague, that he never had the chance to experience this revoluntionary sensation back in his old pack with his brothers and sisters, due to the fact that the scarce few trees that surrounded there terriority were no more than mere pine needles. The only thing that made him resist loathing them was that when winter came, they never thinned and provided a great cover. The other was simply their smell - fresh, and well, piney.

Reality kicked in as drops of rain fell into his open eyes. Sangre blinked and, coming back down to earth, dully noted the presence of the secondary wolf. To him, he seemed intent of being here, and though not necessarily wishing the wolf would vanish, he showed no signs of doing that. When settling the his male visitor with an erudite expression, it was then that he finally conceived two sentences: one a statement of sorts, the other a rather humorous question. Sarcasm would have caused Sangre to think the wolf gormless, what with his tasteful wording and what would have been in different circumstances, a jocular entrance. Entrance meaning, his 'lovely' muscial introduction. But, since that particular emotion had not overcome him at the wolf's words, he regarded the question reasonable enough. Smirking a small, otiose smirk, Sangre's louching demeanor was positioned on the other.

"Forgive me for asking, but have we met before? I'm afraid I can't recall your name. . ." he trailed off, as if the thought were truly puzzling. Fact was, Sangre could have cared less for whatever his answer might be. Still, he played the part with a slight tip of his head, as if he were genuinely interested. "You speak of your departure. . . From where have you departed?" Neither was this his business, but still he asked. If he had to put up with his presence, it might prove less awkward for the other if there was some conversation going on. As for Sangre, he could endure just fine without it. "As for me, well, I rarely do much of anything. . ." His lazy, out-of-place smirk returned, both small and crooked and unnecessary. "So to answer you question, yes." His answer was most likely unsatisfactory and incomprehensable, but Sangre had already decided he would speak no more on the topic, whatever the reason.

[Jarvin]

The stranger did not display much verve when responding to the question Jarvin had posed. It was hard to tell if he was disinterested in the whole venture of speech, or was always like this around strangers. Whichever was the case, Jarvin did not much care. He was having somewhat of an interesting time hanging about the rogue in the rain. A slick grin crossed his face while he listened to the words the stranger spun, holding back a laugh when words were first spoken about maybe having met before. Either it was a ploy to get him to say more than he should, or the stranger had truly mistaken Jarvin for some other creature.

"No, we have not met, before," Jarvin chided with amusement. "You must be mistaking me for another. Though, if there is another out there to be mistaken as me, I would like to meet him and make sure it cannot happen again. I wouldn't want to be said to have done things I didn't do, or said to have not done things that I did do." He waved his tail quickly, sending water off the tip, all the while a strange smile was plastered on his face. What he meant by what he said and what could be interpreted from it were different things, he knew. His intentions were along the lines of maiming or killing another if the other could be mistaken as him so that his deeds, which were those of the Keva'al, would be known well as his and his pack's and not to be thought of as some loner or other pack. However, it could be thought that he meant he wished to have no one else's bad deeds on his head. The question was, would this stranger get where he was coming from, or would he think the lesser path?

"From where I have departed is the land of my kin, if you really must know," Jarvin continued on, saying little that was informative. "And to be lousing about in the rain, you can't have much to gain. Did you have plans that waned, or from speech on this will you abstain?" Jarvin asked in some odd rhyme. There was no purpose for it other than seeing how the other wolf would react. He knew better than to keep pushing things to where they could reach an edge, but he thought this little tid-bit of annoyance might be safe to pull on this stranger. More than likely, he wasn't going to pull something more than this, given the huge difference he already knew between him and the stranger. But, standing around in the rain with a low-responsive wolf had his mind suddenly begging to at least try something moderate to get a rise out of the stranger.

OOC: *makes mental note to add "verve" to Fun Words list*

[Qaebenze]

..:: Qaebenze ::..

Qaebenze prowled above all normal creatures. His pads gripped the wet bark beneath them, and his toes wrapped around the curve of the branch, while his tail maneuvered behind him almost idly, ensuring his balance. He kept his center of gravity low, allowing his belly to brush the limbs on which he traveled. There was very little purpose in his travelling, but neither was there much energy spent. While some creatures that could be silent didn't always care to be, Qaebenze prided himself on his swift, silent stirrings. He didn't need to make too much effort; the rain created a mist of noise that would cover any little scrape his nails might make against the bark. The slap of the water on the veiny surface of leaves obscured everything. Without the rain he would be careful only to disturb the leaves when a breeze was strong enough to caress the undersides of those beneath him. A branch snapped only if he wanted it to.

He was diminuitive in size; part of him was always obscured from below by the branch he was on. The rest was taken care of by the spots in his coat that broke up his silhouette. The whitness of his belly was the only concern he had about being seen from below. In the rain, even that concern was eroded by the falling water. The darkness of the skies only increased the darkness of the canopy; the rain in his fur dimmed the luminescence of his coat. There were perks to being a cat. There were more perks to being a small cat. Qaebenze was just such a creature. Bobcats were small, but even bobcats considered him small for his species.

Not that he had ever run across one after leaving his mother. He wondered where she was at this time. Had she been surviving? What if she had died when he left? He wondered what insanity had conjured as a reason for his abrupt removal. She had blamed wolves for the death of his stillborn sister, and claimed a magpie stealing dewdrops had promised that his sister would return. Qaebenze shook his head with convoluted emotions of dispair, pity, and scorn.

His attention was drawn away from his memories by voices. He listened, briefly, before edging his way closer, taking care to keep his belly to the wide limbs that supported him, and staying at the peripheal of the scene. His bright, green eyes, eerie in the damp gloom of a rainy canopy, were drawn to the speaker. It was the younger wolf of the two; perhaps full-grown in height, but not yet full grown in strength and stature. He spoke in riddles and rhymes; Qaebenze shifted, sensing this was an abnormal wolf. There were kind wolves, like the first one he had ever met, but there were other kinds as well. Over the course of time Qaebenze had met stupid wolves, angry wolves, disrespectful wolves, and arrogant wolves. Qaebenze decided he had better not cast a hasty first opinion upon the wolf now speaking. His eyes swung to the other brute; a brute he was. He was big, hefty in muscle, and clearly in keeping of his self and mind.

He didn't speak yet. He had approached at a neutral angle to either wolf, and was equidistant from either of them as they were from each other. Neither did he drop to the ground. He merely waited, mildly interested in this exchange. Eavesdropping was merely a result of curiosity. It was a cat thing in which Qaebenze rarely excercised restraint.

[Jarvin]

OOC: I have to get Jarvin moving...blah leaving post...

Though it had all started out as fun in Jarvin's mind, the situation was quickly becoming old. His desire to get a rise out of the stranger was beginning to wain as was his patience for the weather. He had hoped, in part, for a more eventful meeting than what he was presented with, though at the same time he did not want things to get too excited. He was no match for an adult male yet and was not foolish enough to risk provoking an encounter to the point of violence. At the moment, however, it looked as though it was going to be impossible to get anything fun to happen with this bloke. One thing was for sure, Jarvin was going to stash away this unusual wolf's memory in his mind. Maybe later, when he had grown more skilled, Jarvin would get the chance to run into this character again. Oh, the fun that could be.

With a near non-existent nod and a quick and vague excuse for his departure ("Alas, I must quit our venture and depart for other regions!"), Jarvin began to walk away without a second glance. Of course, he was keeping an ear out just in case that odd wolf decided to do anything late in retaliation. Though he was inexperienced and a bit odd, he was not an idiot about turning his back on a stranger. He marched onward, back toward Keva'al lands, without even once seeing, hearing, or scenting the other stranger lurking in the shadows. Had he noticed, perhaps he would have made a detour to investigate on his way, but the cat was well hidden and eluded detection.

~Jarvin has left the area~